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In a Blaze of Glory
#1
Blood. I smell blood. Fresh, human. Lots of it. It comes from the North, so to the North I turn.

The beating of my wings speeds up incrementally as I lower in altitude, fighting the lack of significant updrafts closer to the ground and powered by my excited heart. Easy prey, and delicious, tender meat at that, as least compared most I find in this desert wasteland I call my home, is a rare treat, and from the smell of it, I shall be dining quite well tonight.

In my sights, now, is a very large city. Normally, such a place would make me uncomfortable, but if they are already killing each other, they present no immediate threat to me.

I home in on that delicious scent that brings me here. It gets stronger by the second, and I can now tell that it comes from a large, circular arena. I cannot help but let out a screech of joy as I approach my target, and my dinner.

I land on the edge of the humans' death bowl. They scramble meaninglessly throughout the stadium, some attacking indiscriminately, some fleeing, and some merely admiring me, jaws agape as their only true threat descends upon them.

I grab one of them. Covered in clothes, too much metal to eat comfortably. I rip its head off and let the body fall to the ground. Many more who were previously attacking begin to flee, but those that remain begin poking me with those sticks that humans like to call "weapons." All except for a small group in the middle, who are still admiring me in awe.

I let out a burst of flame, incinerating those stick-fighters nearest me - No more than an annoyance, sure, but an annoyance nonetheless - and turn to do the same to the group in the center, but am stopped by a different scent, one familiar to me but that had been covered by desire to eat, and the powerful odor of fresh blood.

It is Mother. She is not staring at me in awe, but in fear, and confusion, and relief. I let out a low growl. I, too, am confused. She seems to be protected by a group of humans that she trusts. I spare them, for the moment. I can figure out what she wants later.

I turn back to the stick-pokers. Their attacks ARE beginning to sting a bit. I give up on an easy, delicious meal, as I realize they're all wearing those nasty metal bits. They make for easier cooking, but I don't mind raw meat, and the metal tends to stick to them and get stuck in my teeth.

I burn them.

I blow flames to the left, the right, all around, except where Mother is. She would be okay, she's done it before, but her group protects her from the stick-pokers, and humans tend to be susceptible to those. I bite, I thrash, I bellow. They keep coming.

I am beginning to feel pain, real pain. There are small holes in my wings, now, from the stick-poking. I am worried for Mother.

She climbs on my back. I flush with embarrassment, and rage. I am not a mount. But I will do what I must to protect Mother.

The land and air around me burn as I spin, letting loose one lase blast of death before my imminent departure. I take a running start, and lift off somewhat less stably than I would have preferred. My left wing is more damaged than my right. But once I get a good meal in, and some rest, it will not matter any longer.

Mother whispers something unintelligibly to me. I do not understand the human languages she speaks, but her intent is clear. Gratitude. I am thankful she is no longer trying to imprison me.

I turn my head back as we make our way up into the air, the death bowl now becoming a speck on the horizon. Goodbye, fresh meat. I will return later for that meal you promised.

When I turn back to face my destination, the world as I know it is no longer there.

I find myself in a void, a black sky with no stars and no land down below. There is no air here, and I struggle to breathe for a short while before discovering there is no need for breath. Mother is gone.

In front of my floats a white ghost of a human. I try to eat it; I am still hungry. My teeth pass right through its misty form. This development is unsettling.

He begins to speak.

Quote:“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.”

I have never been able to understand human speech, other than a few short commands taught me by Mother. I have never wanted to. And yet, the meaning of every word this ghost spoke it made clear to me. I know not how.

Quote:"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."

A shining ball of light, the only light in this darkness other than that emitted from the ghost itself, is placed before me. An offering of peace, it would seem. I reach my taloned wing forward and snatch it up. It merges with my claw, and I can feel its light shooting through my skin and veins. It is a satisfactory offering.

Quote:“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.”

Is Mother here? Perhaps I shall find her soon, when I "Figure out the rest." I believe this is the first time in my life I have created thoughts of my own in terms of human words. It is strange, and I dislike it, but it is also somehow satisfying.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I know not when I fell asleep, but it seems I have awoken in a very sunny place with no sun. I attempt to stand, but the ground moves from under me. I am disoriented because the sky and the ground look, and smell, the same.

I decide to orient myself based on the plane of human scent surrounding me. That is the direction the ground faces. I stand, and fear is added to the overwhelmingly sterile feel of the place. A welcome change.

