Chapter Seventy-Four (Fallout)
- Location
- https://discord.gg/z9tBvbh
Chapter Seventy-Four (Fallout)
The fleet ships disassembled as they broke through orbit, tendrils and tentacles shifting as they merged together, forming a humanoid frame that lashed in a downward spiral splitting in half the atmosphere as the impact against Nicol Bolas' scales fractured the planet's crust. The scales remained unblemished, and unhurt. Planeswalkers of different species, forms and kinds answered the rallying banner of freedom from Tyranny, and yet at the same time they flickered out, afraid or scared, once the true hurdle presented itself.
Nicol Bolas wasn't just a simple big scaly lizard. He was something more. He was a concept. He was a powerful and inescapable reality. He was power, harnessed and dangerous. He was might, cruelly refined into vicious claws. He was cunning and genius, brought to the service of domination above all other principles.
Even as the bulwark of Bolas' summoned forces, which he had called forth with but the batting of an eyelid, fought off with his mad whispers and their minds cracked and broken, the Slivers closed the gaps with their own bulky numbers.
The thirst for blood rampaged across the countless numbers that saw talon strike wings, shields bash against headcrests, teeth sink deep into outstretched limbs and tails whip themselves around necks or limbs. The scourge of the Multiverse split open the world as the humanoid mass of trillions of Slivers clutched on to one of Bolas' wings and pinned it down, only for the Planeswalker to release burning crimson Mana from the gem floating between his horns, incinerating most of the Slivers' mass within instants.
Those who survived roared as one creature, and held on even tighter to the wing. Eyes shone brightly in empty sockets, the gathered Mana bursting out as a powerful heated ray not too dissimilar to the one Bolas had thrown in turn.
A blast of cold air clashed against the heat, freezing mist covering in ice the sands of the Mojave Desert, or what little remained of it. Domes of White Mana rose to protect the Planeswalkers as Ajani amidst them seemed busy concentrating on his spell.
Whether it worked or not, it was inconsequential.
A lot of things stop mattering when ahead of you there is only eternal sleep.
The moon began to shake as it lost orbit around Earth, and as it started to move away hurled into the nothingness of space, I felt my consciousness slip further into the depths of hibernation.
A single thought remained in the back of my head, a question that would perhaps stay unanswered.
Why wasn't the world shattered already?
Was he really caring so much about my final answer to him that he'd also weaken himself enough so as to not destroy it?
Could it really be that?
Nicol Bolas was a self-serving creature.
For all of his lies, and all of his plans, everything he did was meant only for his benefit and his gain.
The hunger gnawed at the back of my stomach, the burning sensation of the Shard trying to break free, and yet being held back shifted across my chest. Perhaps he had miscalculated the amount of energy I'd need to stay hibernated while keeping the shard in check? Did he know or not that some Slivers laid about all day doing nothing but converting the heat of countless suns into energy for my hunger?
He knew that, so with each swipe of his claws, he tore to shreds millions of gatherers of Mana.
Ripples spread across space as more fleets came into existence. Beams of gathered White and Black Mana spiraled into deathly helixes as they struck from high above, the broadsides splitting open with the sound of rupturing flesh as swarms descended down below, their frames shifting as they came down stronger than they had departed. The peculiarity of the Slivers that had survived Bolas' thrashing until then transferring over, rendering them capable of taking over without breaking a sweat.
Green Mana burst into the world as the Mojave desert knew trees for the first time in centuries, a thick canopy coming to life as a Planeswalker altered the ground, arrows and creatures of the forest rampaging through to strike at Bolas' underbelly, as if expecting it to be softer than the rest of his body.
It wasn't.
Proud Nacahtl warriors rushed through the canopy, strong-armed soldiers clad in steel and with armors woven out of magic answered the call of their leaders, Sailor Guardians and Witches broke and shattered against spells weaved effortlessly by the countless servants and slaves of Nicol Bolas, but they too died by unseen blades, or were smashed to paste by angry giants.
