Yes, this takes place in the same galaxy as Whispers of Darkness. Nirn may be its own planet, but the majority of this story takes place on Earth - specifically, Earth-2. Since WoD is pretty much about to finish, I thought we could get on with some of the spin-off stories! This story takes place approximately two years before WoD, in 2189 by Citadel Council standards. The Empire of Nirn has evolved to become a space-faring civilization, and its leader has become, for lack of a better word, bored with ruling. This is the story of what happens because of her boredom.
That being said, if this admittedly strange crossover is not something you'd like associated with Whispers of Darkness, feel free to consider them separate, as there's no overlap between the two stories for quite a while, if at all.
I hope you enjoy!
Even with the blood of Nords and Giants running through Astrid's veins, the cold in this part of her homeland bit like an indignant Alduin.
She had wished to find her origins, to go as far north as possible, and the cyan path of her Clairvoyance spell led her no further than where she stood, ahead of a small rock formation, buried in ice and snow. This was the heart of the country that had seen her born, even if she could not remember it - even if the long dead continent of Atmora, as confirmed by her recent travels, did not seem to have borne any sort of intelligent life in millennia. Frost trolls, giant spiders, and ice wraiths were all that lurked around the frozen wastes and ruined cities of her forefathers.
The spectral purple fur of her massive familiar brushed against the dark claws that adorned her gauntlet. She patted the great direwolf's head, causing it to whine contentedly. "This should be the place, Aela. Where Men came from. And yet, nothing but a pile of frosted rock covered in snow."
Indeed, there seemed to be nothing around for miles but snow, the last signs of ancient Atmoran structures long since past. She frowned, looking at the swirling white skies above her. If experience was anything to go by, she needed to look at the problem from a different angle. Drawing breath, and feeling the dragon blood within her, she spoke the sacred language of the most powerful creatures on Nirn.
"LOK-VAH-KOOR!"
The thunderous sound of her Voice filled the air around and above her, and the terrible blizzard that seemed to permanently affect the frozen continent seemed to bow before her power, halting at once - literally, the snowflakes stopped falling, hovering in mid-air before breaking down, the beautiful night sky swiftly revealing itself to her. Masser and Secunda dominated Aetherius, as always, the faintest trace of Khajiit civilization lighting up their surface. It had been decades since she'd last been to the moons - or anywhere beyond Nirn's atmosphere, really. Exploring Tamriel kept her busy enough, and the Empire did not require any sort of management on her part, these days. She'd done the heavy lifting a couple Eras ago, after all. Serana enjoyed the politics involved in being her appointed Regent, and she trusted the Elder Council Paarthurnax led not to betray her reign.
The familiar yipped, grabbing her attention. It pawed at the snow mound in front of them, like it was trying to knock on a door. "I can feel...something. Beneath the ice, perhaps? There must be something I am missing." -she surmised, amused. The direwolf sat on its haunches, cocking its head. "What do you think? Could we use some help?"
A dark aura wreathed her hands, as she murmured the short incantation required to open a portal to Oblivion. The vortex opened, and a gout of flame appeared inside it, coalescing into a semi-solid, feminine form, held together by runed, black, and armored patches of metal. The Flame Atronach stared at her sightlessly, flames consuming the upper half of its face. "Please melt the ice, Thrall." -she requested.
The daedra nodded - it didn't need to, but they had enough of a history to be courteous with each other - and did as she asked. The crackling of her flames intensified, and a fiery stream flowed towards the ice, causing water to drip and vapor to rise.
She raised an eyebrow, backing away. As the Atronach's power was expended, something began to appear beneath the ice. Nothing more than a hint, at first, but over time, it became a sort of angled metallic door, circular in shape, and the color of steel. The flaming daedra seemed to slump, exhausted, so she banished it back to its plane for some well deserved rest.
Her familiar rose, the metal catching its interest. It was smooth, without any sort of visible markings. She punched it, and it did not bend or dent in any way - impressive, considering her draconic strength. Aela smelled it, then growled, like she would when exploring Skyrim's ancient barrows.
"Definitely something behind this." -she whispered. She checked Dawnbreaker, secured to the left side of her hips, but the daedric blade remained inert, the holy light at its hilt utterly absent. "No undead nearby, then."
