"An Iconian gateway," Gregs says, as he stares the fearsome archway down. He moves closer, and even touches the alien machinery, feeling the cool, alien metals beneath his hands.
"Do you see now, Son of Air, why we brought you here, why you alone can accept our gifts," Zeus says, "You understand what this archway is, why it is dangerous, why we need to defend ourselves from the Daemons, whose technology this gateway to Hel is taken from." Gregs rubs the pillar, feeling the technology beneath it thrum even while inactive at the moment. "Our ancestors, the beings who sent Ouranos and his kin out of Andromeda, to this galaxy, took the design, the technology of the Daemons," Zeus continues, awing Gregs, "Before the Daemons were our enemies, once they were our friends, and shared with us their technology; though its designs were altered so as not to cross the Daemons own network." At this Zeus frowns, his voice reflecting this change to a more somber tone.
"Daedalus was a genius, one of the few humans to ever attain divinity for his service to the gods, and with his intellect boosted further by the Ambrosia, he could understand this technology, yet he wished to go further, to become one with the very things he watched over," Zeus continues, "He proceeded to bypass ancient and hidden traps, secrets we nor Daedalus should have ever known, and found himself wrought into a conduit by the arcane technology, and tapping into energies without a cipher to handle it, he was filled with immeasurable and incomprehensible knowledge which drove him madder than any of us had ever seen a person be; no doubt Daedalus saw this, even as he was consumed by madness and directed by some deep rooted knowledge to build a filter in his mindless haze."
"A filter, such the Brazen head may be, but wise, no, only sass responds the head of Daedalus," Odin says, "Where ye to get three words beyond 'I ask thee', the head would spit back in venomous tone your words, twisted and reviled, as if you were the Cobra and he a Babe in harm." Odin looked crass at the revelation of the Brazen Head's creation, knowing full well how it reacted, and turned to Gregs. "That head was nothing but trouble, it was why we left it to rust on Nibiru, knowing full well if we could not get it to speak, we had no fear that others pleas could fall on its ears," he says matter-of-factly, "Even though you think we are stubborn lad, that head twice, if not thrice, be as stubborn as I alone; had Daedalus not given it a brain to respond with perhaps we wouldn't be here now, asking you for assistance..."
"You said Ambrosia changed him into something like you?" Gregs says, "Does that mean whatever drove him mad reacted to the Ambrosia?" At this Zeus shakes his head.
"No, Ambrosia, the food of the gods that would sustain us eternally was not what changed us, but it was a potion to turn our blood into Ichor, the blood of our kin, so that we could use Ambrosia to its fullest extent and to allow us to become immortal," Zeus says. At this Zeus takes a knife from Odin, and showing his palm to Gregs, slashes his hand, which causes golden droplets to fall onto the polished stone below, as the wound mended itself near instantaneously. "Whatever this was reacted to Daedalus' own goals, reacting to his thirst for knowledge and overwhelming him," Zeus continues, "His immortality merely kept him alive, while whatever he found ate away his mind in exchange; as his body attempted to hold ancient knowledge not meant for a mortal, or even an immortal."
"And yet you still want to find this machine, with the danger it clearly poses to you?" Gregs replies, "If it killed one of your brothers, what's to say it couldn't kill me?"
At this Osiris smirks. "The devices were destroyed long ago, Son of Air, when we fled Nibiru as it hid itself away," he says, "Whatever Daedalus had done, caused Nibiru to retreat into the Aether, forcing us to flee lest we turn to air and return to the earth, as Hel itself engulfed us all and brought Ragnarök early." At this Osiris looks troubled. "We managed to remove a Gate long ago, leaving it hidden on our home planet in case such an event like this would happen; one that would force us to retrieve it," he continues, "But we could not reactivate it or fear the Daemons would learn of Nibiru, so we waited for it to open, for it to reactivate, and it did, centuries ago after we had settled here; our Pantheon having fled our own home to search for new followers to restore our power, and its activity consumed our attention."
"We were once still many, but many brave Brothers and Sisters sacrificed themselves to enter the Gate, all lost to time now," Zeus continues, "We are the only ones left now, and we plead for your help, if our Children have reached the stars, then perhaps you are worthy to solve the mysteries we could not." He removes a pendant from a bag at his hip, and offers it to Gregs, with Osiris and Odin doing the same, with a bow and sword respectively. "We have conserved our power for such a day as this, choose now, one of our gifts and the power that comes with it, or even a weapon from our reliquary, one belonging to our fallen brethren," Zeus says, "And enter Nibiru as our chosen hero, retrieve the Brazen Head of Daedalus, and restore us our knowledge."
Seeing the way they look at him, seeing the items of power they offer him, he has no choice but to leave for a moment the gate room and return to the armory they had passed through. Gregs hesitates for a moment, choosing to look around the reliquary, and sees his choice, going for the item that catches his interest for its uniqueness.
(((((((o))))))))
/Nibiru\\\\\
Gregs barely manages to exit the gateway on his two feet, before seeing nothing but stone walls in front of him. He immediately recognizes the architecture though, as Grecian or Roman in origin, though it may have been the decaying skeletons of humans and their garb that cinches that deduction. He immediately sees grooves in the oddly metal floor, and measures their depth, noticing something very heavy was being dragged by someone very big, and for quite some time. He also notices what appears to be the entrance of the maze, no visible light source apparent except for torches on the walls.
He hears a sound, a soft rumble of course, though it may be something unseen under the ground, until he heard the heavy 'thunks' indicating footsteps. Not trusting his ears, and not wanting to jump to conclusions, Gregs quickly decides to risk it and enter the maze, hugging the satchel holding his 'weapon' close to him.
(((((o)))))
Above Earth, Unknown Time
"Your name is Kukulkan, you are my last son," a man says, wheezing, "I am too far gone, I'm burning up from the inside out." He hands the young child a device, a pyramid of crystal and clay. "I give you a gift, the gift of knowledge, as I cannot give immortality without Nibiru," he continues, "But on this ship, with its technologies, you will be virtually immortal, untouchable by my Brothers and Sisters, and have technology far beyond their capabilities at your disposal."
