1 – THE FORMATION OF DARK ALLIANCES

A full siege of the galaxy was underway at the hands of the Purple, Red, and Orange Armies, It was a move of reclamation for territory owned by the Big Three: the Armies of Green, Yellow, and Blue. This evolution in the galactic war between all six Armies had been triggered only a day earlier, when Centerpoint City, the capitol of the Green Army, had been invaded by its oldest foe, the Purples. The city had become subject to a terrible siege. Yet in the end, it had managed to survive. But for the Purple Army, it was not entirely a defeat. For the Grand General, the leader of the Green Army, had been captured during the battle. Feeling the wind at their backs, the other Purple fleets, kept hidden until the proper time, had immediately launched an assault upon the galaxy at large. Upon every galactic arm, worlds were quickly falling to their tide.

At the same time, the Orange and Red Armies were also expanding. The Orange Army, however, was not expanding out of lust for conquest. Rather, it needed territory. And badly, for its one and only refuge was its capitol city, Strongeheim, and it was on a planet fraught with war from all sides. And so, the Orange campaign was one of a different sort: it was a campaign of exploration, a desperate search for more resources and territory. The efforts of this endeavor had yielded many planets which were candidates for major bases in the war.

One such world was that of Pastré Múfinn, at the tip of the largest arm of the galaxy. At a time early on in the war, it had been taken by the Blue Army. But the Blues had abandoned it more than two years ago, having expanded too thin during their preliminary explorations of that part of space. In their carelessness, the Blues had left behind numerous natural resources. It was therefore the perfect site for an Orange Base. And so, on a hilltop overlooking a circular valley, a modular assortment of metallic parts began to coalesce into a structure. Vehicles and Orange soldiers were stationed all around. Soon would come mechanations for delving into the planet's crust and extracting the valuable natural resources within.

A lone guard stood off to the side, staring out into the landscape. His job was to keep watch for enemies. Since the planet had been abandoned, the guard had no idea what enemies could possibly exist here. Perhaps a small base of Blues, left over from the original occupation. But surely nothing more than that. But nevertheless, the guard stood vigilant. He would do his duty not matter what…until his shift ended, at least. Although, he had to admit that he was really quite bored. There was nothing to do except stare out into the landscape. He really should have brought a book along, he realized. Then he corrected himself. Because if he was reading, then he would not be able to watch the landscape, which, he then remembered, was his job. He had to be vigilant. A few minutes passed. The shadows on the ground shifted. The guard's perceived world became one of anthropomorphic muffins dancing in a gleeful circle.

He jolted upright with a start. He had to be vigilant! He was not allowed to doze off. He took in a few large breaths, to keep himself awake. Around him, the landscape glowed in the sunlight. He stared at the extensive grassland of the valley below, then looked upwards to the dense forests beyond it. Floating above the forests was the sun. The guard then looked east…to the sun. Now wait a minute, the guard thought to himself. This system is only supposed to have one sun, not two. He looked back at the first sun. It was coming towards him! It could now be seen as a giant white sphere of light, which was traveling towards the guard, but getting smaller as it drifted along. Am I still dreaming, the guard wondered.

The ball of light came to a stop in the air. It was directly above the guard, and a little off to one side. The ball was still getting smaller, and within the next few seconds, it had disappeared completely. And in its place…was a swarm of floating fusion coils. The guard decided that he was still dreaming, so he kicked himself. It hurt, which was odd, considering that he had to be dreaming. The cloud of fusion coils drifted down to ground level. They all seemed to be hovering around one coil in particular, and were forming a kind of shell around it. Once the swarm of fusion coils had touched the grass, they fell into a large pile, with the central coil ending up as the one on top. The other coils then began to shake, and made a sound at the same time. It sounded almost like…sobbing. But that was impossible, the guard thought to himself. Fusion coils can't cry! This was the moment when dozens of other fusion coils floated out of the forest. As a group, they glided up to the pile that had just teleported in.

Then one of the fusion coils from the forest spoke. "Our leader…by the ions…what's happened to him!" The crowd of fusion coils descended upon the pile, surrounding it and then closing in, as if they were somehow in panic.

"He has…fallen…" said one of the coils from the pile, in shock.

Another one of the forest fusion coils suddenly shot up to the top coil, coming to hover around it. "Vincent…NOOO! He's not dead. Someone tell me that he's not dead!"

"Glowey," said another coil. "My dear. Vincent is not dead. But he is gravely wounded. He used up all of his psychic energy in a heroic act of sacrifice, which caused his core to nearly overload. He is in a state of coma."

