Chapter 64: Gathering of the Infinite Void
"We'll have to take over the ships."
By the time Alice finished breaking through the hull, she was already realizing the scope of that plan. As they replaced the blocks they'd broken through, sealing themselves into whatever lightless chamber they had infiltrated, she acknowledged the odds couldn't be stacked against them much more. It had been hard enough for them to beat two Endermen, and there were far more than that aboard the ship. Even if they could overthrow the crew, keeping the vessel flying was its own challenge, and they'd also have to rescue everyone who was taken prisoner on the other ships. And as soon as the other crews realized what was happening, their troubles would only increase.
But she hadn't gotten that far just to give up, especially not when her new friends and allies needed their help.
"What's this place?" Matthew whispered, once they were certain nobody else was present.
It wasn't hard to conclude as much. The room was small and cramped with a low ceiling, built out of the same purple and yellow bricks as the rest of the ship. The only light was a thin trickle from outside, through slits in a tall, sealed iron door. It appeared to be a storage space, filled with wooden chests and odd, ridged purple boxes. Alice opened the lid of one chest and stared open-mouthed at the contents: it was stuffed to the brim with stacks of ingots and gemstones. The container beside it held assorted wooden logs and stone blocks, while yet another held raw meats and various seeds and saplings, as well as dirt.
"How did all of this get here?"
Curious, she pulled the lid on one of the purple boxes. The entire top half lifted apart, revealing items more in-line with the End: chorus fruits and seeds, yellow stone blocks, and more piles of purple bricks.
"This one looks different," Matthew said.
He was looking at another wooden chest in the corner, but it stood out from all the others. It was ornately made, with intricate carvings in the frame. An emblem she didn't recognize was engraved onto the lid, a circle above a few wavy lines. There were a few similar chests nearby it, and they each held the strangest items of all: stacks of sand, paper, gunpowder, and the membranous flaps of skin one could take off of dead phantoms. She looked at the wings she was wearing and realized they had a similar texture.
"They must've taken all this stuff from the Overworld," Matthew continued. "I'm not sure who they'd have gotten so many membranes from, though."
Alice looked back at the chests, wondering if it was all mere plunder or if the airborne Endermen had actually managed to trade with anyone. The only interactions between their two worlds that she'd heard of- prior to her current adventure, at any rate- were the fights from centuries earlier. She knew friendly relations were possible, but was there already a precedent somewhere in the Overworld?
"Blech."
She turned around. "Did you say something, Matt?"
He was glancing about the room. "Wasn't me…"
Something rustled behind them. One of the purple boxes was shuffling where it sat, and the lid lifted to reveal a truly bizarre creature inside. It was about the size of an endermite, but looked nothing like any mob Alice had ever seen. Pudgy, squishy-looking under its shell, and with skin as yellow as the End's rocks, the thing might have been oddly charming if it weren't staring them down with narrow, mean eyes.
As Alice was deciding whether or not to draw her weapon, the creature opened its tiny, toothless mouth and spat out a tan ball of gas which struck Matthew's chestplate. He didn't seem hurt, but he floated off the floor until he bumped into the ceiling, kicking his feet and trying to push himself back down in a panic. Alice charged at the thing and slammed its shell closed before it could spit at her as well, but it teleported to the other side of the room with an angered gurgle. A moment later, Matthew came crashing back down, and the clatter rang loudly.
"We need to hide!" she said as she was helping him back up. They tunneled under the floor, careful not to dig all the way through the ship's hull, and replaced the blocks above them once they'd carved out a tiny hole big enough to fit them.
They could still hear the shelled mob grumbling to itself as the iron door swung open. Heavy footsteps entered the room, and an Enderman growled. They heard him thump a fist against the shell, and a few moments later the door closed again, with the mob no longer making a sound. Alice hesitantly broke through the floor and peered into the room, then pulled herself out of the hole when she saw the coast was clear. Matthew followed, visibly sweating despite the cool temperature. Neither the Enderman, nor the strange creature, was there.
"Let's gear up in here," she said. "New armor, weapons, everything. We'll take as much as we can carry."
"And then what?"