"Yes Father," the wide eyed child says, "But what about the planet below?" He looks to the screen showing the blue marble below. At this the old man smiles.
"They are our Children, Kukulkan, our successors, but only if they are lead out of their warlike state, my son," he stops and violently coughs up blood, wiping it away before he continues, "But they are not like us, our blood flows golden as Ichor, theirs runs red like the ore in their planet, and yours son is much like theirs, but it will run golden after you drink this." Producing a vial filled with a black liquid with swirls of gold, he hands it to his son. "Drink, and join us, changed from your mortality into a god of peace," the man says, "The potion is- incomplete, but as so far as you remain on this ship, your life is unending."
Taking the vial in his little hands, the cap is removed by his father. Entranced by the swirling gold within, he brings the brew to his lips and drinks it.
Earth, Egypt; Unknown Time
Kukulkan, the winged serpent, oversaw the construction of the temple personally, appointing Imhotep as his voice to the people of this planet. As of now Kukulkan was currently waiting patiently in his electronic form on the surface, for Imhotep to return to the Priest's room. Walking into the room, and noticing the winged from of his master, Imhotep kneeled. "Get up, Imhotep, I am not your god Ra, you need not bow, as I have spoken before to you," he says disapprovingly to the kneeling man. At that the man stands and bows.
"That may be true, you are no Ra, but you are worthy of such praise, Lord Kukulkan," Imhotep replies, "You have brought the Lower and Upper valleys together for the first time since our people had been visited by the Gods themselves." He manages to remove a papyrus scroll from the belt at his waist. "But I come with troublesome news, it appears by the calendar you have provided us we will not get the necessary materials here without additional assistance," he reports, "Our kingdoms builders have all but been exhausted, slaves have died and marauders nip at our fringes of land; we are not going to finish before the allotted time."
Kukulkan nods, seeing what this man was getting at. "Then I am afraid I will move on," he replies to Imhotep, "I will return as many times as necessary, perhaps you will be a worthy people again in time." At this the man looks fearfully to the corner of his room, where an object lay on a pedestal. "Don't worry, Imhotep, that device is no longer necessary to me," he says, "You may do with it as you please, bury it with the temple and your King, if you must; your gods have left and will probably not return here, and I have all the time of this world to retrieve it." Nodding, Imhotep bowed, as the electronic visage of the winged serpent returned to whence it came.
Egypt, Excavation of Pyramids
"This tomb is empty, just like all the others," the man translated from Egyptian to the British surveyor, "Perhaps we should move on to another site, or search for a hidden passageway, before the Pharaoh's Curse begets us all." Nodding the British archeologist listens to the shouts of another excavator, and quickly rushes out of the room.
Meanwhile, the Egyptian man pockets the item he had found, shortly hidden in the folds of his robe before the ignorant researcher had found it in his possession. He knew the lost language conveyed by the hieroglyphics, his family have been charged with their sacred meanings, ever since the fall of the great Alexandria library. He knew the cursed item was a risk, but he could easily sell this to another man if it was too much trouble, an artifact like this would be of great value, and show the true power of the Pharaoh's curse if the owner was not careful. Leaving the Pyramid, the former Temple pillaged and taken by the Pharaoh Djoser, he took Kukulkan's last gift to his Temple, and disappeared into the desert sands.
1906, Somewhere in Rhode Island
'Find it, Howard, please,' his best friend, Jervas had pleaded, 'Find it and prove that it's there.' Breaking the padlock, Howard descended into the mausoleum, intent to prove that his friend was not mad, that the monster called to him from beneath the stone and marble labyrinth named Hyde, the teen would prove his friend not insane.
There, where he had said it was, the name plate of brass and stamped with the name 'Jervas' on a slab of polished granite. But he had to see inside, if the beast was entombed inside within the statue like the nightmare had predicted. Reaching up to grab a corner of the granite slab, he pulls with all his might to remove the slab, slowly moving the heavy slab of rock away. There! Howard quickly reaches inside the empty sarcophagus, pulling out the metal antique box, and retrieving the figure inside it.
Surprisingly it was made of porcelain, its visage strikingly similar to his friend Jervas, stamped with the initials 'J.H.', and yet it was contrasted by the clay and crystal pyramid held between the statues hands. Thumbing the sparkling crystal, he was captivated by it even in the darkness of the tomb. Suddenly the pyramid falls into his hand, surprising Howard as it separated from the porcelain doll. Quickly pocketing the pyramid, he replaces the doll into the box, attempting to hurry out of the mausoleum, knowing full well a lightning storm had been on the horizon, the youth fleeing into the darkness across the backdrop of arcs of light.
An Unknown Time
He woke once again from the horrifying darkness he found himself in, night after night. Months, years, since the death of his friend that night, after he was seized by the grim reaper, his faulty heart was filled with such joy, it had simply stopped; Howard was seized with the guilt of keeping the pyramid of clay and stone. He dreamed of horrible monsters in cities beneath the blue waves, primordial monsters from the time before humanities rise, the beginning of time itself, as it were.
They spoke in tongues he could not understand, yet he would remember the words and translate them as best as he could into the written word, a medium he knew fit well, as if a story was unfolding before him with each word written. Yes, he would write and tell the tale, the tale the one he could only pronounce as Cthulhu.
Sometime in 1937
His hand barely could be raised anymore, he knew it was time. Dialing his old friend, Howard waits quietly in his bed until his friend comes. With a knock, the man enters the Lovecraft home, meeting his friend Howard. "You said it was urgent Howard, what is it man?" his friend asks, "What could be so important as to call me in the middle of the night?" Howard looks carefully from his impromptu bed in the sitting room, the only place his Aunt had space.
"It's time, Alex, I need you to make sure this is delivered to someone in Wisconsin," H.P. Lovecraft tells his companion, "I will be sad I can't do this in person...but I cannot do it now, for my time draws near..."
