PROGENITOR: WORM (A Wormquest AU)

1971: Not Exactly Green Babes
"Listen, gathering ice isn't a hostile action. Yeah...they have a lot of ships. But they're not being aggressive - they might not even know we're here, Saturn is between us and them," you say, turning to the table. You shrug. "We've got a big fast tree. Why not use it?"

The US generals don't look happy about it. The IEG riskers all immediately nod. Part of Cam's little happy collective union quasi-hive mind bullshit was that Riskers, from the ones that sent them into battle to the ones actually doing the battle, legitimately kind of loved risking their lives if necessary. Which, you supposed...was a nice thing to see in generals.

But everyone turned to look at the two bigwigs in the room. The biggest wigs. Even if the airforce dudes would never want to admit that they were waiting to see which way a housewife from Kansas would jump.

Amanda sighed. "We should drop everyone not absolutely required off, right?" she asks.

"Of course," the first of the US Airforce guys says, while the director of Earthguard gives a nod - and since the little Belgium guy is nominally in charge of the coordinated effort to build a defensive infrastructure around the Earth has given his nod, it looks like everyone's going along with the 'just go say hi' plan.

You're still not sure how they had picked him, really.

Maybe he was tiny and inoffensive?

Maybe he was a metahuman with super-organizational powers.

Either way, he and Amanda shook hands before she teleported him down to Earth, then teleported the generals back, and all but one of the IEG riskers. The Airforce Guys then demanded, over the radio, that one of their less important officers came back. So, Amanda had to go down and snag him. While all that was going on, the Stonewall Nine gathered around as Jason weeks took studious notes on the alien ships.

"Sexy," Lisa said, immediately. "Five bucks. Big fat American bucks."

"You're on," Theo said, slamming his palm onto the table.

Marsha laughed, her shoulders actually shaking as she put her hand over her mouth.

"Never change you two," Brian said, his voice dry.

"I don't mind pointing this out but if they evolved on an entirely different planet, the chances of them actually being attractive to our eyes is...so preposterously small that it's not even worth calculating," Andi said, brushing her hands along her skirts. "Right Beta?"

"We've seen two alien civilizations, one of them within four light years, meaning the density of life in this region of space is many, many, many times higher than ew expected, meaning that there are likely millions if not billions of civilizations out there," Beta said, scratching at the back of her neck. "By my math, that actually increases the chances at least one of them finds symmetry and anthroform mammal characteristics appealing."

"So..."

"Ten bucks they're at least cute," Beta said, grinning at Lisa, who did a little jig.

"I bet they're horrifying beyond our comprehension," Rachel deadpans.

"What do you bet?" Lisa asks.

Rachel glances at me, then arches an eyebrow.

"A ball gag," you suggest.

"Collar," she says.

Lisa huffs. "You can't domesticate foxes, ladies, don't even try."

"Actually, uh..." Beta says.

"Shhhhuuuut uuuppp!"

"How can everyone be so relaxed when we're meeting the second alien species in as many months?" Sabah asks, her voice soft.

There's a long silence as everyone confronts, for a moment, the enormity of what's facing you.

"...alternative is to go crazy, I guess," you say, reaching over and squeezing her shoulder. You smile, slightly.

Sabah considers this...then nods. "Okay, I'll bet...twenty five bucks that they're really gross. Like, goo everywhere gross."


***
So, what does it look like when a skyscraper sized, million ton tree that looks somewhat like a crossover between a willow tree and a redwood arrives in the orbit around Saturn. You've seen the Yiggy arrive a few times when you weren't onboard, so you could imagine what the aliens would see.

One second, the beautiful, glittering rings of Saturn. The curved, graceful edge of the terminator, glowing with the brilliant orange and yellow and gold of Saturn's clouds. The stars, shining brightly despite the glow reflecting off the planet.

The next?

The Yggdrasil, hovering in space as if it had always been there, surrounded by the twisting nimbus of stars around her - the light folding and bending as the gravitational shields held her in place. And then, over the next few seconds, the light of the Yggdrasil rush to catch up with her, causing her to stretch backwards towards Earth before the light has caught up with the entire trip. It took about thirty seconds to go from Earth to Saturn's orbit, and so, for those thirty seconds, the Yiggy stretched backwards, streaking towards Earth - the light ironically getting more diffuse the closer you got to Saturn, making unique halo effect.

It was beautiful and surreal and gave physics the middle fucking finger.

So you really couldn't blame the aliens for immediately launching what your sensors detected as six hundred thousand missiles.

Alerts squealed and you lean over the console, scowling as the radar tracker throws up indications. "Uh, guys, they're shooting at us!"

"Wait, no they're not!" Jason says, immediately. "They're not on a trajectory aiming towards us."

"Yeah," Beta runs over to your side, her bark-covered shoulder bumping against yours. You step back to let the smarties work the controls - and your hand finds Rachel's, squeezing her as she draws close to you. You're the only one that can feel that Rachel Lindt, the Houndmistress herself, was trembling.

The missiles - which, admittedly, 'missile' described basically all non-bullshit drives in space - finished their burning and...well, it looked like they had arranged themselves into a cluster of orbits ahead of, behind, above, and below the alien fleet. You knew literally everything about orbital physics, enough to know that while those missiles were using reaction drives, they were still insanely good when it came to their thrust and change in velocity, because...like, some of them had done serious plane change maneuvers to get into their positions and that cost a lot of energy.

"Well, that's neat!" Andi said, at the same time Amanda groaned and clutched her head.

You felt the same pang shoot through your forehead - like your entire brain had just decided to go 'Hey, Morgana le Fay? Fuck you in particular.' Your hands went to your temples, and you clenched your teeth as Amanda sank to her knees, shaking herself.

"What's going on?" Sabah asked - but then Amanda's body...cracked. Thin streamers of green flames burst from around her skin, shooting out, wisping up into the air, then sweeping along the floor. They rippled and struck the walls and then joined together into a webwork that shrouded the entire room. At that instant, the pain stopped and you sagged into Rachel, who was hitting you with healing surges every few seconds, whispering.

"It's okay, it's okay..."

"Ow," Amanda said. "Fuck."

And after knowing Amanda Sykes, the goddamn Progenitor, for nearly three years, after being around her again and again and again...you had the one, perfect, shining moment in your life to finally turn the tables on her...

And you completely missed it.

In your defense, Rachel soft. Girl distracting.

"Are you okay?" your fiancée asks.

"It was like someone took a tack hammer to my head," you say, rubbing your head.

Rachel frowns.

"I felt a tiny twinge," Brian says.

"I barely felt anything," Sabah says.

"I felt like...bad," Amanda says, standing up - the cracks in her skin starting to seal up. The green fire goes away. And...

You know.

You had never really thought much about this. but...like...how much of Amanda's body was actually...body. She had been pumped with more dark energy than anyone in Earth. She had the powers of a god. Every single cell of her body was blazing with the energy to remake the Earth - potential energy that could restart suns and create black holes and juggle around time. So, like...the body she had might...entirely just be her being accustomed to being white and brown haired. It might have nothing at all to do with what she was - and for a bit, that accustomization had been broken...

What would she look like if you really hammered her with energy?

"Was it an attack?" Theo asks, his hands clenching.

"No, it's not," Lisa says, her ears twitching. "It's a disruption field. My perception is perfect riiiiight up to the edge of the little drone things. I can count the interstellar hydrogen between us and them, but past them, it's all visual light in my stupid dumb baby human eyes." She points at her face with two hands. "And these suckers can just see tiny little sparkles at this range. Useless ass human eyes, honestly!"

"It's a dark energy supressor field the size of a moon," you say, quietly. "And being just this close hurt me and Amanda..." you slowly sigh. "Because we're higher Tier, we have more dark energy."

They all nod, thinking about that.

"We're getting a radio broadcast," Jason says. "Trying to process it into our computer systems."