Yet the carnage hidden from the sight of the dragon was merely a trifling annoyance. Nicol Bolas did not, and could not, feel concern. Yet even he understood that one could not face a rising tide, but should rather direct it. Even though he knew that, and though he still kept a dozen or so grander plans at the ready, there was only that much he could use against an infestation that didn't seem keen on letting go of his wings.
The trillions that had survived now thrived, pushing the dragon down against the ground as each of them became a singular cell of a much bigger organism, one bathed in holy furor and anger, in righteous vengeance and determination.
It was an organism that had known plagues and had survived them, that had known madness and had transcended it.
Yet the firm fingers made of countless talons and tentacles broke apart as they became nothing more than ashes, the magic dismembering the Slivers proceeding through the entire being's existence until it reached halfway into its chest. There, it stopped.
A pulse of energy broke the chest composed of hardened Slivers, and as the air began to vibrate to a chorus of noise and rhythm, Nicol Bolas winced as he adjusted his eardrums to the cacophony, and then roared. His roar shifted the continents. The stars died as their energies drained into his gaping maws. Within the blink of an eye, a powerful blast of energy neatly destroyed the trillions, reducing them to mere millions.
More rifts opened up.
This time, Nicol Bolas' eyes widened briefly.
He flapped his now freed wings and slammed his tail against the planet's crust, setting the few oceans that remained ablaze as he lifted off into space, the air pressure crushing the trees and forming diamonds out of carbon where his claws had lifted off.
The planet spun out of orbit in the meantime, headed straight for the sun as its core cracked apart and began to fragment.
More Slivers joined the fray of their surviving brothers, and as links in the Hive Mind were set they grew and multiplied, their bodies altering to take on the strongest aspects of those who came before. There was no way of defeating the Slivers without taking out the Hive. There was no way of taking out the Hive without taking out the Multiverse. Nicol Bolas couldn't be defeated, but he could be forced into a corner.
He understood. He understood and he laughed as the entire Plane shook.
He came to a halt right over me, his claws digging deep into the lunar soil as his face came down towards my sleeping body, the only reason I could see it happen was because I sensed it, because Slivers were rushing forth and their eyes were mine, and their bodies were mine, and their existence was mine.
"We will never meet again," Nicol Bolas said darkly. "You have done well...my colleague, in seeing things further than most of my pupils."
Behind him, a creature crafted out of spirit magic and Mana rose to challenge him as his equal, and yet it faltered and tore itself to shreds as Ajani clutched on to his heart that stopped beating, the brand of Nicol Bolas burning beneath his mane. "I had foreseen this a long, long time ago," he acquiesced. "In a world made of infinity...why should we fight one another over things that have no limits?"
He widened his wings, and readied himself to fly away just as the world that had seen my arrival hit the Sun and burned to death, the Planeswalkers having already moved to the closest asteroids they could find that weren't set on a course for death and destruction.
As the planet died, and Nicol Bolas lifted off, he roared one last time.
His next powerful thrust of wings made him suddenly yelp as he did not move an inch from his spot, a powerful hand gripping on to his tail and with a bestial roar proceeding to throw him against Jupiter's atmosphere. Standing composed of countless Slivers, the humanoid form still had eyes shining with bright fervor. Nicol Bolas hit Jupiter, and as flames devoured the planet into a giant ball of fire, the Elder Dragon stood back up and this time roared in amusement.
A spear formed in the knight-like construct of Slivers' right hand, and slowly it began to spin as the Sliver-Knight brought it to bare.
"A draw won't satisfy you," Nicol Bolas said with a dark, amused grin as Blue Mana shifted across the Aether, chunks of the knight-like figure disappearing back where they came from, Time itself unraveling and then rearranging back with a snap-like motion. Nicol Bolas' eyes narrowed. Nothing had changed. "Then you leave me no choice but to absorb you," he spoke. "We will see if I cannot hold back Dominaria by myself."