"Yes Howard, I'll make sure," he replies, before taking something clasped in his friends hands, "I wish you well in your journey." He departs, leaving his dying mentor to his sorrow, unable to look the gaunt man in the eyes. "Geb ya fhtagn llll shugg'ag,"Alex hears the man say as he leaves, "Here I await, dreaming of tomorrow."
/~\\\\\
2027
"My name is Rose, Rose Kumagawa," the young woman introduced herself, "My great-great-great-grandfather wrote a book, and I received a letter stating I was to come here to receive an antique that rightfully belonged to him..." She said to the older woman, who introduced herself as a Ms. Derleth.
"Ah, my great grandfather would be so proud to learn a descendant of Chambers would be getting this back," she says, grabbing something out of her ancient leather purse, and handing her something hard and swaddled in cloth, "Promise me, though, that you won't open it here Miss Kumagawa, go home please." Her request wasn't hard to grant, and Rose just couldn't say no, pocketing the item without even looking. Thanking her Rose returned home, where she went to open the mysterious gift she had been contacted about, and finds only a clay and crystal pyramid.
That night all Rose thought of was the stars, calling back to the stories she had grown up on in her youth, as well as the experience she once had. Choosing to open such a book on her bedside, Rose is enraptured by the contents, and slips into a dreamless sleep, not noticing the pulsing pyramid, nor the disappearance of the soft glow in the morning.
2032
She had brought it as a joke, she didn't think it would be the cause of their current predicament. Andrei and herself we're currently stranded on Mars, after John had reported something coming towards the Ares IV, and the two scientists had lost contact with their eye in the sky. The pyramid was one of the few things they let go with her onto the mission, Rose assumed it was due to the old hoaxes about pyramids on Mars at the beginning of the 21st century. She had brought it down with her to the planet last night, and had sworn that it was refracting the odd morning glow, seemingly enhancing the greenish light of the sun.
She had it with her now, even two weeks later, and she finally made her decision. They had been contacted two hours ago, by a rescue ship sent to retrieve them, and they were thankful they didn't have to ration their food anymore, but they had to pack light to have enough thrust to escape the Martian atmosphere. She had gone far enough out, and planted the pyramid at her feet, leaving it openly reflecting the suns ray's, before returning to camp. She would dream of the stars no more, but after losing John the luster of the stars was smudged by the rusted sands of Mars, and she feared their beauty would forever be tainted. Breathing in, she could finally feel free of the invisible weight that had been put upon her shoulders.
/ Months Later, Mars Surface \\\\
It had been a long time since she had watched the cold sands of Mars blow across the barren plains. She could not visit Earth now, it was no longer her home, but Mars, Mars was the closest she could get without exhausting her reserves of energy. Six thousand years of isolation, outcast from her brethren, she had thought she had seen it all; from their Children's machines landing on Mars, too soaring outside their own star system with unmanned devices', she had to be careful to not expose herself more so then past hundred years before. And yet here was something she had been watching for since its rediscovery in the past three centuries, a device Daedalus had taken great care of to hide before he put his plan into motion.
Anesidora was surprised when Nibiru had momentarily drawn an ellipse into this part of space, but she was more surprised to find this extraterrestrial object no longer concealed on Earth; it was no wonder the home world had been drawn into this part of space. She merely hoped It hadn't realized the device was here. She had to go, she had to find any one of her kinsmen who could help her conceal the device, and hide it from Them, as well as It.
She felt sorrow for her Children...
She knew It would be satisfied for a while, testing its new playthings and concealing its activities, but she had to flee from two enemies now, before either found her with the Pyramidion. Retrieving her box which was the only possession she had every kept from her previous life, a gift from her Father crafted completely from Carmot, she decidedly placed the ancient device into the box, sealing it in a way only the worthy could open. She would mourn the loss her Children felt today, as she too stood helpless to stop the ellipse, not without alerting her enemies; for now she would keep moving forward, hopefully running into someone who could help her.
(((( /O\ ))))
2302
The woman was in shackles, cast onto the marble floor like an animal brought before the slaughter. "Ares, you fool, how long will you follow their mad ideas," she spits out venomously, "Eris, Deimos, Phobos, how long are you going to follow them Uncle until you are next, until the Helhounds call for thee?"
At that the warrior above her smiles. "I serve our Father loyally, unlike you Anesidora," he says coldly, "And a warrior understands that sacrifices need to be made, and to never get to attached to those below you."
"I forgot how heartless you were Uncle, I guess its fitting they would use you until you yourself were used in turn," Anesidora replies, "How can you not even regret this, hunting down your family to send them to their deaths?"
"To their death, is that where you think they're sending them?" he chuckles, "Oh, my dear Anesidora, you never listened very well; though that's not hard to understand since you're made of Clay." He grabs her shackles and drags her to her feet. "Dear little 'niece', I've not been just hunting down our family for their goals," he replies, "One of us is lying, one of us is not a god, they forced themselves into our lives, made us believe their lies, and they don't want to go back to Hel; I'm just trying to find out who it is, even if it was me and I'm lying to myself." Anesidora merely looks at the crazed god in abject horror.
"Your mad, you've gone crazy!" she says, "What have they done to you Uncle?" The man merely looks at her blankly, before shoving her towards the double doors. Knowing she won't get anymore answers, she changes her questions. "Where are you even taking me Uncle?" she says, "Our home world is constantly watched since Apollo's death, this Quadrant of space hasn't totally garnered the Daemons attention yet, and our own children have grown beyond us."
"That may be true in this quadrant of space, dear 'niece'" he replies from behind her, "But it appears Daedalus' tin soldier has been busy, an old seed planted from the Ten Realms has been found; we now have a new home far away from our Children now, with a working Gate to Hel, and I'm here to take you there." Now opening the grand doors, the vast bridge of the ship is revealed, showing trails of rainbow light around the ship.
"The Bifrost; I thought it was dispersed?" she says in awe, "The Daemons could easily track us in here!" Ares chuckles once more, while leaning down to pet the ethereal form of a Helhound, which had begun to growl at seeing the mark on Anesidora's arm. She anxiously covers the arm in fear, knowing full well this hound could drag her to Hel personally, held back only by the other Being on the bridge.
