Morphic Tide
Crazy Brainstormer, Munchkin and Wannabe Min-Maxer
- Location
- MI, USA
Whoniverse Vs Oldwalker... How many universes get exploded by this?
Knocking on Heaven's Door [MtG/Multicross/SI]
- Thread starter shadenight123
- Start date
- Crossover
Well, considering that Shade can leave the Plane and the Timelords can't? Just the one, if they don't fall into line.
Mockingly-Tricky
Ketchup Enthusiast
- Location
- Happy Funtime Candyland
Dr. Who vs Shadewalker!
LETS HAVE A DEATHBATTLE!
LETS HAVE A DEATHBATTLE!
Morphic Tide
Crazy Brainstormer, Munchkin and Wannabe Min-Maxer
- Location
- MI, USA
I said universes, not Planes. There's a nigh-infinite amount of universes in a Plane, due to the nigh-infinite amount of timelines. Then you have Planes with nigh-infinite actual universes, which each consist of nigh-infinite timelines.
nasuren
Stop! Coffee time!
Which in turn gives everyone a nigh-infinite headache trying to figure things out.
shadowace2400
Planeswalker Extraordinaire
- Location
- Texas
Which explains Bolas' willingness to halp
Chapter Fifty-Six (Doctor Who)
- Location
- https://discord.gg/z9tBvbh
Chapter Fifty-Six (Doctor Who)
Time is a turbulent ocean, filled with contradictions and strife. Though you submerge yourself in it, in the end it is only the light at the far end of the coast that may guide you. It is only that one event that remains fixed in time, that one instant that can never be changed. Anchor yourself to it, and from there onward, let time never be anything more than a simply dimension to trudge upon.
The Time Stream was already nothing more than a tattered mess of broken pieces, events happened even if they shouldn't, and those that should did not. The skies turned black during the day, and crystal during the night. The seas of red became landmasses of green, and the mountains toppled and grew into jungles. Gallifrey heroically withstood the continuous assault of the Daleks, and the Daleks incessantly battled without fear nor mercy the Time Lords.
In the midst of the two warring factions, a rift spread open right in the middle, giving pause to both as they wondered just on whose side the new weapon would be unleashed for. The answer was surprisingly simple.
Neither.
"Anthrax," I said as I appeared out of the rift, a small Skep in my hands as I played with it, throwing it in the air only to catch it nimbly. "Hunt." I threw the Skep, watching as it grew in size until it suddenly dwarfed the city of Arcadia, close to being ruined. Petals blossomed on the sand matted in blood as spores began to turn into mold at an alarming rate near the Skep's walls, while blood poured down thickly from the ghastly wails that echoed inside the countless tunnels and caverns.
It emerged next, and its thoughts were mine, and mine were its. It was one of the Apex, the Slivers I had crafted, engineered and created for a singular purpose. It held upon its biological imperatives, and held no morals that I would not imprint upon it, and no desires that I would not grant it. It was a child of mine, a creation made not out of love, or joy, but with the true cold rationale of someone seeking absolute annihilation of one's enemy, no matter the price to be paid.
All around him, tiny spore-like flakes of mold swam and moved nimbly, phasing in and out of existence like ethereal flakes of snow. The moment one touched a Dalek's armor, it didn't melt it as much as pass right through it, the inhuman shrieks of the Pepper Shaker soon reaching squeals beyond the ultrasonic as it died, horribly consumed only for his armor to rattle, and then burst as countless more Slivers the size of spores flew out quickly, spreading to new victims within seconds.
Anthrax had a singular, terrifying ability that it would share with the rest of the Hive when awake.
It could reduce a Sliver's size to a mono-cellular level, phasing them out of existence only to have them return into existence directly inside a living creature's body.
Though I watched rays of sizzling energy rush for me from the Daleks, they harmlessly impacted against a shield of unwavering energy. Anthrax's form was humanoid enough, if with a peculiarly characteristic of rotting, tumescent tumors covering his body, all connected by rampant mold and fungi overgrowing his every available inch of skin. His face was amorphous, at times human, and at times just a blob of jelly without characteristics. When it sought to let specific expressions known, it would light up its sacs all over his skin.
He was like a walking Christmas Tree made of deadly fungi and incredibly lethal bacteria. And though the Daleks could work against it, and the Time Lords could alter time to find a cure, all of the bacteria constantly evolved and changed, and if the diseases did not kill the living, then the microscopic Slivers would eat them from the inside out.
This world lacked both a Spark and a yet to awaken one too, but it was rife with war and strife. Such emotions could easily be gathered as energy, so who was I to renounce a free snack? Near me, the choked forms of Time Lords clutched their throats as their bodies shriveled into dark husks, my eyes glancing towards Anthrax' form, his tumors pulsing with green happy lights.
"Have you had pleasant dreams?" I asked, receiving thrilling yellow lights in reply. Anthrax wasn't that bad of a Sliver. All things considered, he was unique in his own special ways, and there could be no distaste for his form. If he wished for it, he could easily alter his genes and appearance to resemble the most beautiful of humans, be they male or female. He didn't care about it thought, and happily went about popping his sores to release toxic liquids that would drain life from the sand itself, turning it into radioactive sludge.
Anthrax had dreamed of discovering a new strain of common cold, one capable of reinforcing the muscles of a living being's body the right amount needed to sneeze one's lungs out in a single bout. I couldn't help but chuckle at his dream, extending a hand to rub his gelatinous head graciously.
He flared with bright pink lights, happy to be praised, and as I returned my attention to the ruins of the city of Arcadia, I sighed.
This was the twentieth Plane in which I assaulted Gallifrey. There were no signs of the Planeswalker version of the Doctor, or for what it mattered, there were no signs of any living being capable of ascending. I had visited twenty Planes, burst through their dimensions and time streams, and yet not once, from the beginning of Time to the End of it, had I found a single trace of the Doctor.
Well, if he didn't want to be found, I would be hard pressed to look for him into a Plane that held dimensions into it just as much as it did other worlds and time streams. Even though I had sent back to sleep most of the Hive Fleets, some I had left to prod through different Planes seeking a possible guilty party while at the same time gaining strength and power from the destruction of those Planes, swallowing worlds and suns without remorse nor care.
On the other hand, if the Doctor had actually become a Planeswalker then I didn't really need to find him.
He would be the one to come looking for me.