He rushed forth, his body slithering in the void as he swooped beneath the Knight's frame, his tail gripping the wrist of the knight and sending him to tumble downwards. Within seconds wings had formed, even as the two titans fought one another surrounded by Planeswalkers who were like flies to a battle between elephants.
"Eventually, I will kill them faster than you can breed them," the Elder dragon spoke as the spear shattered against his chest, causing no damage but resulting in dead Slivers with cracked spines dying amidst agonizing throes. Flames hotter than the core of stars left the dragon's maws, but some still survived. And those that did were soon joined by others, who in turn reformed the Knight-Sliver stronger than before.
Minutes became days.
Days became weeks.
Weeks became months.
The invisible clock kept ticking as Slivers kept dying, and yet surviving at the same time. The Planeswalkers that had participated by being nothing more than nuisances had already fled, understanding dawning that whoever remained would, in the end, suffer the grievous consequences of being in the presence of a newly minted Tyrant, or of a great hungry Elder Dragon.
"To think I taught you everything you are now using against me," Nicol Bolas snarled, his eyes ablaze as amusement had left the place to bitter anger in the weeks that had gone by. "And yet you do not even speak. Would I have convinced you somehow to let me leave? To ignore everything that your limbs do so as to not be guilty of the blood on your claws...such a naive and foolish way of thinking!" as he roared, he bit down on the spear-like weapon, and his teeth held on tightly to it even though they didn't push through like the countless times before.
The Slivers' hides had grown strong enough to withstand the pressure of his maws.
Only the combined might of his breath, his magic and his jaws managed to make him rip apart the torn limb. Yet it wasn't enough to kill the Slivers, who swiftly rejoined with the rest of the Hive that formed the knight.
Anger finally made him snap past the point of caring. A challenger approached, and a challenger had to be sent back in pieces. If one could not be humbled, then one could most definitely be destroyed. With a resounding blast of Psionic energies, the Hive-Mind of the Slivers shattered abruptly.
Every single Sliver twitched once, and then they all died as they reverted back to what their lonely selves had achieved. They died, they died and new ones did not come for they had no knowledge of the death of those that came before.
With triumph in his heart and a mad glee, the trillions became millions, and finally hundreds. A last swipe of his claws tore to shreds the remaining creatures, leaving none that he could sense or see.
He laughed as he relished the challenge offered, and yet laughed even deeper at the thought that all along, he had been the one to let it happen so as to stretch his wings a bit.
He laughed, and his laughter suddenly became a wheeze and a cough.
He gurgled and snorted, thick grime leaving his nostrils as tiny creatures swam within the filth of stellar matter.
His blood washed in flames, and his brain burst in energy as he ripped the infestation out from inside him, destroying the vermin inhabiting his body to the last miserable and wretched Sliver.
"It is my victory," Nicol Bolas whispered to the emptiness of space. "And your loss..."
A spear slammed downwards against one of Nicol Bolas' eyes, the attack actually bursting through and making him roar in pain as the figure of a broad shoulder knight in armor stood small and yet graceful in front of him.
"It is not over yet, Bolas!" the humanoid creature snarled. "Father knew this day would come! I am unique among my brethren, for I am the only Sliver who has no hive mind to guide him!"
With a swish of the tail, the humanoid Sliver was sent flying beyond the boundaries of the galaxy, perhaps even in a neighboring Plane.
The eye easily healed as Nicol Bolas shook his scaly head once, trying to remember where he had last seen the moon that held his unconscious student aboard. A few months had passed, which meant it couldn't have gone that far.
So then, why couldn't he find it?
...
Did someone...did someone steal the Tyrant?
Did someone steal Dominaria and the Tyrant right from under his nose!?
This time, Nicol Bolas' roar shattered the Plane and those neighboring it in a blast of energy and wrath the likes of which had no equals, nor could they have equals.
He had plans for his student! He had glorious plans that would see him rise as the ruler of all of eternity and infinity, him, Nicol Bolas, would have been the undisputed and undoubted leader of everything and everyone across every single dimension and Plane.
And now he was missing the one linchpin of his plan.
...
Someone was going to die.
