Knocking on Heaven's Door [MtG/Multicross/SI]

[shadenight123]

Chapter Eighty-Four (????)

My fingers were kneading into the hard, chitinous plates of the Queen's shoulders, the titanic Sliver purring pleasantly under my ministrations. I hummed contently, sinuous slivers wrapped around every inch of my skin as they purred in tandem, doing their best impressions of happy puddles desiring nothing but warm hugs. I was lacking a couple of Sliver Hive Fleets to the remains of the Grand Sliver Armada, but judging by how things were, Discordia had taken them for some unknown reason.

Unfortunately, until the Synapse-relaying Slivers didn't increase in numbers back to their prime it would be impossible to communicate through long distances, and with the lack of Dominaria's rifts, there was no way I could communicate through dimensions by using myself as a relay. Honestly, any Sliver left in another dimension would eventually shift back into the main one that had seen their birth.

You should go see her.

"Discordia? She can handle herself."

We both know I was not referring to her.

"Ah..." I swallowed, "You think? Well, the dragon won't be a threat for a while now, even more...so maybe I could..." I shook my head. "We could be together again. I miss her smile."

We know. Go.

"Very well," I exhaled, shaking my head softly as the Slivers whined a bit, like spoiled children, but aptly obeyed and slithered away. My wrist was held by one of Anthrax' tendrils, his frame glittering and shining with countless colored pustules like a Christmas tree. "You want to come too?"

Anthrax bobbed his wobbly head up and down, and as I silently acquiesced, he disappeared within my skin, not a trace of his passage left behind. I extended my right hand forward, a ripple growing in the air as the ground shook softly, the ripples dissipating within seconds. I furrowed my brows, and then extended both hands. Energy poured through my pores, the hole in the fabric of reality stretching itself as I ground my teeth.

It was getting harder to travel through dimensions, but still doable. My body shifted through the Blind Eternities, the path I needed to take so familiar I could have gone through blinded. Yet I stopped as I met the barrier to a dimension that wasn't the one I was seeking. The Blind Eternities were collapsing, merging and pulsing, altering the locations of their dimensions to the point where familiar tracts of nothingness became different, foreign, new and yet old at the same time.

I stretched my senses, seeking out the familiar place that stood at the end of an eternally still universe, in which nothing grew and nothing died. I found it, of course, but it was further away than I had thought it would be. Perhaps Discordia had gotten lost too, and once I got Tessa back, I'd go look for her and Superbia. I hoped they hadn't been causing too much trouble without any supervision.

My feet finally touched the soil of the grave left undisturbed at the far end of a dead universe, and as I extended a hand towards the soil, I waited. Nothing happened. I blinked, furrowing my brows. I swallowed and knelt. Had the corpse been taken? Had someone found out, and dared? Not even Bolas knew of the location of the place. Not even the Hive knew. This was my sanctuary. My one place which only I could reach, beyond grasp of everyone. Sure, they knew I had lost my wife. They knew she had died. They didn't know, nor need to know, anything else.

My fingers dug through the soil, the wooden casket that should have held a perfectly conserved body giving way as I pried the lid open with ease.

Within was just a slip of paper, written in a calligraphy that could be none other than mine.

"Dimension Ninety-Seven of Borderlands," I whispered as I stared at the note, "The child is there."

I looked at the emptiness of the casket. There was a small, glinting crystal of memories within a corner of it. It glinted and hummed gently as Mana left my body to grasp hold of it, the memories etched within slowly returning to their rightful place within the back of my head. Memories that I had long forgotten. Memories that I had done my best to bury, and lock away.

"One life is all I need dear, so...when I'm gone, just destroy me completely, all right? Promise it," her white hair shone under the light of the twin moons of a world that I had found just for the occasion. A romantic picnic, something so cheesy it would have made my past, and perhaps even my future self, hurl. Her expression was firmly determined, even with the childishness of her face not having truly abandoned her, even later in her years.

"That's—" I began, but was interrupted.

"Promise me. No cheating allowed." She made the most adorable of pouting faces. There was no choice but to obey to that hurt, puppy-eyed look and pout.

"Very well. I...I promise," I caved in, as I always did.

"Now we're going to need a name for him," she giggled next, as if the morbid conversation had never been made.

"Him?"

"Of course, dear. A woman knows certain things way before anyone else—what do you think of..."

Anthrax' tendrils were out, slowly wiping away the tears that were falling down from my eyes. I swallowed noisily, closing them as my shoulders trembled, my fingers tightening to the point where my nails drew blood as they dug into the skin of my palms.

The Blind Eternities themselves could not stop my advance, nor could they slow me down as I materialized in front of the one place that reeked of the smell of Slivers in an entire plane. In this place, a Vault stood sealed. My hands reached for the large, metallic door firmly closed by countless seals of both magical and technological might, and yet as they slid open effortlessly, my heart drummed louder than ever in my ears.

When the final lock clicked open, the massive doors of the vault swung open.