Her hand enveloped in magickal fire, she cast a rune on the metallic surface. Aela smartly retreated alongside her. She held up a ward and braced as the symbol violently detonated, sealed air from inside the structure blowing out pieces of superheated metal, some of which pinged against her protection.
When the smoke cleared, she grinned; the metal circle had mostly vanished, in its place a gaping hole lined with glowing slag. She turned her attention to the direwolf. "I don't believe you'll fit in there, girl. Go to Serana, let her know what we've found."
Aela nuzzled against her chest, before running away, vanishing after a few yards. Astrid smiled, then turned towards the opening, manifesting a small orb of light, which in turn began to float around her head. She conjured a lightning bolt into her right hand, and stepped inside the darkened tunnel ahead.
The first thing that struck her about the place, as her eyes adjusted, was that it did not seem ancient, like it should have. In disrepair, yes, dilapidated as the ancient dwarven ruins beneath much of Tamriel, but there were clear signs of advanced technology - much more advanced than ancient Atmorans should've had. Thin lines of long-since-rusted wire snaked along the tubular walls, the panels meant to hide them corroded at her feet. Curious, she prodded the wires, but the electricity seemed to have no effect. Looking back at the entrance, she could see some kind of panel, covered in two flimsy, translucent buttons, colored red and green. She pressed each, but nothing happened.
She followed the electrical conduits, which led to a series of metallic catwalks, bridging a gap between two rocky ledges. Passing a sort of gate on the other side, she found a desk, upon which sat a weathered metal box, connected to the same wires prevalent around her. Astrid approached it; on the side facing the desk's broken-down chair, the box was made of curved crystal, covered in a thick layer of dust. Careful not to scratch it, Astrid wiped at it with the palm of her gauntlet. The sparks still on her hand arced to the glass, and just for a second, a light appeared behind it, glowing with a sickly green tinge. Astrid raised an eyebrow, then pressed the tip of her finger against the glass, letting the arcane current pour through.
As she expected, the light appeared again, stable this time. The device, she decided, was surely analogue to the magelight displays, widely used in most every facet of everyday life in her Empire. Terribly clunky, if that was the case, though impressive, for something that had to be over seven-thousand years old. Beneath the display was a set of buttons, branded with many of the same symbols she could see behind the glass.
"This writing...the ancient Atmorans never developed an alphabet. Whose records are these?" -she pondered aloud. Feeling her soul rear back in anticipation, she whispered. "Mindoraan."
Astrid's vision blurred for a moment, but as she focused again, she found that she could understand the text displayed.
"Welcome to RobCo Industries Termlink." -she read, narrowing her eyes. "What in Oblivion does that mean?"
She skimmed the rest of the text, but it seemed to be no more than an introduction to whatever system allowed the device - a terminal, it called itself - to function. Frustrated, she turned to the buttons beneath. Almost all of them were the letters meant to be used to create the words on the crystal display, but a few were labelled otherwise. On impulse, she pressed the one with the word 'Enter'.
The terminal responded, thankfully, shifting to show an entirely different set of messages. She learned then that this was a security terminal, a sort of guard post meant to protect whatever lay deeper within the cave system. The guard registering the entries - a person named Marcus Sánchez - had started out optimistic, even excited about the prospect of 'working Vault-Tec's most secretive project.' The entries became progressively despairing, however, citing a strange lack of contact with representatives of the aforementioned organization, dwindling resources, and a myriad of other problems she couldn't make heads or tails of. Eventually, she got to the last of them, reading aloud.
"Oh my god, they did it. They actually launched the nukes. That must be why we've had no word from Vault-Tec in months. I guess they didn't make it, either. Damn it. At least being stuck out here saved our lives. I don't envy whoever survived the apocalypse back home. Thing is, though, we're screwed, too. Two of the scientists already decided to bite a bullet. Can't say I blame them; there's no backup, no more resource drops. Hell, we don't even have enough fusion cores to keep the portal running. I guess this is home now; even the Overseer can't seem to bring herself to stick with the original plan of staying in the Vault. We're not gonna last much longer in here."