I am again hungry. I search around me for an easy target. There is a human, a short one - a child? - with no metal shell, only a short dress that humans might term "cute." This is a positive development. I lumber slowly over to it, before quickly jumping into the air, snatching it with my talons, and ripping its head off with my teeth. It is delicious, and my hunger is sated.

Unfortunately, it seems a number of other humans, these in white shells I have never encountered before, begin stabbing me with bolts of red flame expelled from bow-like devices. They are unhappy with my choice of sacrifice. I envelop them in flame, adding them to my death toll in this odd place. I do not eat them - I am already full, and their white shells look like they too would get stuck in my teeth.

I take again to the air, letting out a jet of flame above me and an angry screech as a warning to anyone else who might decide I was a nuisance. I pick a random direction, and begin my search for Mother.
[Image: Om484Nd.gif]
#2
There are many strange things in this land, and many aspects of the place that I dislike. The abundance of well-armed humans, the monotonality of the ground and sky. The fact that my flames and claws cannot breach the stark whiteness that is the ground, that the land is impervious to my will. It seems there are no caves in which to make my dwelling, nor any other sort of landmark of any sort, save for a wide ring of stone arches and a number of tall or wide objects that I run across once, and then seem to encounter again, try as I might. Mother is also not here, but I lived long enough without her. That does not bother me.

None of this, however, is near so disconcerting as the lack of a sun, and weather. The flaming orb in the air which guides us, along with the winds and the stars, are either hidden or simply gone. It is a strange thing indeed.

I continue my aimless flight. I am beginning to suspect those disappearing landmarks are replacing one another... Based on my explorations as of yet, they all turn up in the same place. I can think of no rational explanation for this, as it seems no human or other force is actively switching them around.

The ring of arches seems to be a barrier of sorts. The edges of this realm, as it were. Never before has my roaming been so artificially hindered.

One of these arches is crawling with the nasty white-shelled ones. They make a point of letting me know I am not welcome. I make a point of letting them know I don't care, before deciding it isn't worth it for, as I now know, those shells do indeed get stuck between my teeth. And taste nasty, to boot.

I lumber off to a spot far from any arch, but still near the artificial border, before taking a short rest. It would seem that flight in this place is more tiring than at home, if only for the lack of air currents in any capacity.

I am awoken by the worried cry of another human in a dress, this one larger than my last good meal. It is pointing at me, and a small crowd of the creatures has gathered in a semicircle around me. I groggily lift my head before realizing the source of the commotion and snapping into full consciousness. Another small one, probably its offspring, has decided I am its plaything and taken a perch atop my neck. It laughs, oblivious to the screams of its parent, and to my outrage.

I flick my head upwards, letting a terrible screech, even to my hardy ears, fill the air. The small one flies high into the disorienting sky, and I must suppress my instincts to leap up and catch it in my mouth; I still require more rest, and it is hard to sleep after a meal. It falls to the ground in front of me, broken and tangled. It tries to move, for a moment, before realizing its imminent death is inevitable and sparing itself the pain.

The crowd disperses in fear. They leave the small one to die. I burn it, for it I do not, it shall reek terribly upon my awakening.

I return to my slumber.
[Image: Om484Nd.gif]
#3
The hidden shadow slipped through one of the gates of the Nexus, between the two white armored men that guarded the way into the city realm of Coruscant. They noticed the ripple as something moved from one side of the portal into the solid white hub. They balked when they did not see anything actually come through, but by the time they looked around the area the shade had already moved on. He had thought to slay the two stormtroopers on the spot, as revenge for the pain their organisation had visited upon him, but he thought better of it.

Kilon, Nerazim of the Zer'atai clan, looked across the seemingly endless, colorless plane. Unlike the prime, who had the Nexus as their entrance to the Omniverse, the secondary was left in awe as he saw the seemingly impossible dimension. It was a passing fancy however, as the dark templar had seem many "impossible" things in his travels before the Omniverse and he suspected it will not be the last one. And in the end, he had no reason to stick around and the universe he had just left was a good enough reason to leave.

His invisible form sauntered across the the almost featureless floor when he heard the screams and panic from the edge of this small dimension. A crowd of people scattered from what seemed to be a large beast, scorch marks and the remains of a burnt body revealed the act that caused the distress. But while the others fled, Kilon walked closer.