Silence welcomed me as I could feel the faint whiffs of Blue Mana being used as a sort of temporal stabilizer and stretcher. Whoever stepped within would have probably aged really slowly when compared to the outside world. The engines which allowed such a thing to happen were hooked to the main leylines of the planet, and at my passage within the depths of the vault they turned off, blazing lights of Blue mana departing their frames. Conduits of power zigzagged across the surface of the floor and of the ceiling, Red mana burned within the depths of the vault, Black mana rushed through the defenses and Green grew food within a garden kept alive by the skittering of mechanical Slivers, which stopped and buzzed happily at my arrival, their fake synapses eagerly delivering countless logs about the growth of the child.

The growth of a child who wasn't present.

Had...had he left?

Had he found a way out? Had he become so smart, like his mother, that to him locks and magic meant nothing? Perhaps he had tricked the system. Perhaps he had done something of which there was no trace to leave and now he was somewhere around Pandora, maybe seeking him out.

I stared at the bedroom which I had crafted without a doubt, and of which I had no memory because of course, leaving memories for the Dragon to find would have invited him to come and make use of this weakness of mine. My children—My children were the Slivers, but I had had a child of flesh and blood and bones and muscles which weren't chitin or talons. I had had a child. The pictures taken from the cameras of the place showed me a white-haired red-eyed kid, a rabbit-like thing really, which scampered off to play with the mechanical Slivers. The audio recordings made me hear his voice, his laughter, his questions at the Slivers who couldn't answer him.

He had learned how to speak by himself, without anyone else. Was he a Whispered, like his mother? Had knowledge come to him through his genetics? Had the computers done a good job at being his teachers? Was there something he was missing of his education, something he needed to know?

I grabbed with my fingers an old cloth, a shirt that had clearly seen better days but which was imbued with his smell.

Anthrax piped in there and then. His microscopic selves had already begun dispersing through the atmosphere of Pandora, infecting the birds, the Skags, the tiniest and largest of creatures. Within hours, everyone on the surface of the planet would be infected, and my son would be found.

If he was still upon this world, he would be found. If he was within this galaxy, he'd be found eventually.

If he wasn't...If he had left, then—could it be possible that he was...No, the Spark of a Planeswalker wasn't something that genetic could transfer. Otherwise my Slivers would all be capable of travelling through the Planes.

They had to puncture reality's barriers with abundant doses of mana, acting like sledgehammer's to my scalpel's ability.

New synaptic connections suddenly sprung into my mind, a hive of wild Slivers left behind as a token guard revealing themselves from deep below the ground, having burrowed into the depths to survive and wait for the day of my return. As their thoughts mixed and merged with mine, their memories soon turned to the latest events, and my breathing hitched.

I stepped out of the Vault, Anthrax slithering in tow.

"If they hurt him," I whispered as the Slivers began to emerge from the ground all around me, sharp talons and armored plates emerging from their skin, "There will be only death."

The Slivers hissed and clicked around me as they rushed away, the gathering of this world's Mana having to proceed, the desire to turn this entire dimension into a Mana-Gathering battery clear and crystalline.

A couple didn't make it far because a fireball turned them into cinders, their ashes floating away as Chandra appeared wreathed in flames, Applejack and Gideon by her side while Jace remained hidden from view, but most definitely within the premises eagerly waiting for the moment to strike.

"You put a sensor inside the vault," I said. My eyes narrowed. "What do you want?"

"Call your Slivers back from this world's ecosystem," Applejack said gruffly, "Then we're gonna talk with the likes of you," she sneered.

"Tell me if my son lives first, or there will not be any talking to be had," I growled back in turn, my eyes narrow.

"He's so different from the likes of you that there was no point in hurting him, Tyrant," Gideon shot out, "He's somewhere safe, but under escort. If you want to see him..."

"You will collaborate," Jace Beleren finished Gideon's sentence, appearing behind me, more than an arm's length away, and yet within striking range for whatever magic he wished to. "Our powers...are diminishing rapidly. A great threat woke on Zendikar, and we cannot deal with it."

I blinked. "Another?"

"An ancient planeswalker," Jace's lips tightened thinly, "You will deal with him."

"And if I don't?" I retorted. "What if I simply go and seek my child by myself?"

"You won't have time for that," Jace quipped. "Already, our powers are diminishing, and so too are yours. We will deal with this threat, by asking you...or asking the Dragon."

My eyes turned golden, sharp like those of a cat as my teeth turned into fangs. "You wouldn't dare," I hissed.

"We have your weakness," Jace replied calmly, "Now...will you obey?"

"I will need time to recover my strength," I spoke, "Worlds will need to be devoured. Are you willing to let that be the price, Jace?"

"No," Jace shook his head. "There is no time."

"So it's a death sentence you wish to carry out, isn't that right?" I replied. "Youngsters truly don't change."

"You're the last person who has the right to say something like that!" Applejack snarled, one of her hooves thumping on the ground, her eyes ablaze with fury. "It's justice for all the lives you've taken! That's what this is!" a sword of brilliant white Mana formed in her right hand. "But if you prefer, I can deal with you right now!"

"Calm down," Gideon spoke roughly, extending a hand on Applejack's shoulder. "Not yet."

I hummed, my eyes glancing from Jace to the trio in front of me.

