Chapter Text
Of Charlotte - Written Apr 3, 2022
I never thought of the impact of death before, I knew it glooms home so closely. But for the last couple of months I felt like a ghost roaming this forgotten land, a pariah of my own will. Which is why I'm writing this, to remember what will be lost in the endless blizzard, like those I've lost getting here.
I’m Charlotte Evergreen, of Michael Frelov. Came from Lurhafen, one of the twelve cities of the coalition. Home was always full of war, people talking about it, preparing and always on the lookout. It seemed so far away but the echoes of war are quiet compared to the wind. My father never let me see the world fully. Ever since I can remember, I've always been locked in the little cabin of ours on the side of the town. Watching as he stumbled around on his prosthetic leg, to teach me to read the books he had. Most of which are quite adventurous. While it’s quite sad, it is more enraging. To know most of your life being locked inside a house, knowing how much is out there from these stories. Why couldn’t I at least just see the town out there? He would always leave a couple times a week to get us food and other things, leaving me alone there. To read these books all over again, of the adventurers of some mythical heroes, the Godseers. Whom people remember seeing recently, but are no more, they look like us but are powerful enough to manipulate our world. He believed in those gods so much that they would save him.
Sometimes he would argue with Uncle Andrew about this. Andrew would come to us rarely, he would tell me of the frontline and of Aunt Sonith who would rarely ever come to us, she vigilantly fought in the war and gained respect from the entire coalition to retire earlier.
But one time she did come to us to visit, Dad locked me in my room and something happened, it all seemed quite violent. After that Michael never let me out of my room, just to sit for days on end with my thoughts. What happened? Who are the Godseers really? What even is the purpose of the war? Why?
All days seemed to mesh into one, just the same routine of waking up, doing my chores and back to sleep. Don’t know how long I waited to get out of this place, but one day Sonith came
when dad was gone. At first I was scared yet gleaned with relief, it finally meant I was gone. She took me by the hand and we ran through the blizzard, it was a blinding white everywhere, freezing and difficult to run.
We reached her Skiicar and drove away, while the cold still shivers in me from that day, it was quite warming afterall, as if I had awakened from a long slumber. It’s only then when I was able to get a good look of Sonith. Most notably the healed scar going through her right eye which is covered in an eye pad, overall strong facial features. With graying white hair all in a mess around, it’s surprising she could drive that well. She told me of Andrew, how he never returned from his last front assignment. They just never found him. She gave me some of his possessions that “Andrew would want me to have if he never made it back”, a Stopwatch, Blank Heatbook and Snowpen. “He thought you could use a place to note your thoughts in ''. At first I didn't think much about using this Book, but now I am using it to write about myself. He always wanted people to record information, I guess this would make him happy. Even though I never knew him well enough, guess I was never able to mourn him. Never felt attached to him maybe, or to anyone really. It always felt alone, only now as we drive through this blizzard “As far away from Larhafen we can get '' does it feel a little less lonely. Yet it does seem to be a certain degree of animosity between me and Sonith. She is always quite commanding but not as strict as father was. Once she looked at me from the parallel driving seat, slightly smiled and said: I’m sorry for what happened, must have been so fast for you. But we had little time. Before it was too late.
I’m still not sure what she meant by this. Late for what? I was a bit shaken by this so I never really asked that question to her. But I'm still thinking about it as we drive. She said that we are going to some place called Fivburi. That here she could find someone there that can help them. I think that sums up almost everything that happened before I was able to write this down. I think I'll still try to keep writing here but for now that’s it.
Unnamed - Written Dec 12, 2022
It happened in times where our noble lands were covered in snow and ice, when the known world was surrounded with gigantic glaciers no one could climb or see the ends to and the skies were ruled by an endless white storm of snow which had created the most beautiful of whirlwinds to follow. In the lands now known as Ghore'rai, up in the northern wastes of this place there were a tribe of people. The Okkrainy, Her story starts in one of their cities, among the streets of Buramt are always cold, both the people and the surroundings. While the generators that give it's residence droplets of light are quite warm with its deafening humming.