And when the thirty-fourth Plane fell, the Doctor appeared.
"Ah...I should have expected something like this," I remarked. "You are, after all, a singular existence."
One Planeswalker against Thirteen.
A Tyrant against Thirteen individuals, all of which singularly born with the sheer desire of protecting humankind and the rest of the species of the galaxy from the threatening monsters that lurked beyond time and space.
This was one the hornet nests that I had painstakingly avoided hitting for the large majority of my life.
Unfortunately, there comes a time where a Hive Tyrant must ask his Queen to hold his beer and watch him.
In that moment in which I felt the ripple, in that moment in which thirteen distinctive Sparks that yet were all the same appeared, in that brilliant instant of time...
My hearts skipped more than a few beats.
Time is a turbulent ocean, filled with contradictions and strife. Though you submerge yourself in it, in the end it is only the light at the far end of the coast that may guide you. It is only that one event that remains fixed in time, that one instant that can never be changed. Anchor yourself to it, and from there onward, let time never be anything more than a simply dimension to trudge upon.
The Time Stream was already nothing more than a tattered mess of broken pieces, events happened even if they shouldn't, and those that should did not. The skies turned black during the day, and crystal during the night. The seas of red became landmasses of green, and the mountains toppled and grew into jungles. Gallifrey heroically withstood the continuous assault of the Daleks, and the Daleks incessantly battled without fear nor mercy the Time Lords.
In the midst of the two warring factions, a rift spread open right in the middle, giving pause to both as they wondered just on whose side the new weapon would be unleashed for. The answer was surprisingly simple.
Neither.
"Anthrax," I said as I appeared out of the rift, a small Skep in my hands as I played with it, throwing it in the air only to catch it nimbly. "Hunt." I threw the Skep, watching as it grew in size until it suddenly dwarfed the city of Arcadia, close to being ruined. Petals blossomed on the sand matted in blood as spores began to turn into mold at an alarming rate near the Skep's walls, while blood poured down thickly from the ghastly wails that echoed inside the countless tunnels and caverns.
It emerged next, and its thoughts were mine, and mine were its. It was one of the Apex, the Slivers I had crafted, engineered and created for a singular purpose. It held upon its biological imperatives, and held no morals that I would not imprint upon it, and no desires that I would not grant it. It was a child of mine, a creation made not out of love, or joy, but with the true cold rationale of someone seeking absolute annihilation of one's enemy, no matter the price to be paid.
All around him, tiny spore-like flakes of mold swam and moved nimbly, phasing in and out of existence like ethereal flakes of snow. The moment one touched a Dalek's armor, it didn't melt it as much as pass right through it, the inhuman shrieks of the Pepper Shaker soon reaching squeals beyond the ultrasonic as it died, horribly consumed only for his armor to rattle, and then burst as countless more Slivers the size of spores flew out quickly, spreading to new victims within seconds.
Anthrax had a singular, terrifying ability that it would share with the rest of the Hive when awake.
It could reduce a Sliver's size to a mono-cellular level, phasing them out of existence only to have them return into existence directly inside a living creature's body.
Though I watched rays of sizzling energy rush for me from the Daleks, they harmlessly impacted against a shield of unwavering energy. Anthrax's form was humanoid enough, if with a peculiarly characteristic of rotting, tumescent tumors covering his body, all connected by rampant mold and fungi overgrowing his every available inch of skin. His face was amorphous, at times human, and at times just a blob of jelly without characteristics. When it sought to let specific expressions known, it would light up its sacs all over his skin.
He was like a walking Christmas Tree made of deadly fungi and incredibly lethal bacteria. And though the Daleks could work against it, and the Time Lords could alter time to find a cure, all of the bacteria constantly evolved and changed, and if the diseases did not kill the living, then the microscopic Slivers would eat them from the inside out.
This world lacked both a Spark and a yet to awaken one too, but it was rife with war and strife. Such emotions could easily be gathered as energy, so who was I to renounce a free snack? Near me, the choked forms of Time Lords clutched their throats as their bodies shriveled into dark husks, my eyes glancing towards Anthrax' form, his tumors pulsing with green happy lights.
"Have you had pleasant dreams?" I asked, receiving thrilling yellow lights in reply. Anthrax wasn't that bad of a Sliver. All things considered, he was unique in his own special ways, and there could be no distaste for his form. If he wished for it, he could easily alter his genes and appearance to resemble the most beautiful of humans, be they male or female. He didn't care about it thought, and happily went about popping his sores to release toxic liquids that would drain life from the sand itself, turning it into radioactive sludge.
Anthrax had dreamed of discovering a new strain of common cold, one capable of reinforcing the muscles of a living being's body the right amount needed to sneeze one's lungs out in a single bout. I couldn't help but chuckle at his dream, extending a hand to rub his gelatinous head graciously.
He flared with bright pink lights, happy to be praised, and as I returned my attention to the ruins of the city of Arcadia, I sighed.
This was the twentieth Plane in which I assaulted Gallifrey. There were no signs of the Planeswalker version of the Doctor, or for what it mattered, there were no signs of any living being capable of ascending. I had visited twenty Planes, burst through their dimensions and time streams, and yet not once, from the beginning of Time to the End of it, had I found a single trace of the Doctor.
Well, if he didn't want to be found, I would be hard pressed to look for him into a Plane that held dimensions into it just as much as it did other worlds and time streams. Even though I had sent back to sleep most of the Hive Fleets, some I had left to prod through different Planes seeking a possible guilty party while at the same time gaining strength and power from the destruction of those Planes, swallowing worlds and suns without remorse nor care.
On the other hand, if the Doctor had actually become a Planeswalker then I didn't really need to find him.
He would be the one to come looking for me.
And when the thirty-fourth Plane fell, the Doctor appeared.
"Ah...I should have expected something like this," I remarked. "You are, after all, a singular existence."
One Planeswalker against Thirteen.
A Tyrant against Thirteen individuals, all of which singularly born with the sheer desire of protecting humankind and the rest of the species of the galaxy from the threatening monsters that lurked beyond time and space.
This was one the hornet nests that I had painstakingly avoided hitting for the large majority of my life.
Unfortunately, there comes a time where a Hive Tyrant must ask his Queen to hold his beer and watch him.
In that moment in which I felt the ripple, in that moment in which thirteen distinctive Sparks that yet were all the same appeared, in that brilliant instant of time...
