Echoes of Creation (30k/Exalted)

Colchis - 831.M30

---

As the Skytitan lumbered toward you, each step causing the ground to quake, you reached deep within yourself, summoning every ounce of your telekinetic power. The air around you crackled with energy as you focused your mind, attempting to grasp the colossal form of the ancient Skytitan.

Your first attempt was met with resistance, the Skytitan's immense strength pushing back against your efforts. Its roar echoed through the battlefield, a sound filled with ancient agony and rage. Undeterred, you concentrated harder, your brow furrowing as you poured more of your will into the telekinetic force.

The second attempt caused the Skytitan to stagger, if only slightly. The undead horrors supporting it surged forward, but your companions, Lorgar, Dharok, Thalassa, and the thousand space marines, held the line, fending off the skeletal warriors, ghoulish figures, and wraiths. The cacophony of battle surrounded you, but you remained focused on the task at hand.

With a final, desperate push, you felt your telekinetic grip solidify around the Skytitan. The colossal giant strained against your hold, but you did not waver. You spoke the names of the spirits, those ancient beings born of the world soul who had once come to you with a bargain. Each name you uttered seemed to resonate with the Skytitan, causing it to falter.

"By the name of Aeloria, the Guardian of the First Dawn," you intoned, feeling a ripple of recognition within the Skytitan.

"By the name of Valtor, the Keeper of the Sacred Grove," you continued, the Skytitan's struggles weakening.

"By the name of Selene, the Weaver of Dreams," you declared, sensing a shift in the ancient giant's demeanor.

"By the name of Thalos, the Protector of the Silent Waters," you pronounced, the Skytitan's movements growing more sluggish.

"By the name of Elaris, the Bringer of Harmony," you proclaimed, your voice unwavering.

"By the name of Faelora, the Spirit of Renewal," you finalized, a visible tremor passing through the Skytitan's form.

With each name, the Skytitan seemed to recall a fragment of its lost identity, the essence of what it once was before it became a pawn of the Shard of Winters. Your telekinetic grip tightened, and with a final surge of power, you held the ancient Skytitan in place, immobilizing the monstrous embodiment of the world's corrupted soul.

The battlefield grew eerily silent for a moment, the undead horrors momentarily pausing in their assault as if sensing the shift in their master's power. The Skytitan's eyes, once filled with mindless fury, now flickered with a glimmer of ancient memory, a spark of recognition.

But it still was not enough. The Skytitan, even held in place, exuded a corrupting aura that warped the very ground beneath their feet, making each step a struggle. Undead horrors, driven by the malevolent will of the Shard of Winters, swarmed around you, their twisted forms lashing out with claws and blades. Lorgar, knowing it was not or never, led his marines with unerring precision, using his precognitive abilities to anticipate attacks and guide his warriors through the chaos.

As Lorgar and his team drew closer to the Skytitan, they felt the weight of its ancient sorrow. Gazing upon the corrupted titan, he felt nothing but pity. The Skytitan was a monster, yes, but it had not chosen this fate. It was a slave, driven by the Mask of Winters, just as those on the caravan had been slaves of the Covenant, just as his cousin Dharok had been a slave to the Dark Gods. The Worldsoul, too, would be free.

"Hold the line!" Lorgar shouted, his voice cutting through the din of battle. "We must reach the Skytitan! It is not beyond saving!"

The marines fought with renewed vigor, their faith in Lorgar and their mission lending them strength. They cut through the undead abominations with bolter fire and chainswords, their armor gleaming amidst the darkness. Each marine fought with the knowledge that they were not merely battling for survival, but for redemption, for the chance to restore a being that had once been a part of their world's soul.

Despite their determination, they were delayed. The Skytitan, even restrained, lashed out with its massive limbs, crushing anything within reach. You struggled to maintain your hold, the immense power of the titan straining against your telekinetic grip. The undead forces seemed endless, a relentless tide of corruption and decay.

Lorgar's heart ached with each step closer. He could feel the Skytitan's torment, the echoes of its lost identity resonating with his own sense of duty and compassion. He knew that this creature, twisted and enslaved as it was, deserved a chance at freedom. Just as he had freed his people, just as Dharok had found his own path, the Skytitan, too, could be redeemed.