Sitting here, near the road to my home...
...Well, what used to be my home, until my father died. Met his fate in the war with the Rayic Hannate – colder winds upon their wretched kind! – and, though long ago that was, I still miss him sometimes.
Fond memories of him always trying to do his very best for what place in life he was given, regardless of others rarely having thought to appreciate, or even acknowledge his actions. But after all, knowing his blood has found peace among the snow, I shouldn't dwell on this for too long and let him rest.
So I'm left in these ice-covered lands, among the poor urchins of Buramt. I keep thinking about my aunt Sovvha, and about how maybe, just maybe she would save me from this kind of existence, as a kind person like her would have. That is my only hope for now. Since she’s one of the chiefs of the council, I assume she must, in some capacity, know what happened to him... At-least I hope so, but with each hour waiting here, I'm starting to slowly lose hope.
Maybe, I should just go blind! Ha, and find my way through the world like the roguma of old! No, what if Sovvha comes after me? Then what… How will she find me then? Maybe I'd rather stay for now, probably go tomorrow, since the sky is already darkening... and with no sight of, or people in the distance cheering for her near. Through all of this, only this book of the history of the godseers helps me through this. They have survived such monumental struggles, and carved a better world, my struggles are pale in comparison! That is assuming they are real, no one has seen them ages… which I guess explains why my people don’t believe in them.
My people believe that the Snow-sky or just sky, that it has always guided us through the darkness and light, bringing the day-cycle. Others say if you look directly up during a clear sky full of light, that you can read the one’s fate in the whirlwinds. I want to believe they are right, and that I haven't been sitting here. Waiting for nothing! The whirlwinds seemed to be pointing up and going higher in a beautiful staircase of snow. Which, I assume... means that I must wait patiently, while standing strong, my faith in Sovvha mustn't falter. But in truth, I haven't slept ever since I joined the impoverished neighborhood, and I feel like my consciousness is dimming. I don't know how much longer I can stay writing this but I hope Sovvha finds me beforehand...
Alone, skin frozen. Surrounding is the Snow-sky storm in an endless fog. Can't feel or see the legs amidst the snow. It's cold, cold, it's just cold. Dark and cold. The ground's falling
and vision failing it's just so cold, cannot walk or move laying upon the snow fully submerged. It's just so cold. take me cruel world please, please, don't want to stand or walk anymore.
a drop of warmth surrounds the chest, hotter winds blow upon the face and moments fade to the liminality of nothing.
"Racheela, are you alright?" – While my eyes were still closed, the warm embrace of Sovvha was the only thing I could feel.
"Please don't cry, it will be fine", – she whispered to me, as I opened my eyes. To see the window of a snowcat.
"I thought you wouldn't come" – sob, – "Sovvha", – through Sovvha's long and unorganized pale hair, – I could only see a shade of disappointment in her eye.
"Sorry, there's just.. a lot going on. It's okay now though, you will have a new home."
"It's fine, – I sniffled – it was at least interesting", – Sovvha smirked at what I said – "If you say so, let's hope it doesn't happen again!"
Their snowcat rode upon the fields of snow of Okkrainy, heading to the Court Palace in Kamensi, the capital of the Okkrainy people and where the war chiefs are located with their tribunes, she had hoped to make a place for Her there, as someone on her side and always loyal, with a fresh perspective on things and ways. But this requires training for not anyone could just become a tribune without any knowledge or prowess.
The court-palace seemed frightening at first, the fortress standing amidst the tallest hill near the war-capital city of Kamensi is invisible in the darkness of the sky but is also tall enough to pierce anyone's sight in the day from anywhere in the city. In these halls, made for war, I was taught how to fight, one of Sovvha's tribune's Master Xavvii taught me. He is a well known master of the spear and rifle, one of the only ones known to have beaten Sovvha in a duel. A kind and nice man despite the visible scars of war, it is hard to believe he used to be a general with his well maintained look without any extravagance. And because of this it was a hard task to train by his side, only accepting the best and never letting any sort of failure through. But i persevered, always wished to be one with the warriors, not for the glory of battle but to understand their ways and also have always wanted to dawn their clothing that lets them be so agile yet warm and the goggle-visor while amusing looking seems comfortable and practical to see warmth amidst the storms. But Xavvii didn't let me don their attire, not until I was ready. I remember one of our training sessions quite visibly albeit wishing I didn't...
