AN: Something I forgot to mention, but Mavriel does get the Ability Score Improvement every four levels he advances in Sorcerer, so he's gained the equivalent to 4 points in Charisma since first acquiring Sorcery. Not that he knows that. In other news, the new Episode of Destiny 2 dropped, and despite a few characters being subtitled only thanks to the SAG-AFTRA strikes, the story at least feels peak. We'll see if that lasts.
Last Timeline, Mavriel POV…
Even at night the Last City is a beacon of life, but I move like a shadow through its veins, cloaked in magics to help obscure me from the common man. Lantern light and neon flicker in my peripheral vision as I keep my eyes locked on my target.
Osiris, they call him. Revered, trusted. But I know better. The being beneath that regal composure is no Warlock, tragically peeled away from the Light. It is the Witch Queen, Savathûn herself, wrapped in stolen skin. Her deception is immaculate, her cadence measured, her presence seamless even among the Vanguard. But she could never account for my metaknowledge.
Mehrunes Razor vibrates in my grasp, eager. The blade is cold despite the warmth of my fingers, thrumming with a hunger only I can feel. I tighten my grip, slipping between clusters of people, a borrowed cloak layered in enchantments drawn tight against my body. Every moment she remains alive is an insult to the lives she has stolen. A thousand ways to strike flood my mind, but patience is my ally tonight.
She mimics him well, but that is its own weakness. It makes her predictable.
I see the way she hesitates for the briefest of moments when someone calls his name. It is imperceptible to others, but I see it in the glow that surrounds her, my Mystic Eyes revealing her emotions as a hue of sickly green and yellow.
I weave through the market crowd, the scent of vendor food clashing with the acrid sting of engine exhaust from a nearby forklift. The Witch Queen is speaking to Saint-14 now, nodding solemnly as he gestures toward a distant stall, telling a story of some sort.
When Saint finally splits off, I shift my stance, my muscles coiled, the Razor thrumming against my palm. Between this blade and the perk I rolled earlier this week, killing her here will ensure she troubles Humanity no longer. If it was the blade alone, I would not have the confidence. But I am now the bane of all immortals, denying their return from death.
I'll have to take special care not to kill any more Guardians in the future. The Hidden make themselves a nuisance, but I can handle them in other ways now. They still haven't devised a counter for my apparition, at least.
I take a slow breath, steadying myself. Five steps, and I'm in her personal space, my hand grabbing at her shoulder.
She turns, annoyance clear on her stolen face as her mouth opens to rebuke me. The Splinter of Darkness hanging from a chain around my neck pulses as I draw on its power. The chill of Stasis robs her of movement down to the atomic level and creeps along her stolen body, binding her in place. My blade meets her gut, and the breath is driven from her body. Genuine surprise spreads across her face, as if she can't believe her clever plot is being foiled by something as mundane as an assassination.
I draw the blade back with supernatural speed, impaling it again and again into her chest. A civilian nearby screams as the spells concealing me collapse, but I pay them no mind, stabbing again and again. A pity the blade functions off of game mechanics; It would have been nice to have a true instant kill weapon in my arsenal, beyond the unreliable mess that is the Killing Curse. Hard to dredge up the hatred required on demand, you know.
The knife's enchantment catches on the seventh stab, and her face twists to rage as her soul is ripped from this universe, funnelled to a Daedric Prince in a distant dimension. Green soulfire explodes out of the body, burning away Osiris's armor and flesh as his corpse collapses to the ground, the Stasis crystals binding it in place shattering.
"Sorry, Osiris. But I couldn't pass up the opportunity. I'm sure you would have understood."
In a crack of displaced air, I disappear.
Present Timeline, Mavriel POV:
"Splendid!" The Witch Queen's illusion croons. "I was beginning to wonder if I'd misjudged you. But of course, you are nothing if not understanding, even giving an old lady like me a chance, despite my… rather unfairly slandered reputation."
I snort in humor as I let my gaze drift, feeling for the source of her projection. If she's nearby, it's not within Six Eyes' range. I wouldn't be surprised if she could hide from my Haki.