"Part-"

"Yes, I'll partition it, don't worry," Jason says as Beta and Andi hover around him anxiously. Three little hyperbrains, all giddy with excitement. You're still trying to decide if showing up in a solar system, meeting the locals and immediately deploying the 'fuck off metahuman' field is a hostile action or...eminently, obviously, stupidly practical.

"Oh!" Sabah says. "They have metahumans!"

"Of course they have metahumans," Brian says. "Those ships were able to go faster than light."

"...well, yeah, but metahuman technology doesn't have to break the laws of physics, some of it works because of...smarts, figuring things out," Sabah says, flushing. "So, like, what if they never had metahumans and then got FTL."

"Got it!" Jason says. He punches a key.

The forward viewscreen flashes up the image the aliens are beaming. The reactions are immediate and instructive. Jason Weeks whistles and whispers. "Well, I'll be damned." Marsha puts her hand over her mouth, her eyes widening as the flowers in her hair wilts. Rachel freezes, her spine going stiff. You immediately step between her and the screen. Sabah ooohs softly. Brian laughs and holds out his hand to Theo. Theo scowls and hands him money. Lisa's ears pin back and she scoffs. Andi and Beta immediately start whispering to one another.

Tori is the one who puts it to words.

"...eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeewwwwwwwwww!"

The aliens are...what if...a grub...fucked a spider.

Their main bodies are huge, pale, and bulbous and soft in a way you just know has to feel gross. That bulbous skin is drawn taut around a kind of skeletal inner support - like dirigibles, not blimps - and is kept just barely off the floor by a kind of black, chitenous exoskeleton that clings to their backs. Those exoskeletons spread out a set of six long bladed limbs, with two more at the front and back that feather out into tentacle-like masses that brush along walls, ceiling, and floor. The walls of the interior of the ship are all...weirdly familiar in the materials, utterly fucking bizarre in the construction. You see titanium and aluminum and toggles and switches and glass touch panels. But a lot of the big switches are on the floor, not on panels. The tiny buttons are all designed to be tugged out by whiplike motions of the tentacles. The screens display information in a rapidly strobing, too bright to be comfortable pattern that flickers on each of the grub-creatures faces and skeletons...and you can see that their exoskeletons aren't just black carapace.

Like...

If they were clean, it would be one thing.

But they're not.

The creatures are filthy. Literally, they are covered with mold and fungus. Eerie whirls and spreading chutes of mushroom growth spread around their bodies in ragged, irregular patterns. Spores haze the air around their sides. And...there are smaller bugs. They crawl along the big grubs legs, sweeping in and out of the fungal growths, buzz from place to place like pollinators.

It's a spaceship, right, but its also a spaceship that has been totally infested with ick, ick, ICK!

"...I mean...from a certain perspective...they...could be kinda cute," Sabah says.

Everyone looks at her.

"I like spiders," she says.

"Dear god why?" Lisa hisses, her tail floofed out behind her.

Sabah flushes. "T-They eat bugs that are bad and they have friendly eyes and...and shut up! What are they saying?"

"They're just sending us this video feed," Jason says. "Wait, no, we're getting something else."

The screen fills with a dizzy, nauseating flicker of colors. Smears of browns and yellows, flickering strobing pulses of green and white, black splotches, all intermixing so fast that you might have gotten a seizure - and sounds.

The sounds, though...are English. More importantly, they're the voice of Walter Cronkite. But you can hear the gaps and shifts in his words - like someone has taken broadcasts of him and cut them to pieces, then glued them back together again.

"Do not -approach- within -the- exclusion -zone-. No- metahumans - allowed to - contact - our race - face to face talks - with - normal humans- only."

"Huh," you say.

"I guess they did know we were here," Jason says, slowly. "Picked up transmissions, ran them through a translator. That has to be dark energy technology, right?"

"Computers can get damn smart or...they might naturally have an intuitive understanding of language, or...or they might have a hyperbrain metahuman, there's a lot of options," Beta says.

"But they seem fucking terrified of our metahumans," you say.

"Yeah," Jason says. "..oh, uh, the message is still going. It's just...Rosetta stoning us, they're sending us various words timed with the splotchy flashes - that's their written language, oh my god what does their visual cortex even look like?"

"What do we ask them first?" Amanda says, rubbing her arm with her hand. Her cracks are gone, but you wonder if she can still feel them.

---
What do you ask the grubbos first? You can vote for multiple things if you wanna ask in order, but you may not have forever so DO vote in the order you want to ask.
[ ] Who are you and where are you from?
[ ] What do you want in this solar system?
[ ] Why do you want to keep metahumans at a distance?
[ ] Have you met the civilization at Bernard's Star? What are they like?
[ ] Write In
 
1971: Trade Offer
"Well, lets start with the obvious part," you say, sighing quietly. "Lets...send them a message that we mean no harm. We just wanna find out what their goals are." You nod. "Oh, and if they want to trade." You glance at everyone else. "They've clearly been around the block a few times. So, like...they might know about other civilizations, right?"

Everyone nods.

Andi fiddles with her controls, humming as she works. "Okay, I think this should work." She flicks a toggle and you wait.

The time seems to drag on forever. But you know, by checking your watch, that it's only a minute or two. Rachel grips your free hand the entire time, and watches the blank screen with a tension that you can feel, radiating off her like a wave. You wish you could just lean against her, but...the screen flicks on. The grub-creatures appear in it once more, with the spliced together sound of a human voices coming through. Your brow furrows as you recognize the clear tones of Andi and Beta intermixed, smoothly flowing in and out of Walter Cronkite and a few other voices from radio and TV. You glanced at Andi and she shrugs, as if to say: Hey, they might need it.

"Harm may not be meant, but harm will be done. Interactions of the killingdanger - no!" The grubs seem agitated, their spores flittering around them, and their...secondary organisms buzzing around them, like a wasp hive that had been whacked with a stick. "Remain at a distance! No physical contact with your killingdanger, your world destroyers, none!"

"World destroyers..." Andi murmurs.

"I guess they know Amanda's here," Theo says, a bit tactlessly. Everyone gives him a look. He blushes, then coughs. "Sorry."

"I mean...he's right," Amanda says, shaking her head slightly.

"The..." Andi rubs her chin. "I wonder if that killingdanger is...dark energy." She frowned a bit.

"Ask them," Jason says, nodding. "We should get that defined fast."

"Right, right..."

The response is almost immediate: "Killingdanger...it passes, from mind to mind, when it is used on those minds. It is death to our kind. We have devices to protect us, purchased at expense, great expense." The grubs chittered and clicked as their stitched together voices came through.

"Tell them," you say. "That we will respect their request for distance - we want to keep things peaceful." You glance at the others, then chuckle. "Good thing we're all safe, right? We're all tapped out, right?"

Everyone nods. "Tapped or can't spore," Marsha says, then smiles, brushing one of her flowers along her hair. "But...if any dark energy hurts them, then even my peace field could be...well..." She trails off, and shudders at the thought of it.

The grubs respond to Andi's message carrying your responses with: "A cautious acceptance. To answer earlier query: We have no intentions towards you. We extrapolated from Cccakaaaakakkkrmzzzz-"

The voice warbled and Andi frowned. "The color signal they're sending with this message - I've been splitting that off into its own message, uh, so you don't have to keep seeing it," she explains, tapping quickly away at her keyboard.

"Thank you!" Lisa says.

"Right, uh, it's a complex signifier. I think it might be a proper name that they're trying to convert into English. Uh..." She tapped a few buttons.

"-we extrapolated from Galactus' Herald to your solar system that your system was not occupied by entities that could be utilized by him-" The Grubs said, but most of that was lost under a chorus of 'dude' and 'what' and 'what the fuck' from the Stonewall, including yourself.

"What!?" Andi said, turning to face you all, throwing up her hands. "It's a proper name, clearly referring to the entity from Bernard's Star, they sent a freaking actual literal dark energy construct Herald! It was riding a stone slab! That's...I...it just seemed appropriate!"

