Master of the Ring

Chapter Nine: Once more unto the breach

The Enterprise-Beta was less than half-way to the scheduled rendezvous when the message from Commodore Lore came through. Captain Sorek was to change course to the closest StarBase and await orders. Shepard and his team were to take the Raven and rendezvous with the Enterprise Alpha in the Hyades Cluster 'with all possible haste'.

The rendezvous point turned out to be the only habitable planet in a small system. "Old Human colony." Ashley told them. "Federation-affiliated but not a member – legally autonomous. The inhabitants call it 'Numenor'. I'm getting energy readings from the surface; looks like agrarian rather then industrial output. Several large population centres on one continent and a small spaceport.

"There are also ships in orbit. The Enterprise is there, and I'm heading toward her. There's another ship. The configuration matches a Mjolnir-Class Super-Dreadnought, but the Mjolnir hasn't been launched yet. Checking registry. Oh! It's a Ranger ship! Didn't think they had anything that big!"

"Normally, they don't." Shepard told her. "Most of their ships are one-man scouts, though they have a few frigates."

"Well, this one is called the Vingilot, and it's listed as under the command of Admiral Riker." Ashley told him. "There's also a Klingon battleship called Fist of Kahless, which is the flagship of Admiral Koth of the Klingon Imperial Fleet.

"As well as those, I'm seeing a heavy, very heavy, cruiser of unknown origin. There's a name or something written on the side, but other than that it's in something called Daerons' Runes, the translator can't make anything of it!

"Finally, there's something in far orbit that's about the size of a small moon. Best as I can make out, it's some kind of vegetable life-form enclosed in a force-field I can barely see through!

"Docking now!"

Shepard was immediately summoned to the Conference Room. There he found Admiral Picard, Commodore Lore, Captain Worf and four strangers.

"Ah, Colonel!" Picard said. "Thank you for arriving so promptly! Let me introduce you to our guests.

"Commander Sarek Potter, acting XO of the Vingilot." Half-Vulcan by the look of him, in Ranger greys. Tall, rangy, with untidy black hair and steady cat-green eyes. He simply nodded.

"Havoth, son of Ratogh, brother of Admiral Koth, Klingon Battle-mage of the Premier Circle."

Big, powerfully-built, like most Klingons. But unlike most Klingons, his body language was still, almost serene. He wore leather, except for a massive metal gauntlet on his right hand. His eyes were also calm, and he spoke without the note of challenge or aggression common to even the most courteous Klingon. "Well-met, Colonel Shepard. Major V'Shak speaks highly of you."

"Commander Thorgrim son of Grimbold, First Officer of the Dwarf cruiser Ironfoots' Axe."

Short, stocky, luxuriantly bearded with a sloping forehead and large, dark eyes. He rose from his seat and bowed. "At your service." He said.

"And finally," Picard went on, "Masterseer Elrond of the Aeldari Craftworld Lothlorien!"

Taller than anyone there, dark-haired, grey-eyed, with a long pale face that was neither old nor young, dressed in a soft grey very different from the Ranger grey. He looked at Shepard steadily for a long moment, and the Colonel realised that he was being scanned by a powerful Psyker -powerful enough to be gentle about it. Elrond bowed his head.

"You too bear our blood. Mae govannen, Colonel."

"So," Shepard said, "what gives? Why are we all here?"

"Well, in the case of Lore, Worf and myself, we are keeping a promise made to an old friend, Admiral Riker." Picard told him. "For yourself, I was told that you should be here because you know that 'all that is gold does not glitter'. A phrase I understand you should know the meaning of, Colonel?"

"Yeah, I do." Shepard allowed. "But if what's happening is what I think is happening, I didn't believe it would come in my lifetime!" He turned to Sarek. "Is it?"

Sarek nodded. "Yes, Colonel. The King has returned."

"Which is why we are here." Elrond stated. "Not only am I blood-kin to the King, but the Men of Numenor, the Atanatari, have been our allies since before your written history began."

"As they were to our folk, the Khazad." Commander Thorgrim added. "Of all the Children of Men, those of Numenor were ever more friendly to the Dwarfs than the others, and more trusty."

"Well, that makes sense, though I didn't know the Dwarfs had survived." Shepard said. "But why are the Klingons here?"