My hearts skipped more than a few beats.
Green's Poem on Slivers
- Location
- Space, the final frontier.
Did it not thrum a drum roll.
Like a baby doll.
Or ring a bell,
when the darkness of slivers fell.
Or was its just as you say a few beats,
that fell amongst your feats.
Amongst the chittering of your slivers hits,
and their slithering fits.
And oh so cute are their little mits.
Like a baby doll.
Or ring a bell,
when the darkness of slivers fell.
Or was its just as you say a few beats,
that fell amongst your feats.
Amongst the chittering of your slivers hits,
and their slithering fits.
And oh so cute are their little mits.
- Location
- England
"Meh, I can take him."
nasuren
Stop! Coffee time!
Thirteen versus one. Yup, Shade's got them vastly outnumbered.
shadowace2400
Planeswalker Extraordinaire
- Location
- Texas
He REALLY does though
Yeah, got to remember that Shade's a sliver and there's never just one sliver.
nasuren
Stop! Coffee time!
What? The Silvers are fighting too?
- Location
- My house
Shade is essentially a mobile hive for the Silvers. Where he goes Silvers go as well.
Backlash177
Certifiably Insane
- Location
- Australia
....Welp.
nasuren
Stop! Coffee time!
Dude, I'm trying to joke here.
Chapter Fifty-Seven (Doctor Who)
- Location
- https://discord.gg/z9tBvbh
Chapter Fifty-Seven (Doctor Who)
I stared at the thirteen copies of the same identity, if all different in some aspect or the other, yet keeping true to their core personalities. "Very well then," I said quite calmly, all things considered. "You have thirteen sonic screwdrivers. I have infinite Slivers."
"We have Time Paradoxes," the Eighth doctor said quite grimly.
"And we are all out of mercy," the War doctor added, his eyes narrow.
"It would appear your time ends here, stupid butcher," the First Doctor spoke, his voice strong even when compared to the frailness of his appearance. His eyes glanced past me, and to the ruins of the city of Arcadia, nothing more than a broken husk filled with pulsing tumors and poisonous spores and fungi.
"You won't run away," I said with a tight smile, "Which makes this easier, all things said. So, which of you fine gentlemen is responsible, or will one day be responsible, for the saving of one Planeswalker that should not have been saved?"
"That's kind of a silly thing to ask, don't you think?" the Eleventh Doctor said, "We're all us and us are all we," he added, turning thoughtful glances with the rest of the Doctors. "We're all more than capable of taking you on alone, aren't we?"
"Not really," I replied with a shrug. "You came to talk, and I want to talk. See, at the end of the day I can reverse everything that has happened to the Planes before this one and return everyone to their happy times trudging along their tracks, but at the same time, I can't just erase all of my actions without a very simple act from the lot of you. So, which of you fine gentlemen is responsible for altering the events of a battle between Planeswalkers?"
Silence stretched between us. The shivering masses of Slivers began to gather as Anthrax took a single step forward to place his body in front of mine, long purulent claws emerging from his infective skin. "I am not a Cybermen fleet, or a Dalek Emperor," I said. "If your main power is simply that of talking and running, and you aren't going to run, then all that remains for you is to talk or die." I thrust my right hand to the side, letting portals ripple and open, thoughts of the Hive Fleets that had been seeking the Doctors all over different Planes suddenly altering their paths to reach for us. "Severe my synaptic connection to the Hive, and they will merely rampage." I narrowed my eyes.
"Right, right," the Sixth Doctor said. "I could beat you into submission with my own charm, but I guess we can just have you replaced with someone else in the meantime," he made to lift his screwdriver, and the next instant he aptly lost said screwdriver to a whip-like talon which slammed into the object shattering it into pieces. "Hey now, that was uncalled for, you primitive!"
"I already do not like this place, or this time," the Ninth spoke, and his voice was sorrowful, "So let's get this done with quickly."
I raised an eyebrow as a blast of energy seemed to be simultaneously released by thirteen different spots all around us, the Tardis emitting some form of bizarre and strange techno-babble worthy field that overwhelmed the Synapses of the Slivers, implanting into them the order to go to sleep, to fitfully rest, to just close one's eyes and never wake up again.
Anthrax wobbled forward, his lights shining brightly as he took a few steps before falling down face first with a sort of wobbly blubber sound. I felt my eyelids grow heavy, only for the impulses to suddenly dull out and disappear, my eyes snapping open as, within seconds, the rest of the Slivers closest to me woke up in turn.
"Adaptation faster than expected to the modular frequency of the Tardis, oh good grief," the Third Doctor spoke, "Well, when it comes to this, I guess we should have known not to skim around the corners."
"Which is why I told you we should have brought the Device," the War Doctor growled.
"Are we now going to engage in pleasantries and scones?" I remarked dryly, "Because if that is not the case, allow me to try my own hand now," and with that said, I roared as Scythe-like limbs tore through the space between us nimbly, slicing through cloth and skin with surprising finesse and precision. Even so, I hit nothing but a holographic form of the thirteen doctors, not one of them actually present in the flesh. Even the feeling of a Spark had been flawlessly replicated. Behind me, the portals I had opened to allow the Hives to pass through sealed abruptly shut, the Slivers raising their head crests in near unison as they scattered at my command, just in case for a retribution of sorts to happen near me.
My eyes narrowed as I stared at the broken mannequin-like forms all around me. I took a few deep breaths, and then watched as a tendril of Slivers rushed to leave the atmosphere, only to find a powerful force-field blocking their exit. I quite calmly realized that for perhaps the first time in my very, very long career, someone else had trapped me. Thirteen police boxes were making slow passes over Gallifrey's world, locking me inside.
I scoffed. Even with thirteen Tardis spinning around this world, they wouldn't be able to hold me back for long.
Accessing your Inner Plane to recover a Spark would leave you vulnerable to an outside force, Student. Remember that all acts are but a play meant for a purpose.
The whisper came upon the harsh winds of Gallifrey as I stopped the motion of my left hand from recovering a Spark and igniting it in a devastating Soul Bomb. I halted, and then I looked at Anthrax, who waited patiently for any new commands. His body lit with multiple lights of confusion, of happiness, of worry and of doubt. Then, as a new Spark made itself known to my senses from afar, he shone as the sudden dawning realization burst through me, and thus, into every single other Sliver.
I had a giggle in the back of my throat now, a giggle that made me happy, happier than I had ever been in a long, long while.