"Strike harder, lay in your arm with strength and trust"
"I.. I'm afraid... I'm used to attacking the targets but you?.. I can't...", "Afraid! Fear is to surrender, doing nothing in times of need will do nothing for you."
"I can't..." My arms began to tremble and tears ran from my eyes. Xavvii glanced at me and picked up a pole, at the time I thought nothing of it but then...
A loud thud illuminated the room as I went falling to the floor from being hit by the pole into the chest, he just stood there looking down at me. "Now what, afraid?"
I laid upon the floor for a moment, thinking of what happened as he started walking away. I quietly picked up my pole and inlaid it upon Xavii's back.
All he did was grunt and fall upon the floor. I don't know what came to me but I was ready to swing at his head with the pole but he managed to deflect the blow without a word. My spear flew through the room, as I was looking where it flew I felt the gust of wind of his spear swinging through at me, in my attempt to dodge the blow I wasn't quite as fast and was stricken into the arm and fell upon the ground. But my anger hasn't left me yet, as Xavvii attempted to pick up my spear I ran to disarm him and overpowered him in the moment. Immediately I swung at his legs, trying to knock him prone, but this time he was more vigilant. Grabbing the spear as it swung and pulling it out of my hands and throwing it behind himself. With no weapon in my hand and only one thought flowing through my mind. I punched him in the face with all the power I could muster. Xavvii fell back in shock and as I ran to attack him again with my fists he quickly held my hands. "Enough! Calm yourself."
"No, No!" I felt my face be covered in sweat and tears but I couldn't, didn't want to fight anymore. "Why... w-why did you hit me then?"
Xavvii looked down at the floor, seemingly in shame. "Sovvha trained me like that, perhaps it is cruel but it proved effective on me." there was a moment of silence as he went to leave the room "I also used to be afraid. Get some rest, we will train further tomorrow"
Darkness, snow up to the chest. before is a person laying upon the snow. Face and features indiscernible, Knife in hand and shining light from the snow-sky's whirlwinds. Urge to kill, rip out the heart and be victorious. Relenting, cruel and unimaginable. But the light guides upon the chest, the person holds a knife upon my chest. Relenting as the person goes into the skin and blood colors the white snow amidst the darkness and fog. The pain doesn't wake me up, I feel the pain. I stab the neck, revolting and everything quickly fades in red and to nothing.
Her thoughts were lost, waiting for something. Distracting herself in literature, ancient scripts lost to our times. Finding the Godseers as the most interesting historical figures that most claim to have faded with the ancient times. Powerful people who had powers of gods and ruled the lands, bringing prosperity. Her wondered, how come these living gods could have faded, wouldn't their benevolent rule be eternal? Has someone brought them down or did they leave? but the best libraries in Okkrainy couldn't answer their mysterious existence. Although there was one book, one which has no origin but of some "Vicar" it says the Godseers created a colossal robotic structure in the Steel Hearthlands, The Overseer. This AI was supposed to be their magnum opus, a god made of steel and electricity, one that had reason and compassion and could lead the people to a better future, but then tragedy arrived, it grew envious of the godseers powers and then it went rogue, became evil and revolted against their noble rule to become the one god of Ghore'rai. This knowledge made Her more distraught. She wanted to know how this "Vicar" person knows this, or why no one talks about this robotic deity? In her spare time she would attempt to research this topic, asking any academic in the court and searching for related books that might cast some light upon this but alas, yet there was nothing.
"Racheela, wake up! It's better you go to bed and not sleep with all the knowledge nearby."