Astrid gasped, accidentally cutting the power link. The terminal died, of course, but her curiosity had never been more alive. "These people...were they Men? Could they have been our ancestors?"
Only one way to find out, of course. She needed to see one for herself.
Progressing deeper into the 'Vault', as they seemed to call their dwelling, Astrid bore witness to the remnants of the troubles that the guard had noted; there was no ancient food left in any of the rooms she found, and what few items she could find seemed to have little to no use where survival was concerned. Clearly, these people had been scholars, observing and researching ancient Atmora. She stumbled upon two more terminals, which unfortunately failed to respond to her sparks like the first.
Examining the walls, she could see a few scraps of extremely brittle paper, desperately clinging to the vertical surface. Only a few were intact enough to make any sense of, but even then, Astrid lacked the frame of reference needed to truly understand. After a couple more rooms of rather fruitless exploration, she found a set of thick doors with a plaque above them that read 'Laboratory'. They were locked, and she could not see where to pick them open. Judging by the smaller terminal beside them, they were meant to open on command.
Astrid activated the terminal, but was surprised to find a jumbled mess of letters, numbers, and other strange symbols instead of a clear set of instructions. "Some kind of cypher, perhaps?" -she wondered.
She tried to select the correct option at random, but that plan failed miserably. Soon enough, the terminal had 'locked out', refusing to accept any further commands. Astrid scoffed, offended, before punching the terminal to pieces. A Laboratory could hardly be a Dragon Priest's inner sanctum, she surmised. The doors would not stand before her Voice.
Planting herself in front of them, Astrid drew breath, and Shouted: "FUS-RO-DAH!"
Unrelenting Force burst from thin air, immediately expanding, making contact with the doors, and easily blowing them off their hinges. Astrid smirked beneath her fearsome helm, satisfied, only to gasp when she saw what had been previously obscured.
The Laboratory was a circular room, dominated by a large, glass cylinder in the midst. A fragment of metal from the door had hit the crystal, but it had merely cracked a little; Astrid was certainly impressed, but more so, she was shocked. Within the cylinder, there was a Giant's mummified corpse, suspended in some kind of amber fluid. Dawnbreaker did not come to life, and yet Astrid could not help but notice how much the body looked like a massive draugr.
Lining the walls, there were other cylinders, much smaller in size. The first held a troll skull inside, completely devoid of flesh, its maw wide open. The second held two linked hearts, likely from the same creature. A third contained what could only be a Giant's skull, also pristine. Whatever had occupied the fourth had long since dissolved, turning the fluid a murky green, and lastly, the fifth had a direwolf's skull floating inside. All creatures native to Atmora, she noted.
The terminal beside the Giant's cylinder had miraculously survived her rather violent entry, and responded to her sparks. Elated, she began to read.
"This little fella happened to wander just a smidge too close to the Vault. He never had a chance; even covered in those thick furs, the auto-turrets did him in in a few seconds. We think his kind is Atmora's native sentient species. Plentiful, but clearly not too far into its potential for development."
The other entries listed their findings regarding the Giant's anatomical description and other such notable traits. Nothing new to her there, but the fact that they called Atmora by the name she knew was telling; clearly, they'd been, if not her actual forefathers, at least involved in the earliest stages of Atmoran civilization.
From the Laboratory, she advanced deeper inside. Very little caught her interest, unfortunately, but the picture was becoming fairly clear: these people had come to Nirn from another world - a place they called 'Boston', if she understood correctly - on a mission to study it, but had been cut off, and forced to forge an existence in ancient Atmora. Perhaps they had mixed with the Giants? She was living proof that it was possible, after all, and by all accounts - what few there were of that era, anyway - the first known Atmoran Men had been abnormally tall and formidably built, like her.
Whatever the case, confirmation came soon enough. Entering a room marked as an 'Infirmary', Astrid discovered a set of metal tables, two of which were occupied by familiar shapes, covered in white cloth. Taking the cover off of the closest table revealed a skeleton, predictably enough. The bones bore signs of fire damage, which told her the corpse had likely been cremated, though why they hadn't ground the bones into dust, she didn't know. Strangely enough, beside the grinning skull, she found a warped metal pellet. Bending down to examine it, she noticed that the back of the skull had a massive hole in it, the bone turned to a jagged and fragmented edge.