The coil hovering around the top, the one called Glowey, shouted "No, Vincent. My poor Vincent! You can't leave me. You can't leave me!" Her core was now glowing exceptionally bright. "You promised me that we'd always be together. That we'd rule the universe as a couple."

The central coil (named Vincent, apparently) remained stationary.

"We were going to start a family," Glowey continued. "We were going to have babies, Vincent. Babies! Little tiny coils bouncing up and down with joy. I was going to watch them develop their casings. Watch them levitate their first objects. And then, when we were older, we were going to head to radioactive nebulae, and smell the ions together. We were going to be so happy! But none of that can happen if you're in a coma. You have to wake up, Vincent."

"He can't hear you, I'm afraid," said one of the other fusion coils in the pile.

"We can bring him back," said Glowey with naive hope. "I need batteries."

"This will not work," the doctor coil stated.

"I said bring me batteries!" Glowey shrieked back at him. "AA. No, size C. No, D! Something, bring me anything! I just want him back!"

Another fusion coil gave her a series of batteries. Glowey telekinetically applied them to Vincent's electric nodes and connected them using a wire. She waited with agonizing anticipation as each battery was drained. "Come back to me, Vincent!" she pleaded to the universe. "Come back to me!"

It was perhaps fifteen minutes later when the doctor coil came up to Glowey. "There is nothing you can do. All that can be done now is to wait…and hope. I am sorry, my dear." Glowey began to sob again. And then, the whole community of fusion coils floated up off of the ground, and levitated into the forest, eventually becoming obscured by the trees. The last of them vanished into the green abyss with a glint of reflected sunlight.

The Orange guard just stood in place for perhaps another ten minutes. He did not stand out of vigilance. Instead, he stood because he was trying to figure out exactly what reality he was in anymore. He also had no idea what he was supposed to do in this situation. He mauled things over in his head for awhile. Eventually, he decided that, since he was a guard, it was his job and duty to report back in with what he had just seen…regardless of how peculiar a sight it was.

He trudged back to the base. By now, construction was well underway. The main building was about half complete, with the walls of the first floor having been erected. The guard began to jog, searching for his commanding officer. He eventually tracked him down. The officer was overseeing the construction process from a high rise. "Sir!" the guard called out.

The officer turned. "What is it, solider?"

"I have seen something in the valley!" the guard shouted as he approached the officer. He began to pant as soon as he stopped, catching his breath.

The officer walked quickly over to the guard. "You've seen activity, have you? This planet was supposed to have been abandoned. Perhaps the intel we were given about this place was false. I should have suspected…"

"I don't think they were enemies," said the guard.

The officer crossed his arms. "Hm. Well, what then?" The guard struggled to think of what to say. As the officer watched him, he did everything he could to figure out how to explain. "What did you see?" the officer repeated, showing his impatience in his tone. "Why won't you tell me? Why do you hesitate?"

The guard leaned upwards, getting into the officer's visor. "Because sir…I don't have a flying fuck what I just saw."

A chorus of footsteps echoed throughout the access hallway to the Command Dome of the Avant Garde. Hathrow Vorennius, the leader of the Purple Army, led the group. He was followed by his advisor and bodyguard, Nezilus Thane, as well as a dozen-fold squad of security soldiers. Together, the fourteen of them were jogging down the length of the corridor. They decelerated to a stop as soon as they were outside of the entrance to the dome. Two guards were waiting at the door, standing to either side. Vorennius addressed one of the guards: "Is the command dome under attack?"

The guard shook his helmet. "We don't believe so, Admiral. The life signs show only one person in there. But somehow, the door has locked. We cannot get inside."

Vornnius nodded, then turned to one of the men in the squad behind him. "Blow the door."

The soldiers brought forth charges and placed them at specific points on the door. The command dome was designed so that it could not be bypassed with any measures…unless the bypassers knew to place detonation charges at very specific locations on the door. There was a series of flashes, after which point the two guards standing at either side of the door grabbed hold of it and heaved it to the side. Then everyone burst inside. Vorennius led the charge as the mass of Purples stormed the room.

There was nothing inside.

The group stopped, confused. There were no enemies from other armies waiting for them. Nor were there any traitorous Purples lurking about, waiting to stick the group in the back. Instead, there was absolutely no one. He noticed that most of the lighting in the chamber had been turned off somehow, so that nearly all of the room was cloaked in inky darkness. Vorennius let the silence wash over him. He had to concentrate. Something was amiss, and only perseverance would allow him to discern what it was. Something had definitely changed since he had last been here. So he silenced everyone else, then opened his sensed and listened.

