AN: You know what's a genius idea when you have 50 billion stories collecting dust across 6 different websites? Starting another one!
O'Neill Cylinder Redoubt, in orbit of an unnamed black hole.
Sol 166, Y+1432 (Interstellar Standard Calendar) – June 15th, 4896 A.D. (Gregorian)
Arving Jiodo
The inky black void outside his window never failed to fill him with existential dread. It was all he'd ever known, in between scrounging for energy rations and spending every last bit of his mana toward maintaining the Hawking Radiation collectors. But something inside, somewhere deep in his soul, told him that there should be something more, something other than pure nothingness.
He rubbed his hands together, in a futile effort to banish the eternal chill in the air. In his mind, he recalled the warmth of his late father's lap, regaling him with tales of black dwarves before they burnt out as inert masses of degenerate matter, of how his grandmother once saw the last star in the Universe fizzle out.
Arving didn't believe those old Voider tales for a moment, but the thought of a place populated with light, beyond the dim red strips in the wall and the flickers from the accretion disk… It was comforting, especially in these trying times.
2 hours until black hole evaporation, The hologram informed.
2 hours until no more energy could be collected.
2 hours until there was nothing left to power the Reality Anchor.
2 hours until Trihexa finds them again.
How unfortunate was he to be born in the last generation, to see the end of life and universe itself. All that remained were 20,000 souls and some leftover biomass, hurtling through space on a rusted iron tube.
Yet, the Beast was relentless. It wouldn't stop until absolutely everything other than itself was banished from existence.
There were stories passed down from generations. How the gods and mortals of old united as one and laid down their lives to destroy it. But, again and again, no matter how hard they tried, they could only contain it for a short while at most. It was a force of nature – inevitable, like the entropy its very existence accelerated.
No hope, but to hide in the dark…
The comms pinged,
"Jiodo, report to Deployment Bay Gamma,"
"Yes, Commandant." He replied, letting the uniform seal itself around him.
…vanish without a trace.
The rusted door screeched to a shut behind him. It was just the two of them in this room, him and Commandant Bael, and the faint light of the dwindling accretion disk outside the window.
The Commandant was an older man, pushing the limits that a supernatural lifespan could give at 65, with his sagging face and thin bone white hair. In ancient times, it was said that with magic, one could live for thousands without so much as a wrinkle; but now, with the unforgiving entropy, even the purest of blood only lasted 70 years at most before they started rotting away. Arving's own parents had perished of old age when they were just 40. Arving himself, despite his supposed youth at 16, already had prematurely graying hair.
Above the table, a dim red hologram flickered, showcasing a primitive armored gauntlet of some kind.
"I won't waste too much time, as you already know the stakes," The Commandant began. The Beast was approaching, the Redoubt was the last thing between it, and complete annihilation, "Once, in the old days before the stars burnt out, there was a final between our ancestors and It. While they lost, they were able to give us precious time by wounding it with this."
The hologram grew bigger, revealing it's scaly design in detail. Even just looking at it, it just screamed power.
"The Gauntlet of the Red Dragon. Its final wielder was able to maim Trihexa with his final blow, paying for it with his life." The Commandant explained, "For almost three millennia, it was thought to be lost… until now."
He tapped on the table, revealing a holographic pad to enter a numeric code. Then, the table slowly split open, revealing the gauntlet in its crimson glory.
"Though every one on the Redoubt is genetically a descendant of this last wielder, you are the only one with enough human ancestry for this to work."
"What do you want me to do?" Arving was unsure where the Commandant was going with this.
"Simple, I want to do one last Hail Mary and have you bond with it, learn its power." The Commandant coughed into his hand, wiping away the blood from his thin lips, "We all know what's going to happen once the Reality Anchor fails. But maybe we can at least spit in its eye before we're all gone…"
"And if that doesn't work?" Arving asked, knowing damn well his superior already had a backup plan.
The Commandant put a black iron crown onto the table, with intricate runes indicating who this once belonged to:
שְׁלֹמֹה
The Crown of Solomon, which contained the collective wisdom of all of Angel, Devil, and Humankind.