"Will you swear?" I asked in the end, turning to face Jace. "Will you swear that once I have aided you against this foe who has awoken, you will tell me where my son is, and let me go?"

"Yes," Jace nodded.

"Then...what if I swear I will help you, once I have seen and spoken to him?" I replied, and silence met my words. The silence stretched for a few minutes. "I see how it is," I sighed in the end. "I'll keep on looking for him by myself then. Deal with your own problems."

I extended a hand in front of me, only for the guttural scream of rage to interrupt my next words as Applejack charged ahead, fury in her eyes.

Her hooves clopped against the ground as she covered the distance between us faster than I had anticipated, or perhaps faster than what I was used to. Twin-bladed Slivers intercepted her midway, emerging quickly from the ground to block her advance long enough to allow me to depart.

Jace did not pursue me. Somehow, I reckoned he knew it would be a lost cause.

I would find my son through my own means, especially when it was clear they would try to milk my weakness for all of its worth.

I had a track already. They had to have brought him to Zendikar without a doubt, to be looked at by their stupid council of theirs. From there, I would be able to pinpoint where he had ended up.

I was a father on a mission.

They couldn't hide my son's squishy cheeks from me forever!

 

[shadenight123]

Chapter Eighty-Four point Five (Detective Conan)

Conan Edogawa. Shinichi Kudo. He considered himself quite the smart junior detective. So then, why was it so terrifyingly difficult to understand his new classmate?

"My name is Usagi Kuroba," he had said quite politely, making a prim bow and all of that. Yet Conan couldn't help but doubt the boy. For one thing, he looked happy to be in school and childishly innocent. Sure, sure, everyone of his friends were childishly innocent and young, but there was a certain difference. Genta didn't like school, and most definitely he had never seen the boy in question happily smile at the teacher and head for his desk with a sprint. No, if Conan had to hazard a guess, which was made all the more apparent by the way the boy seemed to move without a single instant of worry, this wasn't the first time such a thing happened.

Either he didn't care about the glances everyone sent his way, which showed a certain maturity, or he did a good job at hiding it. He had white hair, and at his age white hair was an impossibility. He didn't have the air of a delinquent either, so it was obvious why it didn't make sense, unless perhaps it was a rare genetic disorder he hadn't heard of?

He'd ask professor Agasa later. As things were, the surname of the boy was rife with implications too, some far more worrisome than others. Kaitou Kuroba might have had a cousin, but considering just who he was in truth, then it made things quite improbable for a cousin of his to end up at his school. No, something was definitely off.

"If you need a hand, you just have to ask me new guy!" Genta said boisterously as Usagi took his seat behind him. "Name's Genta, and I'm the boss around here!"

"But I already have two hands," Usagi replied, looking down at his hands. "Why would I need a third one?"

Genta blinked, and then broke out in a childish fit of chuckles which, since he was a child just like everyone else, was kind of the norm. "So you want to be the class clown already? All right by me!"

"Genta, be nice to the new student," Ayumi said in a whisper, which mollified the big kid immediately. "Hey," she said next, "Is your hair—"

"Quiet now children, you may ask the new student questions after the lesson is over," the teacher said crisply, eliciting a set of groans from everyone. Shinichi sighed as he proceeded to glance out of the window, doing his best to fake paying attention. If there was one thing that had gotten better was his school average, but having to start again from elementary school...well, that wasn't great at all.

By his side, Ai Haibara said nothing, a half-bored expression settled on her face. She had it worst than him when it came to rehashing stuff. He had never been a flawless student, but she had been quite the great doctor, and chemist, and having to retake this kind of stuff? It had to be a torture in its own right.

He turned his face to the side and then yelped as the new kid's face was an inch away from his, his crimson and bright red eyes shining with concentration and curiosity. "Conan! What are you—Usagi-kun? What are you doing?" the teacher asked, surprised at the source of the noise. Ai's eyes were wide too, because she probably hadn't seen him arrive. No, honestly, nobody had. One moment he was behind Genta, and the next he stood right by his side, staring at him.

"I like him!" Usagi replied cheerfully, smiling at the teacher, "Can I sit next to him, please?!" his eyes shone with the strength of a thousand innocent rabbits, and somehow, in some shape or form, the child really believed it would work. It didn't, and with a sulk he returned to his place.

"That was...strange," Shinichi whispered, only for Ai to furrow her brows, before smirking back at him.

"You caught another young child's heart, Conan," she said mellifluously, chuckling all the while. "What a thief of hearts you are."

"Don't laugh," Shinichi replied in a whisper. "There's something off about him."

"Overexcited kids will be kids," Ai muttered, carefully glancing at the blackboard. It was new words. Well, new words for the children. Thus another day of taking notes but holding one's head elsewhere.

Had Shinichi Kudo known that intelligence, cunning and wits would avail one to nothing against the might of magic wrought from Mana, then perhaps he would have cherished those moments.

Then again, it is not everyday you see a dragon loom outside the windows of the school building with eyes ablaze.

Once you remove the impossible, and the improbable, all that remains is, without a doubt...