He thought to slay it on the spot as it slept, to run his warp scythe through its neck like he had done to many Zerg before. He drew near and held the staff ready, thumb over the activator and how he would make the well practiced strike repeated in his head.

But he hesitated. Why would a beast willingly come here? A number of the gates were guarded, and even if it had wondered in from a gate a natural animal would have attempted to return to its own territory. Perhaps, Kilon thought, that it had been summoned in the Nexus instead.

Which meant it was a prime. An immortal being handpicked my Omni, stronger than many and likely to remember who had slain them. He stayed his hand, better to not bring the wraith of something that couldn't be killed. And yet, Omni would not summon some mindless beast, would he? There may be the chance he could communicate, or at least convince it leave to where it would do less damage

The Nerazim reached out with his mind in order to speak with it. He still hid himself in the void, and his blade ready to strike.

"Awaken, beast. What purpose do you have here?"
#4
I am awakened from a slumber far deeper than expected by an intrusion into my mind. It makes human noises in my mind. I have never before encountered such an oddity. Unfortunately for it, its noises were hostile. If it plans to poke me with its race's unfortunate substitute for claws and fire, it will be dealt with quickly and painfully.

Then again, there was also caution in its tone. Fear. An emotion I know well how to spot, but never one that had been transmitted to me so directly. This is intriguing. I decide not to kill it before at least playing with it for a while.

My eyes snap open. This would have surely been intimidating, had it not been for the fact that the human's preferred method of communication didn't give me any indication of its location. I narrow my eyes, glaring in all directions around me with slow neck movements. The rest of my body remains perfectly still, poised to strike. I do not find it, in the end, with my eyes. I smell the thing - Well, maybe it isn't human. It certainly doesn't reek in quite the same fashion as those I've become accustomed to. But this still doesn't help me find it, as this place has no wind, and the scent is equivalent regardless of the positioning of my head.

I feel its presence, still, in my mind. Like that of the white one, but hostile, ready to fling itself to its death at my maw. Though, it seems to not understand its powerlessness against me. This is unusual among the human race, but for the dullest few - relatively speaking, of course.

I know not how to communicate with this one, though that seems to be its wish. Perhaps, sharing not a language, visual and emotive images are the only way. I implore it to show itself, forcing towards its presence a picture, wreathed in an growingly-hostile fog, of a human stepping from behind a concealing wall. Then, that same wall with the human cowering behind it, wreathed in flame and burning to a crisp.

Surely, my intent is clear. I impatiently continue to scan the area, lifting myself to my feet as I wait for a sign that it has received my message.
[Image: Om484Nd.gif]
#5
So it could understand him. Although it could not speak directly, it could communicate in a basic way. Kilon was at least grateful that this wasn't going to be a waste of time, though not happy about the subject of the message itself. A very clear threat to be roasted if he did not reveal himself. An unadvantageous situation for him, as it's his invisibility that kept the scaly beast from lighting him ablaze in the first place. He could blink away if need be, disappear, and then strike from the shadows. But it isn't his intentions to make enemies in this world. He did not trust the creature, but he could at least meet it half way. His hand slowly moved over to the psionic crystal fitted into his left pauldron, and with a moment of concentration the void energy that surrounded him ceased.

Drogon would see the air barely ten yards away from them start to shimmer and ripple, when the Dark Templar started to appear back into sight. It was like water poured into a container, if the front of Kilon was the bottom of the pitcher. His color arrived followed shortly after, to reveal loose purple cloth that cover his body and tarnished armor cover sparse areas which was just as much decoration as it was built for protect. Much more strikingly is the bones of previously slain creature, the skulls and tusk of zerg, covered him as trophies. Green eyes, which glowed with a piecing light, stared down the apex predator even as it shifted its body to strike.

It may have meant nothing to Drogon, but to the Nerazim in front of it there were the signs of a warrior. proud and strong. His weapon looked to be an elaborate staff, but he knew hid the dangerous warp scythe. And like the great reptile, he was poised to attack.

"I have done what you wanted. Consider this a favor. Now, answer my question: What is your purpose? Why are you here?" He spoke to the dragon. It didn't look amused, in likelihood it saw him as something lesser. As prey. it seemed to at least humor him, but he considered the likelihood to get anything of use out of it to be minimal at best. This stand off could devolve into violence, but if his own kind could find peace with the high templar then he had to at least try. It was all in the beast's claws now.


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