"Like I said, dear niece, it is very far away," he replies cryptically, "This was the final gift of Heimdallr, before he too was called to Hel; a ship that could create and travel the Bifrost anywhere, like gliding the slipstream of air on a planet, and now I use it to bring you Home."
"Home, hah," she replies bitterly, "It was never my home; my true home is the one place I could never freely visit, fearing I would be viewed like you, a monster, a god of death, not a person... perhaps death will suit me then." At that neither spoke again, leaving the remaining journey in silence.
(((( \O/ ))))
It was fortunate Gregs had stumbled across Pandora's box, carved with ancient runes and symbols he could not decipher. It spoke to him in a way none of the other weapons had, glowing with a warmth while the other weapons were nothing but cold and dark metal, reeking of death. It was a bit of a puzzle to figure out, but he wished whatever lay inside held the hope he so desperately needed to survive this maze.
\\\\\The Labyrinth, Now/
Heavy breathing, soft footsteps, a disturbance in the moss growing on the walls. Bones, broken and scattered, more so now than in the past, lay across the floor as if something tripped and fell going around a corner. Dragging his heavy club, the weight of which no ordinary man could lift, the bovine humanoid walked his hallowed halls. No God or Being would disgrace his fathers presence in these halls, save the deeper levels containing his brothers and sisters.
Ducking his crown of horns through another doorway, the Cretan warrior-king patrolled, hoping once more to find a warrior worthy enough to taste his club. The last, a mighty one called Ares, had lasted the longest and given him a mighty wound, taking out most of his sight in his right eye, but he had fallen in the end to his Carmot tipped club. Carmot, a weapon that could slay gods by neutralizing the effects of Ambrosia, starving their bodies of energy as the metal sapped them of their strength, with each blow or second spent near it another closer to Death.
Yes, he was a Judge, and his club the Executioner appointed by the very Gods themselves. He would hunt this new scent down, and he would judge them worthy or failures.
\\\\\o/
Gregs quickly moved between the various columns, choosing to mark each corner with a natural chalk he had found within the satchel he had been provided. After what he had assumed was an hours worth of walking, he had found himself back down a hall he had already visited, though the marking was smudged, as if by another occupant of this maze. Perhaps he hadn't been wrong to think another person was in this maze, as he noticed more of his next marking was smudged. Doubling back and going the opposite way, Gregs hastens, not wanting to meet the beast that prowled these halls.
\\\\\o/
He was curious now, this new being, it was wise, unlike the gods who came before it. It had left a powder behind marking the walls, a way to escape no doubt. He knew the man would come across this spot again, knowing full well the route taken had led enviably back to this spot, a loop meant to tire the desperate and confuse the thieves. His Father had been quite ingenious when he made this Labyrinth, leaving circles within circles, yet a pattern still obvious to those who could see it, marking the ways out. Perhaps this creature, this inhuman man, could discover what his predecessors could not. Perhaps once the new one realized the maze was inescapable, he would reveal himself fully.
\\\\\o/
He had not expected to fall and sprain his leg from a tripwire set up, most likely to foil the unwary. He hadn't even noticed the oddly placed weapon, and he was lucky he had durable leg armor on, otherwise he may have lost a leg. He was sunk if there was a monster in this maze, no doubt waiting in the shadows to strike, toying with him, as if knowing this maze was inescapable. Perhaps it was. Gregs had been following a vague pattern, there was very little change since he had begun to follow it, and he had yet to come across his own trail again.
He had heard the scraping of metal against stone, long before he saw or even smelled the hairy beast that was following him; it was inevitable that the thing had caught up to him. And here he was, trying to check if his ankle was sprained, and the beast was calmly watching him from the distance. Gulping but not trying to show fear, Gregs decided to stand, wincing only for a moment. "My name is Gregs Sharvan Son'aire, Captain of the U.S.S. Kh'tar, of the Federation of Planets and its allies," he says, trying to ease the tension. At that the Minotaur looks flatly at him, before raising his axe above his head.
Swiping at Gregs with the massive axe, he barely misses being hit, instead he is dragged sideways by the weapon catching on his satchel. Gregs falls limply to the floor, stunned by the sudden impact. Blood dripped down his lip, having bit his cheek, which pooled where Gregs lay, struggling to regain his breath. In the disarray his satchel, which held the relic inside, was ripped open, spilling chalks, cakes of hard grain, and Pandora's box. Seeing the box the Minotaur stops, intrigued by the elegant whorls and intricate carvings, which seem to shine even in the darkness of the Labyrinth. It stoops to pick it up, though as soon as its fingers brush the stone, it recoils in pain, dropping the large stone axe behind him, the beast is stunned, falling backwards in a daze, while kicking the box into Gregs reach.
Barely managing to lift himself from the impact and lack of kinetic armoring to cushion the blow, Gregs reaches out to touch the box. 'Open, You are worthy', a voice seemingly whispers in the back of his head, 'Answers will come, safety follows, Open!' Not to question the voice with a two ton monster opposite him, Gregs scours the box for a keyhole, a latch, even a wax seal he could break. There!
And with a 'creak' the box opened. To his surprise only a simple pyramid of clay and a crystal of some kind, lay inside the delightfully deceitful box, though a momentary burst of light as the box opened momentarily blinded him with dazzling sharpness. Perhaps it was the impact coupled with the flash, but Gregs was floored by a migraine and wave of nausea, which caused him to fall against the Labyrinth wall.
The Minotaur was the first to rise, as Gregs battled this new pain in his head. Leaving the pyramid and the box alone, the Minotaur chooses to lumber over towards Gregs, kneeling over him, and to the surprise of Gregs, helping him to his feet. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Gregs took in the full appearance of his enemy, seemingly turned ally, he noticed the very human eyes staring back.
"Wouldst thou mind, not staring to deep into my gaze, Son of Air," the Minotaur now speaks, "You need not fear me, as thou is revealed to be the chosen of Anesidora, of whom none shall need fear in Nibiru, Knave of true heart." Now freely grabbing the pyramidal structure from the box, the Minotaur observes it within his massive paw. "So this is where she hid it..." he says, before turning his attention to Gregs. Bowing slightly, as mush as the crown of horns atop his head allowed, the Minotaur addressed Gregs fully.