Alice considered their situation. "Everyone was captured, not killed. I'd bet these flying people are bringing them somewhere… so when the ship stops, we'll bust out and free them."
She didn't want to consider what they would do if the ship didn't ever stop.
Salsh hadn't exactly been knocked out, as he recalled being brought from Himassen to the ships, but his head was still spinning and his vision was blurry by the time the slowness potion wore off. He was dragged below the deck and teleported into a cramped cage made of obsidian and purpur bricks, alongside a few captured Dwellers of the Ashen Fields. The room and neighboring cells were visible through a hole in the bricks, only half a block wide, and he could see Canros and Yarros being imprisoned across from him. He heard groans and sighs of despair; the slowness was wearing off for the Dwellers and the Watchers of the Whispering Groves as well, and everyone's predicament was becoming clear. They'd been stripped of their weapons and armor, and winged soldiers were lining the corridor outside, so simply teleporting out of their cells wouldn't have gotten the prisoners very far.
More people were coming down the purpur brick stairs. Salsh recognized them: Lurex'skonaslar was still wearing her gold-colored robe, and the triplets were behind her. There was another Enderman too, garbed in a pair of wings and an enchanted purpur helmet with two curved horns. He looked middle-aged, much older than Salsh yet nowhere near as elderly as the Cindered One. He came to a stop in front of the cell opposite Salsh, folding his arms at the two leaders within.
"Yarros'hazmissen and Canros'rutnasreis," he began, his voice gravelly and deep. "The Terman'esresim welcome you. I am Hiscal'ogmisresim."
"The Terman'eslar, less so," remarked Lurex'skonaslar.
So the Fliers of the Open Skies had thrown in with the Acolytes. Salsh stayed quiet as the apparent captain turned to look at him. "You don't fit in with the rest… who might you be?"
"He is from the Terman'esherad. He's given us a surprising amount of trouble for one Void Walker, to say nothing of his alien cohorts."
"Those two Walkers of the Bright Sky and Blue Pain?" he asked. "Yes, I saw them down below… they were left behind when we departed. They won't be causing you any further problems now."
Salsh slumped back in the cell, bumping into a Dweller behind him. Alice and Matthew hadn't been taken prisoner, they were abandoned in Himassen. They couldn't follow him, they couldn't even go home.
"Whatever happens, we'll take it on together."
And now they couldn't. They would be stuck on that island for the rest of their lives.
"You look upset, Groundskeeper," said Hiscal. "Don't tell me those two could have been that important."
Salsh teleported out of the cell. Lurex backed away, positioning herself in front of the triplets, but he didn't care about any of them and lunged for Hiscal with a scream. He was caught by a pair of Flier grunts and warped right back in, where he could do nothing more than glare through the gap in the bricks.
"How sad," Hiscal remarked. "You've allied with the greatest enemies our kind has ever known. Truly, you have lost your way."
"The Abyssal Tyrant was our greatest enemy," he spat. "It was her who forced us to fight. It was her who led to so many deaths."
Hiscal frowned. "She's long since been dealt with, and not even by Void Walker hands. The Wicked Two took more than just the lives of our ancestors, they also stole their chance to strike back."
"Right you are," said Lurex, "and we will take what we are owed from their world. The Terman'eslar welcomes your tribe."
That just earned a snort of laughter from Hiscal. "I should hope so, after we reinforced your failed operation."
Lurex and the triplets, noticeably annoyed, went back up the stairs to the upper deck. Once they were gone, the small grin faded from Hiscal's face, and he just looked tired. "You shouldn't resist them. This is what is best for us, can't you see it?"
"How is this good for us?" Salsh demanded. "Another invasion will only lead to more deaths- for them, AND for us!"
Hiscal approached his cell, glowering at him. "Not if we stand united! Under our own strength, with our forces fighting as one, things will be different! We can live up to our potential and then some!"
Behind him, Canros sighed. "You romanticize those dark days. I recall them well, Hiscal'ogmisresim. The deaths, the fear… none of us who lived through that time cared for 'our potential.'"
"Of course not. You still abide by old ways of thinking," he scoffed. "It's taken fresher perspectives to see what you could not… to grasp at the opportunities you let slip between your fingers. And for your information, I lived through it as well."