"Oh Freyalise, my darling Freyalise," I sang joyfully as I closed my eyes and opened my arms. "We both know you've been had, my little half-elf, my darling who thinks she can command the Slivers better than I, the Tyrant. Come on out, Freyalise, come on out!" I laughed as the winds began to churn and twist. I slammed both of my hands together as they deformed into scythes, two more limbs spreading open as the tendrils of Slivers kept pummeling the shield of this planet, giving the force-field no rest. Silence met my laughter for a while, the time it took for a woman to take a deep breath and sound a horn, a horn of war that belonged to the vorrac. Amidst the growing winds and the red sands of Gallifrey, a figure cloaked in green made her appearance from the nearest hill.
Her skin was crimson as the sands of Gallifrey, but it swiftly changed in color just as easily as countless petals came from beyond the hill towards my ranks of Slivers.
Bright pink pollen danced in the air and filled it up, my nose twitching as I sneezed fiery caustic mucus and my eyes burned something fierce. I would have rubbed them, had I not already begun to alter my eyelids to moisten them up and force the pollen out through reinforced tear ducts.
Near me, the Slivers that had begun to gather and evolve into Primes from their Thrum status sneezed and coughed, some of them going as far as falling down on their knees.
In that moment, Freyalise struck with fire magic. Gusts of fire scorched through fissures on the ground as Elves of Fyndhorn broke out of whatever hiding place they had been in, their magic forming vines to ensnare the Slivers on the ground, and thorns that punctured the lungs or the wings of the ones flying. Llanowar elves came to the fray from behind the hills, or from below the sands, rushing for the closest Slivers they could reach, piercing through them with their three-pronged staves as they passed by the beheaded creatures with barely a glance.
Those with swords muttered enchantments as they pushed through the ranks of the weakened Slivers, the majority of the Hives still having to wake up. No, it was because energies were being diverted into waking up the rest of the Slivers that there wasn't enough strength to reinforce with Mana those that were being slaughtered.
Anthrax fumbled to stand, only for five elves to swiftly pierce his body in quick succession with their spears, the pronged blades digging deep holes into his soft skin and spraying the surroundings with deadly mucus and Sliver spores.
Even though the elves were advancing, they were also dying. Though flags made of green and white leafs flapped to the wind as the vanguards pushed through the sides and the back, though the sleeping Slivers were being slaughtered to the last before they could as much as open their eyes, the sole reason not enough Elves were dying was because they lasted as long as it took for them to take a breath.
The moment they breathed in the air filled with the Slivers' microscopic presence, even though most of them had fallen asleep in turn, they would stop rushing forth, die, and burst apart to reveal more Slivers. It was a self-propagating plague that wouldn't stop until the last vestiges of flesh had been consumed in the name of the Hive.
Freyalise's next blast of fire came as a circular column centered on me, my body slithering past the intended target as my limbs began to cut through the elves, ripping their bodies apart in halves or quarters, thorns breaking free from my skin as whip-like talons swished in different directions, my body twisting to increase my momentum. A few massive horned beasts rushed for my sides, howling as they dragged my body against the grounds of Gallifrey and straight into the sides of a building of Arcadia, which crumbled over us to pin us down.
I emerged, not unscathed, but rapidly regenerating, as I shrieked loud enough to wake the very dead from their tombs. I pushed myself free of the dying beasts, bone-like protrusions having broken their skulls as I angrily threw one into an upcoming squadron of armored knight-elves, the crunch of their armors hiding the breaking of their bones as I pushed myself towards the flag-bearers who were leading the elvish forces through the defenseless Slivers that were still sleeping.
From the corner of my eyes, I saw the microscopic clouds of Slivers born of Anthrax' fungi gather around his still corpse, and with a jolt they sacrificed their lives to renew his, bringing him back up on his wobbling form.
He howled and screamed, rupturing his skin and tumors as the spears that held him back shattered, his eyes burning with fury as he launched himself on the closest elves, breaking through their formations as the blows of swords and spears this time merely glanced off the enhanced toughness of his skin.
Freyalise knew that evolution and adaptation were the keys to the Slivers' might. It was for that reason that she did not waste time in conjuring forth a large ensemble of rambles and thorns to block Anthrax's movements, before lighting it on fire to prevent more spores from being born out of his broken body.
I rushed towards the pyre with my scythe-limb extended, passing right by its side to slice in half both thorns, brambles and Anthrax's body too. The burning upper half rolled on my back as talons grabbed hold of it, before throwing it towards another gathering of elves, where it exploded to reveal a revitalized and renewed Apex. Meanwhile, my charge began to bring me towards the top of the cliff, where Freyalise was governing the battlefield with her magic.
My eyes met her lonely one, and she smiled the smile of a triumphant winner as countless arrows descended from the sky to pin down every single cell within my body, for beyond the hill, the archers among the Elvish tribes stood in wait for just that moment in order to keep me still. Trees also lost themselves to the sight, going as far as the naked eye could see to the horizon and beyond. The lushness of Green Mana was...breathtaking.
"Now, Tyrant," her right hand glowed with Red Mana, while her left burned with Green, "It is time to lose your crown!" and as she screamed and pushed both of her hands forward to aim at my chest, spikes broke free against her, the repeated thumping of a machine-gun like weapon hastily crafted from the muscles and bones of my whole body to emit its output right in front of her.
Each inch of a Sliver's skin is merely a new talon, a new fang, or a new weapon. Sharp spikes made of chitin and bone hadn't pierced through the protective magic that surrounded Freyalise's body, but her single eye glowed as she was forced to expend the gathered mana to defend herself, screaming in rage as the more time passed, the more the tide turned.
"You won't have another chance," I snarled as my eyes burned with anger, the arrows shattering as the bones and muscles reflexively began to spew out acid, melting them out of my joints and tissues. "Die, Freyalise!"
The moment I came lunging for her, she sidestepped me with finesse and grace, using my own strength to send my body to fly down the opposite side of the hill and into the awaiting blades of the elves of Timberwatch, if their black mantles and cloaks were any indication. Unfortunately for her, my prehensile tail snaked around her midriff and sent her to fly right alongside me, the muscles clenching around her spine until a painful heat made me scream in a mixture of shock, pain, and disbelief.
She had cut my tail.
The bitch had cut down my magnificent tail!