"I do appreciate a secret rendezvous." I say evenly, returning my eyes to the illusion. "Though I must admit, I expected something a little more... dramatic. A riddle, perhaps. Morse code is a bit beneath you, don't you think?"
Her laugh is a song in the air. "Oh, but my dear Mav, sometimes the simplest methods are the most effective."
I tilt my head slightly. "A fair point. Though I suspect efficiency is not your only concern."
{Dark Timeline Excerpt #3 +100 points
Rolling…
Making - Bandit's Knife - Dark Souls 1 (100 points)
Roll Success. Current stockpile: 200 Points.
Purchase Bandit's Knife?}
Though called a knife, the lethal curved blade is long enough to possibly be considered a short sword, one the perfect size for slaying men. Short and mobile enough to quickly slip it between the enemy's ribs, the perfect shape to cause deep lacerations with each slash. Whether quick or slow, this is an implement of death.
What a waste of points. I could make a better weapon in less than an hour.
I reject the perk, returning my attention to the Witch Queen.
"A single distraction can serve many plans." She muses. "And besides, it's not as though Hashladûn was doing anything particularly interesting with her little kingdom. Her arrogance blinded her. Not unsurprising from Crota's spawn."
I fold my arms. "Let's not waste time discussing your discarded pawns. What is it you truly want?"
"Oh, Mav." She purrs, an illusory arm draping over my shoulder, as if I was a close friend. The illusion wavers upon coming in contact with my Limitless field, my own magic resistance nearly dispelling it. "Can a Queen not desire simple conversation? To share knowledge with one of the most... intriguing enigmas to draw my eyes?"
"Anomalies are often defined by the observer." I say carefully. "And I wonder… what exactly is it that you observe in me?"
"You are different. That much is undeniable. A being who conjures power from nothing, who wields weapons that should not exist, whose magic does not follow the natural order of this universe. It fascinates me."
"You seek something specific, don't you?"
She tilts her head, feigning innocence. "I am merely... intrigued. How does one such as you command forces that do not belong to the Sky, nor the Deep, nor the rest of our little pond of existence. How is it that you reach beyond the fabric of this world and pull forth that which should not be?"
Ah. She's figured out my powers draw from alternate universes in some form, although likely not the specific way I do it. It takes a special brand of insanity to actually guess the Grimoire's mechanics in full.
"You assume they do not belong to this world." I say, watching her reaction. "Perhaps you are not as knowledgeable as you believe."
Her eyes gleam. "Oh, an excellent deflection. But we both know better. There are rules, even to Paracausal beings such as the two of us. And yet, you break them so effortlessly. How?"
"Why should I answer?" I counter. "Knowledge is power, and you above all should understand the folly of giving power freely."
She chuckles. "Perhaps an exchange, then? I tell you something... and you tell me something in return."
I consider her words. "An exchange requires equal value. You assume you have something I want. I really don't need any knowledge from you."
"Oh, but you do." She whispers. "You thirst for understanding, and I... Well, I am a font of secrets, am I not?" She leans in, voice dripping with temptation. "Would you not like to know why the Witness did not end humanity during your Collapse?"
"You betrayed it and hid the Veil away. Congratulations for saving the universe." I dryly reply.
She hums. "That was supposed to be a shocking reveal. You're considerably more informed than I thought. The Traveler's doing, or your magic?"
"Good old fashioned research, actually." I reply. "I suppose I do have a question of my own. If you were granted the opportunity to become a Lightbearer, Ghost and all, would you be willing to ally with Humanity? Not like with your siblings, where you seek to undermine them at every turn, but genuine cooperation."
Savathûn's expression does not waver, but I see it; the briefest flicker of something behind her eyes. "My, my, such a direct question." She muses, placing a clawed finger to her mouth in mock thought.
"A simple yes or no would suffice."
She laughs, low and musical. "Oh, but where would the fun be in that?" She steps away from me, her form shifting, warping, as if shadows themselves hesitate to define her completely. "You ask if I would truly ally with Humanity, if given the Light. It is a fascinating scenario. But let us be honest with each other. Do you truly believe Humanity would accept me, even if I walked among their Lightbearers?"
