An Interdimensional Incident (IC, CLOSED)

[Mirum]

An Interdimensional Incident


OOC/SIGN-UPS - OFFICIAL IIWIKI PAGE

Across the multiverse, there lay infinite different worlds with many different nations. Each is different, unique, and special. Most seek peace. Others, war and conquest. However, the one thing that these nations all have in common: survival. The nations wish to survive and thrive, however, sometimes, nations fall. It is only natural. But what happens when a nation refuses to fall, and instead, conquer all of reality itself? The resulting event would send shockwaves through the multiverse as the local political power is exchanged. But such events are rare and usually limited in scale. What if it was not? What if it was never-ending...? Welcome to An Interdimensional Incident, a character/nation combo RP.

---

PART 1: THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM:

Portmont, Mirum
The Presidential Manor, Office One (Presidential Office)
Aug. 22nd, 2021
4:32 PM Local Time

Lyra Elmspirit sat at her desk, pondering the chaotic events of the last few days. She was tired, ready for bed, and just drained of energy, yet there were a few things remaining for her to do today. She let out a long sigh and sat up just as the door creaked open and her Vice President walked in, looking nervous, and undoubtedly bringing more bad news.

"Good afternoon, Madam President." Vice President Sindri Huba approached the desk, his calm voice not agreeing with his nervous expression.

"Hello Sindri. You know you don't have to be so formal around me in a private space such as this." Lyra replied, and gestured to the paper in Sindri's hands, "Let me guess, another incident."

Sindri nodded, and pushed the paper onto Lyra's desk, "The MSI has a bit of an issue, and are concerned."

"What kind of issue?"

"You've heard of the unidentified object, correct?" Sindri began, and Lyra nodded, "Well, it's changed course. It is now orbiting Sol in a stable orbit near Aris. Just after the MSI noted this, all their space probes monitoring the object went dark, not to mention our spy satellites, but nothing else. What's even more confusing is that their ground based telescopes are picking up some sort of signal going to and from our planet, centered around the object. They are currently working on deciphering it."

"Wait, what? The spy satellites went dark, and so did their space probes?" Lyra stood up, confused, "All of them just simultaneously went dark?"

"Correct. All of them."

"Tell Minister Steeldirt to set CCL 2, and mention it isn't the terrorists that made me do this."

"Yes, Ma'am." Sindri nodded in acknowledgement, before leaving Lyra's office.

All across Mirum, confounded soldiers began to prepare for an unexpected war, hoping that it was a drill, even more so than before, while confused scientists began to try and unravel the mystery of what had happened. This mysterious object, whatever it may be, seemed more dangerous than the threat within the nation itself. It seemed to the citizens of Mirum, that a storm was brewing, but no-one would know from where the first bolt would strike. It seemed that this period of time was the calm before the storm...

TL;DR:
President Elmspirit thinks something fishy is going on with that unknown object, orders military to begin to prepare for the worst.

[Drecha]

A lone Drechanian Starcruiser drifts through space, 158 million miles away from its target, surveying it. Surely by now, the inhabitants of the target world have noticed its prescience, but would not be aware of what it truly is. This Starcruiser has initiated Phase 1 of the Drechanian Military's Invasion Proceedure. Throughout the multiverse, similar vessels were performing the same tasks as this one: disabling any imaging satellites and surveying the resources and capabilities of numerous inhabited worlds. A storm was slowly brewing, over the nation of Valentine Z, above the skies of Terra (the homeworld of The Republic of Mirum) and Earth (the home of The Sixth Republic of Korea), and in the star systems of the Oortian Community of Qhevak, Empire of Galaxies, and Hahoalki, as well as many other dimensions. The Dictatorship of Drecha was continuing its eternal expansion through the multiverse...

[The Sixth Republic of Korea]

The Blue House, 1 Cheongwadae-ro, Jongno-gu, Seoul
Presidential Residence
August 22, 2021
4:32 PM

---

"ETA 2 minutes to Blue House, POSK inbound." Said one of the young men belonging to the Presidential Security Service who rode in the black security Hyundai Nexo SUV along with three other agents, young and strong men, each carrying Heckler & Koch MP7s aside from the driver, who carried a Beretta Px4 Storm pistol on his side. President Moon was acutely aware of what this situation was. He'd been pulled from his Presidential compound in the center of Seoul, Gwanghwamun, abruptly and quite rudely by twenty members of his Presidential Security Service, or PSS. When asked why, they wouldn't tell him, only that his safety was in danger. He was crammed into the SUV and quickly moved towards the Blue House, escorted by two Mercedes-Benz S-Class, both equally staffed with additional agents from the PSS.

As the convoy arrived with the first S-Class pulling in followed by the President's vehicle, six officers of the Security Service opened the doors leading to the Blue House, armed with UMP Submachine Guns marched out, wearing black dress suits.

"Go, go, go." Said one of the agents in the vehicle, pushing the door open violently, climbing out and pulling the President with him. "This is ridiculous!" He said as he was removed and forced to stand on his feet.

The Blue House Presidential Bunker

---

President Moon walked briskly to the underground bunker put in place for the President's utmost safety in situations where the President's life was at stake. He arrived to a single room at the end of a long concrete hall. Upon entrance, he was greeted by two additional PSS officers. In the center of the room was a oblong table with several officials sitting around them. On the far side were six televisions, each displaying news feeds and atmospheric data, as well as black screens that formerly projected live feeds from satellites in orbit. Inside the room was Prime Minister Kim Boo-kyum, Minister of National Defense Suh Wook, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Won in-choul, as well as the various Chiefs of the Staff of the Armed Forces. Aside from the top brass of the ROK Armed Forces and heads of government sat Sang-Ryool Lee, Administrator for the Korea Aerospace Research Institute. The doors closed behind him.

"Can someone tell me what the meaning of this bullshit is?! You drag me away and-"

"The grid has gone down, Mister President." Said General Won in-choul, who was the first to speak up. President Moon returned the statement with a confused look.

"What grid, what do you mean?" Said the President as Sang-Ryool Lee stood. "Mister President, earlier today our satellites, namely the GEO-KOMPSAT 2A, began to pick up very odd energy readings from the outer limits of the Sol System. We detected these rather quickly and tasked additional satellites to investigating. We informed the Blue House as well as reached out as fits our jurisdiction under EASA guidelines to the Japanese. They experienced the same readings and tasked additional satellites for further monitoring. We attempted to reach out to America's NASA for further reports but before we knew it, the entire grid was scrambled. We lost contact with all satellites, including our meteorologic monitors. Not only that, but the military's GPS satellites went down, as well." President Moon shook his head in frustration.

"And the North? The Chinese?" Said the President.

"We've been in contact with them. Both the North and the Chinese deny any involvement in whatever's happening, their own satellites have been downed, as well." Said General Won in-choul.

"We are in coordination with Japan and Taiwan, including NATO and SATO, who are doing what they can to bring their own networks back up. Even contact with the International Space Station has been lost." Said Prime Minister Kim Boo-kyum. For a moment, the President remained silent.

"What can be done?" Asked the President.

"Due to what happened to our grids, I recommend we bring our readiness level to DEFCON 2." Said General Won in-choul. President Moon thought on this for a moment.

"Do it. But keep it quiet."

[Hahoalki]

The first system that the Drechanians encountered within the Allied States was terrifying. Something was disassembling a star. Vast streamers of plasma ascended from the orange surface, as strong magnetic fields separated the plasma into its component isotopes. The sub-streamers then ascended by fractals into a flurry of activity. Constant thermal emissions revealed that work of some kind was being done, though the precise nature was unclear. A massive cloud of artificial structures surrounded this surreal scene - by all appearances, over half a solar mass of technology was present in the system. It quickly became apparent that disabling every single sensor in the system would be horrendously impractical. If the Starcruiser remained, it could potentially be identified.

----------

The second system to receive a visit was, if possible, even stranger. This one appeared to have an intact star somewhere within it - though it was hard to tell. A vast swarm of membranous objects encircled the star, each one operating at a different temperature, "feeding" on the heat released by membranes below. These entities seemed less like artificial structures, and more like living beings, orbiting the central mass in "flocks" or "swarms," and seeming to communicate with flashes of light. Based on total thermal emissions, the Drechanians deduced that something star-like was at the center. For hours, it seemed as if the Starcruiser was unnoticed. Then, out of the blue, a transmission arrived at the Starcruiser. It was a coherent optical signal, seemingly emitted from the direction of the "star," with an aperture area the size of the entire swarm of swarms. It took only a moment to decrypt the signal. It was the first thousand prime numbers.

Only one logical conclusion could be drawn: the swarm of swarms was a single sapient entity.

----------

The third system to have a Drechanian Starcruiser arrive was somewhat more normal than the others. The star was visible, and multiple planets orbited it. The only one with signs of habitation had an atmosphere composed entirely of argon and nitrogen, and was apparently inhabited entirely by synthetic beings. Destroying all sensors in the system would be a trivial matter, though whether the inhabitants could be assimilated remained to be seen.

----------

The fourth system in the Allied States that the Drechanians encountered, however, was ripe for the taking. The star was intact, visible, and surrounded by ordinary planets. The amount of infrastructure within it was manageable. The fourth planet from the star was within the habitable zone, and had an atmosphere of oxygen and nitrogen. It had a population of perhaps five hundred million biological sophonts of a variety of species. This planet - this planet was exactly what they were looking for.

Unbeknownst to the Drechanians, the starlifting project, the matrioshka brain, the planet of machines, and the planet of biologicals all belonged to the same "empire." The matrioshka brain itself was but a single ganglion in a vast, vast network - a network that comprised the "brain" of the Postsingular Being that ruled that empire. That Being's name was Hahoalki. Drecha had, perhaps, finally found a worthy opponent.

[Mirum]

Portmont, Mirum
The Presidential Bunker, Situation Room, ~500ft Below The Presidential Manor
Aug. 22nd, 2021
4:45 PM Local Time

"Madam President, I assure you," began Jas Clearstone, the Minister of the MSI, "This ANOMALY, whatever it is, is completely and totally unrelated to the unidentified object; perhaps a large scale hacking-"

"A large scale terrorist hacking? The very idea of that is, in itself, impossible!" the Minister of Security and Safety Services, Aurora Nolat, cut Minister Clearstone off, "I'll have you know, our security systems are the most advanced in the world and-"

"Then perhaps, you would like to explain why the entire surveillance grid plus the MSI's space telescopes went down suddenly and simultaneously? I agree with Minister Clearstone on this one. It has to have been a hack. However, this could not have been the terrorists, or they would have done so sooner." General Wayne Bihra jumped in.

"And then, who, may I ask, do you believe is responsible?" Minister Nolat questioned.

"Minister Steeldirt, Admiral Thehin, and myself are still trying to find that answer."

Before Minister Nolat could reply, President Elmspirit asked, "Minister Clearstone, correct me if I am wrong, but shortly before the surveillance grid went down, a few ground stations intercepted a brief pulse of energy originating in the direction of the object."

"Correct, ma'am, but I doubt that-"

"-The two events are related. But say, hypothetically speaking, it was related, and the object the source of the energy, and the pulse was intentional. What then?"

"Then, ma'am, we could be in a massive amount of trouble. Invasion by an extraterrestrial force, at the worst. I highly doubt that though." Minister Clearstone sounded unsure of himself, for the first time in the entire meeting.

President Elmspirit, Vice President Huba, Minister Steeldirt, Admiral Thehin, and General Bihra all exchanged a brief glance.

"Minister Steeldirt, pull the plug. Standby to receive an event to the scale a widespread nuclear attack. Whatever this object is, it is clearly not an asteroid, and probably not friendly either. Recall everything to base. This goes for all MSI missions as well." for the first time as President of Mirum, Lyra Elmspirit had never felt so hopeless, as she now felt when saying those dreaded words. This was going to be a very bad situation, no matter what action she took.