"Because," Havoth said, "we have this in common, that Klingon wizards, like the wizards of other races, are what we are because we carry Aeldari genes. Thus we are, in some sense, kin to Human wizards. Also, there are those of Klingon descent who have mated with Humans of Numenorian ancestry, and some of their offspring have felt the Call to come here."

"Which is all very well," Picard said, "but leaves the main question unanswered. Who is this King of Men, and why does he think that Humanity will accept his rule?"

"He will not rule." Elrond said. "Except for this planet, inhabited by his own people. For the rest of Humanity, he will simply be a symbol. Through him, Men will learn of their true history. Of deeds done by their ancestors long before your own histories were written. They will learn of the valour and might of their ancestors, as well as their follies and mistakes. Most importantly, they will learn of their part in the Great Music, their freedom to shape their own destiny, and the importance of their actions in Ea, the Universe at large. His messengers, the Rangers, will go out into the Galaxy to aid those who need it, to protect the weak, feed the hungry and teach the ignorant. His only request will be that Men consider the consequences of their actions before taking them. Men are too often hasty in their actions, and are much given to disregarding their history and acting in the present only. They need to be reminded of where they come from to know where they should go. This is the role of the King, so that the mistakes of the past be not repeated in the future."

"As to who he is," Sarek said, "you've met some of his descendants, Admiral. I believe you've even spoken with his wizard portrait! His birth name was Harry Potter, and he was a great hero among wizards in the 20th and 21st Centuries. He defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort, solved the mystery of what had become of the Dwarfs, forged new links with the muggle world, defeated the Scholomance and the Black Council, and many other things. We knew him as the Master of Death, which he indeed proved to be. He disappeared towards the end of World War Three, and we thought he was dead. But it seems he had knowledge of the TimeMages and had gained the power of regeneration.

"For centuries, under the name of The Seeker, he has acted from the shadows in the service of all people of good will. He was instrumental in the defeat of the Daleks, and has gathered the Infinity Stones and placed them where they cannot be taken and misused. More importantly, he's a direct descendant of King Elessar, Heir of Isildur, of the Line of Luthien."

Picard suddenly laughed. "Well, something finally makes sense!" He said. "A long time ago now, when I was a student, I spent my vacations on archaeological digs on various worlds, usually under a Dr River Song. The last time I saw her, she said to me that one day I would be asked to help a descendant of Luthien, and that it was important I do so. I asked her how she knew, and she said…

"No spoilers!" Havoth finished for him. "I know this River Song, Admiral. She is far more than a mere archaeologist. If she took an interest in you, she had good reason!"

Just then, the internal communications signalled. "Admiral, the Master of Death just dropped out of Time-Distort!"

"Ah!" Picard said. "So we are all here! Captain Worf, Commodore Lore, Colonel Shepard and Mage Havoth, we are to beam down to Numenor. Commanders Sarek and Thorgrim, and Master Elrond, you will be returning to your ships, of course."

XXXXX

The Away Team arrived in some kind of ante-room, well-proportioned and airy, with large doors at either end. Each door was flanked by a pair of tall guards in black and silver wearing the badge of the White Tree. Seconds after they arrived, there was a boom of Apparation, and a tall, dark-haired woman in the red and gold of Gryffindor appeared. She glanced around, and immediately went over to Picard.

"Admiral Picard." She said. "I am honoured to meet you, sir! Captain Isadora Addams, of the Master of Death."

Picard had barely completed introductions when the doors at one end swung open to admit a tall, dark man in the regalia of a Scots chieftain. As he strode up to them, Picard looked him up and down, then said.

"That, unless I'm very much mistaken, is a MacLeod tartan. Do I have the honour of addressing Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod?"

"You do." Duncan replied. "So I would be correct in my assumption that you are a descendant of the Chevalier Armand Picard, of the Kings' Musketeers?"

"You would be!" Picard averred.

Duncan grinned. "Armand was a scholar and a soldier, and a man of parts in both fields. It seems his blood runs true!

"I'm here to bring you to the King. Please be aware that, except on state occasions, he's not a fan of formality and he hates bowing and scraping. This is a Council of War, and time is an issue. He'll want to get straight down to business!

"Follow me!"

The conference room was even larger, well-lit by tall windows, interspersed with paintings and tapestries which, Picard guessed, depicted episodes in the long history of the Line of Luthien. The great table was of polished oak, with leather blotters placed before each carved chair. The tall man seated to the head of this table rose to greet them. He wore a simple black shirt and trousers, had a head of shaggy black hair, a pale stern face and piercing grey eyes. There was a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.