"Avh, oh Sovvha. Sorry I just got tired, I just can't understand... Where did we get this book?", I said while half-sleep.
"Hmm, The False Godseer by the...", a surprised expression ran through Sovvha's mind. "The Vicar? Didn't think i would see their name here."
"You know them? How did you recognize this vague name?" Sovvha usually never becomes disoriented but this time it seems she did, blanking out for a while. "Well, The Vicar is a powerful individual from The Confederacy east of Okkrainy lands, those who serve under his name usually try to protect us so that they can control us... so not the best of people."
"He's a... a leader?" "Well yeah! I am not sure why he wrote this story honestly. Maybe he has greater plans than I thought..." Sovvha began reading this book but quickly put it away in disgust.
"I doubt anything here is true, it most likely is just a refraction of the truth! Go to bed and don't dabble in such trouble." I was surprised at such a reaction. But i felt lost to finding answers, how could i get one from a political leader of one of the major powers in the northern wastes? I never left Okkrainy land and can't imagine being somewhere else. I'd rather get some sleep.
Shadow cast of shadows - written Mar 12, 2023
The deafening sounds of a transport ship loom over the back compartment where three individuals reside without autonomy. a pair of youths, one inspiring with pale expressions and another enthusiastic but losing faith accompanied by a century old revered man who has lost all hope.
Riva: Is it over Tribune Et-Tuhil, is the fight over?
Tuhil: Why would it be Riva Kin? They can take our freedom but not the spirit. The fight for our homes is laid on the hands of others, for now.
Hajiun: With respect to your young naivete, I don't think we are getting out of this prison ship Tribunes. They only spared us to make examples out of us.
Tuhil sighs and lowers their weary head
Tuhil: we cannot let our home be taken, have our people fought for nought? The great Onia sacrificed herself for our cause, to remake our world into something other than Ghore'rai!
Hajiun: Her sacrifice does not justify her as divinity, she is equal to the Otesh. nor are we losing our world. Surrender is probably the best cause for our long term survival as a people.
Tuhil: I'd rather die now than live under earthen rule, but I think we should not argue at times like these Saint.
Hajiun: Perhaps you still have an ounce of her wisdom Tribune, it is unfortunate that we have lost all Weavers. If only your father didn't hunt them all down, perhaps we would have had a chance just like Onia had when she fought the Godseers.
Tuhil: He is no father of mine any longer, after all he had done. He had betrayed Onia's people and her wishes. How can he claim to be a son of her? He had weaved the dream to capture all those who could oppose his rule. No greater treachery than surrendering another of your kind.
Hajiun: Tribune, your father has surrendered ages ago. Even before the earthen people arrived, he had lost hope in the fight as someone who fought alongside Onia. The life toll even then was too great. He sees this as a way to survive, maybe just to a breath longer.
Tuhil: The Earthen people want to strip us of our power, remove our ability to thread the dream. If we stop being lucid among the darkness, how may we live? We will return to being blind. You surely recognize this Saint?
A silence overwhelms the cell, as the door opens revealing the military escorts, adorned in garbs removing of one's humanity.
Tuhil: Oh great, I've missed the faceless army.
Riva: Tribune what are you doing? Just stand down, it's over.
Tuhil is pushed by the escort and as he tries to retaliate Riva stops him.
Hajiun: Let's go Tuhil.
They silently column towards their cell in the station, through dark and rusted corridors until they enter an opening. Rooms of cells overviewed by a panopticon.
Hajiun: So, this is our new home for the next eternity?
Tuhil: Don't say it like that Saint, we have Riva here. At Least they deserve hope!
Hajiun: The universe is cruel, such a young woman to become a prisoner so far away from home. It is crushing.
Tuhil: Saint, why the sentimentalism? Have we not suffered enou-
Riva: I can speak for myself Tuhil!
Tuhil bows his head towards Riva
Tuhil:Riva kin.
Riva: Surely someone should come after us? At Least some other saints and tribunes are around, maybe some will form into cohorts?