"You fucking nerd!" Lisa balls up some scrap paper and tosses it at Andi's head.

Amanda sighs, rolls her eyes, then twirls her finger. The message rewinds, then starts playing again from the beginning.

"We extrapolated from Galactus' Herald to your solar system was not occupied by entities that could be utilized by him. We hoped that that meant whatever entities had drawn his attention would not be dark energy creatures. Our kind, if exposed to the dark energy...die. Galactus would only find a world unsuited to his extraction if it had a God within it. A God is the only dark energy entity we are safely exposed to. We would rather risk a God than meeting dark energy. To find that you are dark energy, rather than a God, surprising. We wonder now at why Galactus did not attack your solar system? Galactus feeds on dark energy, but would not challenge another god."

Silence in the room as all of you chew on that.

"...well..." you say, breaking the silence. "We got a lot of information from that."

"I have so many questions," Andi whispers.

"What do they want though?" Sabah asks. "Maybe we can provide it to them?"

Andi taps at the keyboard.

The grubs chitter back at you, their grotesque, white bodies rippling, their chitneous black legs shifting from side to side as they speak. "We require water ice for reaction mass. We require radioactive and heavy elements for synthesis of materials. We require complex organic molecules for biological systems within our vehicles. We require magnetospheres to lower our artificial magnetospheres and begin long term maintenance and repair on our ships. We require exotic particles from polar solar winds to recharge our faster than light drive. We require a songhome to dwell in, a keening place for the stars evermore. This last is a species want, beyond the span of a single rotation of the galactic disk."

"...what?" Theo says.

"They want a home," Tori says, quietly. "They're refugees."

We all look at her.

"They're carrying city sized spaceships, they need to do massive repairs, they just want raw supplies - that's not war fleet stuff, that's...Roma caravan stuff." She bites her lip, her dark skin glinting a bit in the light of the bridge as she looks down at her hands. "I mean, that's what I think, at least."

You nod. "So...we know why they're here. We know why they want us at a distance. But I want to know more about..." you sigh, then clench your teeth. "Galactus, fuck, can't we use their name for him?"

"Do you want me to rip out your tongue and turn your throat inside out, then strap some extra organs to you?" Andi asks.

"You're kidding," you say.

Andi pushes a button as Beta covers her ears. The hideous screeching noise makes your skin wriggle and your ears ache. Your hands go to your head and you focus, then make the sound go away by shutting the vibrations of specific noises right the fuck down. "Jeeze, fine! I get it! Okay...Galactus it is," you say, then sigh. "But just cause we're CALLING him Galactus, doesn't mean he's actually..." you trail off. "You know."

Andi types away, and the grubs communicate back. The stitched together voice sounds bleak. That might just be you, though.

"There are Gods and Pandemonium. You are Pandemonium. When your form-mind is infected by Dark Energy, it is not held perfectly, in the tightened mouthparts." The grubs writhe from side to side, as if all of them are moving in the same, steady dancing pattern. You shudder and squeeze Rachel's hand tighter. "Pandemonium spreads, and they spread to other Pandemonium - the song gets louder, gets louder, gets louder...Gods, though, hold tight with every part of their parts. They do not flare. They do not spread. They do not spore."

Amanda bites her lip. "Is...that possible? Other Progenitors, but...some...aren't Progenitors?"

Andi shrugs. "We have no idea," she whispers. "We have a sample size of one."

You give Amanda a wry little smile. She looks grim, watching the grubs as they sway, listening to their odd, sing song voice. It's almost entirely Andi's voice now - spliced together, with only the occasional stentorian sound emerging from alto. "Galactus is a God. He crafts his world, to his will. He does not allow interference. Only some have gone to his realm. They call it...Hellworld."

"Well," you say. "That doesn't sound awesome exactly."

"Andi, if you say we should switch the translation to Darkseid, I am going to throw you out of an airlock," Lisa says, not taking her eyes off the grubs. "They're scared."

"How can you tell?" Sabah asks.

Lisa flashes a toothy smile at Sabah. "Hypersense."

"But they're blocking-" Sabah says.

"They're beaming this past the block, and I have been watching their physical reactions for the entire conversation, and I'm telling you, they're scared of Galactus," Lisa says, shaking her head. "I think Hellworld is the best translation that we're going to get from the Grubbies."

Marsha frowns, slowly. "Andi, while we, uh, discuss Hellworld, can you ask them what their species name is?" she asks. "I don't want to keep calling them Grubs. Or Grubbies."

"Grubbies is kind of cute," Sabah says, while Andi types.

The Grubs send back a single word. "We are Humans."

Everyone freezes.

Andi holds up his hand. "Hold up. Human is from homo, which means man, I.E, human being, it's...human just means us, referring to ourselves. They're using our language, so of course, the direct translation of their term for themselves is going to be human."

"Riiiiiiiiight," Lisa says. "That's confusing, so, Grubbies?"

"Cam," Jason says.

"No, we're not calling them that," Lisa says.

"The Herald's first contact was with a IEG exploration ship," Jason says, swinging around in his seat to look at us. "Galactus' only view of human minds is from a bunch of ProgHarm citizens - that's why he thinks we're a God civilization! Their entire mental architecture is subtly being manipulated by a single syntergenic focal point."

"That...that...that makes...an...annoying amount of sense," Andi says, Beta nodding with her.

"Are you saying that we just got a temporary reprieve from immediate alien invasion because of Nugent FREAKING Cam's paranoid mind control hive mind bullshit!?" You explode. Rachel shoots a frown at you and you flush, but before you can say anything more, Amanda puts her hands over her face and laughs, her shoulders shaking.

"She is going to be insufferable after this, isn't she?" she asks.

"Trade offer," the Grubs, or Grubbies, or Humans or whatever you wanted to call them said. "Full galactic map of our wandering in exchange for organics, following patterns." Andi reads off the flashing letters.

"They need a lot of sugar," she mutters.

---
Trade offer!? You get ____ they get ???

[ ] Accept trade offer
[ ] Counter offer: You can stay in system as long as you want, under our protection, in exchange for total technological, informational and cultural exchange. We will only use safe people to contact you - baselines and non-infectious metahumans, assuming that's safe.
[ ] Write In

Also...the heck...do you call them?
[ ] Grubbies!
[ ] What if we just make a point that all sophonts are "human" - they get human rights, they can be parts of human society, so they're humans.
[ ] Write In
[
 
1971: Finale
"Well," you say, reading the chemical list again. You turn back to face the rest of the Stonewall Nine and smile. "If we run low, we can always find Grimes."

They nod.

Amanda's brow furrows. "Who the heck is Grimes?"


—​


Cronkite Colony
Mars
March 12th
1971



You were looking at the latest translation of the galactic map that the Cronckites had given you when a cough came at the door and you turned to see that, at last, the freaking diplomat had arrived.

The past week and change had been some of the most annoyingly slow busywork that you'd ever had to take part in - requiring a vast amount of work and an exceeding amount of care that left you feeling frazzled and irritated by everything around you. It wasn't that you were a blunt instrument! You could fine tune the breakdown of physics with enough precision to do brain surgery just by splitting the right atom in the right way!

But still.

The Cronkrites - a name that started as a joke, then became more and more settled as the aliens decided to just keep using their initial sound mixing software for translation - were incredibly sensitive to dark energy emissions of all kinds. But they also needed a lot of dark energy emissions for…any kind of diplomatic interaction to happen at all, because their language was so different.

And when they agreed to trade technology for a place to live, the United Nations had put their heads together, looked at the requests that the Cronkites had put together for a homeworld, then ignored them and said they could have Mars.

It was naked self interest. Everyone wanted the non-dark energy based FTL systems, the replicable by baseline space aged materials (the stuff these guys could do with noble gasses was slightly insane and absolutely cheating), the space aged medical technology…which, while not immediately applicable to human biology, was still fascinating enough that everyone on Earth was practically chewing their arms off to get it.

