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In which an ordinary castaway from the Plateau of Beginnings who conquered the world, stewing in isolation and contemplation, desires companionship. Made due to the lack of stories currently addressing my desire. Imagine you become lvl 50 with no bitches, you won but at what cost?
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Chapter 1: Used to Rule the World
An Iron fortress dominated the skyline. From the center of Palpagos, the gigantic monolith could be seen from every island, reminding the Archipelago's inhabitants of the new status quo. Every wry band of misfits, activists, zealots, and godless scientists has long science been ruthlessly snuffed out…or assimilated. The PIDF is under new management, becoming the elite paramilitary force it was always meant to be, while rehabilitated scientists in the ice-capped north of the Land of Absolute Zero, work tirelessly for their new master.
For the first time since the ancient civilizations walked these lands, there was real peace. True, the peace was as cold. Cold as the iron superstructure their new Lord roosts in. But peace through force is still peace. A sort of acceptance and calm encompassed the land. It certainly helped that small village living now coexisted alongside sprawling cities, reconstructed and expanded in the wake of their Lord's ascension.
The castle on Obsidian Mountain's cliffside now stands defiant, larger and grander than it ever was before. Likewise, the desert city of Duneshelter has become an oasis for the sand-dwellers, a steady river now running from its center to the grassy plateaus of the mainland, guiding new migrants and castaways to the Oasis in the Sands.
Perhaps most quaintly, the small and unremarkable settlement to the south remains as it had before, largely unaffected by the island's events. Occasionally, enterprising prospectors and history seekers enter the area, wanting to see the palace their new Lord allegedly came from.
Palpagos had entered a new era of prosperity and dominion. Their Lord was cold, efficient, logical.
'Ruthless' some would whisper in hushed tones when the PIDF and its agents weren't listening. But it brought order to the chaos. No more raids, no more stims, no more hunger. Their Lord provided the resources and knowledge, ensuring no one had to struggle to survive if they so desired. Occasionally, those brave enough would enter the Iron Citadel, to petition their Lord a request. Sometimes he would listen.
Sometimes they would see him soaring overhead on a Helzephre far larger and more menacing than normal, an omen of death and damnation, the Wings of Despair. Other times he would arrive in a city or settlement astride a gigantic horse-like pal, black as night, oozing mystique and regality as much as the one riding it, to render aid and medicine. To some of the elders, it reminded them of the Pal of Legend, Frostallion.
How someone could play with the children, feed the hungry, and heal the sick could also raze a poacher camp to the ground and scorch entire encampments with hellfire was a confusing and conflicting one. No one, not the mayors, not the elders, not the scientists, not even the PIDF commanders could claim to understand their Lord.
He would arrive without fanfare, silent and professional, and solve whatever problem besieged his constituents with confident ease. It seemed nothing could stand against their Lord's indomitable will.
Except, of course, their Lord's own mind.
Sitting upon his red throne within the Iron Citadel, their Lord rested, leaning his head on his left hand's knuckles. His eyes were closed in quiet contemplation. What could possibly be troubling someone as wise and powerful as their Lord, nobody could guess. They never seemed to struggle or doubt. A food-chain dominator such as themselves, is troubled. If anyone knew, they would be terrified.
But the Lord's thoughts weren't on threats or problems of the physical realm, those are easily dealt with. The islands are firmly under his thumb, but his mind is not at rest, for regret lingers on.
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"The test results are satisfactory, but there is concern for their future application. Not that it bothers me," said Victor Ashford, leader of the Pal Genetic Research Unit.
EX-Leader. Now simply head researcher.
"The energy produced proved a means necessary to control the Towers functionality, but linking them together? I never would have thought possible," Victor paused, "How you knew which direction to point us in is astounding, we really should discuss sometime over tea, I aspire to have your boundless knowledge!"
His Lord remained silent, looking at the machine his team had produced with his guidance. 'Machine' being a relative term here, considering it was a modified Shadowbeak strapped to the nines in Palladium, Pal Ingots, and other components Victor couldn't recognize or knew existed.