That frigging long-eared bitch had cut down my beautiful tail with her filthy magic and left me to regenerate it.
I...
All right, bitch. All right.
I howled in anger, thumping my limbs against my chest to rhythm as the ground quaked in answer. The elves around me already took the initiative to strike, their blades forged from powerful magic to slice through my hide and skin, at least until they reached a certain point where they abruptly stopped, and instead were repelled back by something far tougher than simple bone and tissue.
A blast of Black Mana washed through the ground as the trees nearby began to wither, the elves closer to me covering their eyes as they screamed, their skin starting to rot right off their bones. Whips made of bones broke through my arms as they began to burn with the flames of a scorching inferno, even as a sphere of red and black mana gathered over my head, where horns similar to those of Nicol had appeared.
I widened my three pair of wings, my body morphing soon after to resemble the Elder Dragon himself, if at quite the diminished size.
My maws opened to unleash flames hot and cursed, burning a path through the formations of archers as I rushed deep into their forest, the flames rising high as the winds gathered beneath my wingspans to fan them as I took to the skies. Arrows and rattling trees broke free, the latter rising from the ground with their branches to hold me down, or at least try.
Elves riding large green beasts rushed upon the branches, their mounts jumping further than the trees' grasps, lassos of silver thread twirling in the air to grip at any extremity they could find in order to slow me down from my ascension.
I screamed as I gazed at the stars beyond the force field, and then I caught my breath for one had just disappeared.
In a split second, a column of light descended from beyond the outer rims of space, shattering through two Tardis and sending them out of sync with the others. The blast was accompanied by a blinding light, which descended into a meteor shower upon the planet of Gallifrey as new synaptic links established themselves with far more strength than before. Even as I began to descend, a thickly armored knight-like figure descended upon feathered wings, jet-like engines behind his back propelling him forward as his halberd struck down the Elven riders by my side, granting me enough space of maneuver to land limbs first on the forest's floor, crushing a few unlucky elves under my weight.
"You curs!" the knight bellowed as he raised his halberd high, his helmet snapping open to reveal a humanoid face with golden, cat-like eyes if with a forehead crested with the ridges of a Sliver. "You dare bully my father!? The only sentence is death! Absolute Death!"
His wings burst aflame, crystals enveloping his armor of brilliant colors as he twirled his halberd with the grace of a master. "Father! Me being late is inexcusable! Though I most definitely made haste to come here as swiftly as possible, not possessing father's great skills and absolute stunning looks, I am ashamed to admit I had to ask mother for help and we expended some of those energy crystals you were keeping stored away right for these occasions! Father, please punish me roughly afterwards! In the meantime, I have-"
I groaned, looking only relieved by the absolutely stunned look of Freyalise, who was trying to wonder what the hell was going on right in that moment. Her knowledge of the Hive and the mechanisms of it had apparently met a wall, a knight-like wall of a giddy-looking, halberd-wielding Human-Sliver hybrid of sorts. Needless to say, her brief moment of pause cost her the momentum she had so painstakingly tried to maintain.
"Father! I am happy you are happy at my sight! It has indeed been so long since we last met each other! My inferiority and my inability to exchange speech with you through the highly prized means of synaptic conversation notwithstanding, I am eager to restart our long conversations on the meanings of Chuuni, Absolutes and Extermination! Yes! I will now proceed to Exterminate our foes! Then, we will bath in their blood while evoking the ancient demons from hell to torment their souls infinitely! Come father, witness me! Witness me as I wet myself in the blood of our enemies!" and as he sang that joyously, my most worrisome Apex joined the fray by butchering Elves with his halberd, killing them by the score while happily singing the Glory of the Hive, a song he invented on the spot.
The Angelic Slivers that had accompanied him into making planet-fall spread their wings to bring life back to the dead Slivers, and soon the tides turned sharply in the Slivers' favor, much to Freyalise's growing anger at the knight-like savior of the Tyrant.
I had called him Superbia the moment he had emerged from his egg, tenderly lifting his lonely talon as a simple Thrum. How he had decided to build himself a bulky body and armor made no sense to me, but while his features would have made him easily mistakable as a male humanoid somehow, out of all the things he could have liked to pick out of my brain, out of all the things he could have taken, he decided he liked to speak in a falsetto and take upon all of the most impossible of Chuuni-like behaviors.
Anthrax actually slithered his way towards me, his body largely regrown.
"Anthrax," I whispered, "Don't let Superbia know, but I am honestly glad he came."
Anthrax lit up with the pink colors of happiness and pride in his brother's achievements which brought glory to the Hive, and as he began to happily thrill in order to help me restore my spent energies, a blast of wind sent him to fly through a dozen of trees, splattering his body across countless tree trunks as if he were made of jelly, rather than flesh.
I winced.
"That was one of my Apex you just roughed up, Freyalise!" I snarled next, turning to glare at the half-elf Planeswalker, whose skin changed in color not just with her mood, but also by her will.
"Cry me a river, butcher of Skyshroud!" Freyalise retorted, her skin the color of bright fire.
I smiled, and then stood at the ready with my limbs extended and my whole body trembling in excitement. My fangs grew sharper, and my muscles tightened and regenerated. Hive Fleets poured out from cracks and rifts in the sky over us, and blood curling screams of the dying sang like a symphony to my ears.
"Run away, Freyalise," I said. "You may have lived four thousand years and counting, but even so...today you have lost your chance."
"The Tyrant being merciful?" Freyalise raised an eyebrow. "You will simply stab me in the back when I turn."
"You are but a tool used to cast me down," I acquiesced. "I understood that the moment I felt your presence. The Hives have woken, and now they will feast. Leave, or be devoured. You should know how we think, you who tried to rule over Us and failed."
"You'll follow my tracks back to the Plane where I live," Freyalise spoke harshly, "And then kill everyone there."
"I have outgrown the need to bring your elves to justice for their detestable sport of hunting humans. Go, and I will not pursue you. Stall, and you will be eaten, because I will not defend you...and why would I refuse my children meat, when it comes pint-sized towards them?" I smiled smugly as Freyalise's skin flushed red with anger.
Primes landed on the grounds near us, their sharp tentacles shattering the armors of the Elves nearby, some slicing through them with blades as Mana pulsed across their frames, their eyes burning with hatred as they rushed forward in flawless formations, overtaking the enemy's squads with brutality where technique and experience wouldn't cut it.