She pivots on her heel, hands outstretched. "Would Ikora Rey embrace me as a sister? Would Zavala see me as an ally, rather than a dagger poised at his back? Would Eris Morn stand beside me without plunging a blade in my blindspot?"
"That wasn't the question." I remind her. "I asked what you would do, not what others might think."
Savathûn smiles, sharp and knowing.
I say nothing, waiting. She relishes the control, the dance of words, but I can afford patience. She will speak because she wants me to know the answer.
"In a world where the Light is mine to wield, unchained from my parasite, from the bindings of the Witness..." She trails off, her gaze drifting to the ruined crystal where Crota's soul once lay entombed. "Perhaps, I would choose to walk a different path."
"Perhaps." I echo, unimpressed.
She clicks her tongue. "So difficult to please. Fine. Yes. I would consider it, under the right conditions. But let us not pretend that your Vanguard would ever permit it. It is easier for them to see me as a monster than to consider the truth of what I could be."
"Trust is earned." I say. "And you're probably the most infamous backstabber in the universe."
Her laughter returns. "Oh, how true! And yet, here we are, conversing like old friends. You, holding your cards close to your chest, and I, oh so eager to glimpse beyond them."
I tilt my head slightly. "I imagine you find yourself in the opposite scenario more often."
"True. But you still haven't answered my question." She says, eyes gleaming. "How do you do it, Mavriel? How do you wield that which does not belong to this world? Do you pull them from dreams? From forgotten realms beyond our own?"
"I dance to the whims of a being beyond the petty struggles of a singular universe, and it rewards me with more power the more entertaining I am." I say. Cryptic, but essentially the truth.
She hums in delight. "A wonderfully vague answer. Do you fear what I might do with such knowledge? That I would unravel the threads of your power and weave them into my own, o Enigma mine?"
{Rolling…
Control - A Lost Voyager - Fate/Legends: Servant Universe (free)
Roll Success. Current stockpile: 200 Points.
Purchase A Lost Voyager?}
This little fella is a long, long way from home. He crashed into your ship a little while after you woke up, spinning in from outer space. He says he's some sort of satellite and came from Earth originally, though the blonde child seems to be a Servant like any denizen of the Sapphire Galaxy. He'd really like to get back to his homeworld though, so he can tell the kind people that created him about all the amazing space things he's seen so far, but he has no idea how to get back. Until he can figure it out, he thinks it might be a good idea to stay with the nice person who picked him up.
Not the Servant I would have chosen, given free reign to pick from the Throne of Heroes. But there is something ironic about this one finding his way into my hands.
"One moment, please." I say to the Witch Queen, turning away. She does not protest, nor does she interfere. Instead, she watches with keen interest.
Yoink.
Space fractures before me like shattered glass, reality bending in geometric distortions, forming patterns that shift in ways that should be impossible. Eldritch starlight pools in the heart of the rupture, a churning cosmic void stretching endlessly beyond.
A figure emerges from the breach, small in stature, delicate in form, yet radiating an undeniable presence. A boy- no, something in the shape of a boy. His blue eyes gleam with curiosity, holding the depth of someone who has traveled the infinite.
His feet barely graze the stone, hovering just above the ground as the remnants of his arrival crackle in the air. Illusory constellations flicker and fade around him, brief remnants of the cosmic pathway he traveled. He tilts his head slightly, considering his surroundings before his gaze lands on me.
"...Have I arrived home?" His voice is soft.
I exhale, tension unwinding from my shoulders as I take him in.
"Hello there." He greets, a small smile forming on his lips.
"Hello." I answer, letting warmth seep into my tone. "It's nice to meet you."
His smile widens slightly. "Abby's plan worked. I recognize this place… Earth's Moon."
I glance at my hand, expecting to see the telltale glow of a Command Seal marking my skin, but there is nothing. No visible sign of a contract. And yet, the bond is there. I can feel it; a thread of connection woven between us, a subtle but constant drain on my prana. He meets my gaze, having noticed me look at my hand. "I am Voyager. And you… are my Master."