---

TL;DR:
Emergency Meeting of the Ministers of State, the President, and Vice President of Mirum. They determine the space object is not an asteroid, and prepare for the absolute worst.

[Drecha]

The lone Drechanian Starcruiser over Hahoalki, upon reaching the fourth planet, quickly broadcast an encrypted message home detailing every planet and the priority that each would be taken. The fourth would be the first taken, swiftly followed by the third, second, and first. The Starcruiser then boost its orbit to a safe distance away from the planet. Back on the homeworld of Drecha (simply referred to as 'The Hive'), a total of 50 Starcruisers began the long journey to the universe where their target (Hahoalki's fourth world) lay. The Starcruisers over Earth and Terra did the same as their counterpart in Hahoalki, and an additional Starcruiser was dispatched to each system.

[Hahoalki]

Location: Planet TZO-5679516 D, "New Skarva"

Four Months Later

The meeting of the Ascended had been called to order.

QV-368, the local meritocrat, was able to determine much from the initial anomalous appearance and disappearance of Entity 4673. Now, pe had to deal with Entity 4674 through Entity 4723. And per eyes were being destroyed as quickly as they could be fabricated.

In an instant, the unanimous decision was reached - all data on these entities would be relayed through the Lightways and the MCS Gate Nexus to the local Transcended in real time. Pe would be able to determine the best course of action. Meanwhile, Ascended XUA-83602 would proceed with all due haste on an intercept vector with the unknown entities, along with half of the local fleet. Meanwhile, the population of New Skarva would be informed that they were in a state of emergency. The entire population would be recalled to the arcologies - which, while not militarily capable, were reasonably easy to fortify.

Per standard procedure in the Allied States, unknown and possibly intelligent entities were to be greeted with a transmission of the first thousand prime numbers. This was done immediately prior to XUA-83602's launch with the rest of the fleet.

Conversion drives flared to life as warships began their burns. Led by XUA-83602, the "swarm" of thirty 4.3 km long warships made their way on an intercept course with the incoming entities.

[Bengal and Assam]

Government House, Ayamine-shi, Point Elizabeth, Minato, Bengal
22nd August, 2021, 13:45 Bengal Time

---

Susan Itai looked out of the windows of the Cabinet Meeting Room towards the outer gates, as the Land Rovers, clearly belonging to the military and government officials, in this case members of the National Defence Council, poured into the Government House compound. For an extraordinary session of the Council, which doesn't meet outside it's weekly Defence Review meetings.

She looked around the room once more before going to her seat at the head of the table. Worried about her husband and son who have gone on a summer ski trip to the NorthEast, although a landline call did help her reassure them of their safety.

She greeted everyone as they came into the room and too their seats. The Leader of the Opposition also came in, given that it was a very peculiar situation where bipartisanship may be eventually required. And the Governor-General, who as the Queen's Representative in Bengal, needed to be informed of all matters in regards to the Defence of the Realm.

"Right then, ladies and gentlemen." Prime Minister Itai announced, "The Council will come into order. God Save the Queen."

"God Save the Queen", everyone except the Leader of the Opposition and a few others in the room said.

"Right then. Sam, what do you have to report?" asked the PM. "Mainly in regards to the satellite shutdown, and the steps taken by us and our Commonwealth allies...?"

"Well Maam" said General Sam Itou, Chief of Defence Staff, "while I'd rather let Daniel handle the report about the rest of the Commonwealth, I'll get the satellites and our mobilisation report out of the way." said he as he got up to the projector and plugged in an USB drive, holding visuals to back up his report. He then continued "As of a couple of hours ago, satellite communications and feed across the planet, regardless of national origin have been down. The Royal Bengal Defence Forces initially thought of it to be a Japanese or Soviet attack, with a small possibility of it also being of American origin, however, they denied it once asked, and claimed that their ones are down as well.
Nontheless, not all is bad. Our submarine cables still work. So while communications may indeed be slow, its not completely cut out."

"What do you make out of this, General?" asked the PM. "Who is it? Al Qaeda, or that renegade state on our borders called the PRC, aka North China?"

"Maam, as of now, its completely unclear. It might be a solar flair or something else." said Sam Itou. "Space Defence Department and BSXA are cooperating with Commonwealth Space Exploration and Defence Agency to look into the root of the cause."

"Fair enough... and our mobilisation?"

"We are on Defcon 3. All forces on standby. Navy and Air Force on full lookout. Civil Defence is also running frequent drills on a national level. We are also prepared to issue callups for military Reservists, and issue National Emergency Ammunition to gun owners who went through the psychic evaluation within the last year. Medical, Police and Civil Defence reserves have already been called upto service to deal with any sorts of emergency. That's the end of my part of the report, now I'd suggest that we move on to Daniel's "

Sam Itou sat down as the PM gave a nod to Lieutenant-General Daniel Cunningham, Commander of the British Commonwealth Forces in Bengal to start his presentation.

"Maam, Your Excellency, council members" said Lt.Gen Cunningham. "I've been told by CommonDefence HQ in Glasgow, that since common coordination and defence operabilities have been compromised due to unreliable communications, Commonwealth military assets, including Commonwealth nuclear weapons present in Bengal will be put under the temporary authority of the Kawanese Crown, by extension, the Government of British Kawa. While the Commonwealth expects that each and every Realm will maintain their defence commitments to each other, immediate responses cannot be guaranteed in case of an attack.
London has also requested to us, and the Aussies, to be in immediate contact and to maintain the territorial integrity of Hong Kong and Singapore."

[A m e n r i a]

The Lotus Flower, ???, Empire of Amenria

August 2049

It started out like any other day. Business as usual, clear skies and all that. But they always do, don't they? Can't villains at least make the effort to come when the overall atmosphere supports their entrance? Then again, having a crisis on top of a other would be such a headache.

Six figures stand before a seventh. Overhead, a dim purple light, shaped like a small lotus flower, flickers, while multiple tubular lights of the same colour stand on either side of the metal room. Pipes snake around the ceiling, while the floor was eerily desolate, save for a black carpet leading to the seventh figure, and the equipment connected to the liquid-filled tube he floated in. His eyes turned to see the men, woman, and...creature before him before he spoke, his voice a deep and guttural, but sickly one. "Allow me to confirm this; every single satellite on the planet has been disabled by an unknown party?" he asked, before being responded to by one of the six figures, a young woman who couldn't be older than 15. "Yes, Grandmaster. My agents in the Vatican has confirmed this." Her hair, black in colour with purple highlights and dressed in a ponytail, swayed as she turned her head to another figure, an old cyborg in his fifties. The left side of his body is completely mechanical, with an advanced, sleek design one would see in a scifi movie. He had a purple suit on, over a white shirt and a purple tie. What human parts he had left were covered in wrinkles, and the man himself looked like he was in his fifties. His grey hair, neatly slicked back confirmed this, and so did the refined aura of a gentleman he carried with him. "So have my agents the Caliphate and those within the Neo-Ottoman ranks." The child next to him raised his hand and waved it in the air. He was easily the youngest person in the room, looking to be around the age of eight. His hair was also a natural black, messy, curled, and long enough to cover the bottom of his neck. He wore a purple shirt and matching shorts and socks. His sneakers were black, and so was his backpack. "My friends around the empire are saying the same thing. One is contacting the Exalted One as we speak." One by one, they shared their findings. Then, it was the Grandmaster's turn again to speak. "What about the rest of the world leaders? Have they been informed of the matter?"

"The King of Arabia has already been briefed in the matter and is likely going to contact the Acting Caliph soon."The rightmost figure replied. Not a millimeter of their skin is to be seen, including their face, which was hidden behind a purple mask, segmented into three parts, without even holes for their eyes, if they had any, to see through. They had the small waist and slender figure of a woman, yet seemingly the rough hands and sturdy legs of a man. A tight, black, protective suit of some kind, akin to a diving suit but with a purple chestpiece and armour padding here and there, covered their torso and arms, while a purple trenchcoat framed their figure and gloves of the same colour covered their hands. They wore black cargo pants and a pair of black boots. "Very well. This is most likely extraterrestial meddling." the figure in the tube responded. He turned to the person in the middle, a man as well-dressed as the cyborg. His skin was pale, contrasting his raven hair, which was so long it reached his chest. Above his lips was a thin moustache, and below them was a goatee. "Heavenly, try to contact whoever is doing this." "Yes, Grandmaster." "Titan, have your men get our satellites back online. The cyborg nodded in agreement. "Yes, Grandmaster." "Hellish, scan for interdimensional interference." "Already on progress, Grandmaster." the masked entity replied as they gave him a thumb up. "The rest of you, keep monitoring your respective cells. You are dismissed." "Yes, Grandmaster!" They each bowed before their leader, then disappeared. Not leave normally through the door, but actually vanish into thin air.

Magenta: spoken in Japanese
Box: a character's inner thoughts

[Ukcross]

After The Ending of The Recent Ukcrossian-Nytoan War, Large amounts of Construction Starts at Nastac, Fort Lindez, Dinon, Fort Benca, Fort Gota and Other Forts and Cities Effected by The War. As Trade Increases Ukcrossian Farms Struggle to Get Enough Crops Grown to Support the Demand for Food. The Ukcrossian Government Tries to Open More Trade to Get more Food, That Starts to Fail as Ukcross Doesn't Have Many Trading Partners. The Ukcrossian Government Starts to Try and Contact more Countries to Start Diplomatic Relations and Trade. The Military Struggles to Feed Its Soldiers and Mutinies Start to Form, with Military Bases and Forts Being Taken Over By Mutinying Soldiers. The Ukcrossian Government Does Have a Success with Some Farms in Some Islands, But It Doesn't Supply Food. Trout Fishing Businesses, Previously Thought to be Useless Due to The Farming Industry's Growth, Start to Open all Over Ukcross.

[Valentine Z]

The Valentians – Chapter 0 – A Fateful Meeting – Year 2091 / 28.717 VEDY (Valentian-Era Decimal Years)

It was a normal day for the Valentians, as far as anyone was concerned in the own universe of theirs. Valentians doing their own things, whether be it on Earth or on Mars - discussing about the latest sports that the Valentian teams were participating in, playing with their cats, and just doing their usual businesses. Even Valentijn was in a particularly relaxed state of mind, only occupying herself with the daily hustle and bustle of NSSCRA that she was a participant of. In the Main Series of the race, however, is a particular Valentian named Gwen Tracer Allison Oxton for short, who likes to hop into other universes on a regular basis both for leisurely purposes and to find out about the other worlds around them. More importantly, she uses her powers to check up on other threats that might loom the Valentians and their universe, and this is exactly where they came into play. It all started with the complaint of Angela and the rest of the scientists in Valentine Z not being able to receive their satellite images. "The satellites have been down for hours at this point," one of the tickets from the science team wrote, "This normally does not happen to us before, at least not in this capacity. Would appreciate an investigation from the Sixty's higher-ups regarding this matter. Thank you, and Kind Regards." The message was sent covertly to Valentijn and Gwen first.

Looking at each other with a face of bewilderment, Valentijn and Gwen began discussing before they start spreading this news to the Sixty, and to the rest of the Valentian civilian populace. Two giantesses - one 117 meters and another 100 meters tall, sat or walked around in their personal office, occasionally checking to make sure that there are no one spying or walking into them. "So, are you absolutely sure?" Valentijn asked, a little edged out on her seat as Gwen paced around the room. "I am afraid so, Val," Gwen said, her often cheerful voice replaced by one of weight and grave, "I saw... something, it seems like a spaceship. I still have no idea as to what they are doing, but if they are blocking the satellites that we are using to survey the worlds around us, that can't be because they wanted to live peacefully with us. I have seen this scenario a few times - no one purposely blocks out satellites for ours unless it is a naturally occurring pulse that somehow disabled them for hours," she took a sip of water from an oversized cup before placing it back on Valentijn's table, "Moving on, it's best that we initiate it as a form of caution, AND to check what is up with them. I hope they are not here to vaporise us, is what I am saying. An invasion, this is going to take a toll on our progress, but what's a couple of decades, huh? Haha... ah, I hope we don't see war."