"Now I greet you properly Son of Air, my name is Icarus, former human and son of Daedalus, and currently a bovine Erinyes, a Host of Taurus, and the Guardian of 'Hel', as those errant gods call this place," the Minotaur, identified as Icarus, says, "I apologize for hunting you, but I am your test of courage, oh Chosen of Anesidora, a test to challenge those sent as their 'gods' champions, and the very 'Gods' themselves, dare they err and intrude on this most holy ground." Now moving, Icarus leads Gregs through many twists and turns, before leading to a very different Gateway room, this one half-buried in snow and ice. "Your test was done as soon as I had seen the artifact you carried, Son of Air," Icarus says, "This gateway will lead you to the realm of Nifelheim, where the four remaining tests of purity lay, held by my brethren the Ice Giants, a test of body, heart, mind, and soul await."
Gregs looks at the ice and snow, thinking quickly, he turns to Icarus. Before a question could be asked, Icarus raised his hand in response to the inquisitive look. "I can no more answer your questions, as my duty as guard outweighs the knowledge of what lay beyond the gate, or of the tests," he replies, "I have as many questions as you, no doubt, and the answers you seek lay within the heart of Nifelheim, with my brothers and sisters." With that Gregs goes to the gate, but pauses to look back, afraid but confident he could survive the remaining trials. He freezes, seeing a figure in black fade into the shadows of the maze, as if it was immaterial. Shaking it off as a byproduct of the head trauma he no doubt now had received; he now looks forward and steps into the unknown.
(((((O)))))
Passing through the inky void between space in the blink of an eye was chilling enough, but the bone chilling air in Nifilheim was just that, chilling Gregs to his core, his normally hot tempered body distressed without proper cold gear to offset the airflow. Desperately trying to warm up, Gregs moves forward, hoping to stumble across something in the white void of snow flurry before him. Catching the glimpse of a fire on the horizon, Gregs quickly moves forward, hoping to catch whoever built it, knowing full well it was a trap yet desperate for any source of heat. Stumbling in the cold snow, he falls short of reaching the pyre, roaring flames just out of reach, which the faintest hint of heat rolling onto him.
"My, my, a visitor after so long... Icarus must be getting soft if he's let two of you go through here in the last century," a voice says off to the right of Gregs, who feebly looks up from his position in the snow, only to see a Andoria, extremely dark color splashed within his skin, leaving a strange pattern. The figure grabs hold of Gregs, dragging him closer to the fire, and propping him up and onto a rock. Handing Gregs a steaming cup, he makes for the other side of his encampment, where an unseen tent and equipment stand in the snow. "Strange to see another being this far out though," the Andorian says, "After all this is the middle of a raging blizzard, not some beach planet with fair skies and cool water on a hot day." Walking back over to Gregs, he is quickly encompassed within the warmth of some blanket, probably an animal skin of some sort. "Good thing I had this too, or you might just have had frostbite between your fingers and toes," the Andorian chuckles, "My name is Thirizaz, and it was a good thing I was here, or you would be dead, Gregs Son'aire." At that Gregs was instantly wary, having not told the man his name.
"Ah, don't worry, word travels fast here, Icarus told me of your journey and your identity," the mysterious Andorian says, "I'm not here to test you, that is my siblings duties, I'm the Andoria here just to make sure you survive to the place where they will test you." At that the fire flares up, heating Gregs even further, before he notices flickers of the flames seemingly dancing over Thirizaz's fingertips and embers dancing between his hands. "Very well," the man says getting up, "Now that your bones are no longer frozen, perhaps it is time to move on?" Discarding the drink and the blanket, Gregs moves to find himself very warm and oddly unaffected by the raging blizzard around the two men.
"Don't think much into it, Gregs, or you may just find that chill back in your bones," the Andorian says, holstering an Ushaan-tor and continuing to walk into the blizzard, unaffected by the sheering winds. Gregs obediently follows, unable to do anything, though he hesitates when he sees a flicker of shadow in the corner of his eye. Turning and seeing no one, he quickly moves to catch up with the Andorian. Meanwhile the third figure stands unabashed at being seen, knowing that the time would arrive to reveal its presence.
/
Trudging up the icy hills was only one problem, safely crossing treacherous snow plains where one could easily go in circles, all while attempting to find some hint of where to go next, is another problem entirely. Tiring of the walking, Gregs chooses to close the slowly growing distance between the Andorian and himself. "Tell me, what is it I'm being tested for, by whom, and for what purpose?" He asks the stoic Andorian, who merely smiles in response.
"Tell me, who are you, why do you look Andorian?" Gregs asks the man over the howling windstorm, "I know you're older than you look, if 'Gods' are involved." At that the Andorian man chuckles.
"Quite right, quite right, no need to fret, I'm not leading you into a trap, not like Zeus or Odin or Osiris had," the Andorian says, "And please Gregs, call me by my name, Thirizaz, Thiri, if you will." The Andorian stops to let Gregs catch up, pulling out the Ushaan-tor and handing it to Gregs who puts it on his belt, before pointing off in the distance to a certain area. "That way is where you'll be heading, Gregs, you'll find my sister Zheusal guarding the entrance," he says, "I can go no further, and I cannot share with you the answers you seek, but find by brethren, and you will find your answers to most of Nibiru's secrets." At that the man brings up a white cloak to cover his head, before turning back to the way they came. "Oh, and Gregs, trust your instincts," he says, "And pay attention to that little voice inside your head." With that he is off, leaving Gregs confused while watching him leave, before Gregs turns back to face the point Thirizaz had pointed to.
Gregs blinks for a moment, as he swore he had just seen a black robed figure in the snowstorm. The figure, if there ever was one, had already gone, and shaking his head Gregs merely trudges on into the snow.
