A Tale of Destiny, Chapter 12

Lunar catacombs, 1 year prior to the events of the Cosmodrome ​Deep beneath the lunar surface, in a sweltering pit long forgotten by the agents of the Light, the ritual was nearly complete. Rubik watched in silent admiration as the monstrous cocoon pulsed with life. From the comfort and relative safety of The Void, he had waited long months for the transformation to take place. The fleshy orb, once no bigger than a basketball, now towered before him, nearly touching the stalactites that hung from the cavern’s ceiling some thirty feet above. Rubik pondered their improbable creation for a moment, here in the depths of a waterless moon. Within the cocoon, something wonderful and terrible began to claw at its veiny shell. Feeling a sudden sympathetic itch, Rubik unconsciously reached to scratch at his neck, forgetting his helmet and rebreather were still firmly attached. How long had it been? A momentary wave of panic washed over him, as he realized his oxygen filter should have failed months ago. He was not even sure breathing was necessary within The Void, but he had never dared remove his helmet in the bowels of this airless tomb. He had come to this forsaken world so very long ago, but for what purpose he no longer knew. Time moved differently in The Void, more of a cloud than a river. Had it been days, or centuries? Regardless, the labyrinthine burrows of the Hive had become his home. Mere feet away, the great shell heaved once more, a twisted claw tearing at last through its leathery prison. Soon, he would at least have some company. Rubik remembered vividly how a hapless thrall, oblivious to its glorious destiny, had struggled futilely as it was bound into the brood cauldron. Its Hive-knight captors even seemed to look on it with something resembling pride as tendrils of living Darkness enveloped the terrified creature. Thralls were often little more than cannon fodder, but this one…this one was meant for greatness. Over time, the little thrall had grown fat and strong on the Light of guardian and ghost alike. Or was it Guardian and Ghost? Rubik had never been sure what was supposed to be capitalized and what wasn’t. There was only one way to be sure. Guardians, slain on the surface and dragged far below, were used to feed the growing beast’s hunger. Ghosts received similar treatment. Those two sentences felt correct. Nevertheless, some time back the well had gone dry, so to speak. The withered old wizard (or witch?) who served as the creature’s nursemaid had been forced to find alternative methods to care for her ward. She would return to the cavern at regular intervals, always emerging from the same rear antechamber, her grey belly swollen with dark nourishment. She would then regurgitate a rich, glowing bile, which would flow towards the cocoon in an oily mass, as if on its own volition. The cocoon absorbed the nectar like a sponge, every drop feeding the beautiful abomination within. From within the violet veil of The Void, Rubik had witnessed the lengthy gestation in all its agonizing glory. At last, the time of birth was at hand. Whatever would emerge, Rubik had grown to care for it as if it were his own child. He clasped his hands in anticipation. The shell tore away like still-wet paper mache’ as new life emerged into the world. Mere feet away from the newborn horror, Rubik was only vaguely aware of the wizard midwife’s presence over his shoulder. She seemed as eager as he was to witness this dark miracle. Fair enough. She had earned this, after all. Rubik knew he was invisible to the world around him, but he felt this incredible creature was somehow aware of his presence. Within arm’s reach, the fledgling ogre sniffed at the airless environment, struggling to get its bearings. The hulking monstrosity seemed as helpless as a kitten. Masses of tumors took the place of its eyes, and it had no legs to support its great bulk. Just a hulking, misshapen torso, and two mighty arms reaching blindly in Rubik’s general direction. The warlock it had never met had been its sole constant companion throughout the ordeal, and it searched frantically for the comfort of its unseen friend in this moment of confusion and fear. The wizard eyed her creation with disdain. Something had clearly gone wrong. This should have been their champion, an unstoppable juggernaut raining vengeance upon their enemies. Instead, what sat before her was a pathetic failure, a liability. The wizard sneered her disappointment as she unleashed a deadly volley of crackling arc energy. The ogre howled in pain as the blast struck it squarely, deformed flesh burning away in smoldering chunks. The great beast groaned deeply, a sorrowful apology for whatever it had done to earn such punishment. Ignoring its cries, the wizard continued her assault, lightning flying from her bony fingers and illuminating the chamber as the defenseless ogre writhed in agony. It rolled onto its back, released one last guttural sigh, and was still. Rubik was in shock. Summoning all his will, he tore free of The Void and rushed to the creature’s side, desperate to save his only friend. It was a futile gesture. The great beast was dead, a lifeless husk. The wizard was momentarily aghast, and hovered in stunned silence at the sight of this interloper who had materialized before her. No living guardian had entered this chamber in a century. This was an outrage. Her confusion hardening to resolute anger, she began to summon forth another sphere of arc energy, eager to dispatch this brazen heretic. Rubik, aware of her presence but still distraught at the senseless act of violence, did not turn to address her. “You don’t deserve him”, he growled under his breath, still kneeling over the smoldering behemoth. Untold years within The Void had changed him. He had become a part of it, and here in the physical realm, it surrounded him in a translucent cloak of violet voidlight that beckoned ceaselessly to call him home. Responding to the recent commotion, a horde of glowing thralls began to pour into the chamber, their bodies cursed with dark energy and their minds twisted with singular madness. The old crone hurled her unholy magic at the trespasser, but the volatile orbs passed harmlessly around him like rocks parting a stream, before impacting with the cavern walls in a brilliant flash. Perplexed, the wizard readied another blast. In one fluid motion, Rubik turned and lunged for her, involuntarily blinking through The Void as he flew. He passed incorporeal through the snatching claws of thralls and arcs of lightning, appearing once more high above the frenzied throng. “YOU DON’T DESERVE HIM!” he screamed, in an uncommon display of rage for the normally aloof Awoken. The gathered energy of The Void peeled away from him in a tidal wave of purple vengeance, obliterating the wizard and a squirming mass of glowing thralls. Their luminous tumors erupted in a tremendous secondary explosion, blinding cerulean blooms immolating scores of Hive in their wake. For several long moments, the cavern echoed with the wails of burning undead. Soon, all that remained was the soft [i]drip, drip, drip[/i] of mysterious fluid from its unknown source above. Rubik mourned over the scorched body of the ogre for a short time afterwards, still grieving the senselessness of it all. He had never before ventured into the rear antechamber, though he had always been intrigued at what the source of the wizard’s unnatural nourishment might be. This seemed as good a time as any, there was nothing left for him here. In the darkened rear chamber, lit by eternal torches that flickered with sickly green flame, something wondrous loomed. A great shard of the He/She/It, ten feet high and held aloft by unseen tether, seemed to call to him as he approached. Its hue was the dull dark of stagnant swamp, tainted beyond mending. Had the Hive altered it somehow, or had it always been this way? He reached a gloved hand to grasp it, and a sliver broke away like rotted wood. It thrummed softly in his fist, whispering ancient secrets through the pores of his flesh. He shivered involuntarily, then placed the tiny shard deep within the folds of his well-worn robes. This was a rare prize indeed. He turned in place and prepared to leave the lonely shrine, a thin smile spreading across his lips. These were interesting times. That was Chapter 12. If you enjoyed that, you can read the entire story starting with Chapter 1 here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10856982/1/A-Tale-Of-Destiny ​