Valentijn stood up and nodded, "We will need 3 transmissions, in this very order: First, we shoot a signal to the unidentified visitors, see what is up, like you said. Then we will need to send a secondary transmission to the other beings in this multiverse on what is happening. And of course, last, but not the very least, we need to tell the Valentians that there might be an imminent threat of conquest or some form of invasion, but until then, hold their horses and don't do anything rash. Which I do hope that they won't get too chaotic." Gwen agreed and nodded in return, taking the hint that she was going to do the second part of the transmission, "I will ask Angela to tag along with me, provided I can dispatch this information to her. I will need someone else to be there just because, you know, tFate can't do everything, after all! That, and I will need her spaceship's interdimensional transmitters for this task."

"Haha, yeah. In any case, yes, you have my approval to tell her. This information is going to dispatched in a matter of hours, anyway. And Gwen, thanks for sticking with us. I mean, it's been decades - and definitely longer for you, I know - but you really could have gone anywhere else instead of sticking with us. So I appreciate that," Valentijn then stood up to pat Gwen on the back, the power of Fate (or at least someone close to it) on her side benevolently.

"You're welcome! I quite like this place, you know? There is something charming about the world here. The cohesion, the harmony, and everything else that is nice. Anyway, I will be off to do the transmission to the multiverse."

As Valentijn slumped back into her chair, her wife walked in. Nearly the same size as her if a little smaller, the curious robot waltz in without a care of the world, in her usual blue dress that complements her light blue body. "Hey there, Dearie! Hope you have been well, haha! You have quite a long face, is something the matter?"

"Oh, Clarissa..." Valentijn trailed off, walking towards her wife and trying her best to console her, "There is quite a lot of news that we will have to break to the people."

-----

Valentijn's office definitely got a lot more crowded - a mix of the active personnel from The Sixty, those who have been re-activated for service, a few citizens and journalists, and perhaps all 14 billion people reading the news with anticipation, though somewhat unnaturally calmly considering the state that they are in. "You know, I am quite happy with the Valentian folks," Valentijn herself remarked, slightly impressed with a smirk, "Normally when an invasion or some disaster is about to happen, you all would have been panicking. Anyway, onto business. A few hours ago, Gwen and I received a message from the Valentian Science Team that they were unable to work with their satellite equipment, ones that are pointing deep into space - so it's not our TV and networks. The outage has been at it for hours, and we believe that these outer array of satellites were blocked by unnatural elements. In other words, you don't normally see and come across those who wants to visit us blocking our satellites, and there is a small chance that we are either getting a surprise party, or a surprise invasion. The latter is definitely and infinitely way worse," she took a sip of coffee before continuing on, clearing her throat. 14 billion people watching, and she was simply trying her best to word out her announcements, "Hmm, yes? No, I don't think so," she said softly to whoever is on her desk - a couple of citizens and reporters aiming their microphones at their giant leader, "No, I am saying this right now, don't fret too much. Ahh, I said there is a chance. Sorry! Now then, where were we?"

"There is a chance that we might get invaded. I would have asked you all to be calm and be collected, but I see that quite a lot of you are still calm and I did not see any outrage on both Earth and Mars. So, thank you for that, I really appreciate that! So, I can finally move on with the Valentian Contingency Plan - you know the drill, yes? Children, the elderly, the disabled, those who are incapable of fighting, will have their minds uploaded into Clarissa's data banks, which she would not touch, trust me. We have gone through this a few times. You will get your bodies back once this crisis is over, all of the data is inside. For those who have opted for the mind backup program, please do one as soon as you can, but don't overdo it - you don't want to hog the bandwidth from the rest of your fellow Valentians. Those who can or want to fight, you will be re-activated as soldiers and active serviceperson, and you will be deployed to Earth or Mars to fend off these invaders. Until then, please do live your lives normally, there is no reason to panic - which I actually don't need to say, but ahh, it helps to say it out. Err... bye," the transmission then cut off from the major and minor networks of Valentine Z, after which the people then went about their lives normally, just with a hint of anticipation on what they were about to get IF they get invaded. Some thought of simply living it out in the virtual network until this whole thing is over, others were willing to defend the two planets that the land of cats and happiness are situated on, and with everyone simply backing up their minds.

"You know... that was better than I thought," Valentijn repeated again to her subordinates, "Considering the people's knack for mass panic, I was expecting way worse. In the meantime," Valentijn said, deploying her computational device with the help of Clarissa and the others around her, "We will need to transmit this message to the visitors."

Hello to you, and welcome to the world of Valentine Z,

If you are receiving this message, then that definitely means that you are in our world right now, like in our universe, and either you have our attention, or we just noticed something. In this case, it would be the former, even though both of them have a rather subtle difference. Anyway, whilst I am not here to accuse and point fingers, we have been getting an outage of our satellites lately, and I was wondering if you - our visitors - were responsible for this? We would not mind if that is the case, other than that we would appreciate it if you can turn it back on, unless it is a side effect of your spaceship's interdimensional wormholes that caused such a ripple for hours.

If it is no trouble and if you do not mean harm, please land your craft on the unoccupied moon Enceladus, of planet Saturn (the one with the ring), and send a transmission back to us too. It will mean a lot to us, and hopefully means that you are not here to invade us.

Once again, with warm welcome,
- Valentijn “De Sierlijke en Vrij Valkyrie General ov Valentine Z” Samantha Maxwell Delta Weston Stijn Angelus Tracey Mitchell Tristian Marnix Basilisk Lewis Hyatt X. Constantine Sein Lin Zaw Naing.

-----

Gwen and Angela have their own jobs to do. Escaping Earth's gravity rather easily on Angela's craft, they then went 500 million kilometers away from Earth and Mars before making a jump into other dimensions. Angela would be the one piloting the ship, while Gwen was the co-pilot, her body already shrunk to a "normal" Valentian size, and with a map of the multiverse in her hands. "So... these are the list of worlds that we will need to visit and send transmissions to. Hopefully they are still alive to answer our calls. And, you know, not invaded."

Angela calmly nods, still a little happy inside because she was going on an adventure to other worlds with a friend, but even she understood the gravity of the situation. An unknown force - possibly malevolent, waiting to strike them. What could they be wanting from us, she thought. She went on to ask Gwen a few questions, though only if she is comfortable. "So, hey Gwen! I have a few questions."

"Ahh, please do shoot."

"These guys... the visitors. Do you know them? Or do we know them? Any chance that they might be our old friends or old foes?"

"Ahh, my fingers point to that not being a case. I did not manage to get a close look at them, but as far as I understand, and from the interactions with other planets and worlds, I don't think it's them. No one from NSSCRA or WGPC, or WGP2, or Rally... or anyone in the international sports scene is going to blow us up."

"Except maybe for that one nation that time, from what I heard in NSSCRA 8," Angela remarked, though not confrontational; she was simply trying to exhaust all the possibilities.

"Nah, that is definitely not them. Besides, they have had beef with another nation, not us. Between you and me, I don't think they have that sort of firepower and tech."

"Haha, I guess you are right! Anyway, ahh, we are here. I do hope they can receive our transmission."

"Should be relatively simple... I think. I am banking on the assumption that they can read one of Earth's many thousand languages, and that they can receive radio communications. I will also assume that they cannot send or receive interdimensional communications. If they can, that's good, but let's go low-tech here."

"I got it, haha! Well, transmitters are ready when you want to fire!"

"Here goes."

Greetings to you, my fellow friends, or strangers,

If you receive this message, that probably means that you might be in the same trouble as us. I am Gwen Tracer Allison Oxton from Valentine Z, the nation that occupies another world's Earth and Mars in the Solar System. If all of these are alien to you, don't worry - this simply means that we are from another world. Anyway, I am not sure about you, but for us, we noticed that we have a surprise visitor, and they are not exactly making it very comfortable for us to study their motives. For instance, our satellites that were pointed to space got cut off. I was wondering if this was the same with you people, and to put this further - I was wondering if you could join us as an ally (maybe even a friend) in making sure that this possible invasion is thwarted? We mean well, we promise that. This might just be our very first war since nearly a century, if they were to attack us.

I understand that some of you might not have the means to communicate with us through other dimensions and worlds, so to make this easier, we will be coming back to your respective world in regular intervals, in 24 of our own hours. If you run a different clock or a planet, attached to this transmission is a video of how long a minute is [clock-one-minute.mp4]. There are 60 minutes in one hour. Hopefully you can play the video, what with the formatting issues and the like.

We are looking very forward to hear from you, and please do stay safe out there!

- Chief Aviator Gwen Tracer Hepburn “Fate of Existence and the Omniverse” Ellen Trixie Caitlin Foxworthy Avril Verlene Eveline Celinda Sammy Doris T-Rev Oxton Arielle Lindall Leslie Vitesse Allison.

[Sanhana]

Loading... Loading..... Loading........ Load complete.
General Mansour sighed softly into his coat as he gazed around the terminal he has been sat at all day, he looks for any entertainment, perhaps he could check on the current status of forces?

LOADING.... LOADING.... PLEASE STAND BY.

he gave another annoyed sigh, still pained from his relatively old age. Perhaps the AI was just slow today? He would never know for sure.


ARMED FORCES: ONLINE. IN COMBAT. COMBAT ZONE: BRAVO 9. (MACEDONIA)
AIR FORCES: ONLINE. IN COMBAT OVER THE SKYS OF ALBANIA
NAVAL FORCES: ONLINE. TRAINING
COVERT OPS: ONLINE. IDLE
NUCLEAR TASK FORCE: ONLINE. DEFCON 3 STILL VALID. 4 MISSILES READY TO LAUNCH
MILITARY AI: OFFLINE. UPDATING TO VERSION 1.1.5

he brushed his forehead slightly, the relief of everything being just as it was yesterday made him feel happier than anything else today. Although something did catch his eye slightly, The AI was offline? It never goes down even during times of updating. How suspicious....

BEEP! Alert, Type: Possible Mass hysteria warning.

Mass hysteria? That's a warning he almost never sees, what could this be about? A drug in the water perhaps?

Click

He clicked on it, then the most ominous warning he had ever seen popped up onto the monitor.

Hello, Staff. This is Azia Navasa Sending you this message.
We have reports that thousands of people have begun to claim that we exist in an alternate version of a supposed perfect earth, with some nations that we take for granted, including our own, being claimed as a fake or unreal nation. Axadonia and Tulenia have also been claimed to be fake versions of true nations.
Do not fall for this lie that is being spread, we know that our own universe is the only true one. Other universes only exist in math or in pseudo-science.

Kasib was amazed by the direct order he was given by the King... What is this? Why is this? How is this? He was out of his mind if there was actual other universes, what if there's a universal empire trying to take over all universes.... No.... That's an obvious lie that only a fictional story would have in it, or so he thought.

The monitor blared to life again, but this time just with a simple message from the AI, which has come back online from the Update

The result of the next battle will be the destruction of Sanhana.
OOC: (The ai is not a separate character. it's just a tool the generals use.)

What was this lie? was it a simple mistruth? It was such an enigma now, he had no idea what the AI could possibly mean with this message about the fate of the nation... He didn't even order a judgement on any future battles.... This made him fear everything around him, something he hasn't done in years.

He took initiative now, clicking around until he found it. a hidden Level 7 file. it was titled "In the event of the destruction of Sanhana." it was only to be opened with the complete agreement of the entire council of 300. Kasib was shivering in fear about what this was supposed to mean for him, perhaps he should open it? No.... he doesn't have clearance for the file...