...A carbon monoxide gas leak?

 

[shadenight123]

Chapter Eighty-Five (Zendikar)

I had to be subtle about this. I couldn't go in, Hive Fleets blazing, and hope for a successful victory. While control over the Hive was as instinctive as breathing, and my nature as a merged consciousness saved me the perils of getting eaten by the Slivers themselves, the problem was that my body was diminishing in powers quite rapidly. I had enhanced myself with the energies of the dimensional fissures, and with those gone, I was perhaps a good challenge, but one that could still be beaten if all of the Planeswalkers came together under one banner to face me.

I could manhandle one Planeswalker, perhaps two. Yet I was sure that by the third one, I'd be at a disadvantage. Of course, the other Planeswalkers didn't need to know that. To them, I was still an insurmountable, even if weakened, Tyrant. I no longer could feel the Hives scouring the Multiverse, and their mana was no longer flourishing within my frame, seeping through the cracks of a shattered Dominaria.

This meant that if I had genetically modified them right, the dispersed Hive Fleets would now be consolidating their holds upon the universes they had landed in, forming a new synaptic consciousness to guide them in my stead. Or the Dragon might have killed them all. I didn't know how many Hives I still had after the battle, perhaps none. Which, honestly, was perhaps for the best. There was plenty of space in one Universe without having to go for countless others.

As I landed quietly on the other side of Zendikar, I took the easiest route possible and flapped a pair of wings as my body became that of a nice, fluffy bird. Whoever claimed that I, Shade, was capable of only going around in a Sliver battle-form perhaps had never truly seen me during my best years. My childish youth with infinite powers was spent, after recovering most of my sanity and while still being crippled by an insatiable hunger, flying around and trying new, funny stuff. I was sure the kid would love to fly. I'd teach him that.

Well, more like, I'd teach him how to use magic of another kind, so he'd be able to fly eventually. Maybe I'd rearrange his genetic code a bit, just a tiny smudge, to make him capable of incredible feats. He'd thank me for that, I was sure of it. I'd pop right in front of him, widen my arms and say, all chipper-like, My beautiful baby boy! Hugs! And then, as a special gift, Superman-like endurance and flight! Aren't I your coolest dad? Other dads gift children money, but only I can give you the universe! A flock of birds of a different breed from my own began to squawk indignantly as I flew through their territory.

I glared at them for their arrogance in breaking me out of my daydreaming, and my beak widened a bit to show razor-sharp teeth. I crunched down on a couple of them, the rest of the flock soon dispersing away. My happy meal consumed, and yet lacking in a toy-gift, my eyes began to sparkle with the thought of bringing my kid to a Mac Donalds for the Happy Meal set. It was a rite of passage. Then, after the Happy Meal there was the cinema, and the cartoons, and the anime—would he like them? Would he not? Was he going to be a normie? I'd love him all the same even if he preferred to play football and soccer and wasn't a loner with a loner's soul.

What if he was an arrogant prideful jerk though? What if he was the school's bully? What was I supposed to do? Could I actually slap him if he went too far? Or was it the corner as punishment? Maybe send him to sleep without dinner? The tragedy! No, I couldn't do that. Well, it was the spray bottle like with Superbia then. Oh, and then I had to present him to the others! To all of them! I was sure Discordia would love him, and so would Anthrax. Well, Anthrax loved everyone. Isn't that right, Anthrax?

Anthrax, for his part, blissfully remained merged with my skin. He was at peace there, and so I left him to purr happily.

Superbia would be a great big brother. Queen would spoil the kid too, like a baby Sliver in his own right. He'd be cuddled, and huddled, and rubbed cheek-to-cheek like a squeaky cute plushy and—

A small drake came swooping down to have me as dinner. I roared with the strength of a thousand dragons, and the massive drake made a hasty backpedaling action while emptying his bladder.

So...where was I?

Oh, right, the hugs and the rubs and the—

Anthrax emitted a simple enough gurgling noise, and it was enough to alert me that we weren't alone any longer. There was a Planeswalker coming closer and closer with each passing second. I remained silent, flapping my wings as my bird-like eyes saw the arrival from far off in the distance of a great creature made of loose rocks and tree vines. It was an elemental, and judging by the luscious Green mana that empowered it, a Planeswalker quite familiar to my senses was guiding it.

Well, apologies Nissa Revane, but you aren't the person I'm looking for. On the other hand...you are tangentially related to the one I'm looking for.

Come now, Anthrax, do your thing.

Microscopic Slivers whirred to life as they descended like the finest of pollen over the elemental creature, slithering their way quietly closer to Nissa's clothes and sticking to them without doing her harm. She was patrolling for something, but whatever big threat they were facing now, it wasn't one I had engineered, and thus it wasn't one I cared about.

To think that in the original timeline everything had been her fault...

Well, no more. I had other concerns.

Anthrax's whispers soon reached my mind, delivering upon me the thoughts random and stray of the elf who seemed to have fallen victim to Rito's Harem-Protagonist Powers. I shuddered at the thought of those powers. Was there any depravity that Rito would not commit while slipping? If he dared harm my squishy-cheeked beautiful baby boy with his perversion, then I would crucify him on a pyre lit and surrounded by undead piranhas!