"Good to see you all." He said. "This is my better half, Rose. Lord William Riker, Chieftain of the Rangers; Lord Alexander Rozhenko, Steward of Numenor; Farseer Glaldriel of Craftworld Lothlorien; Durin, King of the Dwarfs; Lord White of Gallifrey; Commander Julian Bashir Atreides, of Section 31; Logan, Commander of the Citadel Guard and Wade Wilson, Psycho Without Portfolio! I'm officially King Godric, but please call me Harry!

"There's coffee and sandwiches on the sideboard. Help yourselves, then let's get down to cases!"

When everyone was seated, Harry gestured to Galadriel, who began.

"I will assume you are all sufficiently familiar with the Red Book of Westmarch to understand the significance of what I am about to relate. I was one of the Aeldari Exodites chosen by Celebrimbor to bear one of the Great Rings – Nenya, the Ring of Adamant. When we eventually left Arda -Earth – to build our own Craftworld, I was named Farseer. But though we were now accepted back among the Asuryani, we were loath to forget our links to Arda, and the friends and blood-kin we had left there. In my case, I kept memories fresh by continuing to wear Nenya.

"The ring had no power, since it could only be active if either Celebrimbors' or Saurons' Master-Rings were active. But Celebrimbors' Ring was destroyed by Sauron and Saurons' Ring was cast into the Cracks of Doom, both long ages ago, even by the measure of the Aeldari. So I leave you to imagine how disturbed I was when, some ten years ago, Nenyas' power suddenly awoke! I was also aware that both the others had awoken. Thus it was that for the first time in long ages, the Bearers of the Three met in council. It was evident that another Master-Ring was active, but its wearer was either ignorant of us, or was for some reason withholding their dominance from us.

"As a Farseer, I was able to probe for a new Ringlord, and did indeed find him, after a fashion. But it seemed he had foreknowledge of my powers, and had set about himself a veil of darkness I could not penetrate. So Master Elrond and I turned again, with no great willingness, to the Lord Mithrandir, bearer of Narya, the Ring of Fire, who you call Lord White, but I first knew as Olorin."

Lord White nodded, then took over. "As a TimeMage, I had methods at my disposal that the Aeldari do not. I was able to ascertain that a new Ring of Power had indeed been forged, and that its' bearer is the renegade TimeLord known as The Master!"

"Hey! I killed that guy!" Logan protested. "Just before that android, Data, snapped his fingers!"

"Data?" This was Lore. "Data was the name of my younger brother! He's been dead for years! He and my older brother, B4, died defending our home against the Crystal Entity. I couldn't save them, and Father couldn't repair them!"

"That is most certainly true!" Picard said. "Dr Soong told me about it himself!"

"It is true." Harry said firmly. "But once, it wasn't!

"Look, it's a long story, but Data came into possession of an artefact called the Infinity Gauntlet. It gives the wearer almost total control over Time, Space and Reality, if they have the willpower to control it and the physical resilience to actually use it. At the time Data acquired the Gauntlet, this entire reality, this Universe, was on the edge of chaos. In order to save the Universe, Data had to, how to put it, 'overwrite' parts of it. Some things had to be removed, and other things added to fill the spaces they'd occupied. One of the things that needed to be removed was the Infinity Gauntlet, along with the Stones that powered it, and the person using it…."

"So Data removed himself from the Universe and put me in his place?" Lore asked. Harry nodded, and Lore shook his head. "Oh, that is so like Data!" He said. "Logic first and foremost! B4 had emotions, but his brain was a prototype, he wasn't very smart. Datas' computational and analytical programming was superior to mine, but he had no basic emotions. In his place, B4 wouldn't have known what to do, and I'd've saved all of us, and Devil take the consequences! Only my little brother could have been so ruthless and so compassionate at the same time!"

Harry shrugged. "I never met him, but I knew his reputation and record. It has a lot in common with yours, Lore, but they're not identical. As a TimeMage, of sorts, I have two sets of memories. So does Logan, because he was there at the time, and he was the only one who saw what happened."

"I think Data did that deliberately." Logan stated. "So somebody who wasn't a TimeLord or TimeMage would know what happened. So, White, this Master guy, he regenerated?"