So, give them a planet as soon as possible, then leave it to the Stonewall Nine and the Progenitor to make the Cronkites actually happy.

Oh, that's not the only reason, Lisa had said to you when you had groused about it. There's also the fact Mars is within range of the big guns.

You weren't sure how much of that was actually a part of their thinking. But since giving the Cronkites a place to live had made them "joysong" and "bounty-yes-manifold", you weren't exactly going to grump about the hard work.

It was mostly the fact you had to walk on eggshells and double and triple check everything with Andi, who was downright paranoid.

Still.

Amanda, working with Andy, had used dark energy to create natural solutions to some of the major problems with Mars. The gravity was no problem - according to themselves, the Cronkites took gravity shifts in utter stride, biologically. They just needed some gravity - even a minute amount - to give an up/down state to their less sentient "subsystems." Yeah, they were less singular beings and more…colonies with intention. Each grub was a big non-sentient sack of muscle and digestive systems, colonized by a complex fungal growth that, when it grew into the nerves of the grubs created their sentience. It was then supported by a carefully cultivated ecosystem of tiny bugs that flew around providing valuable social chemicals and information and…

And…

It was all so gross.

But it needed an up or down to function, just like how a ton of human biology needed an up or down. It just didn't degrade in quite the same way humans did.

Anyway, Amanda had just teleported to the core of Mars and spun it up again. Afterwards, she had needed a hot coffee and two aspirins. With the magnetosphere of Mars up and running again, it had just been a lot of building structures to the specifications of the Cronkites, with information relayed between them and Andi. But now they were supposed to be landing, and that meant the United Nations had sent…

A diplomat!

She was tall, very skinny, with long hair, and big glasses. Kinda cute, in a wide eyed, 'oh gee shucks i'm on mars, about to talk to aliens' kind of way. Your brow furrowed. Kinda young too. "Uh," you say. "Are you from the UN?"

"Yeah! Uh! Oh! Hi! Yes! Kinda! Sorta. I'm the diplomat's…diplomat!" she said, pointing at herself. "We've been in communication with, uh, with Time Theif…uh…" She gives a huge, huge smile. "Sorry, just…wow!"

Oh god, she's a fan.

"Yeah, Andy's quite something," you say, smiling. "You can use our real names, you know. And yours is…"

"Right!" She thrusts her hand out. "Taylor Worm! I mean Worm Herbert. I mean, uh, Taylor Herbert!"

You take her hand. "Lily Sato."

"I know, what was it like fighting Zipperneck?" she asks, excitedly. "And Lady Eyes? And Glasshead?"

"Scary and faster than you'd expect from the comics," you say, a bit dryly. "But, wait, hold up. You're a metahuman?"

"Tier ten!" she says, proudly. "I know it's not much, but…but it's something!"

"And your codename is Worm?" you ask.

"Yeah!" she says. "I talk to worms. And bugs! I just like worms the best. Well, I used to not. Long story. I was in a locker-"

"Cool, uh, did the UN miss the fact that if these guys are exposed to dark energy, they explode?" you ask. "We've got partial historical data from them. They lived on an Earthlike planet until one of them got hit by a…a Spark…" You sigh. No one had a good name for "chunk of dark energy sufficient powerful enough to make a Progenitor" so, Spark was the best you could do. "They blew their own planet up."

"Yeah, I know, it…it's horrible," Taylor says, shaking her head. "...how did they survive?"

"By the time they got hit, they had already colonized two neighboring planets - their solar system had three that were marginally habitable to them," you say. "Afterwards, they were on a downward spiral - their off world colonies weren't sustainable - but the big explosion drew the attention offfff…" you walk Taylor over to the galactic map and point at a kind of thread like collection of tendrils that connects six solar systems together. "These guys."

"These guys?"

"Well, their name is unpronounceable but Andy thinks it translates to Allice slash Imperium of God and Or the Essence of Scientific Understanding," you say. "No real description on culture or biology because after interacting with their diplomats caused the Cronkites to explode…on a smaller scale, fortunately…"

"Oof."

"So, the Alliance Imperium guys left them with a box that produces complex biological material when they push the button. That was six centuries ago." You sigh, and at Taylor's expression, you nod. "Yeah. We're dealing with some absurd time scales here - some of these civilizations are even older."

"Jeeze," she says, shaking her head, looking at the map. "They're all so tiny."

She's noticing the many colors of threads connecting systems. Tiny bits of one, two, three systems, some with five or six. You nod. "From what the Cronkites say, the main issue is that a solar system is really fucking big. It takes centuries to get done with just one and moving onto another - and if you have dark energy, it's so easy to turn real estate into something you can use." You rub your cheek. "...so, speaking about the fact they explode when exposed to dark energy."

"I'm not infectious!" Taylor says, hurriedly. "Tier Tens are where it caps out. I don't pass energy. My powers also don't interact with other people! And! And! I'm not going to be the diplomat! I'm the diplomat to the diplomat."

"What do they do?" you ask.

"I talk to bugs!" she says, cheerfully.

"You talk to bugs," you say.

"And make them smarter, so they can talk back. And a bit stronger," she says, nodding.

"Huh," you say.

"Like your friend, Rachel!" Beat. "Wife!" Beat. "Girlfriend!" Beat. "...with worms instead of dogs!"

"Huh," you say, managing somehow to not smile at the increasingly panicking girl.

"It's even permanent, too! So!" She held out a small plastic box. A tiny worm within wriggles.

"Hello," you say.

The worm wriggles.

"Mr. Smith says hi back," Taylor says, looking proud of herself.

—​


Yggdrasil
New York City
March 15th
1971


You groan as you lay down in your bed next to Rachel and Rachel nuzzles against your side. "Long day," she says. It's not a question.

"Yeah," you say.

Rachel is quiet.

"When…are we going to do this?" she pushes herself, so that she is looking down at you, her hair - grown long and straight - hanging around her cheeks. "We keep saying we'll do it tomorrow. Do it later. But then the universe drops something new and insane in our laps every day."

You roll onto your back. You flush.

"I…" You trail off.

Rachel lets you take your time.

"I'm just scared." You whisper.

There had been enough scary stuff today. Taylor and her little worm had been instrumental in making communications fast and easy - she and Andy hooked him up with a gizmo that the smart worm could wriggle in to provide instant, real time communications, and suddenly, talking to the Cronkites wasn't just easy - it was like talking to a human being. Before, they had needed computers and pre-programmed diplomatic intelligence software to turn their language into what we could understand.

Now…

Now it got a lot easier.

"There are three possibilities, when a species is exposed to Dark Energy. The first, you know. Their consciousness is capable of holding onto it in a limited fashion - a fragment of the power is held by the Progenitor, then is passed on, and the Progenitor serves as a conduit for the energies. We call this a Chorus or a Pandemonium," the Cronkite speaker said, his voice transmitted into the chamber holding all the power brokers in the solar system. You knew it was serious because Cam had arrived, sitting in the background while her smiling puppet, Bao Verong took the attention. "The second is the Diasporics - creatures such as we, who cannot contain dark energy at all. The energy is released in an uncontrolled fashion. With the energy of a Progenitor…" He trailed off.

And no, he wasn't a shorthand because he sounded like Walter Cronkite. They Cronkites actually had sexes and genders! And one roughly mapped onto 'male.' Wild universe.

"The final is the kind that lives in the star you call Bearnard's Star. They are…Gods. Their species holds onto dark energy so tightly that it does not pass. This means that rather than one Progenitor, they have one…God. Some are kind. Some are…not."

"And that's the, uh…that's the issue," Jason says, taking over as he turns to face the assembled delegates. "Two days ago, I…using the Yggdrasil and stealth technology brought myself within a light year of Bernard's Star and then observed it from a distance and used my exo-cortex to collate the information gathered." He breathes in. Then out. You had already gathered from the fact that Jason had looked as if he had lost twelve pounds over the past two days…that whatever he was going to tell everyone, it wasn't good.

