[Forlorn Ascension]|[Rites of Dominion]

by Desrium

Confrontation

“He seeks an audience with us,” the twisted figure upon the black throne mused with a gurgling, throaty voice. It started to laugh, the laugh lighthearted and jovial in a strangely genuine way, like an elder amused by the antics of a young child. It lacked the deep grumble of the voice preceding it.

“Oh, the brilliance of it all!” the airy voice replied, escaping the same pale maw of the being.

Its white, sightless eyes stared over the lower levels of the throne room, the undead members of the Polymerization having no reaction to the muffled booms and thuds that traveled through the innards of the vessel. The vibrations rippled along the Marauder’s metallic spine and the creature was well aware of the shuttle’s approach. That was as it should be.

“But who are these… intruders?” a harsher, raspy voice inquired with a hint of disgust, “the pest was to come alone, as per his nature…”

“They will not interfere,” a deep, dignified voice assured. “The tenants of change, chaos and power are doctrines imposed by our Masters since time immemorial. They will die. The pony will take his place in the divine plan. Completion of our deed is at long last, at hand.”

The pale creature wrapped in writhing shadows smiled, one hand’s seven fingers curling up into a tight fist. The other gripped the silvery staff even tighter, for the time of glory drew nearer with every explosion. It waited, content upon its throne high above its subjects below, surrounded by the green flames which licked the walls, the tongues of fire fluttering like flags in the wind.

As he sent his shuttle racing down the wide halls of the formerly Hoof-Talon ship, Phineas was beset by memories of his first encounter. The stallion’s breathing was quick and raspy as he saw things morphing before his very eyes. He saw the undead he passed as the hybrid soldiers in their black armor, the decrepit walls around them as the pristine and uniform expanse that defined their standard of construction. Then reality would take hold again split-seconds later and Phineas would be confronted with faces lacking flesh and muscle, rotting eyes and graying organs, their bodies as different from anything Equestrian as different could be. The uniform walls of his memory turned into rune covered canvasses that plunged whole sections of the ship into an omnipresent redness.

Phineas’ lips curled as he struggled to keep himself in check, reacting to the startling changes as best as he possibly could while keeping his shuttle under control. He had to drown out the changes, to carry on in spite of them. Otherwise, he might just crash like a drunkard speeding down a highway. By the way he was carrying on right now; he might as well just fly straight into the fires his guns were laying down through the ship, the yellow and blue bursts of light in contest with the red glow.

As he went, keeping his utmost priority centered in his mind, he had to acknowledge one thing: if he suspected his psyche was damaged before, he had undeniable proof of his declining mental health to support his suspicions. It was an unsettling revelation to have as he went screeching down the corridors of the Marauder, laying waste to everything that was in front of him, be it undead, door or wall. He wasn’t as invincible as he would have liked to believe. Whereas his body hadn’t failed him yet, his mind was suffering in its place.

”Hubris,” Phineas thought, staring past the warnings on his HUD about his stress levels and heart rate, ”I guess I’m paying for it after all…”

The nightmarish visuals shifted again, and he was zipping down an orderly straight, the lights lining the top and sides of the passage blurring together as the stallion went. A group of Hoof-Talons were far ahead of him, flashes of scarlet going off and smashing against the shuttle’s magical shielding an instant later. His guns came to life again, blasting through the next set of bulkheads that stood in his way, the soldiers vaporized from proximity alone.

Reality: metal shards glowing white were tumbling through the halls, scraping against the hull plating and floor. Small bits of rot dissolved away in front of the pony, the gore and destruction etched into his consciousness as he stared wide eyed straight ahead.

”Get it together, Startrot! You won’t survive this if you start falling to pieces now. Maybe when this is over, but not now!”

He swallowed hard, took a deep breath and hardened his expression beneath his helmet. All he had to do was endure this long enough to bring an end to it. That was his goal. Anything else after could sort itself out, but this was his duty to fulfill, whatever the cost.