What was there to do anymore? Nothing could fix this... Everything was cracking into bits for Kasib.

Sanhana will burn in the near future, and he is the only man who can put the match out... But he is held back from being able to get close to the match...

OOC: Edit was to fix a formatting issue.

[Planet zenickia]

planet M-12
The treacherous purple skies of M-12 were as violent as ever, meaning that it was complete chaos. Winds were reaching tremendous speeds not seen in decades, knocking over infanture not on par with the needs of the mining corporation controlling the planets fleet and defense. Smooth silver ships pierced the windy atmosphere to touch down in the middle of nowhere. A little port town in the polluted Zarbik sea. The town, known as Port Koms, was small and with a population of only 12,000. The three ships had interrupted the idyllic and tranquil order on the town, for the sole reason of the pilots and ships mysterious logo. A circle blacker than the eye could see was emblazoned on their starships, surrounded by columns of strange alien skulls found in local mythology.

These were the Travelmen, an ancient and mysterious people who knew all. The travelmen had seen the interior of black holes, understood the omniverse, and had answers to the questions every civilization had ever asked themselves. As the tall, floating figures drift through the snowy dock, a man in a grey overcoat rushes to them.

“Sirs, sirs, I am governor of Port Koms”
The travelemen shifted their visors to view the disturbance. One of the trio spoke up in a robotic whine.
What is the meaning of your intrusion? Make your cause clear to prevent our precious time from being wasted.
Governer Kakal had never been spoken to in such a way, and almost called for hisngaurd detail, but lucky for him, he abstained. If he had, he would certainly by vaporised.

“Yes sir… my name is Hobert Kakal, and-“
Irrelevant, my good man. Cut to the chase.
“Oh, yes. I have heard reports of a exterior force taking over the multiverse. Dangerous business, but you know all, you can surely confirm this? I have heard rumor, nothing more…

Spaceport Slak-7
Slak-7 was a vastly important investment for M-12. Years of work having materials materials shuttled into the atmosphere to build the port has culminated in planetwide celebration. Boasting a impressive defense system and sensor array, many thought that local oligarchs couldn’t touch the planet. However, when the communications and sensors of the station were shut down, the inhabitants knew something else had set it’s eyes on M-12. Millions of kilometers away, the main invasion fleet of battlecruisers cut through space to the defenseless planet. Multiple torpedoes flee towards key space outposts, including Slak-7. By days end, 130,000 space-dwellers lay dead, vaporised, drifting in space, and burnt.

Local garrisons fought valiantly, but could not contend with the invaders. Rubble filled the streets as walkers and soldiers consolidated power, and within a week, of the original 19,000,000 living on the planet, 700,000 had perished in the fighting. The news was relayed to the government, and Hajesh Sámö called an emergency meeting.

[Horde of One]

Tedranak System, Horde Space, Unnamed Galaxy

A lone ship entered the system. Cruising at a speed faster than that of light it extended it's metaphorical eyes surveying the aforementioned system for intelligent life. Life worth conquering. It found, at last, a small station. Immediately, it cast a dark blanket thorough the whole system, blocking every known method of Faster than Light communication.

The Drecha had arrived. And with them, war.

God'O'Man, Tikad System

O'Connor lowered his eyes to the busy streets below. The peasants, prophets, warriors, merchants, servants, hurrying with their meaningless lives. He was above such petty struggles. Literally. From atop his Tower everything and everyone seemed small, almost insignificant.

However, periodically there came the reminder that such hard earned power can still be lost. Sighing resignedly he turned away from the window to face the strange green stick-like figure in his room. "What do these aliens call themselves again?" He asked the robot.

"Valentians, High Listener. They propose an alliance. It seems they too had to deal with the unpleasant and sudden blackout of a system of theirs. And they have extra-universal origins." The serene voice exited from a network of openings on the middle of the stick automata.

O'Connor felt much less serene. Thousands of years as a powerful figure had left him almost paranoid. Knowing his power could be snatched away as easily as it had been gathered, every, however small it may seem, unpredictable event posed a danger. "And so is whatever is blocking our comms in Tedranak, I presume. We should, must indeed, prepare for conflict."

The stick shook a little to the left. "With whom?"

The High Listener frowned, bringing his symbiont to the neck. "I don't know. The Messengers will tell us. Open a channel"

The Stick shook, convulsed, and finally tangled himself into a vaguely prismatic form from which arose a very different voice than his own.

Obeyor, we listen. Speak.

O'Connor cleared his throat before speaking "It's about the Anomaly, Masters I-"

I/We know. The galaxy, the Universe , the whole Cosmos, is  entering a new cycle of chaos and war. It is ripe for a harvest, a culling of the unworthy.

He hated so much when they cut him off. Nonetheless he kept going "Yes, indeed. But who shall we aid in the culling? To stand against the Drecha and Valentian Coalition at once is..."

Feasible, if difficult. Let us Probe them. Send a message to the Drecha. Challenge them to ritual combat. If they prove worthy we will join their crusade. See it done."

O'Connor bowed slightly out of habit. "As you wish, Masters."

Vega System, Communications Nexus

Aboard the Nexus robotic servants crawled about, composing, receiving, sending encrypting, decrypting, messages from the four corners of the galaxy. The Messengers, as the name indicated, were quite keen on maintaining a way to deliver orders, threats and ultimatums to the four ends of the galaxy.

On that moment a stream of words and ideas made it's way to the Tedranak system in Pictograms, Numerical representation and Galactic Standart. Of content there was little, and easily understood:

We are the Horde of One, Messengers of the Cosmic Will. From what our mind has gathered, your race is one of warriors. We too are warriors. Indeed we are more than warriors: Protectors, tasked with purging the cosmos of all life unworthy of it's place in it.

We have also determined that a number of your shops has been conducting reconnaissance (or so it seems) operations through the multiple parallel universes, earning the ire of a great many nations. Fight them alone and death shall come to take her due.

We propose ourselves as allies. But we need guarantee that we are fighting for a worthy ally. Thus we would be honoured if you'd agree to a ritual combat, with rules that most suit your race and it's style of war.

May the Cosmos bless your voidships.

[Mirum]

Portmont, Mirum
The Presidential Bunker, Situation Room, ~500ft Below The Presidential Manor
Aug. 22nd, 2021
5:30 PM Local Time

"Madam President, I have an update on the situation," Minister Clearstone, of the MSI walked back into the room, which was empty, minus himself, President Elmspirit, and Vice President Huba, "We detected a second anomaly entering and exiting our system with our ground-based telescopes at about the range of Posideon*. It recently broadcast a message -in Common**- and left the system."

"Well then. Please share, Minister." President Elmspirit stated.

Minister Clearstone said nothing, pulled out the remote to the viewing monitor mounted on the wall, and turned it on. The screen was blank, minus a single text message.

Greetings to you, my fellow friends, or strangers,

If you receive this message, that probably means that you might be in the same trouble as us. I am Gwen Tracer Allison Oxton from Valentine Z, the nation that occupies another world's Earth and Mars in the Solar System. If all of these are alien to you, don't worry - this simply means that we are from another world. Anyway, I am not sure about you, but for us, we noticed that we have a surprise visitor, and they are not exactly making it very comfortable for us to study their motives. For instance, our satellites that were pointed to space got cut off. I was wondering if this was the same with you people, and to put this further - I was wondering if you could join us as an ally (maybe even a friend) in making sure that this possible invasion is thwarted? We mean well, we promise that. This might just be our very first war since nearly a century, if they were to attack us.

I understand that some of you might not have the means to communicate with us through other dimensions and worlds, so to make this easier, we will be coming back to your respective world in regular intervals, in 24 of our own hours. If you run a different clock or a planet, attached to this transmission is a video of how long a minute is [clock-one-minute.mp4]. There are 60 minutes in one hour. Hopefully you can play the video, what with the formatting issues and the like.

We are looking very forward to hear from you, and please do stay safe out there!

- Chief Aviator Gwen Tracer Hepburn “Fate of Existence and the Omniverse” Ellen Trixie Caitlin Foxworthy Avril Verlene Eveline Celinda Sammy Doris T-Rev Oxton Arielle Lindall Leslie Vitesse Allison.

"How polite." Vice President Huba remarked.

"How long ago was this received?" President Elmspirit questioned.

"Four hours and fifteen minutes ago."

"Send a reply when they return."

"Yes, Ma'am."

The reply message was drafted and written, and sent to the Large Mirian Space Observatory/Communication Network (LMSOCN) to be broadcast upon the return of the vessel from Valentine Z.

Hail and well met from the nation of Mirum, Ambassadors of Valentine Z,

We have received your message, and we can confirm the presence of the surprise visitor above our world as well. They have disabled our space-observing satellites as they have done to yours. We would be most comforted to join your coalition, as we too, are unsure of these visitor's motives. We appreciate your offer, and are honored to accept, and should those visitors decide to invade, we will stand with you.

Signed,
-President of Mirum, Lyra H. Elmspirit and Vice President of Mirum, Sindri Huba

---

TL;DR:
Message from Valentine Z received, new message set to be broadcast.

*Basically Neptune.
**Basically English.

[Drecha]

HOARDE SPACE

We are the Horde of One, Messengers of the Cosmic Will. From what our mind has gathered, your race is one of warriors. We too are warriors. Indeed we are more than warriors: Protectors, tasked with purging the cosmos of all life unworthy of it's place in it.

We have also determined that a number of your shops has been conducting reconnaissance (or so it seems) operations through the multiple parallel universes, earning the ire of a great many nations. Fight them alone and death shall come to take her due.

We propose ourselves as allies. But we need guarantee that we are fighting for a worthy ally. Thus we would be honoured if you'd agree to a ritual combat, with rules that most suit your race and it's style of war.

May the Cosmos bless your voidships.

The lone Starcruiser received a message from the subject it was surveying- the Starcruiser had been spotted. Yet its subject wanted no quarrel with it. A peculiar situation indeed, especially when the subject wanted an alliance. This, by Drecha The Eternal's standards, was acceptable. One either was a part of Drecha (via an alliance or literally a part of the nation) or was destroyed. Such were the ways of Drecha. A reply was sent to the potential allies, which stated:

May I introduce myself. I am called Drecha the Eternal. I will accept your request, on the grounds of ritual combat. If plausible, ground warfare shall be our combat theatre. Here are my terms: Five million ground troops and twenty-five hundred ground vehicles maximum. No atmospheric or space vehicles. No weapons of mass destruction. Should you agree, point my forces in that direction, and the ritual combat will commence.

---

OVER VALENTINE Z'S EARTH

Hello to you, and welcome to the world of Valentine Z,

If you are receiving this message, then that definitely means that you are in our world right now, like in our universe, and either you have our attention, or we just noticed something. In this case, it would be the former, even though both of them have a rather subtle difference. Anyway, whilst I am not here to accuse and point fingers, we have been getting an outage of our satellites lately, and I was wondering if you - our visitors - were responsible for this? We would not mind if that is the case, other than that we would appreciate it if you can turn it back on, unless it is a side effect of your spaceship's interdimensional wormholes that caused such a ripple for hours.

If it is no trouble and if you do not mean harm, please land your craft on the unoccupied moon Enceladus, of planet Saturn (the one with the ring), and send a transmission back to us too. It will mean a lot to us, and hopefully means that you are not here to invade us.

Once again, with warm welcome,
- Valentijn “De Sierlijke en Vrij Valkyrie General ov Valentine Z” Samantha Maxwell Delta Weston Stijn Angelus Tracey Mitchell Tristian Marnix Basilisk Lewis Hyatt X. Constantine Sein Lin Zaw Naing.