I was surprised when I found out whom he had gone with. Well, this was a pleasant change of pace. It had been a long, long while since I had last set foot in a realm like that one, but if I wanted to traverse the dimensional wall, then I needed both time and space.

It had once been as easy as breathing, and now here I was, feigning being a bird while gathering the Mana from this world's leylines, doing my best to keep a low profile.

Such a glorified end for the ruler of all Planeswalkers.

On the plus side, the rest of the Planeswalkers weren't having a happy time either judging by how much Nissa was grumbling about the difficulty of maneuvering her summoned creature.

I had expected resistance of sort, or a stroke of bad luck to stop me from achieving my intentions. Instead nothing happened.

I should have known.

It should have tipped me off.

The moment I appeared inside the house of Doctor Agasa, I knew things would take a turn for the worse.

"Bolas," I growled, my eyes narrow and my fingers clenched tightly.

"Student," Nicol Bolas replied, in a humanoid form that reeked of Lucifer in the form of a human, only the devil actually could pass off as a kind old lady more often than not, Bolas was terrifying even when human. He sat on a comfy-looking sofa with a small wooden table by his side. The television was on, ranting about a sudden fiery explosion that had brought misery to many a family due to the countless innocent deaths within an elementary school. The window's blinds were halfway down, casting shadows that made Nicol's eyes glow in the dark of an eerie golden light.

"Where. Is. He." I hissed out, sharp talons and armor-plates already bursting through the pores of my skin.

"None of that, if you'd please," Bolas spoke calmly, raising a teacup to his lips. "Neither of us is in any condition to do much, if not hasten our inevitable death. The difference being that you still possess, hidden somewhere, the Sparks of countless Planeswalkers. Yet you reek of weakness. Where is the power?"

"I saw a Doctor, and he decided he could use a hand in closing the Rifts," I replied, my nostrils flaring as I felt a smell that was both eagerly familiar and yet also hauntingly bittersweet. "He was here. He was here just a few seconds ago."

"He still is," Bolas answered easily enough. "Whether he keeps being that way or not, though, depends on a simple answer on your part." His eyes narrowed. "Do you know where the Doctor is, Student?"

"No," I whispered. "If you as much as hurt him—"

"He is unscathed," Bolas acquiesced. "His guardians, on the other hand, have escaped like the cravens they are. I find myself wondering about the truthfulness of your answer," he finished his tea and stood up. "I suppose...I will have my answer soon enough." He smiled, and then extended his fingers to his side, opening a portal of swirling energies. "Let me ask you this, oh wise Student of mine. If you fall in love with an illusion, and have a child, what happens when the illusion is cancelled? I see no reason to bother further with a creature of smoke that will soon no longer be able to as much as touch me. You have crafted your own misery, thus...bask in it."

"Where is my son!?" I roared as I launched myself forward, only for a massive claw to slam me back, push me through the wall of the house and straight into the street, dragging me down with a weight that I couldn't even lift.

Bolas didn't answer me. "You really are my greatest disappointment," he said without inflection, before disappearing through the portal without another word.

A door opened up quickly as a kid with white hair and crimson eyes stared straight at me, a glint of honest surprise on his face.

My arms didn't stop shaking, even as I knew, deep down, what had to be done.

There comes a time when all dreamers must wake...

...but I refuse to become the Tyrant once more!

 

[shadenight123]

Chapter Eighty-Six (????)

There was beauty in showing Freddie Mercury's last concert to a wide-eyed boy safely engulfed in my arms. There was something new, and electrifying, in explaining to him the wonders of two neutron stars colliding with one another in the vastness of space. His eyes were wide with the innocence of a child who knew no wrong, or perhaps believed in Santa Claus. It wouldn't be hard for me to craft a Santa Claus out of thin air, weakened as I was from the sealing of the Rifts, I could still do that.

No, there were a lot of things that I couldn't do any longer, but there was nothing stopping me from showing him the wonders of the universe, the glory that was the death of a sun, and the majesty of a newly born planet rippling with life that grew and stretched as far as the eye could see. Mountains were trekked, clouds were trudged. The depths of the ocean explored. I had seen them all already, but I gladly looked at them again.

A fluffy crimson-furred Sliver stood perched on my son's neck. "Bartimeus," I said offhandedly, and he turned to look at me, as if expecting to be told something. I had nothing to say. I merely wanted to taste the feeling of pronouncing his name. It had been his mother's choice, and she had gone with it, following some obscure naming convention passed down in her family. I had conceded. At least, that was what the memories were telling me. The memories hidden deep within his genetic code, slowly but surely coming unlocked as he spent time within the presence of the Slivers' synapses, the Psionic maelstrom of thoughts settling neatly within his cerebral cortex a piece at the time.

The Hive would soon join him. He would soon join the Hive. Together, we would be stronger than alone. My fingers passed through his hair, a grin on my face. "Do you want to try the best food there is to taste in the whole world?"