The pale creature was still, the smile on its facing remaining as it stared at the wall in front of it with its many milky eyes. The flames danced as they always have. The workers did their tasks without fail. Everything was coming together. The only thing missing was the guest of the hour. The violence was so close now. It was only a matter of moments-

The flames rushed away from the wall. Shrapnel went flying, impaling numerous of the Hoof-Talon thralls on the lower floor. From the jagged, glowing hole in the wall, the shuttle emerged, slowing quickly until it was hovering before the black throne. A hiss of vapor was released from the rim of the black and white ship’s canopy. It rose under the gaze of the sickly looking creature, whose smile widened into a toothy grin. The creature stood up and put the base of its staff to the floor. Hunched over, it began to descend the steps, using the staff as a cane.

Phineas pulled his forelegs from the neuro-link sleeves and disengaged his straps. He got out of his seat and walked over to the side of the cockpit. He hoisted himself up and over the edge, jetpack engaging. He hovered away from the shuttle while raising his PDA and putting in an order. The shuttle’s screen lowered back into place, its engines lighting up once more. It leaned over to one side, turned around to face where it came then jetted down the burning tunnel, the purple light dissipating behind it as it disappeared. Phineas watched it go before looking over to the grotesque figure.

The pale creature was now standing at the base of its throne, which made Phineas raise a brow underneath his helm. Not moments ago it was still at the top of its monolithic seat.

“We bid thee welcome, pony,” the creature gurgled. It eased itself onto one knee using its staff to balance and bowed its head to Phineas, whose confusion only grew. The oily shadows around it whipped around and rose like smoke, forming small puffs which disappeared after rising a few feet in an endless loop.

Phineas did not reply. He glanced away from the figure and saw that the remaining undead were mirroring the gesture of their apparent leader. He cringed. He used to think he was deserving of such response to his mere presence, but not only had he outgrown such obnoxious pride, the fact it was his detested enemy doing it made him uncomfortable beyond comprehension. It left him feeling disgusted and almost insulted. Perhaps that was the creature’s intention.

It stood up, trembling somewhat and relying heavily on its staff to get back into its hunched stance. The grin had not left its twisted visage. It started chuckling deeply and what Phineas could make out of its chest was quite visibly heaving. With one bony finger, it pointed to one of the stallion’s toolboxes.

“Do you intend to repair the damage you have caused?” it asked in a hoarse, scratchy voice, “How very thoughtful of you.”

Uncomfortable, disgusted, insulted and so very confused. Phineas simply hovered in the air, caught in a limbo by his own habits. He wanted to understand once and for all what the grander motivation for all the horrible atrocities committed in the name of the Star Terrors was and he also wanted to know by what means this creature came about, and why it was the leader of the undead horde. At the same time, he wanted to silence the words of this feeble, disfigured monster. He wanted it to drown in the blood its actions have spilled, to suffer the same way as its innumerous victims. Was this really his enemy? The one whom he was so anxious about facing? The one who orchestrated this convoluted plot? He could scarcely believe it. Silence was all he could spare in reaction, the nuances of the pony’s expression masked entirely.

“Not very talkative,” the creature commented casually in a croaking voice, “is it because of our… condition? You did not treat the traitor with such… coldness…”

“Traitor?” Phineas finally said in response. ”The chimera?”

The creature’s grin curved upwards mischievously. “We had a feeling that would get you talking.”

Phineas cut his jets, dropping out of the air right after and landing with a heavy thump on the floor in front of the abominable creature. “Speak and I will listen,” the stallion said.

“He still does not know his place!” one of the many voices of the creature stated with some restrained glee. It was high pitched and almost manic. Without skipping a beat, the previous voice continued: “Oh yes, the traitor. We believe you got to know him quite well-“

“Why do you call him a traitor?” Phineas interjected impatiently.

The giddy voice started laughing uncontrollably. The manic cackling echoed in the burning chamber. The undead surrounding the two at the base of the throne started to join in, their bodies beginning to heave as they started moaning and groaning to the tempo of the abomination’s laughter.