"We will meet again, Tyrant," Freyalise barked out, disappearing in a flash of green flames.
"I'm counting on it, Freyalise," I whispered back, my right hand gingerly extending to where a small cloud of Sliver-spores stood in wait. A piece of Anthrax by my feet blushed bright white in smug pride, and as I grabbed hold of it and hugged it to my chest, I began to giggle, and then laugh.
Go right ahead, Freyalise.
Go wherever you wish to be.
The Phyrexians might have their oil...
...but we have our own means of infection.
I stared at the thirteen copies of the same identity, if all different in some aspect or the other, yet keeping true to their core personalities. "Very well then," I said quite calmly, all things considered. "You have thirteen sonic screwdrivers. I have infinite Slivers."
"We have Time Paradoxes," the Eighth doctor said quite grimly.
"And we are all out of mercy," the War doctor added, his eyes narrow.
"It would appear your time ends here, stupid butcher," the First Doctor spoke, his voice strong even when compared to the frailness of his appearance. His eyes glanced past me, and to the ruins of the city of Arcadia, nothing more than a broken husk filled with pulsing tumors and poisonous spores and fungi.
"You won't run away," I said with a tight smile, "Which makes this easier, all things said. So, which of you fine gentlemen is responsible, or will one day be responsible, for the saving of one Planeswalker that should not have been saved?"
"That's kind of a silly thing to ask, don't you think?" the Eleventh Doctor said, "We're all us and us are all we," he added, turning thoughtful glances with the rest of the Doctors. "We're all more than capable of taking you on alone, aren't we?"
"Not really," I replied with a shrug. "You came to talk, and I want to talk. See, at the end of the day I can reverse everything that has happened to the Planes before this one and return everyone to their happy times trudging along their tracks, but at the same time, I can't just erase all of my actions without a very simple act from the lot of you. So, which of you fine gentlemen is responsible for altering the events of a battle between Planeswalkers?"
Silence stretched between us. The shivering masses of Slivers began to gather as Anthrax took a single step forward to place his body in front of mine, long purulent claws emerging from his infective skin. "I am not a Cybermen fleet, or a Dalek Emperor," I said. "If your main power is simply that of talking and running, and you aren't going to run, then all that remains for you is to talk or die." I thrust my right hand to the side, letting portals ripple and open, thoughts of the Hive Fleets that had been seeking the Doctors all over different Planes suddenly altering their paths to reach for us. "Severe my synaptic connection to the Hive, and they will merely rampage." I narrowed my eyes.
"Right, right," the Sixth Doctor said. "I could beat you into submission with my own charm, but I guess we can just have you replaced with someone else in the meantime," he made to lift his screwdriver, and the next instant he aptly lost said screwdriver to a whip-like talon which slammed into the object shattering it into pieces. "Hey now, that was uncalled for, you primitive!"
"I already do not like this place, or this time," the Ninth spoke, and his voice was sorrowful, "So let's get this done with quickly."
I raised an eyebrow as a blast of energy seemed to be simultaneously released by thirteen different spots all around us, the Tardis emitting some form of bizarre and strange techno-babble worthy field that overwhelmed the Synapses of the Slivers, implanting into them the order to go to sleep, to fitfully rest, to just close one's eyes and never wake up again.
Anthrax wobbled forward, his lights shining brightly as he took a few steps before falling down face first with a sort of wobbly blubber sound. I felt my eyelids grow heavy, only for the impulses to suddenly dull out and disappear, my eyes snapping open as, within seconds, the rest of the Slivers closest to me woke up in turn.
"Adaptation faster than expected to the modular frequency of the Tardis, oh good grief," the Third Doctor spoke, "Well, when it comes to this, I guess we should have known not to skim around the corners."
"Which is why I told you we should have brought the Device," the War Doctor growled.
"Are we now going to engage in pleasantries and scones?" I remarked dryly, "Because if that is not the case, allow me to try my own hand now," and with that said, I roared as Scythe-like limbs tore through the space between us nimbly, slicing through cloth and skin with surprising finesse and precision. Even so, I hit nothing but a holographic form of the thirteen doctors, not one of them actually present in the flesh. Even the feeling of a Spark had been flawlessly replicated. Behind me, the portals I had opened to allow the Hives to pass through sealed abruptly shut, the Slivers raising their head crests in near unison as they scattered at my command, just in case for a retribution of sorts to happen near me.
My eyes narrowed as I stared at the broken mannequin-like forms all around me. I took a few deep breaths, and then watched as a tendril of Slivers rushed to leave the atmosphere, only to find a powerful force-field blocking their exit. I quite calmly realized that for perhaps the first time in my very, very long career, someone else had trapped me. Thirteen police boxes were making slow passes over Gallifrey's world, locking me inside.
I scoffed. Even with thirteen Tardis spinning around this world, they wouldn't be able to hold me back for long.
Accessing your Inner Plane to recover a Spark would leave you vulnerable to an outside force, Student. Remember that all acts are but a play meant for a purpose.
The whisper came upon the harsh winds of Gallifrey as I stopped the motion of my left hand from recovering a Spark and igniting it in a devastating Soul Bomb. I halted, and then I looked at Anthrax, who waited patiently for any new commands. His body lit with multiple lights of confusion, of happiness, of worry and of doubt. Then, as a new Spark made itself known to my senses from afar, he shone as the sudden dawning realization burst through me, and thus, into every single other Sliver.
I had a giggle in the back of my throat now, a giggle that made me happy, happier than I had ever been in a long, long while.
"Oh Freyalise, my darling Freyalise," I sang joyfully as I closed my eyes and opened my arms. "We both know you've been had, my little half-elf, my darling who thinks she can command the Slivers better than I, the Tyrant. Come on out, Freyalise, come on out!" I laughed as the winds began to churn and twist. I slammed both of my hands together as they deformed into scythes, two more limbs spreading open as the tendrils of Slivers kept pummeling the shield of this planet, giving the force-field no rest. Silence met my laughter for a while, the time it took for a woman to take a deep breath and sound a horn, a horn of war that belonged to the vorrac. Amidst the growing winds and the red sands of Gallifrey, a figure cloaked in green made her appearance from the nearest hill.
Her skin was crimson as the sands of Gallifrey, but it swiftly changed in color just as easily as countless petals came from beyond the hill towards my ranks of Slivers.