"The entity, which I have codenamed the Unsided, which controls the primary habitable planet on Bernard's Star appears to…extremely malicious," Jason says, then rubs the back of his neck. "I don't pretend to fully understand the sociological or ideological reasons, the…biological reasons…uh…" His hands shook. "They, uh…"

"What, uh, wh…what exactly do you mean by malevolent?" the United States ambassador to the United Nations - some guy named Bush - says. You're pretty sure he's some Republican that President Humphry had to put somewhere to keep the politics of the United States from exploding apart anymore than they already had, what with the President getting superpowers, dying, coming back as a ghost, then forming a third party as a self-replicating dark energy gestalt consciousness bullshit.

"I mean, that he draws direct mental and physical energy from the torment and suffering of sentient beings that he rules," Jason says. "Every moment of pain they feel amplifies him. Or. It. The entity in question doesn't seem to entirely exist in this universe. "

…you lived in a very weird universe. A very weird and very fucked up universe.

The conversation went along directions you didn't quite expect.

"We need to isolate his solar system," Bao Verong says, immediately. That wasn't what you'd thought Cam would go for. You were pretty sure Cam was going to got immediate total global saturation of every single fucking bomb she could think of, with Amanda dropping a moon or two to finish it off. "An entity like this? They're inherently inwardly focused. They can be contained, isolated, and dealt with on our own time scales."

"And where did you get that assumption from?" The soviet union ambassador asks, frowning. "What if they want more proletariat to oppress? It's another method of exploitation, one enhanced through dark energy means, but such systems must grow - they cannot not."

"And yet, we're not prepared for an interstellar war," Bao Verong says. The Bush guy sighs, rubbing at his temple.

"In my experience, you're never prepared for the war you're going to fight…that doesn't change the fact you need to do it…"

You shake yourself, coming back to the present, looking up at Rachel. She smiles down at you.

"I'm scared too."

—​

The debate went on for a long time. While the United Nations and the governments of the world argued, you found yourself in a room with a globe and the four smartest people in the world. Cam frowns and walks around it as Jason taps at the computer that's projecting the globe in a holographic display, adding more detail to the map. "Another tormentium," he says, tiredly.

"How is he powering them?" Cam asks.

"Geothermal, the planet's got three moons and they're all fairly large," Jason says.

"We c-"

"No," Jason and Andy and you all say at the same time.

Cam scowls. "You do know death might be an improvement for everyone on that planet?"

"We are not killing…" Andy glances at Jason. Jason grunts. Andy looks back at Cam. "Thirty billion people by dropping three moons on their planet."

Cam frowns. "It'd work."

"It wouldn't work, Cam," Jason says. "Amanda would survive a moon drop - she'd have enough time to teleport into the stratosphere and just watch the fireworks."

"Amanda doesn't draw willpower from the suffering of thirty billion people," Cam says. "With the sudden loss of his playthings, the Unsided goes from…" She pauses, then looks at the map, cocking her head.

"If he works anything like most metahumans, then he'll have a reserve of…of…" Andy pauses. "What do you see?"

Cam has gone completely white in the face and as you watch, sags into her seat. She puts her hands over her face and begins to cry.

You, Andy and Jason all stand perfectly still as her shoulders shake. You step slowly around the table, then sit down next to her. Jason and Andy are both still frozen. "Hey," you say, softly. "Uh, you okay?" Wow, Lily. Great question. Cam rubs at her eyes, breathing in a slow, shuddering breath - and then shakes her head.

"No," she says.

"Uh, Andy, Jason, go…get coffee or something," you say. Jason stands up to do that, and Andy shoots you a nervous glance.

Cam looks at you with sad, sad, sad eyes. "I'm not embarrassed," she says, then sniffs. "Emotions are part of being human." She wipes at her eyes again with her palms. "Just…normally, I can control it better."

"Yeah," you say, feeling a tiny bloom of nervousness. Cam…

Cam's Cam? You don't know if this is her just lying or playacting. She can be a subtle manipulator, if she wants, and the only clue would be when, five years later, you realized that her offhand comment had put you onto the course that would define your life. But…

Fuck it, she was hot. And crying. And you couldn't bring yourself to be a dick to a hot girl crying, even if she was Cam.

Plus…your fiancee liked her. Rachel and you had had very tense conversations about ProgHarm and Cam, and you had promised to at least be a bit open minded. A little. For Rachel.

"What did you see?" you ask.

She points at the globe - at several dozen recently constructed slit trenches that Jason had just programmed into the display. Well, you say slit trenches, they're each just about big enough to be seen from space. "Those are equatorial gantries for the construction of starships," she says, quietly. "Their placement, the infrastructure grids you can see around them, the access to energies, and most importantly…" She taps at the computers to throw up holograms of the moon's orbital paths and you see what she had seen - she was smart enough to figure it without the moons, but once you had the moons on display as well…

Yeah.

They were placed so that'd have the most access to clear skies and easy launches.

The moons that orbited this planet orbited close. So close that there was a theory going around among the planning groups that they had been placed artificially - to increases the vulcanism and geothermal energy of the planet. It seemed like a stupid way to do it, but hey, you weren't a sociopathic demigod.

"Okay, they have shipyards," you say. "We've got shipyards."

"They have recently constructed shipyards for bootstrapping a massive number of small ships or a small number of massive ships into orbit extremely quickly," Cam says, quietly. "And it's my fault."

You rub the back of your neck. "I don't really get it. Like, you're…the reason they're attacking, right?"

Cam shakes her head. She ticks them off on her fingers. "The historical databanks that the Cronkites gave us made it pretty clear: Gods don't fight other Gods without a damn good reason. They sometimes go after Choruses, depending on the situation they're in - the Unsided's forces met…one of my scout ships and assumed that I was alone. That's what bought us time. But now that he's realized we're a Chorus…" She looks at you. "He's gone to full on exterminationist attack."

"And this is your fault…"

"Because if I hadn't built Progressive Harmony the way I built it, then we'd have read like a Chorus." She frowns. "Add to that the fact I called my shot spectacularly incorrectly…"

"You didn't, though? The first alien species we met was a dark god that runs a hellworld-"

"Which is just Moldova again, on a bigger scale. Entirely applicable to human thought patterns," Cam sighs again, then ducks her head forward. "I predicated decades of my life in advance on an assumption based off the best evolutionary models I had available to me - but…as often happens when running on a sample size of one, using biases inherited by a merely human mind, I was wrong. And now we're in a war with a time limit that's a hell of a lot harsher than I expected."

Silence.

"Well," Cam says, perking up. "We got what we have, lets get to work." She stands up as Jason walks in, carrying a pair of coffees he got form somewhere on the Yiggy. Cam takes on, knocks it back, then says: "...I have an idea that is as ludicrous as it is idealistic."

You blink. "Are you sure you're not an imposter? Is J Edgar Hoover in here?"

Cam smirks. "I mean, even if he was, he'd be using my thought pattern. So." She shrugs one shoulder. "Want to hear the idea or not?"

You shrug. "What the hell. The doomsday clock is at midnight! Lets see how Nyugen Cam goes when she goes nuts."

Cam smiles, then tells you her plan.

You whistle, slowly.

"I like it," Jason says.

And for once, you actually agree with him.

—​

"And that's the basic idea," you say, pointing at the map, turning to face the lot of them. "It won't be as big a splash as we'd like, but…still, it'll be a huge number of variables for the Unsided to deal with."

"That's insane," Lisa says.

"I fucking love it," Theo says, punching his palm together.

"Yeah, me too, I just needed to say it's insane," Lisa said.

Marsha grins. "It…does have a certain appeal to it."

"Are you sure Cam came up with this plan and not Andy?" Brain asks.

"Second to that," Tori says, raising one hand.

Sabah smiles. "I knew she couldn't be all bad," she says, confidently.

"How?" Lisa asks.

"Well, you know…" Sabah pauses. "Okay, I didn't know it at all, but I try and think the best in people."