...
After he was satisfied with the way their minds melted and suffered, of course.
The fleet ships disassembled as they broke through orbit, tendrils and tentacles shifting as they merged together, forming a humanoid frame that lashed in a downward spiral splitting in half the atmosphere as the impact against Nicol Bolas' scales fractured the planet's crust. The scales remained unblemished, and unhurt. Planeswalkers of different species, forms and kinds answered the rallying banner of freedom from Tyranny, and yet at the same time they flickered out, afraid or scared, once the true hurdle presented itself.
Nicol Bolas wasn't just a simple big scaly lizard. He was something more. He was a concept. He was a powerful and inescapable reality. He was power, harnessed and dangerous. He was might, cruelly refined into vicious claws. He was cunning and genius, brought to the service of domination above all other principles.
Even as the bulwark of Bolas' summoned forces, which he had called forth with but the batting of an eyelid, fought off with his mad whispers and their minds cracked and broken, the Slivers closed the gaps with their own bulky numbers.
The thirst for blood rampaged across the countless numbers that saw talon strike wings, shields bash against headcrests, teeth sink deep into outstretched limbs and tails whip themselves around necks or limbs. The scourge of the Multiverse split open the world as the humanoid mass of trillions of Slivers clutched on to one of Bolas' wings and pinned it down, only for the Planeswalker to release burning crimson Mana from the gem floating between his horns, incinerating most of the Slivers' mass within instants.
Those who survived roared as one creature, and held on even tighter to the wing. Eyes shone brightly in empty sockets, the gathered Mana bursting out as a powerful heated ray not too dissimilar to the one Bolas had thrown in turn.
A blast of cold air clashed against the heat, freezing mist covering in ice the sands of the Mojave Desert, or what little remained of it. Domes of White Mana rose to protect the Planeswalkers as Ajani amidst them seemed busy concentrating on his spell.
Whether it worked or not, it was inconsequential.
A lot of things stop mattering when ahead of you there is only eternal sleep.
The moon began to shake as it lost orbit around Earth, and as it started to move away hurled into the nothingness of space, I felt my consciousness slip further into the depths of hibernation.
A single thought remained in the back of my head, a question that would perhaps stay unanswered.
Why wasn't the world shattered already?
Was he really caring so much about my final answer to him that he'd also weaken himself enough so as to not destroy it?
Could it really be that?
Nicol Bolas was a self-serving creature.
For all of his lies, and all of his plans, everything he did was meant only for his benefit and his gain.
The hunger gnawed at the back of my stomach, the burning sensation of the Shard trying to break free, and yet being held back shifted across my chest. Perhaps he had miscalculated the amount of energy I'd need to stay hibernated while keeping the shard in check? Did he know or not that some Slivers laid about all day doing nothing but converting the heat of countless suns into energy for my hunger?
He knew that, so with each swipe of his claws, he tore to shreds millions of gatherers of Mana.
Ripples spread across space as more fleets came into existence. Beams of gathered White and Black Mana spiraled into deathly helixes as they struck from high above, the broadsides splitting open with the sound of rupturing flesh as swarms descended down below, their frames shifting as they came down stronger than they had departed. The peculiarity of the Slivers that had survived Bolas' thrashing until then transferring over, rendering them capable of taking over without breaking a sweat.
Green Mana burst into the world as the Mojave desert knew trees for the first time in centuries, a thick canopy coming to life as a Planeswalker altered the ground, arrows and creatures of the forest rampaging through to strike at Bolas' underbelly, as if expecting it to be softer than the rest of his body.
It wasn't.
Proud Nacahtl warriors rushed through the canopy, strong-armed soldiers clad in steel and with armors woven out of magic answered the call of their leaders, Sailor Guardians and Witches broke and shattered against spells weaved effortlessly by the countless servants and slaves of Nicol Bolas, but they too died by unseen blades, or were smashed to paste by angry giants.