"He did." White allowed. "Though, possibly by intention of Data, not in the cyber-body he'd been using. The Master had, for a while, possessed or been possessed by, the Cyberium, the core programme of the Cyber-race. When the Third Destruction of Gallifrey occurred, the Cyberium deserted The Master and found its way into a TransWarp corridor, eventually reaching the Delta Quadrant and finding the crumbling remains of the Borg Collective. These two AIs merged in order to survive and in some fashion The Master located them, gaining enough ascendancy to send them back in time to Earth to recover an artefact called the Shining Trapezohedron. This item was made from the melted slag of Saurons' Ring, and by examining it, The Master was able to reverse engineer a Ring, indeed Rings, of his own."

"Does that explain the CyBorg?" Shepard wanted to know. "This Cyberium merging with the Collective?"

"Empowered by Rings of Power, yes." White said. "If The Master has given a subordinate Ring to whatever creature is at the heart of the CyBorg, it would give them the power to do such a thing."

"The former Borg Queen." Bashir said. "I suppose it's my turn now. Some five years ago, a woman named Helen Mohiam arrived in Federation space. Her full name is Gaius Helen Mohiam, and she is a Reverend Mother of the Bene Gesserit Sisterhood. She had come to take over the operation of the Bene Gesserit Missionaria Protectiva."

"One moment, Julian!" Picard said. "It's my understanding that the Bene Gesserit were confined with the other Butlerian Jihadists to the Enclave!"

"That was what was supposed to happen." Julian admitted. "But apparently the Sisterhood left its outriders behind. As far as they are concerned, the Jihad is far from over! Not only that, but when the Jihad failed and they were exiled, they lost several bloodlines that may be key to their goal of producing a Kwisatz Haderach.

"In any event, Section 31 had always known about the Sisterhood – several of them worked for us – so we were able to track Mohiams' movements. It helped that she was wearing a ring that gave off a very specific energy signature. Over the next five years, we tracked her and in doing so finally became aware of the full extent of the Missionaria Protectivas' operations.

"But the major prize came a few days ago, when Mohiam finally managed to obtain a face-to-face meeting with Jack Harper, the Illusive Man, leader of HYDRA. Now HYDRA has been a thorn in the side of democratic governments since Hitler's War in the early 20th Century. They always managed to elude us before, but Mohiam, using her Ring, was able to get to the Illusive Man and obtain everything about HYDRAs' structure, operations and funding. So we moved in, helped by the Rangers. The Illusive Man was killed, Mohiam was arrested and we got the information.

"So both HYDRA and the Bene Gesserit organisations are being rolled up as we speak. Mohiam was scanned by a Psyker and her Ring was seized. We learned about the other Ring-bearers, their dossiers have now been transferred to your PADDs, and we sent the Ring to the wizards

"Captain Addams?"

"We recognised the Ring for what it was." Addams said. "We immediately contacted the Aeldari, and they confirmed it."

"It was a Ring of Power." Galadriel confirmed. "One such as Celebrimbor and Sauron made to ensnare Mortal Men, creating the Nazgul. But this one was subtler in its' working, giving only such power as its Bearer was willing to use, relying on them to experiment and expand on what could be done. The purpose seems to be to build both dependence and The Masters' dominance more slowly, but more reliably. We destroyed it. What of the others?"

"The Romulan, Cicaro, is dead." Admiral Koth rumbled. "He fell into a trap engineered by his own second in command, and it seems that the price of failure was his life. His Ring was destroyed in the process.

"The Klingon, Korak, is known to us. Most of those who would support him in a coup are under surveillance and can be dealt with at any time. We Klingons are prone to speak our minds, so secret conspiracies are seldom as secret as they should be! Besides, we have gained much in knowledge and technology from the Alliance, as well as great honour and glory. Few of our people wish to see that end."

Julian nodded. "Good. The Ferengi, Yerbo, is not directly dangerous. Anyway, I've been in touch with Feringinar, and it seems he will have other matters to deal with soon. Durat, the Cardassian, is dangerous as an individual; an assassin and infiltrator of considerable skills, skills which he freely uses his Ring to augment. Our Orion, Velek, was once respected as a fighter, but it's been a long time since he was on the front lines; our agents in the Syndicate are already preparing to have him replaced as Head.

"That just leaves these two, The Rani and The Valeyard. I've no information on either of them."

"The Rani," White said, "is a renegade TimeLord. She is an expert on genetics and species manipulation, with a certain disregard for the effects of her experiments, not only on her subjects themselves, but on the life-forms and environments around them. I would characterise her as amoral, rather than outright evil. I suspect she is there to provide genetic enhancements to complement the CyBorgs' bionic ones.