Had he known what would become of him, he would have fought back. Not that his initial resistance ever impeded his Lord. He was quick on the uptake though, using his knowledge and resources to his Lord's advantage once he saw things the way his Lord did. The absolute obedience the Pal Spheres enforce isn't even necessary.
"By the way, has my creation met your expectations? I followed your instructions, it seems you were right about Legendary Pals having Perfected DNA sequencing. How you managed to capture one, I won't even begin to understand."
Their Lord was content to let him ramble, so he continued-
"Frostallion was a majestic beast, but its successor goes even beyond that. I call it Frostallion Noct, though I suppose you have more right to name it than I do. Perhaps you will assist me with a design of my own sometime?" Victor asked with a smile.
His Lord raised his hand at him, then pointed at the machine. He understood the wordless gesture instantly.
"Of course. Your priorities are our priorities. We will see this machine through to completion above all else!"
His Lord gave him an intense stare, the high expectations- no, DEMAND- sent shivers down his spine.
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Working tirelessly, the machine completed the development testing as it was transported from Victor's tower all the way to the center of the island, at the top of their Lord's Fortress. He was proud of his work, but even Victor was surprised by the size and equipment of the armed escort. The gravity and importance of the machine began to claw its way up his mind, he suspects it's far more important than he initially realized.
A device that can connect the Towers and control their combined energy…he thought his Lord intended to use it as an energy source for the entire island, forgoing the need for individual reactors and generators, but the lack of superstructure to transport that energy anywhere else dissolved that notion. Or perhaps he found a way to visit the Tree?
"We will be ready by tonight. Everything we need is here, now it's just a waiting game for the celestial bodies," Victor summarized to the PIDF commander, no doubt assigned to be his Lord's eyes and ears. He found it interesting that his own genetics team and the PIDF were spared but the others were destroyed. Was it simply usefulness? Or had his Lord had a change of heart as he went about conquering the land, absorbing rather than obliterating. Not that it saved Marcus.
Bah, he was never good with people, the sociology involved always meant they were against him, aside from a rare few who shared his vision. Just as his Lord also stood alone in this world, power without equal and wisdom uncontended.
He could say without a doubt, however, that his Lord is used to solitude. Both his silent disposition and choice of pals, dark and dreary, helped prove this case.
Not that he was one to talk, he too was accustomed to a silent solitude.
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A distinct rumbling and crackling of foreign energy filled the air, blue energy humming with an oppressive gleam. The PIDF officers seemed nervous while a sweaty glee graduated from the scientists of the Pal Genetic Research Unit. Their Lord stood ahead of them patiently, observing the coalescing energies. A small legion of pals guarded the perimeter
"Stabilizing…" Victor whispered and he balanced the frequencies to equilibrium. The energy surrounding the modified Shadowbeak warped briefly, before solidifying into a more solid shape, lowering to ground level.
A popping sound puckered the ears of those assembled as a small blast of pressure tripped them. The combined Tower energies, turbulent and roaring, now emanate only a low and pleasant buzz. A rectangular shape. A doorway, Victor thought, stood ominously in front of the machine, the Shadowbeak eerily silent and unmoving.
"Coalescence complete, stability at 99.9 percent, well within acceptable parameters!" Victor announced moving away from the control console.
"What a majestic site to see, never in the history of this land has anyone achieved what we have here today!" he said as approached his Lord.
"If I may be so bold as to ask, what are you planning to do with-?" Victor was cut off as he was sucked into the pal sphere his master had withdrawn.
A sphere his Lord then crushed between his hands.
The Lord of Palworld then walked over to the control console before inputting an unknown code, onlookers stoic and without complaint. The previously blue energy took on a golden hue, giving off a strong gravitational pull. The Shadowbeak squawked in discomfort.
"Destroy this machine and then yourselves."
He entered the vortex.
The PIDF and PGRU gave a silent salute, eyes glazed with enforced obedience. All the assembled Pals growled with affirmation.
He would do things right this time.
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[ +CREATE NEW WORLD ]
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