Bright pink pollen danced in the air and filled it up, my nose twitching as I sneezed fiery caustic mucus and my eyes burned something fierce. I would have rubbed them, had I not already begun to alter my eyelids to moisten them up and force the pollen out through reinforced tear ducts.
Near me, the Slivers that had begun to gather and evolve into Primes from their Thrum status sneezed and coughed, some of them going as far as falling down on their knees.
In that moment, Freyalise struck with fire magic. Gusts of fire scorched through fissures on the ground as Elves of Fyndhorn broke out of whatever hiding place they had been in, their magic forming vines to ensnare the Slivers on the ground, and thorns that punctured the lungs or the wings of the ones flying. Llanowar elves came to the fray from behind the hills, or from below the sands, rushing for the closest Slivers they could reach, piercing through them with their three-pronged staves as they passed by the beheaded creatures with barely a glance.
Those with swords muttered enchantments as they pushed through the ranks of the weakened Slivers, the majority of the Hives still having to wake up. No, it was because energies were being diverted into waking up the rest of the Slivers that there wasn't enough strength to reinforce with Mana those that were being slaughtered.
Anthrax fumbled to stand, only for five elves to swiftly pierce his body in quick succession with their spears, the pronged blades digging deep holes into his soft skin and spraying the surroundings with deadly mucus and Sliver spores.
Even though the elves were advancing, they were also dying. Though flags made of green and white leafs flapped to the wind as the vanguards pushed through the sides and the back, though the sleeping Slivers were being slaughtered to the last before they could as much as open their eyes, the sole reason not enough Elves were dying was because they lasted as long as it took for them to take a breath.
The moment they breathed in the air filled with the Slivers' microscopic presence, even though most of them had fallen asleep in turn, they would stop rushing forth, die, and burst apart to reveal more Slivers. It was a self-propagating plague that wouldn't stop until the last vestiges of flesh had been consumed in the name of the Hive.
Freyalise's next blast of fire came as a circular column centered on me, my body slithering past the intended target as my limbs began to cut through the elves, ripping their bodies apart in halves or quarters, thorns breaking free from my skin as whip-like talons swished in different directions, my body twisting to increase my momentum. A few massive horned beasts rushed for my sides, howling as they dragged my body against the grounds of Gallifrey and straight into the sides of a building of Arcadia, which crumbled over us to pin us down.
I emerged, not unscathed, but rapidly regenerating, as I shrieked loud enough to wake the very dead from their tombs. I pushed myself free of the dying beasts, bone-like protrusions having broken their skulls as I angrily threw one into an upcoming squadron of armored knight-elves, the crunch of their armors hiding the breaking of their bones as I pushed myself towards the flag-bearers who were leading the elvish forces through the defenseless Slivers that were still sleeping.
From the corner of my eyes, I saw the microscopic clouds of Slivers born of Anthrax' fungi gather around his still corpse, and with a jolt they sacrificed their lives to renew his, bringing him back up on his wobbling form.
He howled and screamed, rupturing his skin and tumors as the spears that held him back shattered, his eyes burning with fury as he launched himself on the closest elves, breaking through their formations as the blows of swords and spears this time merely glanced off the enhanced toughness of his skin.
Freyalise knew that evolution and adaptation were the keys to the Slivers' might. It was for that reason that she did not waste time in conjuring forth a large ensemble of rambles and thorns to block Anthrax's movements, before lighting it on fire to prevent more spores from being born out of his broken body.
I rushed towards the pyre with my scythe-limb extended, passing right by its side to slice in half both thorns, brambles and Anthrax's body too. The burning upper half rolled on my back as talons grabbed hold of it, before throwing it towards another gathering of elves, where it exploded to reveal a revitalized and renewed Apex. Meanwhile, my charge began to bring me towards the top of the cliff, where Freyalise was governing the battlefield with her magic.
My eyes met her lonely one, and she smiled the smile of a triumphant winner as countless arrows descended from the sky to pin down every single cell within my body, for beyond the hill, the archers among the Elvish tribes stood in wait for just that moment in order to keep me still. Trees also lost themselves to the sight, going as far as the naked eye could see to the horizon and beyond. The lushness of Green Mana was...breathtaking.
"Now, Tyrant," her right hand glowed with Red Mana, while her left burned with Green, "It is time to lose your crown!" and as she screamed and pushed both of her hands forward to aim at my chest, spikes broke free against her, the repeated thumping of a machine-gun like weapon hastily crafted from the muscles and bones of my whole body to emit its output right in front of her.
Each inch of a Sliver's skin is merely a new talon, a new fang, or a new weapon. Sharp spikes made of chitin and bone hadn't pierced through the protective magic that surrounded Freyalise's body, but her single eye glowed as she was forced to expend the gathered mana to defend herself, screaming in rage as the more time passed, the more the tide turned.
"You won't have another chance," I snarled as my eyes burned with anger, the arrows shattering as the bones and muscles reflexively began to spew out acid, melting them out of my joints and tissues. "Die, Freyalise!"
The moment I came lunging for her, she sidestepped me with finesse and grace, using my own strength to send my body to fly down the opposite side of the hill and into the awaiting blades of the elves of Timberwatch, if their black mantles and cloaks were any indication. Unfortunately for her, my prehensile tail snaked around her midriff and sent her to fly right alongside me, the muscles clenching around her spine until a painful heat made me scream in a mixture of shock, pain, and disbelief.
She had cut my tail.
The bitch had cut down my magnificent tail!
That frigging long-eared bitch had cut down my beautiful tail with her filthy magic and left me to regenerate it.
I...
All right, bitch. All right.
I howled in anger, thumping my limbs against my chest to rhythm as the ground quaked in answer. The elves around me already took the initiative to strike, their blades forged from powerful magic to slice through my hide and skin, at least until they reached a certain point where they abruptly stopped, and instead were repelled back by something far tougher than simple bone and tissue.
A blast of Black Mana washed through the ground as the trees nearby began to wither, the elves closer to me covering their eyes as they screamed, their skin starting to rot right off their bones. Whips made of bones broke through my arms as they began to burn with the flames of a scorching inferno, even as a sphere of red and black mana gathered over my head, where horns similar to those of Nicol had appeared.
I widened my three pair of wings, my body morphing soon after to resemble the Elder Dragon himself, if at quite the diminished size.