"The Valeyard was once thought to be an incarnation of The Doctor that embodied all the evil that The Doctor had denied throughout their lives. He was later found to be a construct, a Counter-Doctor, created by The Master. He is effectively a negative version of The Doctor, intended to anticipate and foil any move made by The Masters' most feared enemy. The Doctor recognised this immediately, which is why none of them are here."

"Thanks." Harry said. "So, the tactical situation. Wade?"

"A shitshow!" Deadpool announced. "Basically, these Cyborg have been expanding outward for a decade. They pretty much do what the Borg used to do, which is assimilate local populations. Most of their drones are just ordinary people injected with nanoprobes and used as workers. The probes make 'em stronger and mean they don't have to eat, but they do need to recharge for about four hours in every 24.

"The combat drones, the Black Cybermen, are different. Heavy bionic modification. But the CyBorg will only 'upgrade' those they think are worthy. The same goes for the Controllers, as they call them, the brains. That's good for us because there are relatively few of both.

"Currently, the CyBorg are salvaging, scavenging and strip-mining the worlds they take over. Building up an infrastructure, we think. According to Shepards' report, they're also building Cyber-King invasion and conversion units.

"Now, the intel we've received means we can get a picture of how they're west up. The bulk of their combat forces are on the borders, tasked with preventing detection and infiltration. But bang in the middle is their base. A small Class M world with a crashed Borg cube they're using as an HQ. They have troops there as well, but not too many.

"The plan is this. Elf-lady over there says her ship can get all of ours into the Webway. That's like the TransWarp corridors, only not. Once we're in there, we can't be seen. Then we hit the HQ planet, hard. Our squadron should be enough to hold off the CyBorg craft in the area, while we send ground troops in to take down the HQ. The ground forces will be mainly Numenoreans, with some Rangers, Aeldari, Klingons and wizards. There'll be three groups, I'll command one, Logan another and Harry the third. Admiral Picard, we'd like you to be the Combat Controller for the ships. Commodore Lore, you'll be in charge of cyber-warfare and ECM. Farseer Galadriel will lead the Psykers, but will have support from Psi Branch. Colonel Shepard, we need you and your squad for a special job, Wolvie'll brief you in a bit. Everybody happy? 'Cause I fucking ain't!"

Did you have to make me say all that?

It reminds people that despite all the dicking about, you do know what you're doing.

Oh. Right. I keep forgetting that.

"OK!" Harry said. "Time, everyone, is of the essence. The Master is losing Ring-bearers, and he must know by now that a Federation ship his scouting his borders. He's going to have to start speeding things up, and he's going to have to come looking for us -even if he doesn't yet know who we are!

"So we have a small window. We need to be off first thing tomorrow, so you'll all need to talk to your people and make your plans." He shook his head and gave an odd little smile. "Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more!" He quoted. "I'll be here if anyone needs me. Let's get started!"

XXXXX

It had taken Shepard a while to dredge up the memory, but he had seen this Logan before. It had been during the one leave he'd spent on Risa. He'd seen the man, sitting on his own, reading and smoking a cigar – something vary rarely seen these days. He'd asked one of the hostesses, and had been told: "Him? He comes here every few years. He keeps himself to himself, just sits and reads and smokes and drinks unless anyone disturbs him. Then he gets really grouchy! Tough, too, I've seen him take down three Narcissans! Some people call him Old Man Trouble. If I were you, I wouldn't mind him!"

However, at the moment he was all business. Logan began by introducing the stocky man in yellow and black who'd joined them.

"This is Aurelius MacMillan, he'll be goin' with you. He's a wizard." Logan had said. "Now, Shepard, I've seen your file. Specialist in infiltration, sabotage, kickin' ass and blowin' things up. That about right?"

"Pretty much covers it." Shepard allowed.

"OK." Logan nodded. "It goes like this, the CyBorg, like the Borg before, work off of a command matrix. They got these machines, vinculums, they call 'em, that they're all networked to, and the vinculums are networked back to a central Core.

"Now we think we know where in the HQ this Core is, and while we're all attackin', we need your team to sneak in and destroy it."

"Will that stop the CyBorg in their tracks?" Shepard asked.