The laughter ended without warning when the creature shouted, “So many questions!” in a thundering voice. The underling deathless ceased their commotion and their sounds seemed to disappear into the crackling fires, consumed by the unnatural flame.

“What of you, pony? Why would you send your greatest weapons away after all the destruction you have already wrought on our vessel? Did you not think to use them on us?”

”It seemed too easy an option,” Phineas thought but said nothing out loud.

The creature’s grin turned downwards, the sickly albino skin on the creature’s face wrinkling. “Are you silent because you are so ignorant as to not consider that option?” it rebuked. “No… we know the extent of your guile and cleverness,” another voice came forward to say. “We also know your penchant for curiosity…”

“How far are you willing to go for your answers, pony?”

Phineas snarled irritably. “I’m not doing this again. You will either tell me what I want to know or I get on with destroying you.”

Rumbling laughter emanated from the creature’s throat. “You are in no position to make demands, pony, but I will indulge you this one time…”

“Then tell me, why is the chimera a traitor?”

“You will know as much as I soon enough!”

With sudden swiftness, the pale creature stood tall and limber. Phineas reared up in surprise, but by then the shadow-cloaked figure was already charging him, its legs long and lean and its stride large. Before he could react, the ornate end of the staff was brought down on his head.

“And now we bring our plans to fruition!” the creature bellowed. The mouth of the reptilian ornament flashed green, rings of magic forming around the armored stallion. Runes spiraled around him in alternating directions.

“You will join us! You will accept the will of the Gods! From now until forever, you shall serve under The Immortal!”

The Immortal threw its head back, its toothy jaws parting to unleash a horrendous sound, like a howl that was butchered and rearranged into sounding like a laugh, haunting and unnatural. It then looked down at its quarry and growled, “Now, who is your master?”

Phineas was frozen as he was when the staff made contact with his helmet. His hind legs had a decent spacing in between them and his forelegs were held at his sides, bent slightly in preparation to throw a furious barrage of punches. And so he remained after the question was asked of him, unresponsive, unmoving.

The Immortal’s many eyes glowered at the stallion. “Well-?“

The pony’s forelegs shot up and he grabbed the staff. With a strong tug, Phineas took it from the pale creature’s grip, hopping backwards several paces afterwards and twisting it around so that its ornate end pointed threateningly at the albino.

“Impossible!” The Immortal roared. “They blessed me with the power! You should be my slave!”

”You tried… to brainwash me…” Phineas thought as he stared hatefully at the shadow-cloaked abomination. ”You tried… to brainwash ME!? Do you have any FUCKING idea who I am!?”

Phineas swung the staff around, bringing it down with a powerful overhead swing that smashed the figurehead on the end against the floor. It did not bend or dent as per its metallic appearance. Instead, the ornate jaws and tendrils cracked in a crystalline fashion, angular breaks spreading across it. The cracks started seeping viridian energies from them.

“NO!” The Immortal barked. “You heretic! You disgusting heret-!“

Phineas let out a wordless exclamation of rage, a furious yell as he threw himself at The Immortal and brought the staff down on its head with such force behind the blow that the ornament shattered into hundreds of tiny pieces. It fell apart into glass-like shards, leaving the pole with a jagged tip glowing brightly with poisonous energy.

The Immortal doubled over from the hit, but stood up again quickly enough to be hit by the eruption of energy that came from the fractured staff. The wrathful look that was on its horrendous face swiftly turned to that of absolute fear in those few seconds. It was sent hurtling backwards in an arc, the smoke trailing its path through the air. It thudded against the steps leading up to the black throne and then started rolling down them. Phineas was knocked off his hooves at the same time by the vicious blast, tossed through the air before he went slamming down on his side several feet away from where he was before. He grunted, feeling the ache spread out through his entire body, but paid it no mind as he staggered back upright, using the staff as a crutch in a way that was very akin to The Immortal.