"Press on!" Lorgar called out, his voice imbued with the power of his faith. "Do not falter! We are its hope!"

The marines redoubled their efforts, pushing through the swarm of undead with relentless determination.

The battlefield was a maelstrom of chaos and death, but within it, Dharok and Thalassa emerged. As the marines pushed through the swarm of undead, their determination unwavering, Dharok moved like a flash of light, his presence a blur of energy and power. He was everywhere at once, teleporting from place to place, striking down the mightiest of the undead beasts that dared to break through the lines.

"Hold fast, brothers!" Dharok's voice rang out, his sword gleaming with ethereal light as he cut through another abomination. "We will reach the titan, and we will set it free!"

Thalassa, standing amidst the chaos, her powers creating a line of plasma and warped gravitational fields that formed a barrier against the undead. The ephemeral wall didn't need to last forever, just long enough for the marines to reach their goal.

"Focus on the mission," Thalassa instructed, her voice steady and commanding. "We are so close. Do not let these creatures deter you."

The marines, emboldened by their leader's words and actions, fought with renewed fervor. They pressed forward, their bolters and chainswords tearing through the undead with brutal efficiency. Each step brought them closer to the Skytitan, their collective willpower and faith driving them onward.

As they advanced, the air grew thicker with the stench of decay, and the ground trembled with the Skytitan's restrained movements. The titan's sorrowful eyes watched their approach, its ancient pain palpable even from a distance.

"Keep moving!" Dharok shouted, his voice cutting through the din of battle. "Do not stop until we reach the Skytitan!"

The marines responded with a unified roar, their resolve unshaken. They fought with every ounce of strength and faith they possessed, their movements a synchronized dance of death and determination. Each step brought them closer, each fallen undead a show of their unwavering resolve.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of battle, they broke through the last line of defense. The Skytitan loomed before them, a massive, sorrowful giant, its body a twisted amalgamation of life and death. The marines stood at its feet, their armor bloodied but their spirits unbroken.

Lorgar, at the forefront, raised his hands. His eyes, filled with compassion and determination, met the Skytitan's tormented gaze. He knew that this creature, despite its monstrous appearance, was a victim deserving of redemption.

"We are here," Lorgar whispered, his voice carrying the weight of his conviction. "And we will set you free."

As Lorgar extended his hand towards the Skytitan, a sudden chill permeated the air. A sinister laugh echoed through the battlefield, and the Shard of Winters materialized, his spectral form emanating malevolent energy. His presence cast a shadow over the marines, an oppressive weight that threatened to snuff out their hope.

"So, you think you can liberate this pitiful creature?" the Shard sneered, his eyes glinting with malice. "You Heroes are as foolish as you are predictable. Let me show you the futility of your efforts."

With a wave of his hand, the Shard began to weave sorcery, dark tendrils of energy swirling around him. The air crackled with malevolent power as he prepared to unleash his devastating magic upon Lorgar and the marines.

But before the spell could be completed, a blinding light erupted from the side of the battlefield.

Settra, the King of Kings, charged forward with a speed and ferocity that defied his imposing stature. His golden armor gleamed in the dim light, and his eyes burned with an ancient fury.

With a mighty roar, Settra swung his massive blade, cutting through the Shard's ethereal form. The impact sent a shockwave through the air, disrupting the sorcery spell and scattering the dark energy.

"Impossible!" the Shard of Winters gasped, his voice tinged with shock and disbelief. "How can you strike me? I am not truly here!"

Settra's laughter was a deep, resonant sound that echoed across the battlefield. "You underestimate the power of true kingship, Pretender. I am Settra, the Unyielding, the Undying. My will transcends the boundaries of your pathetic projections."

The Shard's form flickered, weakened by Settra's unexpected assault. "This cannot be," he muttered, his voice trembling. "I am eternal, beyond the reach of your hands."

"Spare me your delusions," Settra spat, his eyes blazing with contempt. "You are nothing more than a coward, hiding behind shadows and illusions. You lack the courage to face your enemies head-on, resorting to tricks and deceit. You claim to be a ruler, yet you possess none of the qualities that make one worthy of the title."