"So, are we all in for this?" You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. "It'll mean that we're in the first wave - the entire Stonewall Nine. And it's running on a hell of a gamble - if it goes south, then they'll need to resort to plan Moonfall." You frown. "In case you don't know, that's where our biggest high tiers that aren't me punt the moons out of orbit and onto the planetary surface."

Everyone looks pensive at that.

Sabah nods. "How many people live on Hellworld, again?"

"Between twenty, thirty and forty billion - approximations are hard to measure up. Most of them don't really move around," Andy says, quietly. "They live in cubbyholes, hooked up to the Tormentariums."

"Right," Sabah says. "They're still people."

"They have to be," Theo says, shrugging his shoulders. "Doesn't work otherwise, right?"

Everyone is silent again, thinking.

"I'm in," Marsha says.

"Me too," Tori says.

Theo snorts as you look at him. "Do you need to ask? This is the next best thing to fighting World War 2 in space. How the fuck would I stay home?"

"If Theo's in, I have to be in so he doesn't do something stupid," Brian says.

Sabah gives you a thumbs up.

Rachel rubs her shoulders, then grins. "...I got a lot of dogs."

You turn to Andy. He snaps his fingers and pops his palm against his knuckles. Then he nods. "Eh. I got nothing better to do, right?"

You turn to Lisa. Her ears perk up and she puts her finger on her nose, then cocks her head. "Hmmm, I dunno. It seems like hard work…" she says. But you know that she's in - because she doesn't try and dodge as you grab her around the neck and hug her tight.

"There's one member of the Stonewall Nine who hasn't decided yet, though," Theo says.

Everyone looks at you.

You stick your tongue into the corner of your mouth, then draw it back. Then you think.

Well?

yeah, I'm in.

—​


Tormentarium-90118
Hellworld, Bernard's Star
March 16th
1971



Moments become time become moments again.

Strands…like thread, stretching…pulling…

Tightening.

Snapping.

That's the thing. Isn't it?

If forever is forever is forever, then nothing is anything. One moment is easily the same as the next, viewed far enough away. It all becomes a line.

So there has to be a snap.

And in that moment between infinity, zir mind is able to not feel the pain of the next eternity. That makes it worse. Zi floats there, trembling and quivering, and wishing for something, anything other than the emptiness and blackness of the snap. Sometimes, the snap is followed by a deep, dark plunge into non-sensation, un-places, things that have no frame of reference.

Sometimes, though, there is a definite frame. Sociological constructs and historical contexts to make the suffering oh so much worse.

Seeing a mate dismembered aches more when zi knows that zi has loved her or him for years, yes?

Obvious.

Obvious…

"Holy shit this fucking sucks."

Zi freezes, dead, still in zir snap, and realizes that zi are looking upon something entirely unexpected within the blackness of the moment between infinities. If zi was pressed to describe the entity before zim, zi would begin with the head. A horrifying bared-skull head, with barely any flesh at all. Two forward focused eyes, predator eyes, angled and centered and aimed right out. A massive mandible, splitting the bared-skull head, coming to a narrow spike tip of a chin. The neck is almost too thin to be believed, and the torso continues the nightmare of articulated, bladelike narrowness. Preposterously, though, adornments are here, and there, placed on the mockery of a thinking form to make it seem more…

Lifelike.

Long dark hair, too thin to be on any proper head, drawing around the narrow blade shoulders. Faint mounds that could be the chest glands of a proper male body.

Clothing, made of the same fabric and material that zi might have worn, before being placed into the Tormentarium.

The skull-face twisted itself into a parody of concern. "Oh, uh, do you understand me? We don't have much time. My name is…well, you can call me Filly." Blade-fingers are held out. "Take my hand. We don't have much time. Andy says just yanking you out of this think will signal a bunch of alarms - so…" Skull-lips twist and smile. "We're going to be faking it out."

Zi hesitates.

The snap begins to thread together. Infinity awaits - and a horror yawns beneath zim.

Zi takes the blade-fingers.

And, with a jarring THUMP, zi finds themselves in a narrow glass tube. The memory if it is enough to be scream worthy, and zi writhes, kicking zir secondary and primary legs against the tube. It's funny, after…infinite lengths of time, one might imagine that the first memory, of being lowered head first into this tube would have faded. But the memories inside of the Tormentarium are…getting foggier by the second, draining between zi's fingers like sand on a silt beach.

Gentle force takes hold of zi, drawing zim out, and zi finds zimself surrounded…by more of the bone-creatures from the Tormentarium vision. Zi scrabbled back, bumping into one of the hatches of the Tormentarium channels. Zi's breath drew, short, sharp, and heavy over zi's inner lungs, burning and tingling with the acrid smell of real air. Zi lifted zir's primary arms up, over zi's head as zi ducked forward, trying to place zimself.

"It's okay…" one of the least horrifyingly thin bone-creatures says. They…she…is green. A comforting, strange color that zi has only seen from time to time. Sometimes in dreams. The few dreams zi had. "It's okay. We're here to help."

The bone-creature smiles. It somehow doesn't look so hideous now. "My name's Marsha. What's yours?"

Zi blinks.

"...I don't know," zi says, quietly.

"Well, think of one quick, buddy," the bone-thing with the bright red all over her says. She's holding something in her hand. "We're about to, uh, try something only mildly insane!"

—​

The surface of Hellworld lives up - or…maybe it should be down to your every expectation. You looked over the lip of the chasm that leads down to the Tormentarium that you'd infiltrated. Next to you, Ngoc Vo was looking through her binoculars. She was how you'd gotten into the place, after all. She and you were both dressed and ready to go. She was in her IEG risker uniform, you were in your Morganna outfit. And both of you were being very quiet.

Because…

Well.

The landscape before you is a vast red plain. The sky is low and studded with roiling clouds. Volcanic ash plumes spurt out of distant mountains. And there are cities. Vast, sprawling cities, interconnected by lines of rail and traffic. Moving through them, their bodies hunched and their forms malnourished, are smaller, less overtly dark energy sustained creatures like the triangular being that had been the Herald. They are watched over by obsidian black segmented snakes that fly through the air on wings of impossible geometries, and periodically, someone gets snatched off the street and messily devoured, screaming piteously.

The cities, it seems, are mostly here to run support staff for the Tormentariums themselves. People, enslaved to torment more people, who then go on to become tormenters themselves. When you had arrived, you had watched and Vo had read the minds of two technicians who had been removing people. Seemed some people took to the Tormentarium so well that they were removed and put in charge of running the Tormentarium.

The techs were down for the count, tied up and chucked by Vo back onto the Yiggy, where Andy was examining them.

He swore, left right and center, that he wouldn't dissect them.

"...are you sure that this Filly is going to work?"

"Her and Buzzy were made for this," you say, softly. "They're the members of the Stonewall Nine custom built for this."

"You know, counting them, it's the Stonewall Eleven now."

"Yeah, well, shut up," you say.

"Hsst!"

You look down, at the narrow crevasse you're perched on the lip of. It plunges straight down to a winding path - and the inside of the crevasse is lined with a gridwork of hatches. Each hatch holds someone that the people in the city are tormenting. All the pain and anguish goes straight to the Unsided. Theo is waving up to you, waving his arm. None of you are willing to risk communicators, so he sticks to using one of his glowing hands to float up a note to you. You read it.

Filly reports that she and Buzzy are operating in the system as expected. Get Mr. B.

You glance at Vo. "Ready to get the ace in the hole."

Vo pauses for a long time. Then she looks at you. "If this works," she says. "If this actually works…then no one is going to ever believe it when they make the movie. They will watch it, and they will say…bullshit."

"Yeah," you say. "I know." You pat her shoulder. "I'll try and make sure Stan doesn't give you any more bad dialog."

Vo rolls her eyes and then vanishes. But she was smiling when she did it.