The Starcruiser over Earth (Valentine Z's Earth) received yet another transmission. How interesting. This nation wished to be left alone. Even though this world's inhabitants were quite polite, this could not be the case. One either was a part of Drecha or was destroyed. Such were the ways of Drecha. The Starcruiser did not move away. Instead, it moved into a Low Earth Orbit- well within firing range and visibility range. Stealth was no longer a concern, so intimidation was to be put in place, and reinforcements were already en-route. Such were the ways of Drecha.

---

ELSEWHERE, THROUGHOUT THE MULTIVERSE
The remaining survey Starcruisers initiated Phase 2 of Step 1 of the Invasion Procedure, and called for the reinforcements. This would take about four months, however, in the meantime, the Starcruisers began to plan on the invasion, moving ever closer to scout for the appropriate landing sites...

---

OOC: Once I get the reply from Horde of One (we can work out the specific details of what happened during the ritual combat via Telegram, if desired), and everyone who wants to do so responds to Val Z's message, I will initiate the 4-month time skip. Thank you for your patience.

[Sanhana]

What is truthful anymore? What is a lie? Is there a future?

Kasib had collected himself following the quick shock and awe of the last few hours on his earth with his terminal. Although, it appears that it's not all over for him yet, as he begins to hear a transmission through his headphones he had on to listen to covert ops transmissions

[Valentian Transmission.MP4]

He was stunned, he had just received this rapidly scary transmission, and he sat back. Afraid of what this had to mean....

What Azia had said was a lie was in fact the truth, perhaps what the ai said was true as well.

He could not believe it at all, there was a chance that he would die in a very shot about of time coming up from here, what was there to do? Fear more? Keep running away from the issue? No. He refuses this time to do so.

As such, he begins attempting a transmission in return. Firstly by attempting a direct response with the SMS (Sanhanan Messaging System.) which is what picked up the message and relayed it to him in the first place.

Hello. Person
I am Kasib Mansour, a general of the nation of Sanhana. We exist on an earth that is like the one you probably exist on. We are a large nation in the Sahara desert approximate of the year 2021.
I have received your message and have decided to respond to you using the only way my technology will let me.
I am intrigued in what you are talking about, as this is the first time our entire universe has learned of other universes, and it is causing mass hysteria here.
If you ever receive this message. Please tell us more. We want to know as much as we can

He was honestly afraid of what to come, he'd never know what would happen now. Nobody could ever know what would happen now.... Let us just hope that the world burns for but short moments before being put out.

The clock inches minutes closer to midnight. With the ongoing cold war only attempting to turn the clock further, will Sanhana survive, or shall it burn in the darkest depths of hell?

Summary and OOC: response to the Valentian message. Feel free to time skip, my part here is complete for now, and Sanhana is ready to fight to a bloody death.

[A m e n r i a]

Streets of Beijing

And why did they have to block satellite access? Couldn't they have announced their presence like the usual villain?

Flats line the streets, tall, white blocks of concrete sitting next to one another while a van drives slowly past. "Ying Yue, should we make a turn on the next intersection?" the driver said, leaning back at his seat and glancing at his partner next to him. She had her phone up and a navigation app on the screen, which suddenly had a popup appear. "Eh, what's this? Maps is not available at this time, please check your internet connection? I still have my internet package the last I checked. Let me test my connection." The van pulled over as she opened her browser and tapped on one of the bookmarks saved on it. The site loaded normally, pictures and all. "Strange, my browser works just fine. Try using the map app on your phone." He did as she suggested, showing his screen to her with the same popup. "Nope, nothing on my phone either. I'm gonna go out and ask for directions." As he reached the door with one arm, she held his other arm. "No, I'll go. I'm supposed to be the navigator anyways." with that, Ying Yue exited the car and walked to the nearest person as her partner scrolled on his phone.

Somewhere in the Ministry of Interdimensional Research and Development HQ

Men and women sat behind banks of consoles and screens, until one of them received a transmission. He raised his hand and looked back at his supervisor. "Sir, I'm receiving a transmission from off-universe! Turning on speakers now!"

Greetings to you, my fellow friends, or strangers,

If you receive this message, that probably means that you might be in the same trouble as us. I am Gwen Tracer Allison Oxton from Valentine Z, the nation that occupies another world's Earth and Mars in the Solar System. If all of these are alien to you, don't worry - this simply means that we are from another world. Anyway, I am not sure about you, but for us, we noticed that we have a surprise visitor, and they are not exactly making it very comfortable for us to study their motives. For instance, our satellites that were pointed to space got cut off. I was wondering if this was the same with you people, and to put this further - I was wondering if you could join us as an ally (maybe even a friend) in making sure that this possible invasion is thwarted? We mean well, we promise that. This might just be our very first war since nearly a century, if they were to attack us.

I understand that some of you might not have the means to communicate with us through other dimensions and worlds, so to make this easier, we will be coming back to your respective world in regular intervals, in 24 of our own hours. If you run a different clock or a planet, attached to this transmission is a video of how long a minute is [clock-one-minute.mp4]. There are 60 minutes in one hour. Hopefully you can play the video, what with the formatting issues and the like.

We are looking very forward to hear from you, and please do stay safe out there!

- Chief Aviator Gwen Tracer Hepburn “Fate of Existence and the Omniverse” Ellen Trixie Caitlin Foxworthy Avril Verlene Eveline Celinda Sammy Doris T-Rev Oxton Arielle Lindall Leslie Vitesse Allison.

The man turned to look at his supervisor again, who nodded at him, silently giving him approval to respond, to which he nodded back and turned on his speakers, tuning in to the same frequency the message was broadcasted in, with an obvious dongbei accent.

"Hello, miss Gwen, I am Sun Min from the Empire of Amenria. We have confirmed the same disturbance to our satellites as well as those form foreign countries, however, we have yet to confirm whether or not it came from the same sourcce. Your message has been received is currently being relayed to the Patriarchs and Matriarchs of our Noble Families, who are conducting an emergency meeting.." just as he said that, all satellite imagery returned, proving the foreigner right, as a woman behind another screen reported. "Okay, now we have confirmed a singular alien vessel, which we have not yet determined to be hostile. You will be hearing from the Exalted One the Heavenly Emperor himself soon. God protect you, Miss Gwen."

Green: spoken in Chinese
Blue: spoken in English

[Californian Fallen Angels]

Former United States, Dead Earth
March 8, 2072 CE, 12 Years After The Apocalypse

From space, Dead Earth appeared to be covered in thick, gray-black clouds that blanketed the planet, lazily swirling through the stratosphere. Precious little of the surface could actually be seen through these thick clouds, and what few gaps existed revealed expanses of tundra, barren deserts, choking midnight blue oceans, and a number of angry yellow-orange lights that shimmered furiously from the surface. Clouds of debris encircled the planet, a boneyard of tens of thousands of man made satellites choking out the sky. Amidst the boneyard lie many dozen space stations lonely floating about in states of severe disrepair.

Humboldt Redwoods State Park, California
Time: 1900 Hours

Thud. The wheels of the jury rigged Humvee struck a broken piece of asphalt along the derelict road. The journey had not been long, but it had been very rough. Eventually, the ramshackle vehicle arrived at a forested area, filled with towering redwood trees. Several people exited the vehicle. The first was the driver, a grizzled man in a woodland camouflage uniform and camouflage face paint, with a cybernetic left arm. He wore a Ceradyne IHPS combat helmet, an Excelsi ALDSLE advanced body armor, and a pair of ranger boots. He had two chest holsters attached to his PALS webbing, along with several grenades and shotgun shells. From inside the vehicle he grabbed an Ithaca 37 Stakeout shotgun. The second and third people to exit the vehicle were twins, each one wearing woodland camouflage, a TeyoTek LPAS body armor and helmet, and an AR-15 rifle. A fourth person exited the passenger's seat, an older woman in camouflage rags sewn together into a cloak, carrying a long staff made from some otherworldly, pitted black wood.

Lastly, a duo left the Humvee from the back; a man with shoulder length black hair, wearing sunglasses and a three-piece black suit and tie, and a young woman with a single cybernetic eye, wearing a black leather jacket and black jeans.

"I still don't see why we had to bring you two along." complained the man with the cybernetic arm, as he withdrew a cigarette from a pack in his pocket and lit it with a Zippo lighter.

"Isn't it obvious, Pearson?" said one of the twins. "They don't trust us to finish the mission. That's why they sent John Doe or whatever his name is to babysit us. And his killer robot pet."

"That's Honest John Doe. It's a name you can trust." said the man in the suit smugly. He used the last bit of his cigarette to light a new one. He inhaled the smoke deeply. The young woman with the cybernetic eye glared daggers at the twins and clenched her teeth.

"Whatever. We have a mission to complete. Brass says there's intel that squatters are living out here in the woods. Investors think this would be a good place to put a lumber mill." Pearson said, taking a deep breath from his cigarette. "Previous attempts to drive out the squatters have failed. You know the drill team, kill all the squatters and we can get home for dinner."

Suddenly, a pallid figure emerged from the trees, dressed in tattered, bloody rags, hobbling over to the Humvee and the security forces there. The figure was bald, sickly pale, and had clusters of small, dark red spots around its face and arms, with general redness around the mouth and extremities. Twelve more similar figures emerged from the trees, in a surprisingly fast limp. An odd sparkle of hunger glimmered in their otherwise milky, cataracted eyes.

"Shit, it's lurkers! Don't shoot them, we don't want to give away our position!" Pearson growled. As one of the lurkers approached Pearson, the soldier punched the mutant squarely in the jaw with his cybernetic arm. The jaw gave with a sickening crunch, and warm blood dribbled from the mutant's mouth.

Meanwhile, the twins struggled against the lurkers, trying to fend them off with boxcutters. One lurker grabbed at one of the twins' arms, the gnarled fingers ripping at fabric and drawing blood. The other twin shoved that lurker away, and it stumbled backwards. A lurker leapt at the first twin from behind, pinning her down, and sunk its teeth into her neck. Blood gushed from the wound like a fountain as she screamed, before going silent. The other twin hacks at the lurker's neck with her own boxcutter, and the lurker slumps over as blood sprays all over the surviving twin.

Concurrently, the older woman kept the lurkers at bay with her staff. One of the lurkers tried grabbing the middle of the staff, attempting to wrest it away. The woman's hair lashed out at the lurker as if a prehensile limb, and gave a stinging swat at the lurker's hand, which let go. The woman followed this up with a wide swing of her staff, the end of which connected with the lurker's head, caving it in with a sickening crunch, as the lurker's body immediately went limp.

The young woman with the cybernetic eye draws a butterfly knife from her back pocket, and casually flips it out. As one of the lurkers shuffles towards her, she calmly sidesteps out of the way, and plunges the butterfly knife into the lurker's throat with an ice pick grip, piercing through arteries and deep into the spine. She pulls the blade out, getting drenched in blood as it sprays out, and the lurker collapses over. As she notices a lurker approaching Honest John, she suddenly approaches from an angle to intercept, taking the lurker by surprise as she plunges the butterfly knife into the lurker's eye. She elbowed the lurker away as she pulled the knife out of the socket.

"Are you alright?" the young woman asked, her voice slightly tinny.

"Thanks to your quick thinking, yes, I am." Honest John said taking a long drag from his cigarette.

As the squad recovered from their sudden encounter with lurkers, they assessed the situation. The ground was littered with limp, lifeless, broken bodies, and stained crimson with blood. One of their own was grievously injured in the attack, and was likely dead.

"John, you're a powerful wizard or something, right? Can you save her?" asked the surviving twin.

"I told you already, it's Honest John. And no, it's too late for her. She's already bled out. There's nothing I can do." replied Honest John. He briefly removed his cigarette from his mouth, and took a sip from his hip flask. "We have a mission to complete. There will be time to mourn later."

"Like fucking hell we do! That was my sister, damn it! And you just want us to move on?" the surviving twin yelled. "Is there anything you're even good for, John?"