"It might." Logan said. "The old Borg, it would have. They'd have gone into survival mode or hibernation until they got reconnected. Now, the only things we know for sure is that the standard drones will just stop where they are, and none of the others will be able to communicate beyond line of sight.

"Best we can figure out is that the Controllers will just wait for new orders, and most of the infrastructure tech will just shut down.

"But these Black Cybermen seem to have more independence than the old drones, and we don't know what they'll do. We reckon it depends on the tactical situation. Some might carry on fightin', some could cut an' run, others could dig in. If some of 'em have the old CyberLeader protocols, they'll form squads or groups round 'em, otherwise, anythin' could happen.

"But without a central direction, they're gonna be a lot easier to beat, right? Cut 'em off from the Queen and the Cyberium, they got no strategic control and only basic comms."

"OK." Shepard said. "So how do we get into the HQ? There's gonna be some pretty heavy security?"

"My job." MacMillan said. "I'm a Cursebreaker. We specialise in getting into places most wizards and muggles can't. I've got a talent for creating Portkeys to places I've never been. I also have a knack for blowing things up."

"Oh, you'll fit right in!" Shepard said.

XXXXX

It had been a long day, but Logan had one more job to do. In his private quarters was a small room containing only three things: a comfortable armchair; a small table beside it where one might place a glass and an ashtray; a portrait on the wall. Logan sat in the chair, placed his glass of Jack Daniels on the table, and considered the portrait while lighting a cigar.

The portrait was of a man in his forties or fifties – it was hard to tell. He was tall and powerfully-built, had flame-red hair, piercing blue eyes, a long nose and an amiable grin.

"All set for tomorrow, Logan?" He asked.

"Best we can be, Ron." Logan allowed. "We both know that things don't always work out like you plan 'em."

"Yeah, but that's half the fun!" Ron replied. "How's it feel to be Captain of the Guard?"

"At least the uniform ain't too fancy!" Logan allowed. "These Numenorean types ain't a showy bunch! But what the heck do I do in this job?"

"Just what you've been doing all these years, Logan." Ron said. "Same as I did most of my life. Watch Harrys' back, and clean up his mess. Let him be the hero."

"Guess so." Logan nodded. "That's what guys like us do, ain't it? Do the shitty stuff so the heroes don't have to!"

Ron shook his head. "Harry's a good bloke, Logan. One of the best. We both know what he's achieved up to now, and what he can do in the future. He's Hell on wheels in a fight, but he draws the line at murder and he's always willing to give someone another chance. It's what makes him great, but it's also his weakness. That's why he'll always need heartless bastards like you, me and Wade to have his back.

"Thanks for looking after him for me, Logan!"

"Hey, anythin' for another old Avenger, pal! Talk soon!" Logan got up and left, thinking that of all the people he'd known in his long life, Ron Weasley was about the least heartless, despite his frequent ruthlessness.

As he settled onto his futon, another voice from the past sounded in his head.

So, Logan, have you finally found a cause you can believe in?

"Charles? Been a while."

Not from my perspective. Time means very little here. But you didn't answer my question?

"'Cause you already know the answer, don't you? You just wanna hear me say it. But the answer's same as it's always been, Charles. I don't do causes, a cause is just some other guys' agenda. I'm standin' by a friend, like always. Harry's family now, as well. But he's like you, or Scott, or Ororo. He'll always do the right thing, even if it's the dumb thing!"

So you'll be there to do the wrong, but smart, thing, as always, eh? You don't change, Logan. In a Universe of flux, your constancy is comforting, in an annoying sort of way!

Logan chuckled. "Then we're two of a kind, Charles, ain't we? You gonna stick around?"

Oh, I'll always be here, Logan, even if you don't hear me! Good luck for tomorrow.

XXXXX

Harry considered the massive figure beside him on the balcony. Apocalypse had chosen to wear elaborate armour in the style of the Celestials, which seemed to suit his harsh-angled grey face, with its odd blue markings, better than Human garb could have.

"Are you sure you won't come with us tomorrow?" He asked. "There's always room for another pair of hands!"

"I think not, Harry." Apocalypse replied. "Apart from the fact that Wolverine will never quite trust me, you don't need to show every card in your hand! It's better that I remain out of sight and hopefully out of mind to all but yourself.

"My future self told me much more than he was able to tell you. There are certain things which must happen and others that must not. Some of those you will recognise and deal with yourself. But there are others which will require my particular talents and approach.