My maws opened to unleash flames hot and cursed, burning a path through the formations of archers as I rushed deep into their forest, the flames rising high as the winds gathered beneath my wingspans to fan them as I took to the skies. Arrows and rattling trees broke free, the latter rising from the ground with their branches to hold me down, or at least try.
Elves riding large green beasts rushed upon the branches, their mounts jumping further than the trees' grasps, lassos of silver thread twirling in the air to grip at any extremity they could find in order to slow me down from my ascension.
I screamed as I gazed at the stars beyond the force field, and then I caught my breath for one had just disappeared.
In a split second, a column of light descended from beyond the outer rims of space, shattering through two Tardis and sending them out of sync with the others. The blast was accompanied by a blinding light, which descended into a meteor shower upon the planet of Gallifrey as new synaptic links established themselves with far more strength than before. Even as I began to descend, a thickly armored knight-like figure descended upon feathered wings, jet-like engines behind his back propelling him forward as his halberd struck down the Elven riders by my side, granting me enough space of maneuver to land limbs first on the forest's floor, crushing a few unlucky elves under my weight.
"You curs!" the knight bellowed as he raised his halberd high, his helmet snapping open to reveal a humanoid face with golden, cat-like eyes if with a forehead crested with the ridges of a Sliver. "You dare bully my father!? The only sentence is death! Absolute Death!"
His wings burst aflame, crystals enveloping his armor of brilliant colors as he twirled his halberd with the grace of a master. "Father! Me being late is inexcusable! Though I most definitely made haste to come here as swiftly as possible, not possessing father's great skills and absolute stunning looks, I am ashamed to admit I had to ask mother for help and we expended some of those energy crystals you were keeping stored away right for these occasions! Father, please punish me roughly afterwards! In the meantime, I have-"
I groaned, looking only relieved by the absolutely stunned look of Freyalise, who was trying to wonder what the hell was going on right in that moment. Her knowledge of the Hive and the mechanisms of it had apparently met a wall, a knight-like wall of a giddy-looking, halberd-wielding Human-Sliver hybrid of sorts. Needless to say, her brief moment of pause cost her the momentum she had so painstakingly tried to maintain.
"Father! I am happy you are happy at my sight! It has indeed been so long since we last met each other! My inferiority and my inability to exchange speech with you through the highly prized means of synaptic conversation notwithstanding, I am eager to restart our long conversations on the meanings of Chuuni, Absolutes and Extermination! Yes! I will now proceed to Exterminate our foes! Then, we will bath in their blood while evoking the ancient demons from hell to torment their souls infinitely! Come father, witness me! Witness me as I wet myself in the blood of our enemies!" and as he sang that joyously, my most worrisome Apex joined the fray by butchering Elves with his halberd, killing them by the score while happily singing the Glory of the Hive, a song he invented on the spot.
The Angelic Slivers that had accompanied him into making planet-fall spread their wings to bring life back to the dead Slivers, and soon the tides turned sharply in the Slivers' favor, much to Freyalise's growing anger at the knight-like savior of the Tyrant.
I had called him Superbia the moment he had emerged from his egg, tenderly lifting his lonely talon as a simple Thrum. How he had decided to build himself a bulky body and armor made no sense to me, but while his features would have made him easily mistakable as a male humanoid somehow, out of all the things he could have liked to pick out of my brain, out of all the things he could have taken, he decided he liked to speak in a falsetto and take upon all of the most impossible of Chuuni-like behaviors.
Anthrax actually slithered his way towards me, his body largely regrown.
"Anthrax," I whispered, "Don't let Superbia know, but I am honestly glad he came."
Anthrax lit up with the pink colors of happiness and pride in his brother's achievements which brought glory to the Hive, and as he began to happily thrill in order to help me restore my spent energies, a blast of wind sent him to fly through a dozen of trees, splattering his body across countless tree trunks as if he were made of jelly, rather than flesh.
I winced.
"That was one of my Apex you just roughed up, Freyalise!" I snarled next, turning to glare at the half-elf Planeswalker, whose skin changed in color not just with her mood, but also by her will.
"Cry me a river, butcher of Skyshroud!" Freyalise retorted, her skin the color of bright fire.
I smiled, and then stood at the ready with my limbs extended and my whole body trembling in excitement. My fangs grew sharper, and my muscles tightened and regenerated. Hive Fleets poured out from cracks and rifts in the sky over us, and blood curling screams of the dying sang like a symphony to my ears.
"Run away, Freyalise," I said. "You may have lived four thousand years and counting, but even so...today you have lost your chance."
"The Tyrant being merciful?" Freyalise raised an eyebrow. "You will simply stab me in the back when I turn."
"You are but a tool used to cast me down," I acquiesced. "I understood that the moment I felt your presence. The Hives have woken, and now they will feast. Leave, or be devoured. You should know how we think, you who tried to rule over Us and failed."
"You'll follow my tracks back to the Plane where I live," Freyalise spoke harshly, "And then kill everyone there."
"I have outgrown the need to bring your elves to justice for their detestable sport of hunting humans. Go, and I will not pursue you. Stall, and you will be eaten, because I will not defend you...and why would I refuse my children meat, when it comes pint-sized towards them?" I smiled smugly as Freyalise's skin flushed red with anger.
Primes landed on the grounds near us, their sharp tentacles shattering the armors of the Elves nearby, some slicing through them with blades as Mana pulsed across their frames, their eyes burning with hatred as they rushed forward in flawless formations, overtaking the enemy's squads with brutality where technique and experience wouldn't cut it.
"We will meet again, Tyrant," Freyalise barked out, disappearing in a flash of green flames.
"I'm counting on it, Freyalise," I whispered back, my right hand gingerly extending to where a small cloud of Sliver-spores stood in wait. A piece of Anthrax by my feet blushed bright white in smug pride, and as I grabbed hold of it and hugged it to my chest, I began to giggle, and then laugh.
Go right ahead, Freyalise.
Go wherever you wish to be.
The Phyrexians might have their oil...
...but we have our own means of infection.
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Alphaleph
The Firstiest of First
- Location
- Elsewhere
Does he mean that he will be wet because he is covered in blood, or that he will pee his pants while he is covered in blood?
yes, the chuuni will spread!
Alphaleph
The Firstiest of First
Or it's a typo and he actually meant 'whet'
I keep asking myself why I keep reading this fic. Then I realize it's probably the same reason why people keep watching Flloyd Mayweather jr's fights.