You hop off the wall, then kill gravity enough to float down. You land among the others and take your first look at one of the Beranrd Star aliens…Bernards? Starians? Considering their structure, Starian actually seems closer to the right term. He or she or…they or whatever gender they use is trembling - but as you land, they speak - their voice musical and translated by one of Andy's gizmos.

"What is going on? What are you things?"

"Hey," you say, kneeling down. "My name is Lily Sato. I'm from a planet called Earth…and…do you know what dark energy is?" You hope the translator can manage it. The Starian nods, their central trunk bobbing. At least, you think it's a nod. "Your…the entity you know as the Unsided? You hate him, right?"

"...yes," the Starian whispers, their central mouthparts opening to reveal the complex articulation of their throat.

"We kinda have a problem with him too," you say as Vo returns with your ace in the hole behind you. "We need to use your tube. And, uh…we figure, since we're here, we might as well give you something else for your trouble." You smile. "How do you want to get Dark Energy powers?"

"B-But…how?" the Starian asks.

"It's kinda complicated," you say, then reach into your pocket and pull out the device that Andy built. It's pretty simple. It has a quantum link between himself, wherever he is, and the person that the device is used on. It allows Andy, for just a bit, to use their neural architecture the same way that he uses computers. Doesn't hurt them.

What it does do is saturate them with the Dark Energy powers that Andy had been sitting on since 1968.

The Starian shudders - and then flames explode along their body. They're warm, and they're blue, and they cast a cool light around the place as they float upwards - and laugh raggedly. "Whoa, now, don't go running off half cocked," Marsha says, gently, while Lisa leans over, then whistles.

"Hey, Andy was right," she says…as you stand…and you turn…

And you face your Ace in the hole.

You smile at him.

He does not smile back. Too busy looking absolutely fucking terrified.

All things considered, you can't blame him.


—​

Zi trembles, trying to contain zir power. The urge to just fly away and…and…and rip into the machinery around zim was overpowering. But Marsha kept her disturbingly long fingers on zir shoulder, and said: "Just wait…"

"Explain what 'Andy was right' means in this case?" the leader of the humans asks. Lily Sato, her name is. Zi is getting more used to the humans, by the moment. Or is it part of the powers inside of zim?

"So, normally, our friend here…zi, have you picked a name yet?"

Zi hesitates. Then, slowly: "Cleansing Flame."

"Got it, Flame here, would be a Tier 4 - solidly in the world destroying badass range. But zi's not human. Zi…is capped off. Not infectious. But zi has all that power, so…zi's closer to a tier 2. Maybe even…a Progenitor level badass."

Lily whistles. "You're going to have to learn quick, Flame," she says.

"I still don't understand the plan…" Flame says, looking over to the one they called…Aceinhole. He's kinda pudgy, compared to the rest of them, and currently has his head in the tube that zi had come from. Zi doesn't envy him. "What is Aceinhole's power?"

"Oh, his name's not…heh…" Lily shakes her head. "His name? Is-"

—​

Tink.

Tink.

Tink.


Across a world. Across many worlds.

In a single instant.

In eternity.

The viewpoint really is all that matters, to define these things.

The sound's the same.

Tap tap tap.

Screeehhhhh.

A sound. Resonant. Squealing. It dies out quickly. Destructive feedback, resulting from primitive electronics.

In some scenarios, the interruption is merely surreal. A burning house, suddenly having a metal platform and a stick figure creature standing on it, holding a narrow, irregular shield with a neck-blade thrusting from it, casually sliding fingers along narrow metal strands drawn taut, like bowstrings. A mortifying social faux pass thrown in disarray as the stick-man leans towards what looks like a straight backed metal frond.

In others, the interruption provides a desperate grounding of sensation. The people floating in sensory deprivation, granted the reprieve of the impossible sight. People burning forever, having something other than crisping and crackling, hearing a voice.

"A one. A two. A one, two, three-"

Deionne Bright strummed a chord to save a world, and began to sing his number one, chart topping single Little Green Man directly into the brains of twenty billion suffering souls. He pitted a single catchy song about a homesick man from Mars falling in love with an Arizona girl designed entirely to sell merchandise in chintzy stores across America so that he could afford hookers, blow, and penthouses against all the pain and agonies that centuries of technology could engineer.

The torturers didn't have a goddamn chance in hell.

—​

"You know, I was originally going to work on Bright on that song," Jason said, on Yidrasil, tapping his foot in time with the speaker as he and Andy leaned over an unconscious alien.

"Really?"

"Yeah. It was gonna do anti-syntergene stuff," Jason says. "But, like, Buzzy beat me by an order of magnitude."

Andy laughed.

They listen together.

"It's a real bop." Jason says.

"Absolutely."

—​

"Here come the fuz!" you say, peering over the lip as it looks like the entire city has become one big swarm of buzzing flies. Except they're not flies, they're those flying snake things. Since everyone knows where you are, you risk communications and turn on your communicator and shout into it: "Okay! Weeks, please tell me it's fucking working!"

"It's working! It's working!" His voice comes back. "The Unsided, right now, is physical! In his palace."

"Is he coming for us?" you ask.

"No, he's not," he says.

You think quick. "Okay. Lisa! Up here!" you say, and a fox lands on your shoulder. "Second wave, go fucking nuts!"

You leap out of the trench, then start to sprint into the silty dunes - and focus.

Distance begins to collapse around you.

—​

The rumbling sonic booms that ring out over the Starian city come after the two flying humans drop from orbit and announce their arrival. One of them is a burly man with a huge grin who drops through the head of one of the flying, obsidian plated snakes that flew through the air to protect and terrorize the city. Smashing it into the ground and driving through its head with both feet, he steps from the wreckage and laughs.

"Fuck the parole, I'd have done this for free!" he shouted as, next to him, another man clad entirely in gleaming steel rolled his arms and then began to charge towards another warmachine that was crawling from the strange, black buildings of the alien city.

"Shut the fuck up, Alphonzo and kill stuff!"

Zipperneck shook his head - then grunted as a pair of glowing red dots appeared on his chest. His chest was fine. His nice suit was burnt to a crisp and the smoke wafts around him. He brushes it away, then glances over to see two of the local aliens gaping at him. He grins at them, flexes, then grabs onto…well, his brain wants to call it a streetlamp. What it actually does, he has no idea.

He picks it off the ground and hurls it like a spear through the chest of one of the flying monsters that swings by overhead. He grins as the creature smashes to the ground, then picks up the head of the first and hurls it at a third - bringing it down with a crunching of metal and spray of sparks. Explosions echo from throughout the city, while he glances back at the terrified aliens.

"...fuck, though…at least dad got to fuck a German girl or two, what do I fucking get, some triangle ass looking-"

"Alphonse!" Steelsuit shouts from down the street. "Come on! Keep up!"

"Listen, prick, I'm not in the army! I'm here because you fucking need me! I don't see you doing any-"

A searing white detonation rips up the horizon. Rumbling mushroom clouds spread outwards as a hot wind spreads outwards.

"...Jesus…" Zipperneck mutters, then jogs after Steelsuit.

—​

"Okay, it looks like we have…a lot of bad guys coming our way," Tori says, lowering her binoculars. "They want to shut Dionarre off."

"That they do," Theo says. "Wanna see a fun trick?"

"I'm more concerned about the army, Theo," Tori says, while Brian narrows his eyes, using a mimicry of Lisa's abilities. The army heading their way wasn't actually made up mostly of the snake things - instead, it was like the ground had opened up and revealed dozens if not hundreds of concealed caches of vehicles that had emerged. Most of them were spider-limbed tank things that were somewhere between a nightmare and a horror, and they were formed into fast, skittering chevrons. They had already begun to open fire - blasts shooting into curving arcs, before Tori started to redirect them with her telekinesis, bouncing them further up into the air and turning them invisible so the bad guys couldn't know what had happened.

Theo rubbed his palms together. "This whole fucking time, I always said, I wanted to cut loose."

His hands touched the ground.

There was no earthquake. No shudder. No hint that anything was about to change.