Immediately, he was faced with several undead hybrids converging around him like a pack of wild animals. They deployed their weaponry altered by the necrotic power of their abominable leader and opened fire, sending the streams of sickly magic at the Federation pony.

Phineas took to the air with his thruster pack, throwing the staff like a spear into the first Hoof-Talon zombie he saw. Its sharp end pierced its armor and the rest of it sank into its rotting body before coming out the other side, stabbing into the floor of the burning chamber. Because of the steep angle it was thrown, the deathless hybrid was pinned to the floor by the base of its neck. The zombie snarled and growled as it wriggled about, its resistance making the damage more extensive until it severed its spine and its head dropped like a weight.

Phineas then deployed his hover-platform weaponry and engaged the other undead in a firefight, dancing about in the air and raining magi-bolts onto his foes. Shortly into the battle, a series of rapid booms sounded off elsewhere in the ship, each thundering noise growing closer and closer until finally from behind the black throne, the battle-pod came screaming into the burning chamber.

“What the hell!?” Phineas blurted out.

With his concentration thrown off, he was promptly struck by a necrotic blast, the sickly orb exploding against his magical shield and dropping it instantly. Before he could recover, another orb smashed into his back, its malefic energies assaulting him directly. The stallion cried out in pure agony, his suit systems going haywire. His jetpack cut out and his rifles lost their magical charge, folding up and starting their fall alongside their user. He slammed into the floor at speed, leaving him in searing pain and gasping for breath.

The battle-pod swung around in the air, its cockpit screen sliding upwards. It rolled upside down and Alikir disengaged from the holo-pod. He dropped out of the fighter craft and twisted his body around so that he was falling feet-first; his boosters firing up to slow his descent. He put his hands by his thighs and the handle of his guns popped out of their holsters.

“I won’t allow it to happen again, you bastards!” Alikir screamed, drawing his dual pistols. They issued their roars, puffs of flame and smoke rushing out of their barrels and sending their explosive rounds into the soldiers below.

Elysia rolled the fighter again and retracted the screen. She then flew the pod close to the floor, its magical shielding manifesting exclusively around the front of it as it went mowing down the enemy, the soldiers dissolving away into glowing powder that was scattered by the ship’s passing.

Trembling, the pony attempted to stand. He was afflicted by a hollow, hacking cough. His vitals monitor flashed on his HUD and he knew that the blast was killing him, rapidly shutting down his bodily functions. It was a literal poison and all who fell to these weapons died a slow, torturous death.

“Federation pony!”

The stallion looked off in the direction of the voice. His vision was beginning to distort, but he could see Alikir sprinting towards him, although blurrily. “Aleekeer,” Phineas said, his speech slurred. The Space Ranger slowed to a stop next to the armored pony and he kneeled.

“Don’t speak,” Alikir replied. He holstered a gun and then tapped his hardsuit chest piece with his free hand. A compartment revealed itself and Alikir fished around in it with a couple of his fingers before pulling out a white oblong object roughly the size of his fist.

“Whuzzat?” Phineas inquired before coughing some more.

“I said don’t speak!” Alikir chided. He pressed down on one end of the object with his thumb and the other end split apart into petals that pressed against the side of it. A needle like object extended and around the base of it blue and pink lights lit up, indicative of a magical charge.

“It’s a stabilizing spell. Elysia and I were given a pack of these before we left on this mission to counteract their weaponry should we need to revive one another.” He pressed the point of the needle against Phineas’ chest and pressed the other end with his thumb again. The lights around the base went dim as the full strength of the spell was administered to the stallion, a healthy aura of pink and blue running across his body.

Phineas mumbled something incomprehensible before breaking down into coughing yet again.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Your listening skills could use some work, and dying isn’t an excuse. Anyway, that should keep you up long enough until we can get you back to the G.S.O’s medbay.”