The words carry weight, an affirmation of a pact sealed by something beyond mere summoning rites. He is here because he chose to be, somehow.
His eyes flick past me, widening slightly. "Who was that? An alien?"
I turn back, but the cavern is empty. Savathûn's illusion is gone.
"She's… a peer of mine. I'll tell you about her later." I say, already shifting my focus to the more immediate concern. "Are you capable of fighting?"
Voyager nods once, offering a distinctly American salute. "Yes, sir!"
"Good." I reply. "I've got some friends on the surface, and I think they would really appreciate your help."
He brightens at that, his small frame practically vibrating with energy. "Let's go help them, then!"
Crow POV:
"Lightbearers!" Oryx bellows in maddened rage, somehow still capable of fighting despite the sheer amount of damage he's taken. The more damage we do, the less and less he acts with intelligence, becoming akin to a berserker.
Sora surges forward, her Arc blades carving streaks of lightning through the air. The King's cleaver comes down in a brutal arc, but she twists, barely avoiding the crushing weight of its strike as she glides past, leaving several gashes along its torso. Osiris moves next, weaving golden Light into more of his copies, each hurling bolts of Solar fire that force the monster back, while dealing with the majority of the Taken still streaming in.
The Taken King turns his gaze to me, and I feel the hollow hunger of its existence clawing at my soul. It moves fast, cleaver arcing for my head. I meet it with the Greatsword, metal and chitin clashing in a burst of raw force. The impact rattles my bones, but I stand my ground, pushing back against the weakened monster. The edge glows brighter, responding to the Light I channel into the blade. I pull back and strike, carving a glowing arc through the beast's form despite its attempt to block.
Sora capitalizes on the opening, blinking above Oryx's Nightmare and driving her Arc blade downward. The blow lands true, sending a pulse of power surging through its mass. Osiris and his copies follow suit, casting burning spears of Solar Light that pin the entity in place. It shudders, but does not fall, instead preparing to summon another batch of Taken.
"I'll be the guide."
The air shifts as a voice echoes through the area. Small, quiet, yet audible even here, in this accursed place.
"Humanity's dreams. Humanity's hope."
The battlefield stills. Even the Nightmare hesitates. And then the golden light comes, as if from one of the many stars above us.
"I'll deliver them all to the distant starry sky."
The very air sings with something beyond understanding, beyond logic. It is not simply power; it is wonder, the realization of how far we've all come, together. The sensation fills my chest, my limbs. A presence, loving and kind, brushes against my mind, along with the fleeting image of a distant, pale blue pinprick of light.
"We'll reach it one day."
The weight of Oryx's Nightmare, the crushing dread, fades.
"Pale… Blue… Dot!"O' Distant Blue Star
Power surges through me, through all of us. Sora gasps, her blades crackling with newfound brilliance. Osiris's flames roar higher, his very form glowing as if he has become a sun incarnate. And I… I feel the Moonlight Greatsword respond in kind, its luminescence deepening, shifting, harmonizing with the wondrous light.
The Nightmare seems to have frozen in place, where we were energized by the effect, it recoils in existential dread. It swings its cleaver in desperate defiance, as if trying to cut away the effect of the magic, for what else could it be but magic?
Sora is the first to move, a blur of light and motion as she carves through the Nightmare's limbs, each strike a flash of living lightning. Osiris follows, his hands weaving golden fire into blinding spheres that collapse into focused beams, searing away the entity's strength. I step forward last, raising the Moonlight Greatsword.
I let the power take shape, let it flow. The sword responds, a glowing crescent forming along its edge, the pale light of countless stars bound within. I grip the hilt tightly, drawing in breath, and then, I strike.
The arc of energy erupts forward, a slash of the purest moonlight cutting through the Nightmare's torso. The glow consumes it, unraveling the darkness thread by thread, until nothing remains but fading smoke and a jagged scout rifle clattering to the ground.
I exhale, my grip loosening on the sword, though vestiges of the energy still linger within me. Sora stands beside me, her breathing steady, her eyes bright with exhilaration. Osiris watches the space where the Nightmare once stood, his expression contemplative, as if deciphering some great cosmic puzzle.