"Is this the bullet?" -she asked no one, slightly uncomfortable saying the foreign word. "The one the scientists bit?"
She moved towards the other skeleton, and found it in the same position; the only difference was the hole's positioning, at the top of the skull instead of the back.
Astrid crossed her arms, frowning. She looked down at her hip, gauging whether her next idea was worth it. Ultimately, she decided, the Daedric Prince owed her too much to complain.
"Sorry about this, Meridia." -she whispered, letting her hands become wreathed in black-purple energy. She touched each of the skulls' foreheads, and let the Conjuration magic take effect.
Sure enough, the skeletons shook, slightly, as her necromantic spells bound them together, replacing long gone tendons and cartilage with a dark purple substance. Dawnbreaker blazed to life, but she ignored it, watching in satisfaction as the two corpses rose, creaking, from their resting places and turned to face her, eye sockets filled with an ethereal blue light.
"Welcome to the future." -she said. "Do you remember who you are?" -she asked.
They could not respond verbally, of course, so they nodded instead, in unison. Astrid smirked. "Excellent. Do you remember where you came from?"
Again, they nodded, this time shakily walking away. Astrid followed them, curious. Down a few hallways, they reached a sort of room with a grand wooden desk at its center - or what must've been, anyway, considering its current dilapidated state, broken in half, a larger terminal than the others tilted in the middle. She noted the name 'Overseer's Office' with interest; this must've been the Vault's base of operations.
The skeletons walked up to the desk, looked at her, then pointed at the terminal. She knelt down to activate it - the glass was shattered, but it was, thankfully, still operational - and began reading through the entries.
The Overseer had been a woman, aged forty-two, named Maria Gillespie. She'd been chosen by the mysterious 'Vault-Tec' because she had been, at one time, a decorated historian and anthropologist. The Vault itself was described to be tiny, by its builders' usual standards, built at the start of the year 2076. The construction had taken a little over a year, after which Maria Gillespie, and a team of twenty-four scientists, six security officers, and five engineers had traversed a stabilized space-time anomaly found when Vault-Tec was digging to make room for another Vault, back in their homeworld.
"One-hundred and eleven." -she said, pursing her lips. "Just how many of these Vaults did they create?"
At least one-hundred and twenty-three, if the one she stood on had been the last. The reason for its existence, Astrid was shocked to find, was, as indicated by the entry labelled 'Prime Directive', the successful conquest of Atmora, as a foothold in the eventual colonization of Earth-2, codename 'Terra'.
"Truly, you sought to conquer Nirn?" -she asked the skeletons, which seemed to hesitate before nodding. "By what right did your 'Vault-Tec' believe it could try?" -she asked, angered. Her risen thralls failed to respond, the question too complicated for a yes or a no.
She shook her head, irritated, before resuming her reading. Gillespie detailed a very successful few early months - monitoring the local wildlife, mapping the surrounding lands, and studying nearby Giant tribes - before suddenly losing all contact with Earth on the twenty-second day of the month October, the portal closed on the opposite end. Gillespie very quickly figured out the situation, but did not share her theory to her underlings, instead trying to figure out how to carry out the Prime Directive with a tiny fraction of the resources necessary to complete it. Things worsened as the other Vault dwellers reached the logical conclusion regarding Earth's fate, of course, up to the point of suicide - Agatha Haynes and Colton Richards, the married couple macabrely stood behind her, taking their own lives when they figured out that their son, a young soldier, had likely died in the destruction back home.
In the end, the Overseer had failed to find a way. With little food left, and sure that there was no Vault-Tec for her to even fear disobeying, she had decided to ignore her orders, and head out with the remaining crew, to try and survive among the Giants that called Atmora home.
Astrid sighed. Her findings were…bittersweet. These were her ancestors, and that of all Men on Nirn. Of that, there was no doubt. It was plain for all to see, however, that their intentions in visiting this world had not been noble. She felt like many of the Altmer must have, when the first aethercraft breached their world's atmosphere. Much of what they thought to know about the Divines had been a lie. Magnus was a ball of eternal fire, not some kind of portal to another dimension.