Hajiun: If only, Riva-Kin. the now Governor Izarl of Earth and coincidentally the father of one of us has made a pact with the earthen ones to arrest and execute all our leading individuals throughout old-Ghore Rai, thus in most likelihood. We are the last ones, I do not know if anyone else has survived. It just happened so quickly.
Riva: What about Saint Ovecja? I doubt they would have been able to locate them.
Hajiun: It is full of contempt for our people. it only wishes to ruin our kind and replace them with unhuman designs. I doubt it feels sympathy for our dying struggle.
Riva: I thought you fought the godseers with them, Saint? Didn't they send out legions of their kind to help in the end of our tyranny?
Hajiun:The Overseer was nothing different then the Godseers, made of the same ilk. It was merely afraid to die and wanted to live a life it never had. Thus he sacrificed thousands of mindless drones to our cause to gain Onia's favour. In response he was given life as a reward for his information and armies. But fundamentally he is not one of us. Just a construct, it cannot weave the dream. It is mindless.
Riva: Surely if they were mindless then Ovecja wouldn't have rebelled. He would have not conformed during the first struggle those thousands of years ago.
Hajiun: The godseers made that construct inherently flawed by accident, and it was their undoing. It has never felt sympathy for humanity. It merely desired power.
Riva: Thus it chose to surrender it to become like us? That just doesn't make sense.
Hajiun: Onia would have brought down its empire, it merely compromised to survive, then took those armies to our planet. Surely it is planning a way to cooperate with the earthen ones to get its own slice of our home.
Riva: Do you not hate anyone of the Saints, Hajiun?
Hajiun: Dear Riva kin, the saints were all from such distant places of old-Ghore Rai. It was hard to bond over anything else but Onia's might and vision. Once She left us and changed Ghore'rai into Onia. We have all led our respective people to build a new world, we had only trusted Izarl with holding out Onia's vision forward. And you see where it lead us now. My people were wise to say that we should have not seen Onia as divinely inspired by the dream, only unity of the Otesh should have guided us.
Tuhil: Perhaps I should kill you now with my bare hands now Saint Hajiun to just not hear your insults to my ancestors?
Hajiun: You would kill a brother just because you fear the truth? Truly none in your lineage were fit to rule. Onia was merely an exception, or perhaps she did not give you the gift of dreaming for a reason? With the gift, can you even call yourself her inheritor? Even your father has gone through the rites of death to weave.
Riva: Please Tuhil and Hajiun. Do we not have enough to fight, must we kill our solidarity?
Hajiun: Perhaps it would be better to die now then see it all crumble to dust, won't you agree Tribune?
Tuhil: No Saint, You were one of the greatest warriors and thinkers of your people. You came from nothing, just a man of the streets. When you saw Onia's desire to see the Godseer Uskin dead, the godseer which ruined the life for you and your people. You followed her and she accepted you until the end. And is this how you repay this kindness? You were just like Riva here and you see no wisdom in her words?
Hajiun: Maybe you are right, albeit these discussions are meaningless. We are still beasts in a cage. No one will come to save us.
Tuhil: If you were so prone to losing faith you wouldn't have made it this far. What happened Saint?
Hajiun: What happened? Everything happened, Onia's death, the war of faith, Izarl's betrayal, the plan to infiltrate and capture the enemy cruiser that was foiled and lead us here. Ever since the saints went their ways, unity has died with it. We are doomed people, who saw a candle flicker and ran towards it. Not looking where we went. Maybe it would have been better to be ignorant and not know the stars.
Tuhil: We couldn't have lived in the cave for eternity, one day they would have come down to us.
Hajiun: Then it wouldn't have been as destructive, since then we wouldn't have known the truth.
The cell door opens, two soldiers reveal themselves and enter to take Tuhil.
Tuhil: I-i, I hope you two make it further than I do.
Hajiun: Let the Otesh be with you Tribune.
Riva: Onia around Tuhil, protect.