"Yeah!" he nodded, a smile on his face even as his eyelids began to drop. A yawn escaped his mouth, tiredness starting to claim him. It had been a great, busy day. It was obvious he'd be tired. The ground around us shifted as brick walls painted white rose, a perfect room coming into existence with the fluffiest of beds for him to rest in. He grumbled while rubbing his eyelids, trying to deny his tiredness. I simply lifted him up and plopped him into bed without a second of thought, taking a seat by the bedside.

"Then we'll go tomorrow," I said with a yawn of my own, soothing whispering Slivers carefully slithering inside the room, their tender murmurs bringing to sleep even the staunchest of hyperactive children, and to an already sleepy one, they simply made his sleep all the sweetest.

After giving him a light peck on the forehead, I left him there to catch his rest, gingerly closing the door of his room behind me as outside it trembling Slivers cast in dark, translucent materials stood with the sharpest blades and fiercest glares they could muster.

"Protect him while he sleeps," I whispered, and they obeyed, merging with the walls and disappearing from sight.

The Queen of the Slivers stood in wait, lurched over the most recent clutch of eggs with her usual look of nurturing love, tiny tendrils leaving her skin to prop the eggs around, fluffing the ground and making it soft and cozy.

Anthrax stood nearby, his form that of a mushy rock that sometimes quivered and shone with bright colors, making a light show for the recently born Slivers who gaped and awed with their beaks at the sights.

Discordia and Superbia are yet to return to the Hive.

The Queen's murmur softly spoke to the side of my head, and I nodded at that. "Superbia will be the trickiest to find," I acquiesced. "Discordia should answer to a psionic pulse, but it would broadcast our position." I passed a hand through my hair, then glanced up. "I'll do it. If that's your wish."

They are a part of me. We are all a part of the Whole. The Whole that is Us, the Slivers.

"And you miss them," I added with a chuckle.

What mother does not miss her children? Her large beak-like face dropped down to nuzzle a cracked egg, a tiny beak emerging from within with a soft, crooning sound. A large scythe-like limb dropped down nearby, so gently it didn't even disturb the nearby eggs. The newly born crawled upon the limb, and then was brought outside on the grass. There its chitin hardened, its armored crest grew strong, and its eyes began to shine with the knowledge that the Hive had to offer it.

Spikes and gems crew upon his carapace, the tendrils that composed his lower body morphing into humanoid-like legs, and as he stood up, he trudged away to join the others witnessing Anthrax' light show.

"Discordia headed for Zendikar of all places," I muttered as I gathered the knowledge she had shared with the hive, "But she wasn't there when I reached the plane, or I would have felt her. She must have been brought elsewhere."

She has the genetic potential of a future Queen. The queen spoke, and as she did, I grimaced.

"Which means that wherever she went, if she transformed, then I'd end up in a world at war against a new brood. Well, I reckon it always was her dream to rip, destroy and slaughter..." I tapped my chin. "I should be able to travel through dimensions, but..." I glanced at the newly built house, "I don't think it would be right to leave him behind. It might be dangerous to bring him along."

I can make him sleep until your return, as if not a day had gone by. The Queen said.

"He's been locked away for long enough. No, if he wakes, he wakes. Just show him around," I said. "It won't take long to recover Discordia. With the closure of the Rifts, the power of the Hive has been greatly reduced. She can't have gone that far...no, all things said, there are only a few worlds that could naturally connect to Zendikar." I began to think, my mind subtly shifting as the decisions that Discordia would take would, without a doubt, pass through specific lines of thought that the Hive knew. It was like installing a new operative system in a hard disk's partition.

Thinking like Discordia, there were a few places where someone like me could have gone without leaving a trace. One was Zendikar, trapped by the worthless and pathetic enemies of my greatness. The immediate second place would be, instead, the Helvault of—

"Sorin's not gonna be happy if he returns home," I mouthed as I shifted my line of thought back into my mind's partition, dozens of Slivers merging with my skin as their mana gathered into my frame, opening a path through the Blind Eternities, heading straight for the plane of Innistrad, in all of its glorious black mana abundance and gory death at the hands of maddened and cursed beings, with the people protect by patrolling angels and—

I arrived upon the plane just in time to feel the connection establish itself with the rampaging Slivers across the surface. Lacking a guide, they had gone into a frenzy. With my arrival, my will asserted itself upon them and forced a hasty retreat from whatever it was they were doing. The forest I had landed in was dark, of course, and gloomy.

Owls hooted and vultures flew, but amidst the Slivers that rushed across the landscapes to near me, I was still missing the presence of Discordia. Genetic memory worked in revealing to me the bits and pieces that I needed to string together what had happened, up until the point when Discordia had gone missing.

Sorin was the kind of guy I didn't really bother with. He did his stuff, I did mine, we never met more than once, and honestly out of everyone I had ever met with the Planeswalker's spark, he was the one who didn't give a damn about stuff, as long as he was left alone. It was like being a part of a democracy but never voting. That meant he was the perfect citizen for the political parties.

If Discordia had angered him with her thoughtless actions, then I was pretty much sure I'd find her in the Helvault. Getting her out would prove difficult, especially because of who else stood within.