The gods existed, but not as they had thought of them. The same went, apparently, for her ancestors.
Astrid abandoned the terminal, and dismissed her thralls, the bones clattering to the ground without her magicka to support them.
"I wish to visit this...Earth." -she said, resolute, and Clairvoyance lit her path, a cyan light appearing on the floor, leading towards the back wall of the room. Astrid narrowed her eyes, then reached behind her back, pulling Alduin's Fang from its scabbard. She easily plunged the unique greatsword into layers of wood and metal, finding them weakened by time and frost. Drawing her blade in an arc, she created an opening, which she bashed in with the black hilt, fashioned from the dark scales that had once made up the World-Eater's hide.
A darkened tunnel lay ahead, wide enough to move everything she'd seen within the Vault. She strode through the opening, the small orb dutifully reappearing above her head. It was a short walk to a large, circular room, the last of them all. There was a round hole built into the wall, which gave her pause; though they had clearly lay dormant for eons, the energies of Oblivion could still be felt within.
As if sensing her predicament, her familiar manifested again, taking on the shape of the Undead Regent herself.
"Well, this is quite a find." -the vampire noted, crossing her arms.
"Indeed."
"Someone's disillusioned. Did meeting your ancestors disappoint you?"
Astrid scoffed. "They are long dead."
Serana hummed. "And yet you stink of Necromancy."
The Dragonborn chuckled. "Aela is wonderful, but letting you smell me is not exactly part of her abilities."
"For which I am most thankful. No, I just see the skull rolling behind you."
Astrid turned. "Ha! It seems Agatha wishes to visit Earth, too."
Her Regent raised an eyebrow. "Is that where you're going? Earth? Rather boring name, if you ask me."
"No doubt. However, it is where we come from. Nords, Imperials...perhaps even the Redguards. They came from this Vault's survivors. They appear to have mixed with the Giants of the time."
Serana pondered Astrid's findings for a time. "Firenor is going to have a field day with this." -she muttered. "I don't suppose you know where this world can be found?"
"Not a clue." -Astrid admitted, staring chagrined at the broken terminal beside the portal. "I shall send you my location as soon as I arrive."
"Oh, you impatient oaf." -she sighed, fondly. "Will you not at least wait for a team from the College to confirm your findings?"
Astrid waved her off. "Adventure awaits no one, my friend, and I haven't had a good one in an age or two. I have a feeling this quest will be one to remember."
The Dragonborn's consort nodded, her answer already expected. "Very well. I shall watch over your worlds, Astrid. Go, and conquer our next."
With that said, Serana's image morphed back into an expectant direwolf. Astrid pat her head, then began to examine the portal. The terminals had mentioned it ran on something called a fusion core. The cores had run out, forcing them to shut the portal down, and thus their hopes of returning. Examining the power cables nearby led to a console, affixed to the wall. A small, round niche next to a trio of buttons labelled 'Start', 'Cycle Core', and 'Eject' must've been the core receptacle.
It was also just about the right size for her idea.
Rummaging through the enchanted pack behind her waist, she grabbed a black soul gem, filled. She checked it against the small opening, finding it just a little too thick. Rolling her eyes, she pulled the Blade of Woe from the sheath strapped to her leg, and shaved off a few slivers until it fit. She also cut a little divot into the base of the gem, so it would make better contact with the conductive material at the end of the small tube. Astrid smiled fondly, as Aela curiously sniffed the discarded gem fragments.
Energy was energy, she reasoned. Whether it came from a fusion core, or the soul of a wicked man, it didn't really matter. Soul gems were also incredibly versatile, able to power any kind of enchantment imaginable. Satisfied with her handiwork, she punched the button that said 'Start'. The generator sputtered once, twice, and then loudly hummed to life, the black soul gem glowing a beautiful indigo as it channeled the infinite energies of the Soul Cairn. Aela howled, excited, as a swirling vortex appeared, rich with the power of Oblivion. The back of Astrid's gauntlet lit up with the unmistakable daedric symbol to confirm this.
Astrid Frost-Wyrm did not look back as she stepped into the portal, her enormous familiar in tow, for Earth awaited the glory of her Empire.