As Tuhil is escorted. The remaining prisoners glance at each other.
Riva: Tuhil.. is gone isn't he?
Hajiun: I don't know, I can only hope he won't fight his fate for long.
Tuhil, dragged in darkness speaks to themselves.
Why is it taking so long? Are you incapable of just shooting me? Where are you taking me?
Just say something, anything?
Hello? Please anyone or anything?
Oh Onia please glance upon me.
Through the dream peek into my mind.
And behold me the strength to see forward.
So that I can live and truly see with my eyes.
Please, please just let me see something, feel something.
Do you behold no humanity in you to treat your kind like nothing?
Riva:It has been a week since Hajiun, no one is here.
Hajiun: I feel my mind slipping away from me Riva kin.
Riva: I do too, it is just so quiet. There is nothing here.
Hajiun: No one has come to take us.
Riva: I can only imagine what that could mean Hajiun.
The uneasy silence and a depreciation of the senses radiate away from Tuhil's thoughts, as in a dream white columns form into walls around them.
Hello?.. No, please no. Whose dream realm is this? What do you want?
A man appears in the distance and close to Tuhil, a recognizable silhouette.
Izarl: Do you not recognize this place Tuhil? Have we been so far apart for this long?
Tuhil: Izarl, they brought me to you and your dream. Why?
Izarl: Because I asked them for you, they wanted to end your little show. But I told them that would make you a martyr. So I asked them to bring them to you.
Tuhil: To torture me in your head, so that i surrender to your regime?
Izarl: Is it wrong to save one's son?
Tuhil: I'd rather die than be saved by you.
Izarl: How could you say such a thing, what about your people who you wanted to save. Would you really want to die here?
Tuhil: After you just let my mother die at their earthen hands for trying to stop their invasion. I'd rather be as far as I can from you.
Izarl: That was her choice and I tried to stop her. But I had no power, they didn't let me save her.
Tuhil: Doesn't stop the fact that you didn't die with her, instead you betrayed us all.
Izarl: Sorry, we couldn't have fought their might, their power is too great and we were made weak by those spared by Onia.
Tuhil: So you would rather be enslaved?
Izarl: At Least there is potential to rise again, we could find their strength in their culture. Take it for ourselves and become supreme.
Tuhil: or fade away slowly and be assimilated. You are nothing but a tyrant! You had the graces of Onia and that wasn't enough for you. You needed more!
Izarl: How are you any better Son? You took up my place and led armies of our people, for what? To just show you can, to doom thousands to die for something impossible?
Tuhil: At Least i fought for something, you surrendered. You killed your people and you killed your wife... What does that make you?
A silence illuminates the room, the white walls shatter slightly as Izarl manifests a sword.
Izarl: Maybe I should strike you down right now? What do you say Tribune?
Tuhil: Hah! Now you kill your own son? Have you not any mercy in your mind?
Izarl: My mercy has been expended on getting you here, either you surrender your people now, or perish among the silk.
Tuhil: At Least let us fight on equal ground? Is there any pleasure killing the unarmed?
Izarl throws a spear which manifests in the air and Tuhil picks it up with his mechanical hand.
Tuhil: By blessed, Onia save me.
Izarl: She won't save you now, Tuhil.
Tuhil lunges at Izarl aiming the spear towards the heart, before it connects Izarl manifests a tentacle and dropping him onto the floor.
Izarl: Ever so eager, yet forgetting that you cannot weave the dream. What did you expect to happen?
Tuhil: Even in your dream, I was so close.
Tuhil quickly looks up and swings the spear towards Izarl's neck to only be countered by Izarl's blade, splitting the spear in two.
Izarl: Does it matter if it never reaches the desired conclusion? A close call is still a failure in the annals.
Tuhil: In the dream, Absolute fact becomes meaningless. Everything becomes just a part of the imagination of a weaver, right?
Izarl: At Least you understand its power, something you weren't strong enough to achieve. And even now, still weak.
A final strike iterates through Tuhil, cutting them down and blanking their mind.
