07-12-2015, 11:24 AM
Nealaphh watched as the ex-lich known as Jules Restlin slowly walked down the sidewalk of Solinus Avenue. Wing City was on the verge on monumental change, and this young man was the lynch pin of the Master's entire operation. Jules, of course, knew that the Zeitgeist was just a figment of the Master's scheming, and that the reality behind this so called apocalypse was really just another play for absolute power. It was an elegant stroke, of course. The Master would never commit to a plan that wasn't sheer genius. Still...Nealaphh had doubts as to the Master's ability to predict mortal psychology as of late. He had become obsessed with rising to ever higher echelons of reknown, and as such had undertaken a nearly fanatical recruiting spree, taking on new Enigmas faster than Nealaphh could indoctrinate them.
On top of that, the Vankoryth Detente was beginning to show signs that they were losing interest in the worship of the Master. Nealaphj had been opposed to taking the vampire nation on as supplicants for fear that they would still believe themselves greater than the Master. Honestly, Nealaphh wouldn't be surprised if he decided to simply lift his blessing of darkness off of their land and let the undead prats fry.
Nealaphh shook himself back into the present moment. Jules had entered the small boutique storefront where he held his nightly classes on lucid dreaming. A nice distraction, but the true intent behind it was far more potent. The more people learned how to manipulate the dream world, the more their waking reality would seem fake. Just another world to control. As more and more people unlocked their unlimited mental power, the Zeitgeist would start to collapse. At that point, the Master would partition part of his power into a seperare entity called "The Dreamer". A being of colossal, primordial destruction. Only the Master would have the ability, the insanity, to heroically absorb this beast into his self, but he would require the power of many other gods and mortals to do so. Then...when the time came and he had enough supplicants, the Master would reclaim his partitioned power, and combined with the power taken from all other sources, he would ascend beyond the nadir of reproach...truly...the ultimate being.
Of course, this all depended on humanity continuing to try and unlock their hidden potential even after seeing the effect it had on their Multiverse. Nealaphh wasn't sure that this was a tenable thing to rely on, but he knew better than to question the Crawling Chaos at this point. In the blink of an eye, Nealaphh ported himself into Jules' office. Nealaphh had taken the form of a small, rotating black prism; it wasn't necessary to try and deceive Jules into thinking he was a member of VARIAtech, but Nealaphh liked this form. Jules looked up from his computer with a blasé expression.
"...what does Hotep want now? I've got class in twenty minutes." Jules said, and ugly sneer on his face. Nealaphh was always disappointed that Jules never seemed phased by anything, but considering what the necromancer had been through, it was hardly surprising. Besides, disappointment was a useless human emotion that he had been told to rid himself of.
"The Master-"
"Nyarlathotep."
"...the Master requires your presence in The Gap. He wishes to discuss escalating your endeavors."
"...and he sent you to tell me this? Badass Nyarlathotep can't send me a drone or a prophetic dream? He sends you? What are you then, some eldritch carrier pigeon?"
"You have your orders, Jules Restlin. See to them."
"Whatever."
With that, Nealaphh winked back out of the physical realm and into the aforementioned Gap. It was the space that had been left over after heaven and hell had been similtaneously combined and purged. In the places of demonic legions or heavenly hosts, vast, mountain sized monstrosities lumbered across the vacant landscape. Great storms of dust carrying showers of decaying angel feathers howled slowly across the ash filled plains. The corpse of The Maker still sat, hunched over, but had since ceased bleeding out its ocean of blood. Great, screeching scavengers hovered on the updrafts from the Blood Ocean, picking at the deific flesh with relish.
The Master had made his lair inside the dead god's enormous skull, taking root as the disgusting black fungus that had ended Nealaphh's mortal life so long ago. The Enigma flew through the purple skies to the precipice of the cadaver's jaw. Hovering within the skeletal carrion cavern like a pearl inside of some horrendous oyster. The words of the Master came after a short time.
Nealaphh...the message is delivered?
"Yes."
The Necromancer will come?
"In time, I'm sure. Jules may try to deny his leash, but he is a loyal dog."
Good. Be on your way then.
Nealaphh started to leave, but paused.
"Master...where do I play in to these plans?"
Wherever I decide to put you, Nealaphh. You question my strategem?
"No, Master. I just feel as though I could be of greater use."
...perhaps. How goes the Consulate?
"We are harvesting a steady supply of minds, but the volume is not what you mandated. Apologies."
...hrm...pehaps, then, it is time for you to escalate your operations as well. You are familiar with the planet Cerex?
"Yes."
Have you developed a method for planetary integration, as I asked?
"Yes."
Then you will travel to Cerex and integrate it. It will be a simple attack; the planet is weak and naive.
"Understood, but how does this aid the Zeitgeist?"