And indeed, he did hear something. There was a sliding sound coming from the other side of the central holographic console. Vorennius led the group forward, his hand on the hilt of his White Blade. As the group approached the source of the sound, they could hear it more clearly. Ahead of them, the command chair was very quickly swiveling around and around and around. And at the same time, they could hear laughter coming from it. Giggling, of a sort. It sounded like the kind of thing an overenthusiastic child might exclaim after having done something mischievous. Yet the voice sounded much older, almost maniacal. And now, he could faintly see someone sitting in the chair. Their armor was very darkly colored, and in the darkness Vorennius had a difficult time making the figure out.

The group raised their weapons. "Get out of my command chair," Vorennius demanded loudly of the figure.

The chair continued to swivel, and the mischievous giggling actually became louder.

"I will ask you one final time," the Admiral barked.

That was when the chair began to slow down. The group kept their weapons trained upon it as it squeaked to a stop. They could now see who was sitting in it. The figure was clothed in jet black armor, so dark that it seemed as though it were consuming all light that touched it. The figure was wearing a red visor which had a very thick V shape, and from the top of the head poked a tall spike or horn. The group of Purples and the black armored figure stared at each other for perhaps fifteen seconds. Then the figure extended his arms outwards. "Oh, I'm sorry. Is this yours?" His tone lacked any sincerity whatsoever.

"Get out!" said Vorennius. "How did you even find your way in here?"

"You know, I really would get up," said the figure in black. "But this chair…well, what can I say? It's really quite comfortable."

"Take him," the Admiral ordered to the rest of the group. But instead of rushing forward, the soldiers behind him remained still, and began to make startled grunting noises. Vorennius turned around. "What are you doing? I said, seize the infiltrator!"

"We…can't…" came the reply of one of the security soldiers. "Our armor won't move, sir! We're paralyzed!"

The Admiral approached the soldier who had spoken. "What do you mean?" He reached out and touched the soldier's arm. Just as the soldier had said, his armor was all locked up. The group was effectively locked inside hollow statues. "What in the universe is going on?" Vorennius asked rhetorically under his breath. He then turned to face the black armored soldier. "Are you doing this?" he demanded.

The infiltrator was swiveling slowly and whimsically around in the command chair again. At the Admiral's question, he slowed down a little bit and said: "I'm afraid they aren't under your control anymore, Admiral. I always love acquiring new playthings." He let out a little cackle of delight.

"Playthings?" Vorennius asked.

He heard movement from behind him. He swiveled around and started at what he saw. The other Purple soldiers had climbed on top of one another, and those on the very top were leaning at an angle, so that the group created a dome like structure out of themselves. The hemisphere of people extended up to perhaps half the height of the command dome. One of the soldiers shouted out in panic: "Our armor is moving on its own! We're not doing this, something else is!"

More giggling came from behind the Admiral. "What shall I have them do next, I wonder?" said the black armored figure. "A tableau, perhaps? Or maybe act out some kind of skit…"

"Who are you!" Vorennius shouted at him. "How are you doing this?"

The figure turned a little bit more in the command chair, coming to regard the Admiral with half attention. "Do you know who I am, Admiral? Because I know who you are. Hmhmhm, oh yes, Vorennius. I know everything about you…"

"Who…what…are you…" said the Admiral.

"I don't suppose you've read any children's books lately, have you?" said the figure. He began to swivel around again. "I would have preferred that my equivalent to a biography were stored in something a bit more impressive, but this universe seems to enjoy playing jokes. So do I, as a matter of fact." He giggled for a moment. Not knowing what else to do, the Admiral just stood and waited for the figure to actually get around to answering his question. The response came on its own time. "Perchance, Admiral, have you ever heard of something called the Great War? Ring any bells?"

The Admiral shook his helmet. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"No, of course you don't," said the figure. "Stupid universe! Ah, I suppose that I might as well clue you in a bit more, then. Know anything about a supposed ancient war that consumed the entire galaxy? Still can't place me? Gigantic conflict that restarted all of civilization? Hmmm, Admiral? Rumor has it that you people believe in the Old World. I had thought that you would be more accomplished at a quiz like this."

The Admiral perked up at mention of the Old World. "It can't be…" he thought aloud. "Are you…Aeon the Maintainer?"