Hajiun: Riva? How much longer will you stare through the gate?
Riva: They just took that cell away.
Hajiun: How many left?
Riva: Less than half when we first arrived here.
Hajiun: I fear the worst. How many weeks will we stay here?
Riva: Maybe our punishment is to be forgotten?
Hajiun: I doubt so.
Tuhil's mind is still lurking amidst the dark of nothing, in the distance a light fades, beckoning them closer.
Seamlessly darkness unveils revealing a glamouring light, illuminated from a great corpse upon fading dead branches or roots.
Inside the carcass, silken lines stride in every direction and sense, as such happens the mind starts to leave, beginning to fall back into the nothing.
As the light fades it is remade when Tuhil's hand is grasped by a familiar arm that they recognize yet have never seen.
Tuhil awakens, alive but dead and pain coursing through the skull. Laying in a yurt amidst the arctic snow.
Tuhil groans and yells: Is anyone here?
A frail robotic figure appears from the outsides, seemingly distraught in his limited emotional visage.
Ovecja: Et-Tuhil Nebovod? My people have said of your's and Hajiun's death, how have you returned from the void?
Tuhil: Not aware of why, but i feel like i can see much more than i could.
Ovecja: Your kind must rest after such voyages. Despite my limited power I do sense you have become slightly closer to the Otesh.
Tuhil: Thank you Saint Ovecja. I do not have time for rest and calm but how did I find myself in your care?
Ovecja: I understand, We stayed here and hid but some of them couldn't be stopped to wonder in their childlike minds so they gazed upon the fights in the stars and abound Onia's Great body. Most of them asked me to intervene in the fight so we did. We entered the orbital ring-station, yet when we reached Saint-Tribune Izarl's quarters we found you there, dead upon a table. We brought you here and were preparing for a voyage out to escape this wrecked place, we thought all was lost yet you live, surely these must be the powers of The Great She, Onia. Your blood must in truth be blessed, perhaps I was wrong to side with the Otesh in the war.
Tuhil: Do not think we have time to wander our minds, we must act to bring change before it is too late.
Ovecja: If I may ask, how did you get captured at-first and what should we do next?
Tuhil: Originally me and Saint Hajiun and a cohort were to infiltrate their capital ship that stands in orbit of The Otesh Gas Giant. In it we would start a false flag attack onto nearby vessels and earthen bases. Then sabotage the reactor and flee towards a stealth craft. Unfortunately, Izarl foiled our plan before we found out he had betrayed us. The stealth craft should still be at its location, we should contact it and attempt to invade the capital ship. I have an alternative plan. But before we do so, we must free Saint Hajiun.
Ovecja: Hmm, my people do not fear death as I do not fear death. I am no tactician or general, just the mind, so please. Proceed as you see fit.
Tuhil: Let us get ready.
After a couple hours of waiting the ship returns, sending the two with a contingent of Ovecja's children upon the prison colony.
Riva: Hajiun, I think this might be the end of the line for us.
Hajiun: It was only a matter of time before our time would come. Now we must march the road to death like the many before us.
Shots echo through the station as the escort crew gets killed.
Hajiun: Perhaps fate smiles upon us in unfortunate ways.
Ovecja: Greetings Saint Hajiun, how long have we not exchanged faces?
Riva: Kindness to you Saint Ovecja, never doubted one of the Otesh.
Hajiun: Never thought you would come Overseer. Are you alone?
Ovecja: No, Tribune Tuhil is leading another number of troops through the station, we are planning to keep the station online for now. We need your help in infiltration of the capital vessel.
Hajiun: Is he seriously considering the same plan?
Ovecja: He assured me that it is different this time, albeit I feel disturbances amidst the dream.
Hajiun: Worrying that you have can feel the dream.
Riva: Tribune is surely waiting for us, we do not have the luxury of conversation!
The trio go further into the station and regroup with everyone. Reading to board the capital vessel.
Hajiun: I've felt the presence of your mind much greater than before Tuhil.