Perhaps Sorin did have a solution to that conundrum, or maybe he hadn't locked her that deep.

My senses tingled as I stared at the flow of mana within the land, at the leylines that pulsed and yet seemed to stiffen beneath my scrutiny, as if alive and knowledgeable, as if knowing that someone was watching them and doing their best impression of appearing normal, unchanged, simple and calm.

They weren't. As the Slivers neared, I realized that the leylines were tainted. They were poisonous. That was why Discordia had failed. She had drank from the well and thought it water, but it felt, and looked, like the strongest of toxins. She hadn't had the time to deal with the destruction of the flesh of her brood, and had panicked as she always did whenever she was cornered. She had lashed out, cried out, and the flesh had melted off as pain had filled her world.

Just like it was slowly starting to fill mine, a Sliver emerging from the thick canopy of the forest's undergrowth with molten flesh and rotting muscles, shrieking loudly in ghastly wails, eyes burning with desire for raw flesh.

He stopped. He stopped at my unspoken command and twitched.

His flesh knitted and changed, the genetic structure of its body mutated beyond recognition by the poison of the mana that had seen its birth, by the defects within its egg, and from the moment of its birth till now it had remained as a painful, agonizing existence. Yet that mutation, that pain and agony that blinded it...was familiar.

It was the same pain and agony of the Slivers found within the Phyrexia of Zendikar. It was the same mutation, the same genetics, and upon this plane...Phyresis.

Phyresis had reached the plane of Innistrad.

Brought by who, and for what purpose, I could not know.

A flash of white skin entered my mind as the Sliver in front of me twitched, ravenously frothing from its mouth as my own commands to rearrange his genes and those that had seen its birth conflicted, the pain of having his bones rearranged, his muscles ripped and torn, his brain's pathways and synapses resettled...it was an agony that couldn't be described nor compared.

Yet I had to fix him. Once he was fixed, then his knowledge would pass on to the rest of his brood, and they would fix themselves. The Slivers would feed upon the poison and feel no different than if it were water. This was our strength. This was our pride.

We were Slivers.

Trapping us upon a plane of poisonous mana and Phyrexian enemies just made us stronger.

 

[shadenight123]

Chapter Eighty-Seven (Innistrad)

The Sliver had known pain since the moment it had fed upon the Mana. The synaptic connection with its broodmother had brought him agony, and he had preferred to sever himself rather than risk bringing more pain to the Queen. Unfortunately, that was a trick of the plague itself. Alone, the genetic code of a single Sliver could do nothing to prevent the pain, or the Phyresis' mutations.

Discordia had found herself alone, a broodmother with clutches of Slivers that did not listen her, and though they did so to protect her, she felt pain too and suffered from it until she was sealed away. White-winged angels had come to get her, dragging her maddened into the Helvault.

The newly healed Sliver shared his thoughts and his genes with the rest of the Hive, and as it did the poison of the Phyresis was filtered through the new organs born from its cells, and transformed into a harmless mass of dead skin and rust.

Purifying the leylines would require more than just a Sliver; it would require a Skep born for that express purpose. I felt my fingers twitch and ground my teeth. Once, I could have just thrown one out from my pockets after having crafted it in thin air. Now it felt like pulling out a teeth, or a rib. The ground itself answered my coaxing, rising slowly as Slivers began to spit out caustic acid from their mouths, carefully forming tunnels within.

The leylines nearby were grabbed with my metaphysical fingers of mana, dragged ferociously away from their position to interweave and intersect with the Skep itself. Black mana was abundant in this region, as was green. White mana had been drowned out, replaced with a sickening variant that Phyrexia would soon see extinguished. Yet it lingered on, and as Gem-eyed Slivers emerged from the pores of my skin and mutated, they filtered the mana, crafting it into a weave-like pattern that fed the Skep's walls.

The stone-like inner walls began to gleam the color of flesh, and then pulse as the temperature within increased. Red Mana burned brightly at the bottom of the tunnels, air vents began to emit steam and tendrils of tree-like roots dug deep into the ground. It was the birth of a Skep, rather than the summoning of one. Had we been near the sea, it would have been wondrous. We weren't, and I didn't wish to take a chance without an army of sorts.

Strong spindly limbs emerged from the Skep, a cluster of gems on the back of the Sliver which rose, taller than that which birthed it, branches and twigs of toxic poison formed most of its outer skin. It rose, taller than the trees. It rose and it hissed a long, deafening call.

And within seconds, the rampant Slivers that were coming towards me suffered no longer. Their flesh twitched, their genes rearranged themselves, and all over Innistrad what had been disorganized, disarrayed and pain-filled Slivers became the Hive.

And the Hive would have its revenge for the pain it had suffered.

The mournful lament of the skyscraper-sized Sliver echoed in the air, thrumming and chanting as spore-like sacs began to burst from its skin, releasing a patented version of fungi-like colonies, which spread over the trees and entered a symbiotic relationship with the bark itself.