It does not. This is an auxillary plan.
"You are concerned the Zeitgeist might fail?"
No, but nothing is absolute. We are proof of that. No further questions. Go.
"Yes, Master."
...
On top of that, the Vankoryth Detente was beginning to show signs that they were losing interest in the worship of the Master. Nealaphj had been opposed to taking the vampire nation on as supplicants for fear that they would still believe themselves greater than the Master. Honestly, Nealaphh wouldn't be surprised if he decided to simply lift his blessing of darkness off of their land and let the undead prats fry.
Nealaphh shook himself back into the present moment. Jules had entered the small boutique storefront where he held his nightly classes on lucid dreaming. A nice distraction, but the true intent behind it was far more potent. The more people learned how to manipulate the dream world, the more their waking reality would seem fake. Just another world to control. As more and more people unlocked their unlimited mental power, the Zeitgeist would start to collapse. At that point, the Master would partition part of his power into a seperare entity called "The Dreamer". A being of colossal, primordial destruction. Only the Master would have the ability, the insanity, to heroically absorb this beast into his self, but he would require the power of many other gods and mortals to do so. Then...when the time came and he had enough supplicants, the Master would reclaim his partitioned power, and combined with the power taken from all other sources, he would ascend beyond the nadir of reproach...truly...the ultimate being.
Of course, this all depended on humanity continuing to try and unlock their hidden potential even after seeing the effect it had on their Multiverse. Nealaphh wasn't sure that this was a tenable thing to rely on, but he knew better than to question the Crawling Chaos at this point. In the blink of an eye, Nealaphh ported himself into Jules' office. Nealaphh had taken the form of a small, rotating black prism; it wasn't necessary to try and deceive Jules into thinking he was a member of VARIAtech, but Nealaphh liked this form. Jules looked up from his computer with a blasé expression.
"...what does Hotep want now? I've got class in twenty minutes." Jules said, and ugly sneer on his face. Nealaphh was always disappointed that Jules never seemed phased by anything, but considering what the necromancer had been through, it was hardly surprising. Besides, disappointment was a useless human emotion that he had been told to rid himself of.
"The Master-"
"Nyarlathotep."
"...the Master requires your presence in The Gap. He wishes to discuss escalating your endeavors."
"...and he sent you to tell me this? Badass Nyarlathotep can't send me a drone or a prophetic dream? He sends you? What are you then, some eldritch carrier pigeon?"
"You have your orders, Jules Restlin. See to them."
"Whatever."
With that, Nealaphh winked back out of the physical realm and into the aforementioned Gap. It was the space that had been left over after heaven and hell had been similtaneously combined and purged. In the places of demonic legions or heavenly hosts, vast, mountain sized monstrosities lumbered across the vacant landscape. Great storms of dust carrying showers of decaying angel feathers howled slowly across the ash filled plains. The corpse of The Maker still sat, hunched over, but had since ceased bleeding out its ocean of blood. Great, screeching scavengers hovered on the updrafts from the Blood Ocean, picking at the deific flesh with relish.
The Master had made his lair inside the dead god's enormous skull, taking root as the disgusting black fungus that had ended Nealaphh's mortal life so long ago. The Enigma flew through the purple skies to the precipice of the cadaver's jaw. Hovering within the skeletal carrion cavern like a pearl inside of some horrendous oyster. The words of the Master came after a short time.
Nealaphh...the message is delivered?
"Yes."
The Necromancer will come?
"In time, I'm sure. Jules may try to deny his leash, but he is a loyal dog."
Good. Be on your way then.
Nealaphh started to leave, but paused.
"Master...where do I play in to these plans?"
Wherever I decide to put you, Nealaphh. You question my strategem?
"No, Master. I just feel as though I could be of greater use."
...perhaps. How goes the Consulate?
"We are harvesting a steady supply of minds, but the volume is not what you mandated. Apologies."
...hrm...pehaps, then, it is time for you to escalate your operations as well. You are familiar with the planet Cerex?
"Yes."
Have you developed a method for planetary integration, as I asked?
"Yes."
Then you will travel to Cerex and integrate it. It will be a simple attack; the planet is weak and naive.
"Understood, but how does this aid the Zeitgeist?"
It does not. This is an auxillary plan.
"You are concerned the Zeitgeist might fail?"
No, but nothing is absolute. We are proof of that. No further questions. Go.
"Yes, Master."
...
And, we dream of home I dream of life out of here Their dreams are small My dreams don't know fear I got my heart full of hope I will change everything No matter what I'm told How impossible it seems We did it before And we'll do it again We're indestructible Even when we're tired And we've been here before Just you and I
Don't try to rescue me I don't need to be rescued
Don't try to rescue me I don't need to be rescued