Yet the carnage hidden from the sight of the dragon was merely a trifling annoyance. Nicol Bolas did not, and could not, feel concern. Yet even he understood that one could not face a rising tide, but should rather direct it. Even though he knew that, and though he still kept a dozen or so grander plans at the ready, there was only that much he could use against an infestation that didn't seem keen on letting go of his wings.
The trillions that had survived now thrived, pushing the dragon down against the ground as each of them became a singular cell of a much bigger organism, one bathed in holy furor and anger, in righteous vengeance and determination.
It was an organism that had known plagues and had survived them, that had known madness and had transcended it.
Yet the firm fingers made of countless talons and tentacles broke apart as they became nothing more than ashes, the magic dismembering the Slivers proceeding through the entire being's existence until it reached halfway into its chest. There, it stopped.
A pulse of energy broke the chest composed of hardened Slivers, and as the air began to vibrate to a chorus of noise and rhythm, Nicol Bolas winced as he adjusted his eardrums to the cacophony, and then roared. His roar shifted the continents. The stars died as their energies drained into his gaping maws. Within the blink of an eye, a powerful blast of energy neatly destroyed the trillions, reducing them to mere millions.
More rifts opened up.
This time, Nicol Bolas' eyes widened briefly.
He flapped his now freed wings and slammed his tail against the planet's crust, setting the few oceans that remained ablaze as he lifted off into space, the air pressure crushing the trees and forming diamonds out of carbon where his claws had lifted off.
The planet spun out of orbit in the meantime, headed straight for the sun as its core cracked apart and began to fragment.
More Slivers joined the fray of their surviving brothers, and as links in the Hive Mind were set they grew and multiplied, their bodies altering to take on the strongest aspects of those who came before. There was no way of defeating the Slivers without taking out the Hive. There was no way of taking out the Hive without taking out the Multiverse. Nicol Bolas couldn't be defeated, but he could be forced into a corner.
He understood. He understood and he laughed as the entire Plane shook.
He came to a halt right over me, his claws digging deep into the lunar soil as his face came down towards my sleeping body, the only reason I could see it happen was because I sensed it, because Slivers were rushing forth and their eyes were mine, and their bodies were mine, and their existence was mine.
"We will never meet again," Nicol Bolas said darkly. "You have done well...my colleague, in seeing things further than most of my pupils."
Behind him, a creature crafted out of spirit magic and Mana rose to challenge him as his equal, and yet it faltered and tore itself to shreds as Ajani clutched on to his heart that stopped beating, the brand of Nicol Bolas burning beneath his mane. "I had foreseen this a long, long time ago," he acquiesced. "In a world made of infinity...why should we fight one another over things that have no limits?"
He widened his wings, and readied himself to fly away just as the world that had seen my arrival hit the Sun and burned to death, the Planeswalkers having already moved to the closest asteroids they could find that weren't set on a course for death and destruction.
As the planet died, and Nicol Bolas lifted off, he roared one last time.
His next powerful thrust of wings made him suddenly yelp as he did not move an inch from his spot, a powerful hand gripping on to his tail and with a bestial roar proceeding to throw him against Jupiter's atmosphere. Standing composed of countless Slivers, the humanoid form still had eyes shining with bright fervor. Nicol Bolas hit Jupiter, and as flames devoured the planet into a giant ball of fire, the Elder Dragon stood back up and this time roared in amusement.
A spear formed in the knight-like construct of Slivers' right hand, and slowly it began to spin as the Sliver-Knight brought it to bare.
"A draw won't satisfy you," Nicol Bolas said with a dark, amused grin as Blue Mana shifted across the Aether, chunks of the knight-like figure disappearing back where they came from, Time itself unraveling and then rearranging back with a snap-like motion. Nicol Bolas' eyes narrowed. Nothing had changed. "Then you leave me no choice but to absorb you," he spoke. "We will see if I cannot hold back Dominaria by myself."
He rushed forth, his body slithering in the void as he swooped beneath the Knight's frame, his tail gripping the wrist of the knight and sending him to tumble downwards. Within seconds wings had formed, even as the two titans fought one another surrounded by Planeswalkers who were like flies to a battle between elephants.