\*\*\*\
He had noticed it gradually of course, the snow seemingly piling up in font of him onto the horizon, he merely had assumed it was a trick of the mind. Now here he stands near the front of an obsidian mountain, pure, black stone unmarred by pure white snow. Finding an entrance was his next task, when he catches sight of a figure in the distance, blue skin shining against both black and white. Trudging quicker, Gregs finally notices an entrance behind the blue skinned woman in front of him.
"Halt intruder, I am Zheusal, protector of this mountain," the female Andorian says, "Explain to me how you've come to my mountain, and perhaps I may let you pass." Now a spear emerges from the snow, as if growing from the ground itself, composed of the same obsidian as the mountain. Taking hold of it, the woman lifts it from its spot, and brandishes it, pointing it at Gregs. "Tell me, young one, how you survived a raging blizzard," she says, lowering the spear to her side, "No mortal man can survive Nifelheim's frost without the help of a God, speak now or your death will be quick!"
"Whoa, hold it, I did have help-" Gregs pauses and ducks the spear that flew past his head, "-I was helped by your brother Thirizaz!" The woman's empty hands were quickly filled by a second spear, this time thinner than the last, but possibly shaper than the last.
"A likely story, since you know we can never meet and corroborate your tale," the woman replies, "If he did help you, Thirizaz would have given you a symbol of his approval, a token of his blessing." Coming closer to Gregs, and brandishing the spear near his neck she pauses noticing his satchel. With a quick slice the strap came apart, the satchel already in her arms and its contents being dumped into the snow, save the meager provisions he had which Zheusal quickly pocketed into her own pouches at her side. Finding the box and the pyramid in front of her, Zheusal quickly becomes alert, stepping back as if in fear. Suddenly forming out of the obsidian mountain, a nightmarish creature drags itself out of the snow pile.
\Akhlut,\ a voice says in the back of his mind. The beast is a meter in height, furless and smooth skinned splotched with black and white patterns mistook for snow at first, four legged canine in appearance, with a mouth of full of sharp and wicked looking teeth, and yet distinct gills on the side of the head and neck make it overall look amphibious. All Gregs knew was it was dangerous and set warning bells off in the back of his head, fear overriding his thinking.
Instantly the beast stood in front of Zheusal, growling in warning at Gregs, before it was joined by a 2 meter tall animal Gregs almost mistook for an albino gorilla, before deciding the humanoid posture it was taking made it more like an equivalent of the Earth cryptid known as the 'Yeti'.
Flanked by both creatures, Zheusal lowers her spear, knowing she need not threaten the man with both beasts at her side. "Where did you get Lady Anesidora's possession's?" she asks, "The 'Gods' sent her here and took her only hope away, I ask how you managed to wrest such a priceless treasure from their grasp, trickster!" Suddenly the first creature, the 'Akhlut' sniffs the pyramid, before a cascade of sparks are set off at its nosing. Yelping the beast leaps free, with Gregs hesitantly picking the pyramid up seconds later, stopping the shower of sparks.
"My name is Gregs Sharan Son'aire, I chose the box without knowing what was in it, the ones who sent me here didn't seem to have knowledge of it's package either," he replies, "I don't know who Anesidora is, but assuming she's also known as Pandora, Icarus thinks this device is of importance or significance of some kind, he even called me Anesidora's 'Chosen'." Narrowing her eyes at him, Zheusal merely lowers her weapon, it disappearing into the ground, followed by the disappearance of the 'Yeti' into the blizzard and the Ankhlut back into its den, now uncovered from the snowdrift hiding it.
"Very well, Chosen of Anesidora, you speak the truth, your heart is in the right," she replies, "It would not have mattered, the test was done as soon as I saw the Ushaan-tor on your right flank." Gregs turns to see the weapon hanging from his belt, unknowingly swinging free.
"Then the test..." Gregs says.
"Thirizaz's possession was proof of his trust, a device so necessary in Nifelheim would not be given out freely, meaning you were of good heart," she replies, "I merely wished to see how you would react to my pets, the Ankhlut is a fierce and loyal hunter, while the Tsu'l Kal is a brutish and cunning protector, your revelation of truth in face of adversity cemented your worth." At that she steps aside, revealing a crack of an opening into the cave. Once inside the deceptively small entrance, a grander cave revealed a row of sticks covered in what is assumed to be oily rags, with a simple fire hidden from the roaring cold winds just inside the mouth of the cave. "Light the stick with the fire and use the time you have wisely," Zheusal calls from just outside the mouth of the warm cave, "Follow your eyes or your heart, and let the river be your guide." Not wanting to give up the chance for a light to guide him in the cave, Gregs quickly takes the items provided, while holding the pyramid in his left hand, as he was now down a satchel.
\\\
Walking into the cave structure was like walking into pitch black darkness with a match instead of a torch. The obsidian mountain continued inside, walls reflected and polished by the heat that formed them, naturally or artificially was unknown, but reflective and blinding all the same with the makeshift torch in his hand. Before setting off Gregs had grabbed the remaining items he could salvage from his satchel, which was reduced to scraps: a small phaser hidden in his boot, a ripped out pouch and pocket for the pyramid to be put into, a piece of chalk, and a hopefully working tri-corder retrieved from the snow. He hopped the chalk would come in handy here, as getting lost in a maze of endless, possibly volcanic, tunnels did not sound appealing after the day he's had so far with all the close calls. Marking his turns in the dimming light of the torch, Gregs walks as best as he can on the uneven terrain, hopping the next corner doesn't lead him straight down a slippery slope or have him climbing up an impossible cliff face.
Finding himself right back at the beginning was unsettling, and his sense of Deja Vu was starting to flare up. After a few more tries with different turns mixed in, Gregs came to the conclusion that this was going to be impossible to try out all the combinations of twists and turns with what remained of his torch. He decided to risk it and grab another torch, stepping back into the outer cave, only to find out he was in a funnel trap, easy to squeeze in, impossible to get out at this angle without getting a few scars and some bleeding issues. With time running short as the torch grew dimmer and lowered to the handle, Gregs hurried.
