05-20-2017, 01:48 PM
(This post was last modified: 05-22-2017, 09:41 PM by Larfleeze.
Edit Reason: To link to the next thread
)
The Earth, the site of his greatest failure, became a tinier and tinier speck in the darkness of space behind him.
Good riddance. Millions of years of careful planning, thrown down the drain by a single mixed breed alien, and now, a brilliant chance to try and undo the destruction, and the human Fist Users- hybrids unto themselves, bastardizations of his children, have thwarted him.
He admired the power of those who had a touch of Saru Blood, that somehow allowed them to prevail over true Saru, and now that he was aware of the potential, he would use it, given time. But the time wasn't right for it. At this moment, the hybrids are simply a wrench in his machine.
The space craft he was in was a creation of his own, the golden metallic body made of the same stuff as his own mortal form. This craft alone would be enough, he decided. He would send it crashing into another world- this time a lifeless one, bereft of any beings who might become hybrids themselves, and enter himself back into the cycle of reincarnation, and leave this mortal body once more to take his place as the Saru's benevolent God. In a few thousand years, the material of his ship would give birth to Saru, and he would begin the Cycle on this new world. This new Saru. Wherever it might be.
That is what would have happened, if he had not been taken by the darkness the moment the Earth vanished from view completely.
He had only had a mortal body for a brief few hours- all of which spent under the adrenaline of a fight for his life. In his millions of years of existence, he had only taken mortal form a half-dozen times, never bothering to stick around for long before. He would possess the current King, if he was simply unworthy of rule in this incarnation, breed, if he felt the urge, and then sent his body back into the Cycle of reincarnation, with the hopes that the King's next incarnation would be a more worthy type.
He had never once slept, in all his time of existence. He had never once blacked out.
When his awareness opened back up, and he took in sight of an endless dark void, unable to move, unable to speak, unable to breathe, he was absolutely terrified that he somehow died. Died permanently. True oblivion. A Saru didn't fear death, as long as their blood soaked into the ground- and their blood was a fearsome thing, hardier than any weed, they would be reborn. They had no need for an afterlife, not unless they perished in the void of space-
Just as he had been.
Was this death?
His thoughts were interrupted, as soon as he made out the grinning silhouette in the darkness.
Was this God?
The true one? That so many different species across the galaxy he had conquered offered their last hopes to?
The one that he had spurned as irrelevant?
It spoke. “My name is Omni. This is not the world you know. This is the Omniverse. You interest me, so I have made you part of it. The Omniverse is a place that reflects the wishes of those who are part of it. But! There are rules. I will explain them only once, so listen carefully.”
Chakravartin listened, unable to do much of anything else.
“This is Omnilium. It’s what ties the Omniverse together. Without it, you are nothing. With it, anything you desire can be yours. But you will need more than this. If you desire it enough, you will find it. You will find that using it comes naturally. Just think of what you desire most. You will not be alone in the Omniverse. There are others. Of course, they, too desire Omnilium. Do not fear death. For as long as you interest me, you will be reborn. That’s all you need to know right now. You’ll figure out the rest soon enough. I’ll be watching … and waiting.”
This... this wasn't what he had been hoping for, but he could work with it. If this Omni found him interesting, and he lived for as long as he was?
He would give Omni a show.
He would bring his True War to the Omniverse, even if it took him a million years. Even if it took him capturing thousands of brilliantly colored orbs. Because nothing else interested Chakravartin more. And despite this Omni's words, for the first time in his impossibly long existence, he did fear death. For the first time, he felt as his subjects did- knowing the Cycle was not in their own hands, but that they would only be reborn by the hand of a greater power.
If the void he awoke in was even a slightest bit accurate, he would not want to return.
The darkness faded, and Omni with it.
He found himself facing a great fountain, a beautiful, carved tower, decorated with human figures, all reaching towards the precipice where the water shot first into the air, before cascading over them.
Besides the fountain, the world around him was a dull, colorless void. The mental realm he had spent most of his lifetime in was similar- although it was warm with the golden glow of his own existence... it was troubling, actually. He was sure he was furious with something, before he saw Omni, where was he? He thought... darkness? Something blue, in the distance, which made him mad... He supposed it would come back to him, if it was important. This realm wasn't warm with the glow of anything. It just was.
"The Omniverse... is smaller than I thought. It shouldn't take long to bring True War to this mess." he said at first, before noticing something on the horizon- several somethings, in about equal intervals in every direction.
He lifted his feet from the white featureless floor, intending on simply flying over there- and crashed to the ground. He couldn't fly? He couldn't fly?
The only time he had ever even deigned to touch the floor was when sending his host back into the Cycle! Touching the ground below you was something only mortals ever had to do!
He clumsily got to his feet- damn it. Would he have to actually wear shoes? Feeling the chill beneath his thin socks.
Taking a few careful steps, he sighed in irritation, heading away from the fountain, heading for the West.