"Eventually, I will kill them faster than you can breed them," the Elder dragon spoke as the spear shattered against his chest, causing no damage but resulting in dead Slivers with cracked spines dying amidst agonizing throes. Flames hotter than the core of stars left the dragon's maws, but some still survived. And those that did were soon joined by others, who in turn reformed the Knight-Sliver stronger than before.
Minutes became days.
Days became weeks.
Weeks became months.
The invisible clock kept ticking as Slivers kept dying, and yet surviving at the same time. The Planeswalkers that had participated by being nothing more than nuisances had already fled, understanding dawning that whoever remained would, in the end, suffer the grievous consequences of being in the presence of a newly minted Tyrant, or of a great hungry Elder Dragon.
"To think I taught you everything you are now using against me," Nicol Bolas snarled, his eyes ablaze as amusement had left the place to bitter anger in the weeks that had gone by. "And yet you do not even speak. Would I have convinced you somehow to let me leave? To ignore everything that your limbs do so as to not be guilty of the blood on your claws...such a naive and foolish way of thinking!" as he roared, he bit down on the spear-like weapon, and his teeth held on tightly to it even though they didn't push through like the countless times before.
The Slivers' hides had grown strong enough to withstand the pressure of his maws.
Only the combined might of his breath, his magic and his jaws managed to make him rip apart the torn limb. Yet it wasn't enough to kill the Slivers, who swiftly rejoined with the rest of the Hive that formed the knight.
Anger finally made him snap past the point of caring. A challenger approached, and a challenger had to be sent back in pieces. If one could not be humbled, then one could most definitely be destroyed. With a resounding blast of Psionic energies, the Hive-Mind of the Slivers shattered abruptly.
Every single Sliver twitched once, and then they all died as they reverted back to what their lonely selves had achieved. They died, they died and new ones did not come for they had no knowledge of the death of those that came before.
With triumph in his heart and a mad glee, the trillions became millions, and finally hundreds. A last swipe of his claws tore to shreds the remaining creatures, leaving none that he could sense or see.
He laughed as he relished the challenge offered, and yet laughed even deeper at the thought that all along, he had been the one to let it happen so as to stretch his wings a bit.
He laughed, and his laughter suddenly became a wheeze and a cough.
He gurgled and snorted, thick grime leaving his nostrils as tiny creatures swam within the filth of stellar matter.
His blood washed in flames, and his brain burst in energy as he ripped the infestation out from inside him, destroying the vermin inhabiting his body to the last miserable and wretched Sliver.
"It is my victory," Nicol Bolas whispered to the emptiness of space. "And your loss..."
A spear slammed downwards against one of Nicol Bolas' eyes, the attack actually bursting through and making him roar in pain as the figure of a broad shoulder knight in armor stood small and yet graceful in front of him.
"It is not over yet, Bolas!" the humanoid creature snarled. "Father knew this day would come! I am unique among my brethren, for I am the only Sliver who has no hive mind to guide him!"
With a swish of the tail, the humanoid Sliver was sent flying beyond the boundaries of the galaxy, perhaps even in a neighboring Plane.
The eye easily healed as Nicol Bolas shook his scaly head once, trying to remember where he had last seen the moon that held his unconscious student aboard. A few months had passed, which meant it couldn't have gone that far.
So then, why couldn't he find it?
...
Did someone...did someone steal the Tyrant?
Did someone steal Dominaria and the Tyrant right from under his nose!?
This time, Nicol Bolas' roar shattered the Plane and those neighboring it in a blast of energy and wrath the likes of which had no equals, nor could they have equals.
He had plans for his student! He had glorious plans that would see him rise as the ruler of all of eternity and infinity, him, Nicol Bolas, would have been the undisputed and undoubted leader of everything and everyone across every single dimension and Plane.
And now he was missing the one linchpin of his plan.
...
Someone was going to die.
...
After he was satisfied with the way their minds melted and suffered, of course.