“Just put me in my shuttle’s stasis pod and tow me back,” Phineas growled, feeling his strength return to him somewhat. “It’s where I normally go after-“

Phineas stopped speaking when he noticed the glinting from the corner of his vision, a light that did not pertain to the green fires. He looked to the source and his eyes widened as he saw The Immortal rise from the bottom of the stairs. In its hands was a collection malefic energy that was the same as that from the broken staff.

“Like the traitor before us, who betrayed the Gods in the hopes of becoming a god himself by prolonging their holy crusade…”

The Immortal shambled towards Phineas and Alikir, hands clenched into fists. Alikir tensed, preparing to pull his gun on the creature and ending this fight before it began.

“We… have been forsaken by the masters. For reasons we do not know… we have been forsaken. Our flock carried out the Rites of Dominion for the Masters! We pledged our entirety to the Masters! We did everything right that the traitor did wrong! And yet still we are DAMNED!”

The albino abomination raised a glowing hand to the armored stallion. “Like us, you too will be damned!” it roared, the magical aura exploding outwards around it. Electrical tendrils were wrapping around the corpses around it and pulling them towards the pale creature. Alikir opened fire with his pistol, but his rounds never made impact, evaporating in the arcane storm.

“We will all be damned! The Gods own this galaxy and will do with it as they see fit! They are the will of the stars and mortals are but their playthings!”

“Alikir, give me a few more of those spells,” Phineas said to the ranger.

“What!?”

“I’m not leaving here until that fucker is dead and I don’t intend to die before he does!” Phineas snarled angrily.

“You need to get out of here and let me and Elysia handle this!”

“You and Elysia need to get your asses to this stupidly huge ship’s Hex-core and take it out! I’ll keep the jackass busy here so he doesn’t go after you. He wants me dead more than anything!”

“But-“

“For fuck’s sake, do you think we have the time to debate this!?”

Alikir reached into his chest compartment and plucked out a handful of the spell containers. He reluctantly held his hand out and Phineas took it. He moved it to one of his toolboxes, opened the kit and had the ranger drop the containers into it.

“Now get out of here, things are about to get a lot more violent if the last time I fought something like this is anything to go by!”

Alikir gave the pony one last look, hidden by his golden visor. He then turned away and started sprinting across the chamber floor. He put his free hand to the side of his helmet. “The Federation pony’s got things handled here, we’ve got different objectives that need to be done. Get ready to mount an offensive at the ship’s engine room.”

“Are you mad!? He’s injured!” he heard Elysia exclaim.

“What? You don’t have hope that he can do this?” Alikir replied. “Because then we’d be in agreement!”

He holstered his gun and fired up his jets as Elysia brought the battle-pod around, the canopy opened. He flew into the fighter, dropped back into his gunner seat and strapped in.

“He’s going to die here, isn’t he?” Elysia asked as she pointed the pod towards the hole in the wall past the black throne.

“More than likely,” Alikir answered. “But I think he’s okay with that as long as he gets the job done. Surviving’s just a plus, you know?”

Elysia hummed uneasily at that, but didn’t say any more. This was a war where tens of thousands died pointlessly and only a small few gave their lives for something meaningful, be it to save the rest of their company or saving the entire galaxy from the tyranny of powers beyond comprehension.

When the green magics subsided, what stood in the place of The Immortal was a hulking golem made entirely out of bone imbued with metallic plates from the armor the soldiers wore. It was an exoskeleton of both ivory and ebony, boasting blade-like claws and talons. The gaps in the armor glowed with the emerald light, almost blending into the fires that illuminated the burning chamber. Bony whips dangled from the golem’s forearms, which it lashed against the floor, igniting them with blue arcane flames.

Phineas dashed over to the staff embedded in the Hoof-Talon corpse. He got up on his hind legs and pulled it from the body, twisting it around in his grip before pointing its jagged end towards the golem. He whipped his tail around, the crimson blade manifesting itself with a buzz and a hum.

“No guns? No jetpack? No problem!”