Yarros spoke up. "Our race has been recovering from that time. Our numbers are growing again, and our tribes have found new homes. We are healing, my friend… why would you throw this away out of anger?"
Hiscal turned and slammed a fist against their cell's wall. "Because I should be angry, and so should all of you! I was a mere newborn when the Wicked Two killed my birthers. So many of us died, and they never faced justice for it! Are we to simply let go of that?!"
He didn't get an answer, so he backed away from the cell with a huff. "No. The Acolytes of the Violet Gaze were founded by a visionary, one who believes we can achieve so much more if only we seize the opportunity. Countless others like me, who lost everything, have joined his cause. We are taking you all to meet him… if you have any sense, any wish to see our tragic history set right, you will come around to his point of view."
With that, he marched up the stairs after Lurex. The winged guards remained where they were, but nobody else tried to break out. Sheer dread had set in: they'd come to the End to face the Acolytes of the Violet Gaze, yet Salsh didn't at all feel ready to be taken directly to their leader. But there was more at stake than his own mission now.
"Matthew… Alice… I promise, whatever the cost, I will defeat him. I WILL find you again, when this is done."
Lurex stood on the deck of the Fliers' main ship, watching the triplets quietly converse. Reluctant as she was to admit it, their new allies' timely assistance had won them the day, when her own undead army had failed. Of course, she couldn't have anticipated the Dwellers of the Ashen Fields arriving, but she doubted Phoros would be so understanding. Regardless, the outcome of the operation was an immense success: they hadn't just captured one tribe, but two, and that meant the Acolytes now had control over practically every remaining group of Void Walkers. All manner of tribes, large and small, willing and unwilling, were now contributing to the development of their new empire. The only ones left, the last significant holdouts to their expansion, were none other than the Keepers of the Hallowed Grounds. If only Geres'anmislar hadn't gotten himself killed, he would have no doubt been ecstatic for their progress.
She thought about what Hiscal had said to the lone Groundskeeper below decks. The Land of Bright Sky and Blue Pain's denizens were no friends of the Land of Infinite Void. Lurex recalled visiting the other world when she was very young, curious to learn more about it and to sample its resources. She'd attempted to greet a few of its natives, only for them to recoil in terror before more arrived and chased her away. The sharp blades they'd wielded left scars on her exoskeleton which had mostly faded into adulthood, yet the fear and fury on their faces were fresh on Lurex's mind all those years later.
"Primitive creatures, and nothing more…"
What would they know of true intellect, for all their advances in technology? The Walkers of the Infinite Void had developed gateways to other worlds, and access to the treasures within, while the lesser beings in said worlds could do nothing more than replicate their portals. Under the heels of the Void Walkers, they would serve better purposes, and perhaps even learn to appreciate the gifts their new masters offered.
"What tribe were you from?"
Hiscal joined her on the deck, rustling his wings. There was a gentle, curious look in his eyes, one which made her uncomfortable. "Excuse me?"
"Before you joined the Acolytes of the Violet Gaze," he clarified. "To whom were you born?"
"...the Nomads of the Yellow Hills. But you've likely not heard of them."
Her original tribe was a simple one, content to roam the Land of Infinite Void and take in its sights. She'd grown tired of their lifestyle, so bereft of progress or development, by the time she reached adulthood. When they were approached by the fledgeling Acolytes, and when Phoros offered the Nomads a place in his forces, Lurex alone was quick to accept. The rest of her tribe had been assimilated into the Acolytes before long, while she rose through the ranks until she was a prestigious scientific officer. She had envisioned greatness as a child, for herself but mostly for her race as a whole, and the new empire was her chance to achieve it.
"I can't say I have," Hiscal agreed. "Nonetheless, it must have been nice to be raised in such a stable community. I was too young to even learn the name of my tribe before my caretakers were killed. I barely escaped with my own life…"
Lurex's curiosity was piqued. "You encountered them directly?"
"The memory is… fuzzy. I wasn't even old enough to speak at the time, but I remember hearing them approach. I believe I saw them from behind, as they cut down a few others I was with. They did not notice me, and I fled."
