Harbinger loomed. The Dark Space was a void unending, the galaxy beneath the congregation so far, far away. He was unsure of why he was awake, as no signal had come from Sovereign, the Vanguard, but for the moment his ancient systems rumbled with active power. His red gaze tilted over the cosmos spanned out in front of him, his limbs curling lightly with great potential.
He saw, with a narrowing set of lenses, a distortion. One of the great arms of the galaxy warped for a moment in a shimmer of chaotic energy, and then returned to normal, but with anomalies. Harbinger felt more of his systems come online, his frame beginning to glow with energy and the blue lines up his carapace igniting with a flash. He thrummed his vocalization protocols, and the nearby members of the congregation roused from their sleep. Within fractions of a second the entire force of the reapers, several million strong, focused upon the phenomena.
Vision switched to the Great Oculus, a device they had created for far distant viewing into the galaxy beneath, as even their great red eyes could not observe such a distance. The ultimate camera flickered to life, and zoomed in, and in, and in. Worlds that had been vacant were now filled. Systems that had no traffic were now bustling. Strange and illogical happenings were occurring—gravity wells in weird places, new races that had never been documented before, and…conflict. The entire arm of the galaxy was lit up in an unending firefight. Several cycles passed as the reapers bore witness, simply observing the galactic scale battle.
It was disturbing to see such power in the hands of those that were not they. Planets were torn asunder with eldritch power. Literal gods walked between the stars, using unfathomable abilities to combat their equals in eternal struggle. And at opposite ends of the arm, with one at the far tip and the other close to the black hole in the center of the galaxy, were two…intelligences. They were so powerful that the reapers could sense them even from dark space. So powerful that the observation went both ways. Harbinger knew exactly what the sensation of a greater mind pressing down on another's felt like—he did it quite often.
He did not like the sensation of it happening to him. He glanced in all directions, to his comrades. While his mind was the greatest of them, and utterly impenetrable to the weight of the two intelligences, several of the others seemed to crack under the strain, their carapace literally breaking under the strain of trying to keep their minds' their own. He eliminated those too weak with a sweep of his molten beam, and let the rest fight their own struggle. It was an insult to his existence that such a thing could happen.
Yet, they waited. The conflict was limited to the arm itself, and the intelligences relieved their pressure after several cycles. For some reason, all relays had been deleted within that expanse of space, and it did not appear that any of those within were interested in exiting. Harbinger sent the call for Sovereign to monitor the arm, and sent a contingent of reapers to observe from a closer distance, and went back to sleep. It was a set of unforeseen variables. Too many things had happened at once, and further analysis was required before deciding the date of the next harvest.
Deep in its core, the synthetic lifeform shuddered, as it fell to the dream it usually resided in. Would its forces even be able to harvest those involved in the war?
It felt a sliver of doubt, but cast it aside for pride.