Tuhil: Is that so? After I awoke again I felt as if all had become much more clear, thinking, seeing and touching felt so much more distant yet real.
Riva: Have you death weaved? Seems familiar to what people describe after experiencing the moth rites. Albeit I was never let to perform the ritual myself.
Tuhil: Maybe but I am deeply unsure of it all and I fear to try.
Hajiun: Perhaps you should at a later time, weaving in stress has never ended well without practice. Perhaps that is how you survived?
Tuhil: I feel like I've been touched by someone I know. their presence now seems ever looming.
Riva: Since it seems you have been weaved into becoming a weaver, now you can claim Onia's legacy!
Tuhil: I fear Izarl still lives
Hajiun: Have you not killed him?
Tuhil: No, I died in his realm and awoke to him gone. Perhaps he has hid?
Hajiun: Hiding with no actions is the same as invisible death.
The craft loses itself in the shadow of the colossal ship orbiting Otesh. While some cut a hole inside through which to enter, the leaders gather to detail their plans.
Riva: We have made it on board the capital ship, that is at least it isn't a full disaster.
Hajiun: What now Tuhil?
Tuhil: Riva and Ovecja, secure the starboard while me and Hajiun secure the port. I believe the surprise will be enough for us to win.
Ovecja: Yes.
Riva: Alright.
Hajiun: Sure, but why am I with you Tribune.
Tuhil: Complimentary kits are required for each of our destinations.
As Riva and Ovecja clear the road to enter the command centre, Tuhil and Hajiun divert into the reactor room. in which Hajiun is distressed to be in.
Hajiun: So Tribune, why have we diverged here?
Tuhil: I need you to bind me to the ship.
Hajiun distraught in his expression:what... Why? That would make you no different than the godseers of old. And how, I only know the technique from Godseer technology.
Tuhil: This is Godseer technology.
Hajiun: What do you mean?
Tuhil: These people do not hail from mythical earth. These are the people of the godseers.
Hajiun: This is impossible, they came from outside the system.
Tuhil: That's what we think, they always lived here. Just not on Onia. I saw it in Izarl's mind.
Hajiun: Izarl knew? We have just been fighting our own distant people this entire time?
Tuhil: Perhaps, but they will not surrender. They aren't like us. They are changed, the augmentations make them almost not sentient. It matters not, bound me to this vessel and we may win.
Hajiun: And then you become a god? Immortal with the strongest ship we've ever seen? Do you think of me as such a fool?
Tuhil: It is the only way we may win this war, we do not have the required manpower to man this vessel. If we take it over now, we only lose one soldier. I will be able to set up a blockade to starve their ground armies and not let any more bombardments to occur. We will be free on our sacred ground.
Hajiun: Fine, if this is the prison you want for yourself then I will bound you, but know. Once this is all over, I will either tear every piece of your body into nothing or you leave this system for eternity.
Tuhil: Such is my fate, it has been great fighting for you, warrior of old. Tell them I've died while reaching the command centre and evacuate this vessel.
Hajiun: Farewell Tuhil, let victory follow.
Hajiun led the remaining army and leaders out of the ship en route to Onia which orbits the gas giant Otesh. Tuhil, now one with the capital vessel, controlling it with his now immortal body, motions of his hands shoot volleys of artillery upon nearby military stations, enough to erase entire nations. Each meteor in the belt is brought to dust and each inhabitant with them. Weaving his mind to form dreamscapes of himself aboard each enemy vessel at once.
At the end the last one of this invader stares at Tuhil's phantasmal form and once damaged, for the first time one of them ever speaks.
"Why?"
Tuhil, in a cruel amazement responds: "Why have you ruined our homes and raised our cities?"
"I-i, it spoke. It said, It commanded. We did. We can't.. can't, no. The end, it was there."
Tuhil grazes his hand over the faceless soldier: "Rest in her name, for once true".
the soldier dies and Tuhil knows the war is over. Thinking that one victory here, signals something greater.