"Then, as the designated survivor, you would be the last to bear the knowledge of who we were. You will board an escape pod, and take your chances with what's on the other side of that event horizon."
Arving took a shuddering breath, and it wasn't the failing environmental systems plunging the air to below freezing, "Is this… Is this all we have left?"
Dead silence, other than the creaking in the hull. The Commandant looked at him, deep in eye; there wasn't even the faintest spark of hope left in there, "Maybe there's someone to remember us on the other side… Maybe not. But this is all we got." He glanced over to the black hole, "Do you understand what I am asking of you, Lieutenant Jiodo?"
"Yes, Commandant."
"Then give me your arm."
Arving stuck out his arm as ordered, as the Commandant grabbed the gauntlet, began to shove his hand into hit. The metal was cold… dead, devoid of even the slightest inkling of magical power.
"Sir, I don't feel anything… Are you sure its…"
A sudden tug, a magnetic force pulled the gauntlet to the table, pinning Arving to it. He was unable to shake himself free as other men rushed into the room to restrain him. The Commandant gave him a look of mourning.
"I'm sorry, Arving… This was the only way."
Violently, the Commandant grasped him by the neck, and the Crown of Solomon was placed over his head, melting into his skull where it rested above his brow.
He screamed and cried in unimaginable agony, as an endless torrent of knowledge overwhelmed his senses, blinding and deafening him.
It lasted between an eternity and two hours; he couldn't tell anymore, from the relentless torture. But it was over now, leaving him near paralyzed, with a throbbing head as his eyes and ears trickled blood.
He could barely give protest, as his limp body was dragged to the nearest escape pod and tied down. In the corner of his eye, there was a timer on one of the screens:
45 seconds until Evaporation.
The Commandant looked as if he was about to say something, before a loud rumble occurred. The void outside was suddenly no longer black, but a deep crimson, twisting, and almost bleeding at the seams. The reality anchor was down.
Without hesitating, or so much as a goodbye, the pod was launched straight down into the shrinking event horizon.
Through the small window, as the pod tumbled and turned, Arving could barely make out anything.
25 seconds until Evaporation.
He got once glimpse of the Cylinder, as a bright red light split it in half. Out of that light, he could scarcely make out a figure… small… humanoid… but with ten wings.
It was staring at him.
15 seconds until Evaporation.
The pod had crossed the event horizon, but he could still feel it watching him. How? How!?
It turned again to reveal the same figure – closer, much closer. Hatred – that's all he felt coming from it. Pure unadulterated hatred.
10 seconds until Evaporation.
He was afraid. He was so, so afraid. But there was something else welling up inside was the Beast grew nearer.
5 seconds until Evaporation.
Damn it! He wasn't falling fast enough. He won't make it to the singularity on time. It was catching up to him.
4…
3…
2…
1–
The pod was shredded around him as it's bright red claws reached out to grasp his immortal soul.
Yet, there was a growing warmth, coming from both his chest and the gauntlet. He didn't know if it was his ears playing tricks on him, but he could almost hear a–
[Boost!]
On the outskirts of Kuoh, Japan
Sol 101, Y-1453 (Interstellar Standard Calendar) – April 11th, 2011 A.D. (Gregorian)
Arving Jiodo
He woke up, as a soft blade of something tickled his cheek. It was bright, almost impossibly bright, as his eyes tried to adjust to the sea of gently undulating green all around him.
Arving forced himself upright, causing the puddle of something brown and wet to squelch from his movement. Looking down, he was on the edge of a sight he had never seen before, a large puddle of water… outside of the reclamation tanks. There were things, moving around in it too…
"Impossible," He muttered… These sights were something out of ancient tales.
But his senses weren't deceiving him, as smells he never knew flooded his nose, which had only known the recycled air of the cylinder.
Arving looked above, through the gaps of the strange branching structures, to the bright dots of light above… and he could only weep at its majesty.
"Fresh… meat?" A harsh, clicking whisper from behind.
Alas, all good dreams must come to an end…