The figure paused his swiveling for a second, then expelled a giant boisterous laugh. "Um, I think you just described my retarded half brother. Try again!"

"Vitian the Lifeweaver?"

The figure let out another bout of giggling. "Hotter. Keep trying, you're almost there."

"Amnion!"

The figure began to clap. "Ta da! You guessed it! I am…Amnion the Great and Powerful! Or at least, that's what I would be called if this stupid universe hadn't gone and forgotten me."

"Amnion the Lord of Insanity, if I recall," said Vorennius.

"Both titles work," said Amnion. "Whatever floats your boat."

Vorennius walked around the central holographic console, so that he could more closely see the entity claiming to the Lord of Insanity. "If you truly are Amnion…then why are you here?"

"Oh, getting right to the good stuff, are we?" Amnion chuckled. "Fine then. I've come to strike an alliance between the Red Army, which I now control, and your Army, Admiral."

Vorennius shook his visor. "That alliance shattered just before I launched the attack on Centerpoint City."

"You'd like to believe that, wouldn't you?" said Amnion. "Not quite that simple, I'm afraid. You see, when you first met my former pawn Vincent the Fusion Coil, you struck a deal with the Red Army. And we don't value our deals quite as lightly as you seem to do yours. Our alliance will remain."

Vorennius shook his helmet. "I have no interest in making alliances at this time in my own plans. And certainly not with an entity like you."

The Admiral suddenly felt his armor tighten. He struggled in surprise, only to find that he could no longer move. Then his knees began to bend, and before he knew what was going on, he was kneeling on the floor in front of Amnion. The black clad soldier made a tsk-tsk sound. "Now Admiral, who ever said anything about you being given a choice? Just look around you, Vorennius—oh that's right, you can't. Ahahaha! Your soldiers cannot move of their own free will, as I am sure you have come to realize. And now, neither can you. You see Admiral, I already have control of your Army. I can make it do whatever I want, whenever I want. I can make your ships jump into the center of a sun, make every single one of the soldiers in your Army perform an elaborate opera, and even force them to fight battles for me. The only real point of this conversation, in fact, is that I'm just letting you know that I have control of your Army. Because I'm such a decent person."

Though he knew it was futile, Vorennius continued to struggle. "I will never serve you."

"Bow before me," said Amnion. Vorennius' back moved downwards, his visor coming to look at the floor. "Very good," said the black clad soldier. "You're such an obedient little Purple."

Vorennius suddenly stood up (not of his own volition), and his legs walked towards Amnion, so that he was soon standing right in front of the command chair. "Please stop this," Vorennius whispered.

"Oh, what's that?" said Amnion, perking up. "Is the big bad Admiral…pleading? Ahahaha! Oh, please Mr. Amnion, release me from this horrible imprisonment!" Amnion leaned back again. "Tell you what. I'll let you all be for now, but on one condition. When you get to your asteroid community and stand before your most proud followers, I want you to announce that the Red and Purple Armies are returning to their alliance. It might have been just a truce before, actually. Ah well, it makes no matter. Because the next time you broadcast a speech, you're going to say that Reds and Purples are going to be the best of friends from now on. Hunkey-dorey hugs and kisses, and all that good stuff. Admiral…do you understand?"

Vorennius said nothing.

"Nod your little head," said Amnion. Vorennius' helmet moved up and down by itself. "Very good," the black clad soldier exclaimed boisterously.

"Now release me," said Vorennius through his teeth.

"You know, Admiral," said Amnion. "I think that in the future we should have more chats like this. It's good just to talk about things. Catch up on the latest plots. And I'm feeling very good about our little relationship, because there are just SO many things that I plan to do to this universe, now that I have been restored to my full power. True, the galaxy has been plagued with war for quite a while now. But that's not enough. I want to engineer a new era…of pure darkness and chaos. And you, little Admiral, will be one of my instruments for doing so." Amnion got up from the command chair and began to stroll about the command dome. "Well, I said that I would leave all of you alone for now, and I'm a being of my word…often…so I'll do just that." He spread his arms open wide while facing the group of paralyzed Purples. "Ta ta!" His body then dissolved into an abyss of shadow.

There was a sound like rushing air, and then the lighting returned to the command deck as Amnion, in his Shadow Form, departed the Avant Garde. Vorennius instantly felt a release on his armor, and he fell to the steel floor grating. He, as well as the other Purples in the room, could finally move again. He hoisted himself up slowly. Can that really have just happened, he thought silently to himself. And if it did…then what am I supposed to do now?