"You're luckier than most who crossed paths with them…"
Hiscal chuckled. "You know, we've had dealings with Walkers of the Blue Pain since then. Every now and then, some scouts of ours will travel to their world to trade with them. It is how we obtain membranes for our elytra."
"Are they aware of our plans?" Lurex asked, giving him a frown.
"Not at all. As far as they know, the Void Walkers are entirely reclusive, and none will be found in their region."
"Then they will not suspect a thing, until our forces are upon them…"
The fleet moved quickly, and before long the ships were coming to a halt as they approached Nuroslar. Built atop one of the largest floating islands, the Acolytes' city never failed to impress Lurex with its scale. The buildings were structured not unlike chorus trees, beginning with central "stalks" which branched out to other towers and ramparts at the higher floors, but they extended far above even the tallest of forests. The city was made all of obsidian and purpur and voidstone bricks, a testament to the strength the Acolytes exerted. Designated spaces for farmlands were scattered around the perimeter, tended to by subjugated Void Walkers from smaller tribes.
Acolyte soldiers teleported out to greet the ships as they stopped, watching from the ground below. One by one, Fliers swooped down to the city or warped off of their vessels, carrying the prisoners with them. Lurex, Hiscal, and the triplets descended as well.
"Home at last," she sighed, relieved to be back. She could return to her studies on the undead once they were settled. "Thital'wagamislar, I will deliver our report. You are free to do as you like for now."
"Up there!" shouted an Acolyte.
Everyone turned to look at one of the smaller ships. Two people were left on its deck, but they weren't Void Walkers. Lurex shouldn't have been surprised to see the Groundskeeper's cohorts there, yet she still was. Were they truly so determined to be thorns in her side?
"Enough of this!" she snapped. "Kill them, MAKE SURE OF IT!"
The Groundskeeper saw them, and in an instant he was lashing out at the nearest Flier. With renewed motivation, the Dwellers and Watchers began to fight back as well, overpowering the guards around them. At the closest farms, Lurex could hear yet another struggle breaking out- the enslaved Void Walkers must have been spurred to action. Their riot would be a trivial annoyance once the main forces of the Acolytes arrived, yet she still had to report the troubles to Phoros.
She teleported ahead of the skirmish and through the wide streets of Nuroslar until she reached the central fortress, the tallest building of all with the most branching corridors and side chambers. To her surprise, Phoros was already in the entryway, waving off the pair of guards accompanying him. As they disappeared, she bowed to him.
"Mighty One, our assignment was a success… thanks to the intervention of the Fliers of the Open Skies."
"So I've heard, Lurex'skonaslar." His eyes narrowed. "There appears to be a problem outside."
"The prisoners are more resistant than expected, no thanks to the Blue Walkers who gave Geres'anmislar such grief. Perhaps we have underestimated them…"
Phoros smiled. "They will be of no concern to us soon enough. You have done well to bring so many of us here… thank you for your help."
"It is my honor, Mighty One," she said, bowing again. "Might I assume you will head out to subdue the uprising personally?"
"Incorrect, Lurex'skonaslar. I have a more pressing matter to attend to."
Then she was doubled over, struggling for breath and weakly attempting to remove his claws from where he'd plunged them into her torso. He pulled hard, and there was a spray of green as he tore her pearl right out of her. She staggered, unable to teleport, unable to keep her balance, and slumped against the wall.
"M… Mighty One… why…?"
He looked at her pearl thoughtfully, wiping away the emerald smears of blood on its surface. "With all of us gathered… the time has finally come to truly restore the empire. Ours is a fractured race, unable to see eye-to-eye, and this needless tribalism has hampered our potential far more than the Wicked Two's killings ever could. This riot is proof enough of that; the others cannot appreciate what we might accomplish as a united race, even with the Acolytes' full strength on display. You cannot convince them, I cannot convince them… but there is one who can. There has only ever been one who can lead us."
Lurex's horror couldn't be put into words. She'd led the efforts to gather the remains of She of the Abyssal Tyranny, she'd found a means to partially revive the beast and harvest her breath… had it all been for his own plan?
"Thank you for your service, Lurex'skonaslar," he crooned. "The Void Empire will remember you."
He teleported away, and she could do nothing to stop him.