Turning in the direction I feel the magic caster must have been, I pause, squinting.
… There's a child fighting the Hive alongside Mav.
The child just conjured a moon buggy, using it to run over a horde of Thrall.
"What the fuck?"
Savathûn, The Witch Queen POV:
I have seen the impossible before. I have been the impossible. Trickery and deception are my domain, and through them, I have bent the very laws of existence to my will. I have watched Gods fall and risen from death itself. I have woven lies so intricate they became truth, and truths so fragile they collapsed under the weight of my own schemes.
Yet, I have never witnessed anything like this.
The chant lingers in the air, an invocation of something beyond Cunning, beyond War…
"Pale… Blue… Dot!"O' Distant Blue Star
And then… Light.
Not the Traveler's radiance. This is something else. Something filled with wonder.
And I feel it. It washes over me, through me, around me, accepting me.
Why? Why does it not recoil? Why does this power, this impossible miracle, not cast me out as unworthy? The Guardians are bathed in its radiance, lifted by its song. I am not like them. I am the Queen of Lies, the Mother of Cunning. I am the architect of their suffering, the betrayer, the deceiver. I should be as the other Hive, crippled by existential dread.
And yet.
And yet, the little traveler does not view me as a threat.
Ah.
Mavriel.
I recall his words, spoken so easily to his tiny companion, the way he dismissed the notion of me as a true enemy. An afterthought. As if I were merely a peer rather than an adversary to be vanquished.
Such a small thing. Such a dangerous thing.
Because Voyager listened.
And now, as his power reaches across the battlefield, as it fills me, I do not feel the ceaseless hunger that has driven my kind for billions of years. I feel… something else.
Something warm.
Something hopeful.
This cannot be real. It should not be real. My existence is built on deception, my very existence one of manipulation and survival. But I have never crafted a lie as beautiful as this, as boundless and unshakable as the dream this little one carries upon his shoulders. It is truth. A truth so simple, so foolishly optimistic, so utterly alien to the Hive that I can barely comprehend it.
And yet, the Hive were not always what we are now, were we?
I see it in a memory I have long buried. Three sisters, clutching hands in the dark, looking up at the vast expanse of a universe that did not yet belong to them. Before the Worms, before the Deep, before the first drop of blood was spilled in the name of survival, there was wonder.
Could we have made something like this?
The thought is absurd. It is impossible. We were weak. We were fleeting.
And yet…
I have been granted eternity, and I have spent it clawing at survival, playing my endless game, knowing that if I falter for even a moment, my own kind will consume me. What do I truly have to show for it?
For the first time in uncountable years, I do not know what to do.
I am Savathûn, the Black Needle, The Whisper Queen. I do not change. I make others change. I do not question. I know.
And yet, in the wake of a spirit in the shape of a child, in the fleeting image of a little blue dot that is seared into my memory, I am left with something I have not truly felt in a long time.
Doubt.
And perhaps, just perhaps…
The smallest sliver of wonder.
CHAPTER 27 END
AN: I had to wildly pivot how I planned for the chapter to go with the arrival of Voyager, which made me feel like I rushed the end of the Nightmare fight, but realistically, a weakened copy of Oryx wasn't really much of a threat anyways. He used to be a badass, but couldn't really live up to his old glory as the fight dragged on. Voyager's got his own little backstory. He's not fresh from the Throne of Heroes, he's been flying around the Servant Universe, the same one Space Ishtar and Mysterious Heroine X are from. Naturally, after a while he tried to find his way back to tell all the nice people who made him about the cool space things he's seen, but ran into the problem of Earth not existing there. So, through an elaborate adventure with a bunch of wacky characters, he found his way here, and the Grimoire snapped him up and dumped him on Mav. Where he proceeds to hit Savathûn with a conceptual effect, and she reads into it a bit further than most would.
I hoped Mav would roll a Servant at some point, so I could at least pick out one of my favorites to use. Voyager is not who I would have picked, but I made it work, as I always do.