Settra stepped closer, his presence a towering testament to true power and authority. "You speak of eternity, but you are bound by your own limitations. You rely on fear and manipulation, while I command respect and loyalty. You hide in the darkness, while I stand in the light. You are a parasite, feeding off the suffering of others, while I am a beacon, guiding my people to glory."

The Shard recoiled, his form wavering as Settra's words cut through his defenses. "You think you can defeat me with mere words?" the Shard hissed, desperation seeping into his voice.

Settra's laughter was a thunderous retort. "Words are the weapon of a true king, Pretender. They inspire, they command, they conquer. And you... you are nothing but a faker, a shadow of what true power looks like."

With a final, devastating blow, Settra's blade cleaved through the Shard's form, sending ripples of energy through the air. The Shard screamed, his voice a cacophony of anguish and fury, before his form dissipated into nothingness.

The battlefield fell silent, the oppressive weight of the Shard's presence lifted. The marines, emboldened by Settra's display of power, stood tall and ready to continue their mission.

Settra turned to Lorgar, his expression one of fierce determination. "I killed the two ages ago and was only waiting for the right time to strike the Pretender. Now, finish what you started, young one. Show me the strength of your resolve."

Lorgar nodded, his face set in grim determination. "We will not fail."

Dharok, sensing the gravity of the moment, called upon his marines. "Brothers, gather your faith, your will, and your strength. We will pool everything we have and resurrect the Worldsoul. This is our chance to set things right."

The marines, a thousand strong, formed a circle around the Skytitan. Lorgar stood at the forefront, his presence a beacon of hope and power. Dharok moved among them, his words a steadying force, bolstering their resolve.

"We must believe," Lorgar said, his voice resonating with authority. "We must have faith in each other, in our purpose, and in the Worldsoul. It was corrupted against its will, just as many of us were enslaved by darkness. But we can free it, and in doing so, free ourselves."

The marines nodded, their faces reflecting their unwavering commitment. They closed their eyes, focusing their thoughts and energies on the task at hand. Lorgar began to chant, a low, melodic incantation that grew in strength and volume, echoing across the battlefield. Dharok joined in, his voice harmonizing with Lorgar's, creating a powerful resonance.

The air around them shimmered with ethereal light as their combined faith and willpower surged forth. The Skytitan, the corrupted embodiment of the Worldsoul, began to tremble. Its monstrous form, twisted by the Shard's malevolence, seemed to hesitate, as if recognizing the power of the ritual being performed.

As the light grew brighter, enveloping the Skytitan, Lorgar felt a deep connection to the ancient spirits who had once been part of the Worldsoul. He called out their names, invoking their essence, reminding the abomination of what it had once been.

"We call upon you, ancient spirits," Lorgar intoned. "By your names and your legacy, we bid you return. Remember who you were, and reclaim your true form."

The Skytitan roared, a sound of both agony and defiance. But it could not resist the overwhelming force of the combined faith of Lorgar, Dharok, and their marines. Slowly, its corrupted flesh began to heal, patches of vibrant life appearing amidst the decay.

Dharok, sensing an opportunity, reached out with his powers, drawing upon the essence of the marines and channeling it into the Skytitan. "We are with you," he whispered. "We will help you rise again."

The Skytitan's transformation accelerated, the light intensifying until it was almost blinding. The ground beneath them shook, the air filled with a sense of profound change. And then, with a final, deafening roar, the Skytitan collapsed, its monstrous form dissolving into pure energy.

From the heart of this energy, the Worldsoul emerged, reborn. It was a magnificent sight, a towering being of light and power, radiating life and vitality. But as it took form, it became clear that something had changed. The influence of Thalassa's Mythos was evident, with parts of the Worldsoul's form appearing mechanical, a fusion of organic and technological elements.

All of you could only watch as the rebirth unfolded. But the surprises were not yet over. All around them, the souls of the dark age raised by the Shard began to stir. Millions of souls, lost during the Aeon of Strife, were brought back to life. They emerged from the ground, their forms ethereal and shimmering, their eyes filled with confusion and wonder.

But there were consequences. The souls had been dead for so long that most of their memories were lost. They looked around, trying to make sense of their new existence, their minds struggling to grasp who they had been and where they were now.