Strong claws gripped on the forest's dirt as an armored Sliver emerged from a hole in the Skep, growling ferociously like a lion whose mane was made of steel, and whose eyes were golden with unspoken hunger. A brood of them followed the first, and my fingers pointed in the direction of the closest village, one of lumberjacks and hunters, one of fearful, corrupted men and women. One where steel glinted beneath the rotting flesh and buzzing noises were heard in the depths of their water-soaked cellars.

"Butcher them all," I growled as flames ignited within the Skep, agile snake-like Slivers emerged with fire in their veins, and within their mouths. "Burn all to the ground. Let the fires warn them of our arrival," I twitched my fingers and the Skep's leylines obeyed, humanoid-like and mist-covered Slivers coming out next, their forms and bodies altering themselves. "So that when they look to the East to see us, they will never realize the blades that strike them down from the West."

With a nod from them all, a nod that was unanimous and without questioning, they rushed forth with their own tasks and orders.

The mournful lament of the Sliver that stood taller than the trees themselves rose in pitch as a second one joined the first, and then began to walk on lumbering legs. I was expecting Sorin to make himself known by now. He should have had spells meant to warn him of another Planeswalker's presence on his plane. He had crafted angels, entire species of living beings and yet he hadn't put a simple alarm spell on his Plane? No. He had to be on his way, or indisposed.

Out of the two, I didn't know which worried me the most.

Hulking Slivers marched across the trees, carefully avoiding their destruction as they hit the border of the forest, and then went past it and into the human village. The people had woken, and though the sick and the wounded were barely capable of making due with the events, those already halfway compleated knew what was coming instinctively, and they screamed.

They screamed so loudly, it reverberated across the sky, all the way up to where a blood-soaked crimson moon stood.

"The Vampires must be out to hunt," I hummed. "But it's the day the hunter becomes the hunted, though Phyresis doesn't work on the dead..." I tapped my chin, closing my eyes as a thousand more opened up, scenes catching my interest as Sorin's manor was in front of my Slivers' eyes, abandoned and destroyed. Avacyn's symbol lay in ruin, and yet fresh blood had been spilled within the halls.

The Slivers moved quietly, ghost-like entities who feared nothing but to displease the will of the Hive. Beneath my feet, I could feel the pavement of the hall and smell the dust and the dried iron-like pungent odor of blood. Doors were open slowly, as if a breeze had come by. Then, something else caught my attention, miles away. Leathery wings now flapped on my back, the Helvault standing resolutely within a dark circle of dead earth below me. Soldiers of the cathedral of Thraben, young inquisitors and proud warriors, stood guard in shifts around it. There was a guardian, one that could unmake the Helvault, but I had no idea whom it was.

There was a shift in the air, and a spear of pure light struck the chest of one of my Slivers. The connection I felt to it was lost as it burned up in cinders, but its neighbors shrieked and dropped down quickly, a scrupulous guard having seen the flock high in the air—no, not a scrupulous guard, but an angel. It was no Avacyn, of that I was sure. The problem with the angel was that it had a flock by its side, and I only had three flying Slivers.

I made them retreat, though they did not go far even as I had them plunge down into the empty streets and split up. The angels pursued them relentlessly, even as I split the trio up. One died due to a surprisingly sturdy door it had tried to break through, another tried the sewer's entrance, but spells meant to keep them clear of foes ignited its skin into cinder. The third one hid inside a garbage can.

He was the one that survived.

I didn't want to destroy the Plane.

I didn't want to have Sorin angered at me, not if I could avoid it. The city of Thraben needed to be checked for Phyresis, of course, but that would have to wait until after the cleansing of the villages where the plague was more evident. Every infection of Phyresis had a source, and once the bodies of the villagers would be examined, and their souls ripped out of their bodies for interrogation, I'd know the truth.

The village burned brightly into the night, the view seen from my own eyes as beneath my feet burrowing Slivers crafted tunnels to lurk through during the day and during the night.

The White Mana's poisonous nature would infect the Angels first, I reckoned. It was subtle enough that it would take years for it to have effect, but I reckoned a couple had already begun to lose a few feathers, and had chalked it up to a simple enough early molt.

If you cough a bit, you don't really think it's the pulmonary black plague until the sores come out now, do you?

"There you are!" a voice spoke.

Three words, and I turned with a scythe-like limb replacing my hand.

I blinked.

He blinked in turn.

Slowly, I let my limb recede back into a human hand of sorts.

"How are you even here?" I asked.

Harry Potter shrugged, and pulled out a book from within one of his sleeves. It was a copy of The Great Adventures of Best-Father throughout the Multiverse. "We checked on the planes written inside and I left spells to be alerted if you'd ever pass through."

"And why would you do that?" I asked, eyes half-narrowed.

"He wanted to find you," Harry Potter remarked, and the next second a pair of armored gauntlets came cruising for my sides as a tear-filled face began to cry and sob uncontrollably against my chest.

"Fatheeerrrr!" Superbia shrieked with a child-like wail.

I sighed, a small smile settling on my lips.

I then gingerly returned the hug, patting Superbia's head all the while. "My son," I whispered. "I've missed you too."

Superbia's nostrils began to gush with blood.

I swear, I must have made a mistake somewhere in his genetic code.