-| Introduction |-

Hello! Thanks for taking the time to read my work. This is not going to be one continuous storyline so much as it is a series of snapshots connected together in a common setting. None of the 'canonical' events in Gears 1, 2, or 3 will be altered, but a lot of suppositions will be made based on things hinted at in the game, and my own visions. Anyone who wishes to create their own works within this 'world' and link them to here is more than welcome.

Usual disclaimer: Gears of War and all it contains belong to Epic Games. I make no money from the distribution of this material. No copyright infringement intended.

"Treasonoussssss."

"If that is what you must call it, father." She stepped around the palace guard, swaggering, long tassels on her dress accenting her hip movements. Some might think that her bravado was due to the twenty-odd brutes behind her, weapons at the ready, but he knew better. She was always like this.

Myrrah. His beloved daughter. His greatest disappointment.

"You should know by now," she continued, "what it is I want, and how far I will go to claim it. I hope that extreme measures will not be necessary, however." Myrrah spoke in the strange alien tongue purposefully, to make him look illiterate and inelegant. It was purpose-made for her but his massive canines and heavy tongue could barely form the words. "Strange as it may seem, I respect you greatly."

"Ch'bash!" The behemoth female seated at his right stood, long robs a mirror image of the dainty hooded dress Myrrah wore. She pointed one rockworm-thick arm at the little figure standing with arms folded in front of the dais. "Menoch serl karach ni'margh meat ssiiilya!"

"Tell your petto address me in a more fitting manner if she wants a response," Myrrah snarled back. There was a sparking noise as the theron caste behind her raised their mag-bows and switched on the power nervously. The female was nearly twice their size with bulletproof hide, but Myrrah stood her ground defiantly.

Narthanc rose slowly from his throne, shrugging off the immense cape around his shoulders. Two thirds his mate's size, his bare chest and arms rippled with scaled muscle, the dark grey dots clustering around his head, neck and shoulders and sprouting into knobby bumps at the apex of his skull. He surveyed the assembled guards, firey eyes blazing from beneath heavy brow-plates. Six was not nearly enough to defeat him, his mate and the High Priest on his left, although the priest was positively dainty compared to them. Myrrah was no fool, though; he'd raised her better, and she had doubtlessly stationed legions more collaborators in the second-floor gallery that ringed the throne room, and they only needed to kill him to accomplish her goal. If he fought, he died. If he ran, he died. If he stood, he lived- for now, at least, but the chance was there.

"Your path foolish," he hissed. "Bring war to Hollows."

"War is already in the Hollows, father," Myrrah retorted. "Perhaps you do not see it from the comfort of the throne, but it is here."

"Children will die! Many deathssss!"

"They die already, father. Everywhere, the lambent hunt us. Savage animals, they listen to neither reason nor plea nor demand. Soon enough they will be here, in Nexus, and you… you are planning an alliance with the very scum that created them!" She spread her arms wide and looked up at the ceiling, drawing a round of grumbling from all corners of the room.

"Groundcrawlers strong. Groundcrawlers wise. Find cure."

Myrrah threw here head back and laughed theatrically. "Are you so bold, to say here in front of all assembled that your own childrenare not strong enough? Not wise enough? Father, where is your pride?" The mocking tone cut deeply, coming from one as close to his heart as her.

"Ffffenix…"

"Adam Fenix? He has accomplished nothing yet. Do you even know what he has done? Have you seen the inventions he has devised for use on his own kind? You are truly naïve if you think he will not turn his machinations against us in time. The groundcrawlers know only a selfish world, a world forever divided. Everything they touch is destroyed eventually. It is time for us to end their legacy of fire."

"You groundcrawler!" His temper flared, and a hush settled over the room at the slur he'd just leveled against his own daughter. His children loved her as much as they loved him.

She only smirked in response. "I was, before you took me. Before I was reborn in the Hollow. Thanks to you I am stronger than what I would have been, better than them. Strong and wise enough to see how ill-advised your plans are, if they will ever come to fruition."

Grimacing, Narthanc pointed at her. "Patience, daughter! Fenix prove trussst. You vital…. Duty to sssiblingss…" He struggled to form his ideas in the groundcrawler tongue.

Myrrah came forward, advancing slowly step-by-step up the royal dais. The female and High Priest advanced towards her but a wave from Narthanc caused them to fall back. The small figure came chest to chest with the hulking leader, staring into his eyes defiantly. He raised his massive taloned hands to embrace her shoulders, but she pushed past him haughtily. He turned to follow her as she stood directly in front of the throne, uncaring about the perfect shot he presented to the party of theron.