It would be a long walk.
(Continued Here: http://omniverse-rpg.com/showthread.php?tid=8132)
Good riddance. Millions of years of careful planning, thrown down the drain by a single mixed breed alien, and now, a brilliant chance to try and undo the destruction, and the human Fist Users- hybrids unto themselves, bastardizations of his children, have thwarted him.
He admired the power of those who had a touch of Saru Blood, that somehow allowed them to prevail over true Saru, and now that he was aware of the potential, he would use it, given time. But the time wasn't right for it. At this moment, the hybrids are simply a wrench in his machine.
The space craft he was in was a creation of his own, the golden metallic body made of the same stuff as his own mortal form. This craft alone would be enough, he decided. He would send it crashing into another world- this time a lifeless one, bereft of any beings who might become hybrids themselves, and enter himself back into the cycle of reincarnation, and leave this mortal body once more to take his place as the Saru's benevolent God. In a few thousand years, the material of his ship would give birth to Saru, and he would begin the Cycle on this new world. This new Saru. Wherever it might be.
That is what would have happened, if he had not been taken by the darkness the moment the Earth vanished from view completely.
He had only had a mortal body for a brief few hours- all of which spent under the adrenaline of a fight for his life. In his millions of years of existence, he had only taken mortal form a half-dozen times, never bothering to stick around for long before. He would possess the current King, if he was simply unworthy of rule in this incarnation, breed, if he felt the urge, and then sent his body back into the Cycle of reincarnation, with the hopes that the King's next incarnation would be a more worthy type.
He had never once slept, in all his time of existence. He had never once blacked out.
When his awareness opened back up, and he took in sight of an endless dark void, unable to move, unable to speak, unable to breathe, he was absolutely terrified that he somehow died. Died permanently. True oblivion. A Saru didn't fear death, as long as their blood soaked into the ground- and their blood was a fearsome thing, hardier than any weed, they would be reborn. They had no need for an afterlife, not unless they perished in the void of space-
Just as he had been.
Was this death?
His thoughts were interrupted, as soon as he made out the grinning silhouette in the darkness.
Was this God?
The true one? That so many different species across the galaxy he had conquered offered their last hopes to?
The one that he had spurned as irrelevant?
It spoke. “My name is Omni. This is not the world you know. This is the Omniverse. You interest me, so I have made you part of it. The Omniverse is a place that reflects the wishes of those who are part of it. But! There are rules. I will explain them only once, so listen carefully.”
Chakravartin listened, unable to do much of anything else.
“This is Omnilium. It’s what ties the Omniverse together. Without it, you are nothing. With it, anything you desire can be yours. But you will need more than this. If you desire it enough, you will find it. You will find that using it comes naturally. Just think of what you desire most. You will not be alone in the Omniverse. There are others. Of course, they, too desire Omnilium. Do not fear death. For as long as you interest me, you will be reborn. That’s all you need to know right now. You’ll figure out the rest soon enough. I’ll be watching … and waiting.”
This... this wasn't what he had been hoping for, but he could work with it. If this Omni found him interesting, and he lived for as long as he was?
He would give Omni a show.
He would bring his True War to the Omniverse, even if it took him a million years. Even if it took him capturing thousands of brilliantly colored orbs. Because nothing else interested Chakravartin more. And despite this Omni's words, for the first time in his impossibly long existence, he did fear death. For the first time, he felt as his subjects did- knowing the Cycle was not in their own hands, but that they would only be reborn by the hand of a greater power.
If the void he awoke in was even a slightest bit accurate, he would not want to return.
The darkness faded, and Omni with it.
He found himself facing a great fountain, a beautiful, carved tower, decorated with human figures, all reaching towards the precipice where the water shot first into the air, before cascading over them.
Besides the fountain, the world around him was a dull, colorless void. The mental realm he had spent most of his lifetime in was similar- although it was warm with the golden glow of his own existence... it was troubling, actually. He was sure he was furious with something, before he saw Omni, where was he? He thought... darkness? Something blue, in the distance, which made him mad... He supposed it would come back to him, if it was important. This realm wasn't warm with the glow of anything. It just was.
"The Omniverse... is smaller than I thought. It shouldn't take long to bring True War to this mess." he said at first, before noticing something on the horizon- several somethings, in about equal intervals in every direction.
He lifted his feet from the white featureless floor, intending on simply flying over there- and crashed to the ground. He couldn't fly? He couldn't fly?
The only time he had ever even deigned to touch the floor was when sending his host back into the Cycle! Touching the ground below you was something only mortals ever had to do!
He clumsily got to his feet- damn it. Would he have to actually wear shoes? Feeling the chill beneath his thin socks.
Taking a few careful steps, he sighed in irritation, heading away from the fountain, heading for the West.
It would be a long walk.
(Continued Here: http://omniverse-rpg.com/showthread.php?tid=8132)