"Are you being insubordinate?" Honest John asked without raising his gaze.

"Maybe I am!" the twin yelled. She ran up to Honest John, and slammed her fist towards his chest. The young woman with the cybernetic eye caught her wrist, then quickly applied torque. The twin screamed loudly, followed by a sickening cracking as the wrist was made to rotate 360 degrees.

"Thank you again, 106." Honest John said. "Pearson, tie her up. She'll be reviewed when we get back to Redding."

Pearson grumbled. "Fine." He retrieved some zip ties from the jury-rigged humvee and tied up the twin, who was struggling and screaming. A scrap of denim cloth was wrapped around her mouth to gag her.

Humboldt Redwoods State Park, California
Time: 1905 Hours

Several items were retrieved from the humvee, including a hatchet, four bear traps, and four aerosol canisters taped together with a short metal rod sticking out between them.

The squad approached several ramshackle shacks in the forest, made from sheets of corrugated metal. They set up bear traps amidst the trees. Then, Pearson stuck the metal rod of the aerosol canisters into the ground, carefully trying to aim it in the direction of one of the shacks, the heads of the aerosol cans pointed near the ground. Pearson pulled out his Zippo lighter, and positioned his body away from the heads of the aerosol cans. 106 approached with the hatchet.

"On the count of three, make sure you have it lit." 106 said. "One, two, three!" the young woman swung the hatchet down on the heads of the aerosol cans, which rapidly began spraying out. This spray quickly made contact with the flames of the lighter, and became a jet of flame, forcing the aerosol cans off the ground as a rocket, spiraling wildly as they went. It hit the roof of one of the shacks, and went up in a fireball explosion, spewing flames and bits of hot aerosol can.

However, nothing happened. There was no response from the shacks. Nobody emerged.

Humboldt Redwoods State Park, California
Time: 1915 Hours

"You don't reckon they aren't home?" Pearson asked.

"Split up and look for them. Report in over comms if you find anything." Honest John ordered.

"Our squad's missing half our troops. Are you sure?" Pearson asked, concerned.

"Positive." Honest John replied.

Humboldt Redwoods State Park, California
Time: 1920 Hours

Over the next several minutes, the squad scoured the camp site, looking for any trace of where the squatters may have gone. Comms were kept relatively quiet as the squad focused on the task, ever aware that the squatters could be lying in wait for them.

There was suddenly a single crack of a gunshot, and Pearson felt a sharp, burning pain through his skull for a split second, before collapsing over, dead. As he fell onto the icy ground, the last thing he saw was 106 standing over his body, holding a Beretta 695 Leopard pocket pistol.

"Sorry sweetie, but Mr. Honest John needs you dead." 106 said softly to Pearson's corpse.

Shortly after, one of the bear traps went off, catching the older woman as she tried to escape.

"Honest John, why? Why! You are the Tophel liaison! I have been nothing but a faithful follower! Why would you do this?" the older woman cried and begged.

"It's nothing personal. You sold your souls to the Tophel, and they wanted me to cash them in." Honest John said coldly. "You worked as a shaman, channeling the magic of the Tophel Clan. The Tophel Clan needs you on the other side now. Something about powering a lantern, I think."

"No! No, please no!" the shaman cried out. Honest John grabbed her black staff, and used it to prod her face into a bear trap. Her facial bones gave way to the metal teeth. She continued screaming for a few more minutes, before going silent.

Humboldt Redwoods State Park, California
Time: 1923 Hours

106 returned up the hill. "I got Pearson for you, Mr. Honest John. Hauled his cadaver up here for you, like you wanted."

"Good. Pile up all the dead bodies. And put our prisoner on top of the pile." said Honest John. He lit another cigarette, and removed a ouija board from his coat pocket. 106 left to go pile all the bodies up.

Humboldt Redwoods State Park, California
Time: 1935 Hours

The cadavers were all piled up, of the dead lurkers, the twin, the shaman, an Pearson. The prisoner lie atop the corpses, squirming fruitlessly, her screams muffled by her gag.

"What happens now, Mr. Honest John?" 106 asked.

"Now? Now I call my lawyer. Go check the radio, make sure we don't miss anything." Honest John said.

106 turned on the radio in the jury rigged humvee while Honest John continued fiddling with the ouija board. Across many channels, there was little but static. 106 continued fiddling with the radio, trying to find a signal, any signal.

As Honest John Doe finished with the ouija board, a fluorescent green pentacle appeared on the ground, glowing brightly. Lime colored flames shot upward fiercely from the pentacle, and discordant and cacophonous xylophone-like notes could be heard, not playing out any recognizable melody. Just as soon as it appeared, the flames and pentacle vanished, leaving behind a shapely female figure in a black pinstripe suit. Despite this, she had a distinctly nonhuman appearance, with long horns, a pair of leathery, bat-like wings, pink skin, clawed hands and taloned feet, and bright red eyes with inverted pentagrams seemingly etched onto her irises, through which her slit pupils peered out of, and a long, prehensile tail ending in a spade point. She smiled, her mouth full of conical, needle-like fangs.

"Glad you could make it, Sathuzixaniel. My partner and I have prepared the host body for you." Honest John said.

[color=#FF66FF]"Yes, good. We are ahead of schedule." the demon replied, her voice soft, like poisoned silk.

The demon vanished. Less than a second later, the prisoner began violently convulsing. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she shook as if in a seizure. The zip ties cut deep into her wrists and ankles, drawing forth trickles of blood, before finally snapping. The prisoner's head jerked back and forth, and the denim rag used as a gag fell off. A thin foam ushered forth from the prisoner's open mouth. Limbs spasmed and contorted, until breaking with nauseating sounds. Screams echoed out as skin began boiling and bubbling, popping like tiny, blood-filled balloons. The prisoner's jaw unhinged, cheeks ripping open like a Glasgow grin, and the screams became increasingly inhuman. Flesh liquefied, and mixed with the cadavers underneath, as the whole structure began mingling, aggressively mutating, further contorting and deforming, taking on shapes that were a disturbing blend of human and nonhuman alike. The amalgam of bodies grew horns and spikes, and long, gnarled claws from its many hands. Large wings grew from the awful thing, made from far too long fingers.

"How's your new body, Sathuzixaniel? Is it up to your standards?" Honest John asked.

"This could work." the amalgam of bodies purred. It raised one of its many arms, flesh and machine melded in ways they were never intended.

"Mr. Honest John! Ms. Sathuzixaniel! You should probably hear this!" 106 cried out in alarm. She finally found a signal, though the message came through unclear, with heavy static.

"If you... ...probably means that you... [static] ...in... ...trouble... Gwen... ...Valentine... [static] ...alien... [static] ...world. Anyway, I am not... ...a surprise visitor... ...making it... ...comfortable for us... satellites that were... ...space... [static] ...join us... invasion... [static] ...war... ...attack..."

"What." Honest John said flatly.

"How unexpected. This could cause some trouble for our plans." Sathuzixaniel stated. The radio continued/

"...you might not... ...with... ...dimensions... ...we will be coming back... [static] ...planet, attached to... [̵͓͕̲̀̕̕c҉҉͖̯̼̰ļ̧͍͍͙̞̰̝̫̰̘̹̦̹̤̹͕ͅͅò͏̟̞͖͈̲̦͍̲̪̯̫͓̞͘̕ͅc̵͇̬̻̮͔̠̞͎̤̗̘̝͕̗̣̭̺̱̕ͅk̵͍͕̳̲̖̣̭̼̕ͅ-̶͔̳̰̯͇͝o̖͕̙͕̞͟n̷̛̦̱̲̹͉͉͜e͕͙̩̺̰̮̞͖̺͘͜ͅ-̸̶̡̞̥̭̺͟͡m̡̭̥̣̝͍̜̜̀͢i̸̠͎̩̘̩͈̝͙̙͈̱̥͉̺ṇ̫̪̳̤̮͓͈̠̝̠̹̗̬͉̗̻̕ư̸͉̘̮̱̙̳̺͍͢͢t҉̨̧͈͙̟̦͔̹̱̹̯͇̙͕̠͙̝̟͎̜̀͝ͅȩ̗͉̫̯̳͈͍̬͎͚͓̘̖͙̥̫͉͇́̕͜.̴̨͙͕̳̱̦̝̲̺̜̯͇̺̺̥m̷̧͏̡̠͕̜̰̹̬̩̩̥̟͕̺͙͎p̵̛͉͚͖̳̠̦̲̭͔̜̬̩̕͞͞4͔̣͓̹̕͝͞]҉̧͈̘̰̰̼̦̯̼̠͓̭̱̮͠͠͝. ...formatting... looking... hear from you... [static]"

"So, what's the plan now?" asked 106.

"I'm not sure. I think I'll have to consult with the Tophel Clan. And I'm sure Ms. Satan will want to know about this, assuming she didn't hear it too." said Honest John, showing a rare emotion: worry.

Key

---

#CF2242 = Pearson
#248046 = Rifleman Twin
#6363EF = Honest John Doe
#EF349A = AGN-51 M71 A14L7Y-321AP-HV-106
#828242 = Shaman
#FF66FF = Sathuzixaniel
#3366FF = Chief Aviator Gwen Tracer Hepburn “Fate of Existence and the Omniverse” Ellen Trixie Caitlin Foxworthy Avril Verlene Eveline Celinda Sammy Doris T-Rev Oxton Arielle Lindall Leslie Vitesse Allison (QUOTED ONLY)

[Inner Planets]

Mars, 1927 (Inner Planets universe)

Trooper: "Sir, I've found something.
Captain: "What is it? Gold? Alien tech?"
Trooper: "I'm not sure... It looks like a... landing pad?"
Captain: "How odd. Must be Martian. Well, I suppose we can capture it and then we'll be on our way."
Trooper: "Should I contact base?"
Captain: "I suppose."
Trooper: "Wait- what's that?"
Captain "Whatever do you mea- oh no."

The duo look up and see a Drechanian starcruiser, fresh out of hyperspace, searching for nations to dominate. The Trooper contacts their base, notifying them of the hulking spaceship hovering over the Martian surface. A Battlegroup is dispatched and arrives in 15 minutes. The Drechanian starcruiser quickly destroys them.

Captain: "OH GOD! WE'RE DOOMED!"
Trooper: "Calm down sir! I'll just call a dreadnought!"
Captain: "Will that help?"
Trooper: "Maybe..? I don't know, You're supposed to be the brave one."
Captain: "What's that light?"
Trooper "What li-"

The duo evaporate due to a shot from the starcruiser. It moves on towards the trenches, looking for any traces of civilisation. The Royal Navy was quickly notified.
Inner Planets had come across Drecha.
Earth was in danger.
For the first time, they were the underdogs.

[The Arkiv]

Chapter: That which is not dead(And that which may soon be)

As what was happening across so many other worlds, both sharing and not sharing the same cosmos, a lone Drechan Starcruiser quietly slipped into a system.
It very quickly ascertained that the typical method of entry would not work.

The system was swarming with spacecraft, the shine of countless fusion torches like moving stars all on their own. The great stellar body at the center of the system was partly smothered by hovering plates of solar collectors, and the immense energies they harvested were beamed across the system by immense laser arrays. The worlds of this system, five in total, were of the same ilk, albeit of varying size. All were terrestrial, with an atmosphere of primarily inert gasses. Temperatures were incredibly low on these planets, as the thin atmospheres and active geo-engineering cooled them to frankly unreasonable points. On the surface of these worlds, immense geysers of molten nickel indicated the location of underground industry, but the most notable feature was the oceans.

Each planet was coated in an ocean of blackness. Occasionally, a mountain or towering monolith of unknown purpose would extrude from the uniform surface, but the oceans were immense, and eerily still. The Starcruiser could detect no life signs on any of these structures. A mechanical race, perhaps? Or merely automatons tottering about on half-forgotten orders from long-dead masters?