"Yes," she began, voice somber. "I am vital, but not in the trifling role you have raised me for." She reached into her dress and drew forth a wickedly curved knife, as long as her forearm. She grabbed his hand, pressing the hilt into his palm and curling his fingers one by won around the blade, then lifted it up to her throat. He offered little resistance as she gripped his hand tightly, her own barely large enough to go around his palm, and pushed the blade into her skin.

"Why do you govern, father? By what right do you lead the narthanc, supreme and unquestioned?"

"Sstrength," he replied, lowering his voice. "Weak grow. Ssstrong work. Ssstrongesst of all rule."

"Then prove that you are stronger than I." Her hand pushed harder against his. "Prove that you are fit to command."

As he stared into her eyes, he saw a flicker of something- anguish, perhaps? Fear? Her eyes were the only break in the mask of serenity that was her face. A flick of the wrist, and he would be supreme once again, but he had been pondering his options since she first threw open his chamber doors, and now he was convinced that there was no victory here, at any cost. His hand hesitated only a second before he ripped the knife away from her throat, dropping it on the floor. High Priest and mate both stared dumbly at the blade as though they expected it to leap into his treacherous daughter's throat by its own will.

The silence in the throne room of Nexus was absolute.

Myrrah seemed almost disappointed as she slowly sank onto the throne, arms sliding onto the massive obsidian armrests. She looked him over, tilting her head as though unsure what to make of him. "You are unfit to command. In your place, I shall rule Nexus and all of the Hollows." She leaned back tentatively until the cold stone of the immense chair supported her fully.

"Will never bow."

"I don't expect you to, father."

"Kantus loyal. Females loyal. Will never obey you." Narthanc straightened his shoulders and puffed out his chest in defiance.

"Kantus loyal." The High Priest murmured his support.

Myrrah waved her hands at both without taking her eyes off the hulking figure directly in front of her. "The kantus are loyal to the next in succession, Sitrik," she sneered. "Your protégé Skorge is already on my side. As for the females, they will learn. For their own sake, I hope they learn quickly."

Narthanc looked over his shoulder at the rising sound of footfalls to see legions of theron marching in. They appeared on every balcony and in every doorway, leaving a wide aisle down the middle of the throne room to the main doorway. The priest and female edged in closer to him, concerned about the mass of high-powered weaponry now neatly arrayed in rows over almost every square inch.

"Sssserve the Queeen!" they hissed in perfect symphony.

Standing again, Myrrah raised her hands in greeting to the masses. The smug smile had crept back onto her face by now as she leered at the three immense figures before her. She was royalty now, with full command over untold legions, and it showed. From the anteroom behind the throne, two figures emerged. Shadows slipped away from the bulkier figure to reveal an especially large theron in black robes with head bare. The smaller figure was a kantus priest, wearing the older skullcap instead of the priestly mitre. Wordlessly, each took their positions at Myrrahs side. The female snarled at the black-clad form in front of her seat. Guttural murmering rose to a chorus of cheers as the all three seated themselves in unison.

"Sssserve the Queeeen! Sssserve the Queeen!"

"My allies, today you witness the beginning of a new era. By the ancient rite, I rise as Overlord of Nexus and Queen of all the Hollows. My word alone is law." Narthanc growled in displeasure at the rising tone and fervor in her voice. "Sitrik, you are excommunicated from the kantus forever. In your place rises Skorge, the new voice of the Worm."

The chorus increased in intensity.

"Brood Matron, you and your ilk shall have no further influence over the breeding females or the throne. In your place rises Ra'am, general of the armies of Nexus and my chief counsel from now to eternity." Sitrik was whispering frantically into the matron's ear as he tried to hold her back by the arm to prevent a bloodbath. Myrrah turned to the disposed king, canine teeth peeking from her feral smile.

"Dearest father, we are no longer the narthanc, your brood, and you have no further authority in these lands. You and your court are forever exiled from the Hollow, never to return under pain of death." Myrrah and the others sat down, as the endless chant reached its highest level. As if by some unseen command, the theron behind the throne began to drive forwards, mag-bows whining as they cranked up to full power. A gleaming wall of darkest crimson armor and gnashing teeth began to push against the dethroned king, forcing him back as he snarled and shoved at them.

"Misstaken! Lead the narthancto death, foolish groundwalker!" The ex king held onto his mate's arm as the three backed down the steps, neverending waves of his former children filling the gap between him and Myrrah. Satisfied, she sat down slowly, digging her nails into the blackened rock. He caught one last glance of his adopted daughter before the mass of armor and flesh forced him down the stairs, but her final words would ring in his head forever.

"The narthanc, your children, your slaves, are no more, father. We have our own name now. From this day forward, we are the Locust."

There's a lot of murmuring going on as to what, exactly, Queen Myrrah IS, and how she is in charge of the Locust. I favour the explanation that she is nearly pure human, and that she is not the creator of them, nor their first leader...