Amidst the chaos, another figure emerged, glowing with life and vigor. Settra, restored to the peak of his physical health, stood tall and proud. Alongside him were his followers, also brought back to life, their faces reflecting a mixture of astonishment and joy.

Settra looked at Lorgar and Dharok, his eyes filled with emotions. "You have done the impossible," he admitted, his voice ringing with authority.

Lorgar, feeling the weight of Settra's words, nodded solemnly. "We did what we had to do. The corruption needed to be cleansed, and the souls needed to be set free."

Settra's gaze hardened, a flicker of something ancient and fierce burning in his eyes.

"There is one more thing that must be done," he said, his voice lowering to a determined whisper. "Nagash."

The name hung in the air, heavy with dark implications. Lorgar and Dharok exchanged a glance, understanding the gravity of the situation.

"I have a score to settle with him," Settra continued, his fists clenching at his sides. "Nagash's betrayal is an ancient wound that has festered for too long. His darkness must be extinguished once and for all."

"We will stand with you, Settra. Together, we can defeat him." Lorgar stepped forward, his expression resolute.

"No, young one. This is a personal vendetta, a matter of honor that I must face alone with my warriors. Nagash and I have unfinished business that spans millennia." Settra shook his head, a grim smile playing on his lips.

Before Lorgar or Dharok could respond, Settra raised his hand, a powerful aura enveloping him. The ground beneath them trembled as his ancient magic surged forth. His followers, the reborn warriors who had been brought back to life, gathered around him, their eyes filled with unyielding loyalty.

"Thank you for giving us this chance," Settra said, his voice echoing with a mix of gratitude and determination. "But now, I must go."

With a final nod to Lorgar and Dharok, Settra and his army began to glow with an ethereal light. The air crackled with energy as they started to vanish, their forms becoming translucent.

"Good luck," Lorgar called out, his voice filled with genuine respect. "May you find victory and peace."

Settra met his gaze one last time, his eyes blazing with resolve.

"Farewell, Young one. May your path be just and your heart remain true."

And with that, Settra and his army disappeared, leaving behind only a faint shimmer in the air. They had gone to face their ancient foe, to settle a score that had been brewing for ages. Lorgar and Dharok stood in silence, the weight of Settra's departure heavy upon them.

As the echoes of Settra's presence faded, Lorgar knew that their own journey was far from over. The world had been given a new chance, but there were still many battles to be fought, many lives to protect. With renewed determination, he turned to Dharok.

"We have our own battles to fight," Lorgar said, his voice steady. "Let's honor Settra's resolve and continue our mission."

As the reborn souls began to gather, forming new communities and forging new bonds, Lorgar and Dharok knew that their work was far from over. There would be challenges ahead, but they were ready to face them together, their faith and resolve unshakable.

---

GAIN:
MIllions of People with Admech levels of knowledge. You have restore the ruined cities and factories, creating sufficient housing and infrastructure for all the newly resurrected souls. Now choose your secondary starting bonus.

This has put the planet at Average Imperium levels of tech, with exceptional pieces of technologies.

---

CHOOSE 3
While the Worldsoul is still fully healing, you have the opportunity to direct its growth.

[] (Unique) Unlimited resources (Raw Materials grow continuously from the core so you will never run out)

[] (Unique) Awakened Machine Spirits (As the Worldsoul is partly a machine spirit, any tech made on the world or in orbit, will automatically be given an awakened Machine Spirit)

[] (Unique) Anti-Chaos Wards (Any attempt to attack the planet and/or the Worldsoul is hit with -5 dice)

[] (Unique) Wyldshaping (The Planet counts as your Worldbody for the purpose of Wyldshaping)

[] (Unique) Terraforming integration (Integrates the Terraforming machine into the Worldsoul, giving the spirits greater power to affect the physical world)

---

CHOOSE 1:
[] (Starting Bonus) Tech Spread (Brings your tech level from Average Imperium [New forge World] to Above Imperium [Mars])

[] (Starting Bonus) Automation (Factories and other infrastructure are automated, giving them extreme production capabilities)

---

Settra's Roll:


Yeah. Settra completely owned the Shard of Winters. He will not be returning, of that there is no doubt.