This question was answered when the Starcruiser was hailed.
The message was simple. A series of pictographs, depicting what appeared to be a description of the beings of this system, followed by an inquiry as to who the Starcruiser was.
The description stated that the inhabitants were the oceans. That they pursued the secret of perfection. That they were seekers of knowledge-and would give freely if the Starcruiser had any of its own.

They called themselves the Arkiv.

[Ausslaugand]

22nd August 2021
Bruwelle, Ausslaugand
President Leo H.R. Wellington

---

Nighttime arrived rather slowly upon Western Europe.

The Ausslaugandian judiciary capital of Bruwelle - better known by its romanticised spelling as 'Brussels' - was greeted by a cold soothing rainfall. But up and beyond the clouds, there was a full moon, shining brightly despite the dreary caliginous weather. From afar, it was lonely little mistress, orbiting around the dark side of the Earth.

On the moon's dark side, however, an almond-shaped probe laid hidden on the lunar surface. Powered by several RTGs and retaining sleek, featureless, albeit mottled grey, exterior, the probe was invisible from all angles. Beneath its protective plating, redundant electronic listening and scanning equipment were cramped together, scanning the moon and outer space for the slightest movement, noise, or interference.

Connected with other identical probes via underground landlines, the probe was part of a classified intelligence network created and operated in extreme secrecy by Ausslaugand. This particular probe, recently installed in late 2019, was one of the last components of the network, allowing the system to fully come online in August 2020. Now, the network was running a routine scan, having entered its 'first' anniversary.

At 0101 hours, however, the network began to receive something...

[Shwe Tu Colony]

Thryllasian Region, Parfuhmerie-Psytronius Link, The Floating City-State of Psytronius, Comms Capital
Another ping. Alexandra Marconi's Soul dove through the wires, the weaves, coming to rest in the monitors. Lost some other satellite in some allied state or some other — seemed quite a few had been going down, recently. Rumors abounded, of course, that it was something or someone, but they had already sold and sent out their replacements to be fired into space anytime between in a minute to a few days, so it wasn't really the Psytrines' concern. Not yet, at least. If they were downed again, that'd be more cause for concern since most notable space events wouldn't just hit twice, but for now, it'd be just fine.
She queued up another satellite order for Archedama to produce; moments later, he affirmed it, sent it, and that was that. Back at her base, she felt Jeremy's chilled hand touch one of her terminals, and she hurried back.

"Good day, Jeremy."
"Could you tell Zurv and Maxwell to fight with less vigor?" Jeremy said, glancing down at his tablet. "Johan has been complaining about the noise."
"Understood." She flew through the wires again, through crystal-weaves mixed with only the best copper from their sci-fi allies; distant, muffled conversations found their ways through the thick walls, Domeses and guests and Foreigners alike browsing, wandering. They had teleportation devices, of course, but there was time enough to walk around and enjoy the sandstone-yellow halls, bristling with guard Golems and panels where weaponry would poke out from in desperate times, times that have never come in the five centuries of the floating city-state's life, but it was better to be prepared.
Even in her semi-physical form, she could still feel a rumble worming its way through the walls, heard some manner of boyish yell. She was close.

"For the glory—"
"Shut up!"
Krboom!
Now that was a bad sign. She surged through the wires now, melting into existence in a crackle of electricity inside of the sparring halls, now ripped in half by a gorge of exploding fireworks and lava, one side dominated by a raging inferno and the other by eight white wings converged around someone, something.
"My dear apprentices," Alexandra said, "might you please calm down your battle?"

The wings unfurled, exposing the godly white apparel of Maxwell, held up by his lower two wings. "Heavens no!"
"Like he—"
Now, the wings curled in, then blasted outwards, sending barrages of white and lodging them all across the floor, the walls, bouncing up into the roof, into the flames, a few towards Alexandra who faded away, another array towards Zurv who burned it all in a whip-blaze. Moments later, the feathers burst into blasts of shining white Faith-foam, and Alexandra threw her head upwards, and out came a salvo of radio waves. That was enough; six of the wings spasmed, curled up, and shrank away into Maxwell's back, while Zurv fell to the floor, his magma-hair petrifying.
"Dang it, Alexandra..." The Xeros lobbed his hand towards her, sending a fizzling firework towards her that extinguished and fell to the floor long before it could get close.

Alexandra stared down at where it had fallen, letting a beat past before she raised her head to the two boys. "As I was saying, Johan was requesting that you two fight less severely. You have been disturbing him."
"Sorry, miss," Maxwell said, stumbling back to his feet. "It's just Zurv—"
"As I said, I would be getting the lava cakes later, after Johan was done so we could bring them home to the others nice and ho—"
"I wanted them to eat during—"
A floe of lava erupted beneath Zurv, launching him upwards and melting his hair into a volcanic eruption. "Shut up, you stupid—"

Another pulse of radio, and both boys stumbled where they stood, with Zurv's hair calming down into a pool of lava. "Please remain calm," she ordered, her own wire-hairs flying in the wind as regular pulses of disruptive radio waves pulsed out from her. "As I said, we shouldn't be so loud."
Both boys nodded rapidly, and Alexnadra's wire-hairs fell back down. "If the temperature of the lava cakes is the issue," she said, sliding towards them, "I can have Sousundowa prepare containers, although why—"
"Max called me a thermos."
"I..." The Angel's wings twitched, and he covered himself with his wings. "Okay, maybe I did, but Pallas and Anthos do too."
"At least they aren't jerks about it— you're always like 'hey, thermos, can you keep my bocadillo de calamares hot?' and that's all you say to me!" He thrashed his head downwards, and a wheel of lava spewed forth. For a moment, it spun in place.

And, as Alexandra lifted her head, the wheel soared on the floor, letting loose a shower of burning orange and ripping sandstone panels away as molten chunks flew away into the air. On the other side, Maxwell flapped once, twice, and the wheel sped past him. He half-sworder, turning his weapon into something of a coached Lance, and soared towards his opponent. Behind him, the spinning lava-wheel spun in place, and a barrage of fireworks fired out.
"Halt."
Alexandra's wires burst out from her head and spiraled in front of and behind Maxwell. His shatter of steel upon it merely tapped it forward, while behind him, the lava wheel scorched the other end of the spiral. "Was I not clear?" Now, the spiral swirled in and converged, and Maxwell yelped as the cold rubber insulation wrapped him into a cocoon and left him wriggling on the ground, his wings flapping pointlessly. Meanwhile the wires at the base of the curve split in two, creating a second spiral that whipped towards Zurv.
"Gwah!" An explosion of lava erupted from his head and the magma inside of him seared orange, but it did nothing to the spiral that wrapped around him moments later.

Both were now in Alexandra's wires, and she reeled them in like wriggling, shouting fish behind her. For a few seconds of dry amusement, she watched them flop up and down. One moment, she felt the feathery elysium of Maxwell's wings. The next, it was Zurv gurgling as a stream of lava spewed from his mouth, while molten rock poured through the slips of the wires.
How annoying. Floating speakers slipped out from the bindings, snaked their way next to both boys, and bellowed out a sonorous cry, dazing them as stars spun round and round their heads.
"You boys..." she muttered, linking one leg towards the Capital's wires. Once it connected, she sent part of herself through it, towards the auditorium, where she could hear the conversation between the boyish, but high-pitched voice of Johan, and the swift pace of Hanna's, mixed in with a few strums of the strings on her squid-like hood — the Hadal version of hair.
"So then... yeah, yeah..."

"You two." Alexandra reached towards the wires. "Hold on tight."
"Hold—"
Before Zurv could finish, she dove through the wires, emerging seconds later next to an auditorium chair, where she set her rolled-up Apprentices. She turned to the stage, but glanced back when she heard Zurv's volcanic gurgling. Again; she forgot that he got motion sickness easily. This time, though, he was erupting it off to the side, letting it flow towards her legs. She'd need to get Hallveig to clean that up...
"Oh, Ms. Alexandra!" It was Johan, waving from atop the stage. "I know time is up, and all, and that we'll be going to the Shirnijing base soon, but do you think we could stay for a bit longer? Anthos took Raven and Alice away to the gardens." Behind him, Hanna had her hood pulled across the lap, her fingers absently plucking away at it, with two discarded violins and viola next to her. "Oh, Ms. Alexandra," Johan said, leaning precariously on one foot to look behind her, "is Zurv okay—"

"Motion sickness is all."
A twirl of his mace-staff and a steel bucket appeared nearby as the boy spun and landed on his other foot. "Still? I thought he'd be getting better."
"The... earth moves naught!" Zurv thrashed in his bindings, and the wires puffed outwards as a radiant orange grew at his chest, as he coughed out a few bubbles of lava. A second passed, and the bubbles turned to a waterfall, then a deluge that drenched his wire prison. It still did little, and the others simply watched, waiting for him to finally pause his tantrum.
Johan gestured to his bucket, and Alexandra nodded. So, he set it down, flicked his fingers, and a blindfolded laborer manifested from the bucket; the man wordlessly stepped towards the lava, bucket in hand, cast a spell to siphon it all in a second, and vanished into nothing.
"That bucket must have seen a lot."

"It has, yeah. We've had it since last year, I think..." He picked it up and stared at it, his eyes gleaming with analytical spells. "Yeah, last year. Hallveig used it a few times in front of me, and that was enough to make the memory. Just wish we could get a way for Zurv to, you know..."
Hanna leaned back on her chair. "I think it's just that Alexandra sucks at transporting him."
"Pardon?" the Domeses's eye gleamed red.
"Come on, miss, I said what I said. It happened when Li'orz drove him in Shwe."
"Oh, that—"
A blast of lava knocked him to the floor, and Hanna strummed the strings on her hood. A barrage of notes flew towards Zurv; Alexandra watched as they sealed his mouth with a bouquet of stony roses, their petals burning bright orange, as though feeding on the lava within him.

"All right, that should keep him nice and settled," Hanna said. "Anyway, Anthos and the rest should be here... soon."
The Domeses shrugged and watched as the Apprentice strummed her guitar-hood a few times, sending out a wave of notes to Johan. "There's no big hurry yet... although, that does remind me, where is Seikilos? She was teaching you two, wasn't she?"
"She left fast." Hanna flashed an awkward smile. "Guess she had somewhere to be today."
"Very well, then." A glance at Zurv, squirming away in his chair. "I entrust that you'll take care of these three?"

Johan, the clothes on his back still steaming hot, bounded close to her, then awkwardly bounced a step away, almost tripping on his staff-mace. If Hanna noticed, she said and did nothing, perhaps still considering if she could manage to take care of the two boys that had moments before been trying to kill each other. Whatever the case, when Johan set his staff on the ground, she turned, their eyes locked, they nodded, and she looked back, invigorated by whatever spark ignited between the two of them.
"Johan and I will definitely be able to handle them," she said.
Alexandra nodded, slipped into the wires, and left for the Comms Capital.

Thryllasian Region, Parfuhmerie-Psytronius Link, The Floating City-State of Psytronius, Comms Capital, Later in the Comms Capital
Ping.
Another satellite? Only, this one had the echoing ding, ding, ding of a Psytine one going down — and that, of course, was cause for concern enough. A few taps later...
A newcomer had registered. Something or someone had broken into World Machine, just above Shirnijing.
Just above Huang-Penglai.
"Atmosphere Squadron, Domeses of Introduction," she said, "please be prepared to move out. We have detected a novel Foreign signature." Distantly, she could detect Stribog's winds, the booming of storms on the horizon, the ominous whirring of Becquerel. Then, Hermes-Hina.