/\\/\\/\\/\\/\
Finally the fire was too close to his hands, he dropped the torch and waited as it dimmed, still consuming the final part of wood composing the torch. Suddenly a thought entered into his head, of what Zheusal said before his entrance into the cavern, that the river would be his guide. He hadn't heard any sound of water, and the volcanic, obsidian walls showed no sign of being cut by water obviously, so why was a river important...
Why was he assuming it has anything to do with water anyways, now that he thought about it she had never mentioned water, just that a river would guide him. Walking over to the smoldering remains of the torch, Gregs firmly places his boot to smother the dying embers. Waiting a good five minutes, Gregs gets the results he wanted by merely looking above him. On the ceiling and parts of the walls was an amazing sight he had rarely seen, having only been spelunking once before on New Romulus where a similar fungi produced bioluminescent light. In shades of green and light blues were something that coalesced into what could fittingly be called a 'river' of light, curving and turning between the caverns like a real river would bend and flow. He had even begun to see a shift in stone, instead of obsidian, it seemed limestone now blended into the cavern walls.
Enjoying his new guide, he quickly follows every turn until he hears an unusual roaring in his ears. Not wanting to get excited, he patiently follows the river, knowing how deceptive the sound of water in an echoing chamber and how reverberations through caves could accidentally lead him off a cliff in this darkness and very likely to his death, from the fall or by drowning, neither sounding quite appealing. Finally it appears to open up into a larger cavern, as the light now swirls up and around, covering the ceiling in the equivalent of a whirlpool of fungus of various shades of blue and greens, and even some white. It took some time before Gregs eyes fully adjusted to this new light source, when he notices yet another figure meditating in the center of this newest cavern.
"Hello Gregs, Son of Air, to the mouth of Nibiru's great source water," the female voice says, "My Brother and Sister informed me of your tests of Courage, Body, and Heart, and I will congratulate your passing of the test of Mind by following the Great River of light, once you extinguished your flame." The woman rises, pulling off a cloak to reveal her very Andorian appearance, before Gregs recognizes the signs that this woman was of the Aenar, as empty white eyes stared back at him, glowing in the reflection of the light. "I can sense your curiosity, your burning questions and thirst for answers," she says, "But I am afraid only our last Brother can sate your desire." She walks over to Gregs, before moving to feel the pyramid he had held onto in the scrap of cloth that was once a pocket of the satchel Zheusal had sliced open.
"Ah, Zheusal, of course my sister would have given you a disadvantage," she says, "I have a strip of cloth to mend your pocket, to replace what my sister destroyed in her blunt search of the truth." Taking the weighted object from his hands, Gregs hadn't realized how long he had been holding it for, nor how sore his arm had begun feeling. "I apologize, I hadn't realized how long it was you held this sacred object, or I would have directed you here sooner," the mysterious Aenar replies, "Oh, where are my mannerisms, I have forgotten to introduce myself, I am Shanchen, daughter of the goddess of knowledge, and of the warrior-king who was not whole." Bowing slightly, she retreats to a corner of the room, fading into the shadows a little.
"I've followed the river, it led me to you," he says, "You say I've already finished three tests, so what does the next one involve?" He looks around the room, noticing its sparseness, barely seeing anything beyond the edges where the glowing fungus ends.
"Next is the test of the Soul, the final test which proves whether you are Whole or not," she says, no appearing back out of the shadows, an impromptu and patchwork satchel made from the pocket in hand, "Your deeds will be weighed, your view of good and evil tested, and your questions will be answered depending on the results." Handing the bag, once again containing the pyramid after Gregs checks, he bows in thanks to the Aenar woman. Now it was her turn to point to another passageway out of the room, one Gregs did not see before. "There are your answers Son of Air, follow the passageway to the darkness, until you see the stars," she says, "There our last Brother waits, the guardian of Nibiru's composite knowledge since the fall of the 'Gods' and loss of our mother and father." Moving her hood back over her robe, she retakes her spot in the center of the room, returning to her meditation.
Seeing he was no longer needed here, and sensing Shanchen was returning to deeper things, Gregs leaves and enters the darkness of the next passageway.
\\%*%/
'Do the stars sing to you, Gregs Son'aire?' a voice says in the darkness, 'Do you know how old they boast they are?' Suddenly feeling cold, Gregs can't help but feel disturbed by the voice he hears singing in the darkness. He had been walking in the darkness for a few minutes now, with only silence as his companion, before this voice whispered in his ear, different than the one who spoke earlier. 'The Elder Gods are younger than the stars, yet still their age speaks wisdom,' it says, 'The young Gods are abrasive, arrogant, still feeling superior even after being dethroned by civil war.'
As he walks in the darkness, Gregs can't help but feel isolated and alone. Perhaps it was the coldness he was feeling, like the heat was being leeched from his bones now that made him shiver, but the telepathic voice in his head was a little disturbing. 'Disturbed you says, yet you are not alone when I sing in your mind,' the voice says, 'We have been alone for so long, our family unable to come together as one, as a Whole, not without causing us all grief and pain and remembrance.'
At that Gregs is no longer alone, as a white light blinks its way into existence. As he kneels to inspect the light, he realizes it is a little worm, similar to an Ice Bore, yet cool to the touch. Following it, the light it emits blinks out, before ten more join it, and more, and more, until Gregs is funneled into a large cavern, larger than the one before, surrounded by darkness and flashing lights. As he takes it all in, he realizes what masterpiece is before him. The galaxy, the Milky Way Galaxy, lay before him in living art, turning as each light blinked into synchronization, resulting in a moving painting made of bioluminescent worms.
"I have not been alone since our family was split up," the voice says now, "My views of life have just changed, I'm no longer alone down here; I have the whole galaxy at my fingertips." With that a hand is put on Gregs shoulder, causing him to jump as another Aenar appears behind him. With a warm smile, the man motions for him to sit on a seat of stone. "Welcome Gregs Sharvan Son'aire, Chosen of Anesidora, protector of the Federation and enemy of the Iconians, our Daemons," the Aenar says, "This is the heart of Nibiru, a biological library of the universe, and I am their caretaker, Charaleas." At that the Aenar man sits, motioning for Gregs to follow suit.
"By biological library, I assume you mean the planets this... ship, has visited?" Gregs asks hesitantly, as the ceiling above continuously moves.