And then the entire army vanished in an explosion of red dust and a roar of shifting earth. Stone and boulders the size of minivans rained down in the plains ahead of the slit trench, and both Brian and Tori gaped as they watched the huge, glowing red wrist of a hand shoving upwards. A hand the size of Rhode Island, pushing the entire army that was coming their way up and up and up and…

Up.

"What's your max weight again?" Brian whispered.

"...a…few trillion tons."

Tori and Brian gaped at Theo.

"Give or take."

Amanda's voice cracked over the line. "This is Progenitor, I've handled one of the shipyards. A…a bit more collateral damage than I expected, but we're good. Do you need help?"

Brian held up his com.

"We're good," he says.

Theo, meanwhile, was looking at Cleansing Flames, who was rippling with red and orange highlights. "What?" he asked. The Starian's glare got hotter. "...what!?"

—​

You leap once more and then land on a small rise. You and Lisa settle down and she stretches her arms as she hops of your shoulder. "Is this really going to work?" she asks.

"If dark energy works the same way across species, then…well. If we lose, we lose. At least we've caused damage, and wave two is hitting spots across the planet for maximal strategic effect," you say, while you focus.

It's funny.

You have the abilities of a god.

You can…literally do anything you really set your mind to - just by breaking the laws of physics in the right way. But the problem is that you're fairly sure that anyone who has been a godlike emperor of a planet of suffering has defenses against the biggest threats that he will regularly face.

Not his subject.

Other gods.

So, at this moment, when it all hangs in the balance, all you've done is carried a small fox…

And made entropy dance a little jig.

"You sure this is what you want?"

Lisa shushes you as she lays the wooden stock on the red earth and peers through the scope. "Shh. Shhh…" She whispers. "For this moment, I want reliability." She sticks her tongue out of the corner of her mouth.

Sights down the Remmington 700 bolt action rifle's scope - the scope that had just been undifferentiated oxygen molecules a while back, until a completely impossible string of quantum coincidences caused it to manifest out of literal thin air.

Lisa sights a second longer.

Then she pulls the trigger.

Her rifle bucks.

The bullet leaves the barrel.

Arcs gently up.

Is ignored by the field of dark energy emitters that disrupt incoming energy blasts.

Whips through a narrow opening in a window.

You do wonder, later.

What did have to feel like, to sculpt your psychology so that you draw direct strength and energy from pain - to have pleasure and joy beamed directly into your head.

You have a feeling the last thing that the Unsided thought…

Was thank you.

The bullet hit him center of mass and dropped him to the ground, boneless and limp.

You honestly couldn't help yourself.

"Great shot kid," you say. "One in a million."

"Oh you shouldn't have done that," Lisa said, sitting up, working the bolt as she did so. "I am never going to let you live it down."

In the distance, the citadel began to crumble as impossible stone imploded in on itself. Overhead, the clouds began to clear as, across the whole of Hellworld, people began, at last, to wake up.

"We're going to need to come up with a new name for this place."

—​


New York City
New York
January 1st
1972


"And you look perfect," Amanda says, stepping back as she looks you up and down.

You nod.

"I killed an alien dictator, why am I more scared now," you say, quietly, looking at yourself in the mirror. The cream colored suit really brings out your eyes. You look cut and deadly and beautiful all at once - and your knees are trembling harder than when you'd sprinted across Hellworld to deliver Lisa there.

"Because the Unsided was easy," Amanda murmured. "Big tree, rotten roots. This is hard."

You look at her. "Aren't you supposed to say this is easy?"

Amanda sighs. "Your mom should be here, not me. But since your parents are…" She closes her eyes, breaths in, then breathes out through her nose. "...indisposed."

"Homophobes," you say.

"Indisposed," Amanda says. "So, I'm going to be here. And…listen. The hard questions aren't even things that have yes and no answers." She puts her hands on your shoulders, turning you to face her. "Those are easy. Do you fight the bad guy or not is easy. Do you win or not when you fight a bad guy? That's an easy question. There's two possibilities, and you just…find the one that you get to." She blushes, and barrels ahead. "The hard questions don't have yes or no answers. And…you can't…answer being in love. You just have to do it."

You look down at your feet.
"Yeah," you say.

"You and Rachel are good kids," she says, softly. "And if Abe and I can make it work…so can you two."

"Yeah," you say, squaring your shoulders. "...I'm still scared shitless."

"Language," Amanda says, automatically.

"Ah!" You thrust your finger at her. "Glass houses, you once dropped a great big fat fucking F-bomb."

Amanda's cheeks heated. "Ladies still shouldn't swear."

"Yeah, well, I'm no lady," you mutter.

"Then why is Rachel marrying you?" Amanda asks, showing that snark she's more than capable of delivering when pressed.

"...touche," you say.

Amanda offers your arm.

You don't choke up at all.

Amanda leads you to the door - and through it, you can see all your friends waiting for you. Amy and Tina and the newest member of their friend group, Taylor, are in the front row, looking downright giddy at all the pageantry. There's a bunch of dogs taking up the left side of the church - but they're not even the weirdest people. Amanda's friends were stopping in too, and some people from the IEG - you were pretty sure Cam had decided it was worth sticking her nose in. But even they're eclipsed by the ball of glittering light and the spindly, human sized spider made of cut glass, who are both wearing capes.

Stan Lee had convinced the first alien metasophonts who had ever visited Earth - the first aliens to visit peacefully to see who had just knocked over the biggest scariest God in the local sector down - that it was the custom on Earth for metas to wear capes.

You breathed in, then breathed out.

"I just…walk out there," you say.

"And you keep answering the hard questions," Amanda says, softly.

"Goodie."

You and she step forward, to the rest of your life.

It's, on the whole, a good one.


THE END​

There are a bunch of rolls that are just...assumed. Like, cam is gonna 10x10 on her thinks. She's Cam. That's how she does.

For everything else, there's this!

CHECK: Lily convincing the freed Starian to trust her
ROLL: 3x5, with 1 gobble die for the insane situation, 2x5. Success!
RESULT: The Starian is going to go along with this!

CHECK: Bright V Hell
ROLL: 10x10 on Bright's guitar playing, versus the normal ass dice pools of millions of torture experts. It's not even funny.
RESULT: The Unsided has something like 50 base will invested in "the suffering of others." And now, the machines specifically designed to channel that suffering to him are instead pumping him with their joy and happiness. Even if not every single person feels it strongly enough to trigger a major loss…that's still 20 billion WP to drain away…




CHECK: Zipperneck V. Big Snake
ROLL: Big snake has 5 HAR and 10 health levels per area. Zippy takes -1d to do all killing and gets 5x10, and burns 10 WP to get 10x10, doing 5x10, doing 10K to the health. The sucker's down!

CHECK: Zippy V more snakes
ROLLS: Snakes get 2x10 on their pen 4 eyelasers, but he's got 10hd in hard armor, it bounces off. He grabs a building and beats them with it. Thanks to the penetration, 5x10 and, with more WP, 5x10 for a second hit takes out two more.




Marsha, Theo and Tori against the mobilized armies of darkness

CHECK: Really, they mostly leave it to Theo.
ROLL: 2x10, 2x9, 3x7!
RESULT: Well, you saw it, you've already read the post!



CHECK: Lisa makes her shot. She takes 2 rounds to aim, getting +2d, rolling (in total), 2d+20wd. She really didn't need to aim. She's just showing off.
ROLL: 10x10, with +1 for damage.

CHECK: The Unsided has 10hd in his heavy armor, light armor, and 10hd in his force field. Since his WP is 0, he rolls 5d, 5d and 5d on each, getting
ROLL: 3x7 for heavy armor, 2x3 for hard armor, and 2x3 for his force field. Not even close.

THe Unsided takes 12s/12k to the head, soaks none of it. He'd normally have base will…but when you lose WP without WP to lose, then you lose base will. So he's tanked himself psychologically. The weakness of his whole set up, really.
 
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