"Rest assured, Harry, I will always be on your side, but it is for the best that you don't know everything I get up to!"

"I know that one!" Harry allowed. Then he sighed. "Does your future self know that whatever happens tomorrow or in the future won't change a thing for him?"

"He – I – am aware." Apocalypse told him. "It does not matter. His pain will be over shortly, then he will have the chance to make amends as best he can. But he wishes to at least try to spawn a version of this Universe where the millennia-long war he was forced to preside over will not occur.

"One last warning, Harry. The Aeldari are well-intentioned, but narrow-minded. They will attempt to manipulate you into acting for the best as they see it. They dislike change and will resist it for themselves, or try to prevent it in others…"

"For the greater good?" Harry finished. "I know that one, En-Sabah-Nur! My first mentor talked about the 'greater good' a lot, and he turned out to be a HYDRA agent!

"Besides, I'll have Logan at my elbow, and he doesn't trust anyone!"

"That I have learned, to my cost!" Apocalypse chuckled. "The old bastard doesn't change, does he? Except to get worse!"

XXXXX

The God-Emperor of Mankind was more aware of things than those who served him knew or believed. Of course, the Adeptus Terra assured the people of the Imperium that the Emperor knew all and saw everything, but they themselves assumed that the living corpse in the Golden Throne used up every ounce of his willpower and concentration in keeping the Ruinous Powers from invading the Warp. Untrue, that took only a fraction of his abilities.

But the Throne, and the energies of the thousand Psykers who died each day keeping it functioning, imprisoned the Emperor, tying his will and immaterial form to his decayed physical body. Thus, all he was able to do was watch, and wait, while Humanity and the other races consumed themselves in an endless war, waged to suit the obscure purposes of the Other Gods.

But now a new element, or elements, entered the equation. It had taken time, and a lot of effort, to re-establish the link he had unwittingly broken millennia ago, but he had finally succeeded. They could come back, and they had come for him. A tall, blonde woman in blue and a compact man in grey. They walked untroubled and unheeded through the guards that surrounded the Throne. Of all the Emperors' servants, only the Grey Knights might have been able to stop them, but he had sent them all back to Titan, to prepare for the decades of horror that would soon come upon the Galaxy.

The woman's eyes glowed a deeper blue as she reached out to him.

First you cut us off, now you summon us. Why?

I never intended to cut you off. He replied. The passage by which you enter this Realm was too close to one of the Portals to Hell. Once I realised what had occurred, I was in no position to re-open it easily.

But you did. She noted. At some cost.

Too much cost! The mans' 'voice' was harsh, uncompromising. The voice of an Inquisitor. You yourself have become the greatest pressure-point. The longer you exist like this, the worse the disruption will become!

Then do what you must, and quickly! The Emperor said. Before any hope of stability is lost!

The man placed his hands on the Golden Throne. At once, the temperature began to drop. Frost spread over the ancient device as the air condensed on it. A giant of a man with dark skin and clothing appeared and placed his hands on the smaller mans' shoulders.

"Be quick, Steel!" Sapphire said. "I can only hold Time off for so long!"

But it was already almost over. Aged metal, cooled to almost Absolute Zero in seconds, contracted, became brittle, and shattered like glass. The Thousand suddenly came back to themselves as their link to the Throne was cut off. Steel stepped aside and Lead came forward, striking a single blow with a massive fist. The Golden Throne shattered. The three vanished. The others within the throne room stared aghast. One moment, all had been as it always had been. Now the Golden Throne was in fragments and the skeleton of the Emperor crumbled to dust as they watched. Thousands of vessels of the Imperium were ejected from the Warp as their navigators were cut off from their beacon. Few would ever reach a habitable world. Chaos Cultists, Chaos Marines and Daemons trapped outside the Warp and cut off from their Dark Gods either fled into hiding or attacked with Berserk fury.

En-Sabah-Nur, Apocalypse, The First Mutant, God-Emperor of Mankind, Kwisatz Haderach, freed at last from his decayed body, flowed into the Warp and hurled himself at his enemies. Khorne, who is Yog-Sothoth; Nurgle, avatar of Tsathoggua; Slaanesh, image of Shub-Niggurath and Tzeentch, vehicle of Nyarlathotep, felt his coming, and with it, the unfamiliar sensation of fear.

Somewhere on Holy Terra, a child was born. A boy of great strength and beauty, with eyes as old as Time.