"Correct, though I would hardly call Nibiru a simple ship, more like... a small planet dedicated to the preservation and cataloguing of D.N.A. in what you call the Milky Way Galaxy," the Aenar replies, "I make sure these worms are kept safe, so that the symbiotic fungus that grows within them remains viable for extrapolation or addition of new genetic sources."
"Fungus, you mean..." Gregs says in awe, looking around the room in new light.
"Yes, a similar fungus to the natural mold found in the section of space called the 'Taurus Reach', the former foothold of the Shedai," he replies, "Though the Shedai were cataloguers of entire species, this strain has been reduced to only intake the D.N.A. of each star system visited, allowing it to be contained and kept viable by replacing the chemical reaction that produces body heat and allowing photosynthesis in the Ice Bores, who in turn pass on their own D.N.A. and a sample of the fungus to their children."
"Ingenious, albeit complicated and meticulous," Gregs says, "How do you even begin to move this planet across the universe, let alone take D.N.A. from whole worlds and compact it into a living organism." At that Charaleas smiles, before pointing to the center of the room, where suddenly a structure rises from the center of the cavern, and the ceiling dims, the Ice Bores restricting their light. Suddenly the room lights up in volatile colors of orange and yellow light, as Gregs observes what he hopes is merely a holographic representation of a very dangerous subspace phenomena.
"When Nibiru moves, it creates or takes advantage of a graviton ellipse in response to the desire to move, swallowing items whole through the ellipse, shunting them into subspace; it saves material to convert into fuel at a later date, or to stabilize the ellipse over a long jump, and in this time, if there are viable biological samples, they are recorded as well," Charaleas says, "It is a very volatile process and accidents do tend to happen with the unstable nature of the ellipse in play, such as in the early 21st century standard Earth calendar, the year 2032 specifically, when Nibiru entered the Earth's Solar System once more for a few seconds, drawing a powerful and ancient ellipse into near orbit of Mars."
'And sometime in 2376 it moves to the Delta quadrant and passes Voyager in its wake," Gregs, "My people, a starship that had been transported by an entity called the Caretaker, had come across that same ellipse in 2376, where they found the very spaceship caught in 2032 within..." Charaleas merely nods an affirmative, before turning back to the device at the center of the room, this time changing its view to just outside the Sol system, on the edge of the suns heliosphere.
"In 2037, Charbydis, another 'Earth' ship, accidentally enters Nibiru's space, its people are tested automatically by the ships systems, which draw occupants in it into subspace, all save one person, who is then transported to the place you call Theta VIII," the Aenar says, "He is left there because an updated D.N.A. profile of Humanity is already within the ships systems, and merely by chance Nibiru had jumped to another star system to establish whether there is any life after thousands of years left fallow." The device then changes to show the Theta 116 system. "It creates a home on the eighth planet for the Astronaut, a lifeless world, as Nibiru is unable to return to Earth with no knowledge of the planet in its databanks out of random jumps," the Aenar continues, "And in the heart of its programming, the intent to test species, it creates The Royale as his new home, an inescapable prison on an uninhabitable planet far from home, because by chance, he ended up there." At that the machine shuts down, returning both men to the starry darkness of the cave.
"What of the original caretaker, the one before you?" Gregs asks the Andorian.
"She, was our Mother, and she was infinitely wiser than us," he replies, "Uzaveh the Infinite, was the Mother of all Andorii, as the primitive Andorian's called themselves, she was infinite in knowledge, in wisdom, in war, and in peace."
"And?" Gregs merely asks.
"And? What else is there to say other than she was our Mother, an ideal one at that, she was our superior in everything," he replies, "She was Whole, she was an Andorii God, a progenitor of the Aenar, a telepath who from this very cave could speak to someone who had just entered Niflheim's gate." He looks into his hands, tracing unseen lines and patterns. "She was our mother, my brother and sisters, we were her progeny, and we are still not Whole, even after the passing centuries have changed us," he says, "Our Father changed her, he brought out a desire to leave the safety of Nibiru, to leave Godhood behind, withholding eternity from herself to have a life, to leave immortality in our blood so her legend, her family, could live on." Avoiding the gaze of Gregs for a moment, Charleas turns back to him.
"That wasn't like me, I'm afraid, how very mortal of me to become attached... such is the nature of life, is it not?" He dryly chuckles, "But I feel you have another question, and I wish to answer it, if I can." Nodding, Gregs removes the Pyramid from its makeshift satchel.
"Can you tell me why this is so special, why you all seem to think I'm 'chosen' because of it?" he asks. At that Charleas smiles, before taking the pyramid in his hand.
"It's not the pyramid, it's the box that makes you her chosen one," he replies, "The box you found this item in, it was made of a very special organic metal, grown only here on Nibiru, we call it Carmot." Gregs is handed back the Pyramid, who then puts it on his lap. "Carmot is psionically reactive, it can be programmed to accept only specific series of thoughts, or be able to scan it's holders thoughts," Charleas continues, "In this case, Anesidora wanted someone who was able to judge between right and wrong, someone impartial who could judge the Gods themselves; such as an outsider like you could have, as your alien biochemistry was unfamiliar to Nibiru at the time the Gods were formed."
"How can it distinguish that?" Gregs asks, "Biochemistry couldn't be tested by a psionic metal, not without some artificial intelligence behind it."
"Not artificial at all, my friend, as Nibiru is merely the name of the ship, but it is so much more," Charleas says, "Nibiru is alive, the psionic metal it is made of is more than just a conduit to channel energy, it is currently channeling the Dagon, the living intelligence placed within Nibiru to act as its caretaker by the Elder Gods, the architects of Nibiru." At that the floor below them lit up, channels of energy surging to life, trailing the walls in complex circuits, before settling back into the darkness and dim light of the worms.
"There was another thing, the item I was originally sent here for..." Gregs begins to ask. He is stopped by Charleas, who merely raises a hand.
"To tell you that, I must answer it with a story," Charleas replies, "At the end of the story you will understand what the Brazen Head is."
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