"We're preparing to teleport," he said. "Could you inform the Monarchs to get ready?"
"Understood." A beat passed. "Sent." Another pause. "All Xian and Adventurers in the city have been notified, and are waiting in the city in the event of further trouble. Please prepare the Domeses for transport."
From the other end, she heard a sound of fabric tearing, the same roaring winds and storms, and then silence. From another link, she heard Jeremy. "Atmosphere and Introduction are both present in the Shirnijing, on the peak-branches, approximately five-hundred miles from the ship, estimated gap-close to be no more than a few seconds if trouble arises. Introduction are being transported by shielded nullification-type platform, slowly ascending as to not cause trouble. Estimated time of arrival, a few minutes." A pause; he was being messaged. "We have furthermore received reports that Eglantyne and Calvin should be ready in the event of disaster. The Monarchs are beginning to grow their tree with an approximate medium power usage, and they say that they may need help to overgrow their tree to protect the city, if this newcomer is hostile. I have already relayed it."
"Understood." She manifested from her wires and stared at the screens in front of her. "Sending standard greeting."

Code: Select all

This is a test radio message. Please respond to this signal with an affirmative message if it can be received.

If it failed or she received no response, she would try sending her message via a series of encoded lasers nearby the starship — lasers that were clearly too weak to inflict any sort of damage, but were magically enhanced to be visible to the starship's Foreigner signature, a signature that of course revealed little other than "unknown," but it was good enough for the purposes of aiming it.
Meanwhile, the Atmosphere Squadron waited at Huang-Penglai's tree, which stretched to a mile above the ground. Aside from a few branches, its crown had clustered most of the leaves around the trunk's column, a clear attempt to limit how much it covered the sunlight of the land below. Some sort of unwalled gazebo, carved out of the tree itself, sprawled out among the branches, and four enormous railways walled by the tree's wood ran up the sides and into the gazebo like some sort of bizarre xylem. One train, if that bizarre mass of convulsing wood crawling upward could be called such, was already running, its back laden with assorted cargo.
But now, it began to grow. In mere seconds, the edges of the enormous branches perhaps miles wide split into twos, threes, fours, dozens, each producing a great array of leaves that shimmered in the sun like metal. Vast swathes of the city underneath were beginning to be covered by the canopy; the Penglairean version of a city-sized shield, it seemed. The roots closer to the ground, meanwhile, did not seem to be growing at all.

Huang-Penglai
Yuki sighed as she threw away her empty bramble-cup into the trash can. Of all the times someone had to break into World Machine, it had to be the day she planned with her friends: go to the movies to see a new film from that Friglan director, then to the mall, maybe hitchhike a run with the Adventurers back down to Four Saints if she had the time...
She glanced at the crystal in her robe's breast pocket, sending a message to her friends, and grabbed the edges of her cloak to then pull it in, shrouding herself in the realm of the dead and bygone. When she unraveled her cloak, she then found herself in front of her father, with his long, flowing robes and his mirror spinning and levitating just above his hand. Whether lost in thought or asleep while standing, he stayed silent as his daughter appeared in front of him.

Then, the mirror landed in his hands, and he opened his eyes, looking up. "Haven't had this sort of drama in ages, have we? Usually they land outside of a city, not just above." He rotated it in his hands, and a book, its cover decorated by a pair of fox tails, shined inside of it. "The other Xian are already moving into their positions."
Yuki reached inside of her cloak and took out her own book, decorated with a black, bleeding heart. "And what will we be doing?"
"We're one of the few with enough range to directly hit them reliably." He tossed his mirror into the air, where it spun, then paused, and began to dump out an iridescent mist. "I was finishing the last steps of a ritual when you came in."
She looked down. Cursed into the floor was darkened, rotting wood interspersed by sigils and characters carved in the blue of overflowing plant cells bulging with mana-infused water.
"Soon, soon," her father said, "or, I hope not."

[Horde of One]

Three Hours before sunset | Vega III

Silence enveloped the fields of Gara, second moon of Vega III and soon to become stage of a confrontation between two interstellar behemoths. As soon as the Drecha response had been received the Horde had begun landing troops on the western side of the Itacor Pinacle, while the drechans were doing the same in the East. Millions had been mobilised. The Horde had sent various rapid response brigades under the command of Epsiarch Yka, who would with his mind-circuit direct the battle from above. Some soldiers where Iras, robots whose form was not far removed from that of an earthly Mantis, part of the Inner Eye. Another asset of the Horde. Supporting these shock troops would be the cultist masses starving to draw blood in name of the Messenger. Swarming above would be the Drones. Simple mechanical creatures tasked with distracting, disrupting, the enemy and it's supply lines, command chain, organisation.

The Horde forces were lacking a critical component in their campaign, however. Information. The Drecha had been first detected barely a month ago in Vega terms. Their cruiser was blocking all transmissions from the assembly zone, and thus the Horde was dependent on shadow gliders to get info on their army. It seemed to be constituted almost equitably by droids and organics. The precise equipment in use was as of yet indeterminate, but the gliders had detected a large number of three legged walkers. Crawler Drones had been deployed to provide an opponent to these artificial beasts.

4 Hours after Sunset
As Vega III set on the Itacor Pinacle the Drecha attacked. With unrestrained speed they tore through the outer layers of Horde defences. 2-2-2 stood on a ridge, a choke point the Epsiarch calculated the Drechan would try to take by force. Circumventing it would force them to give up encircling the One forces, plunging them deep into One positions.

He turned his mechanical cranium 180° and set his sensors on his second in command. 3-AD#2 was exercising his joints in what might seem a nervous exercise. It wasn't. None of them eere nervous, it was impossible, the programming instilled by the Creators did not allow. And for good measure, for that the sight of Drechan infantry marching along the field towards their position would throw anyone off balance, if the appropriate preventions hadn't been made.

"Distance" he chirped "Report, Unit 3-Squad Q" He once again looked at the drechan. These seemed to be organics. Protected by all body suits, flanked by triploid walkers, and manning some pretty impressive rifles.
But still, they had faced worse, and survives to tell the tale.

"Two dozen metres from ambush point one. We are ready to begin the onslaught at your command." A voice echoed through his head through the comlink.

"Hold. Wait for the vanguard to pass the first line and then, detonate the explosives." His head buzzed with small calculations. In theory this would be enough to cripple the advancing drechans enough to allow his forces to hold the line. In practice, on the other hand, he still had his doubts.

One moment, Drechan march reverberated thorough the ridge. Then, it seemed to 2-2-2 that the whole world had gone silent. "What? Why did they stop? Detection, what are they doing?"

"The Tripod walkers are standing just before the mine coat, seemingly scanning it. I'm afraid our first line has been detected."

2-2-2 felt a passing fad of doubt. "Unsurprising. Let's hope that the backup plan has a better outcome. Deploy the harasser division, fifth raiding squad."

From the left side begun emerging small anti-gravity equipped Wheelbikes in groups of three. Equipped with kinetic arms, they descended upon the Drechan columns, occupied with de-mining, with ferocious speed.

Rounds of sharpnel, handheld grenades and ripper rounds tore through the Drechan ranks... To surprisingly little effect. The soldiers that weren't hit with immediately deadly rounds not only survived but handled the loss of limb and weapon as if it was but a sma scratch. Fighting as one, the Drechan engaged the Horde. It's soldiers fought to the last, never retreating. It seemed as if the first drechan rule of war was "thou shalt not give up ground, no matter the reason".

2-2-2 observed the carnage with an implanted set of telescopic lenses. He did not like what his sensors relayed to him. The Drecha were slowly pushing back, having assimilated their losses with relative ease.

After a momentary hesitation, he beamed a request to the local Sector command: "We request a long range Artillery salvo to coordinates [DATA EXPUNGED]."

Those of his command staff that picked up the transmission looked at him with a puzzled face (or the equivalent for an insectoid automaton). "2-2-2, the salvos will massacre our forces down there. I do not think that the amount of Drecha eliminated by the atttack justifies our own loss."

2-2-2 remained silent, and silence seemed too to fall upon the ridge in the moments that preceded the cacophony of explosions that marked the salvo. On the burning fields where the Drecha and One battled, chaos was ensuing, with what thus far seemed to be an elaborate choreography dissolved in uncoordinated fighting. Still, the Drechan advanced.

2-2-2 had, while the artillery shelled the combatants, positioned all of his reserve forces on two points: a small number atop the ridge with whatever light artillery they had to target the tripods, which had fared surprisingly well under bombardment, and a second detachment led by himself would try a counterattack once the Drechan entered the western valley, where they would be forced to split their forces.

The tripods were mildly damaged by the shelling from above, but their point defence canons soon made short work of the harassers. Following that, while a portion of the Drechan forces stayed behind to eliminate the remaining defenders, most of the detachment entered the valley, intent on resuming their delayed advance towards the focal point of the One forces. Much to their annoyment they were once again stopped by 2-2-2's forces.

This time, the Drechan retained their few remaining tripods behind their attack line, using them as fire support, while the infantry tried to break One formation and encircle pockets of defenders.

2-2-2 fought left and right. Lasers, mini-projectiles, claws all that was available was used against the Drechan. Yet, each time he hit one, two more seemed to be ready to attack. Worse, if he hadn't hit hard enough for the opponent to fall dead, he might as well not had done any damage, for that they fought until the last limb was severed.

As the hours passed, the situation seemed to settle in a bloody stalemate. The Drechan soldiers were individually superior, but the One detachment has the advantage of holding a good defensive position and a more dynamic strategy. Unfortunately for them, it wasn't enough to withstand the Drechan much longer. Especially if reinforcements were on the way.

As the Drechan once again charged towards One lines, 2-2-2 found himself calculating the usefulness of ritual suicide. Would it bring more Drechan to hell than keeping this unending fight? He looked at his body, cataloguing each severed, eviscerated, destroyed, components. Too many to count. He rallied his troops and prepared for the coming onslaught.

Suddenly a voice boomed in his head

All unit-stand down-ritual combat has concluded-Drechan advantage on three of the four victory conditions-yield

The Drecha seemed to have received a similar communication, because they had stopped their threatening advance and were now returning to their previous positions.

2-2-2 looked around. The ground was littered with his dead. They seemed to smile at him mockingly. Was he really going to end his existence for the sake of a ritual combat? Really?

Nomada-Epsiarch

From: Horde of One
To: Drechan sovereign

Long live to the Cosmos, Mother of All Life, Bringer of All Death. We hope that the ritual combat that took place is enough for you to be convinced of the benefits your polity will get should our alliance be ratified. It certainly convinced us. The Drechan fighting prowess is worthy of respect, without doubt, and together we will bring the Cosmic Scythe to a great many unworthy civilizations. Because of your victory, we will give you the honour of directing the Horde. Do tell, Drecha, who will be the first to feel the wrath of our fleet?

[Sanhana]

It burns my skin, It hurts my soul.

August 23rd. 2021 (Sanhana years and days). Kasib has been monitoring and learning of the situation for days now, constant calls with superiors about the current situation, never ending meetings about what Sanhana should do to combat the situation facing them, Sanhana has even had to slow down the call for 4 more nuclear weapons by 3 days over it.

The AI blared to life, just as it had days prior about it the first time, but this time Kasib had ordered a study on whatever the hell was going on. Especially with their satellites being down again for the 2nd week in a row.

Report Finished. Result: CERTAIN DEATH.

Of course the AI would be so negative again, they had been given the information on everything Sanhana had done in the time in between the previous run... Something felt off about this run though....

Kasib got closer to the terminal, opening the details of the report the AI had done about the situation.

He couldn't believe his eyes. A massive, hulking star ship or other vehicle far into the distance, closer to the sun than ever possibly thought something could get. He took the call to action immediately, sending an emergency signal with the information to the rest of the generals and even some of the counsel of 300.

What was this thing? he would ask himself before taking any other options.... There was no way that it was real... Right?

Of course it was real. This is what everything before now had been leading up to, the AI alert, the hysteria, the Message.....

The gasoline has been spread across Sanhana. Kasib had but one chance to get to the match before the two made contact.

I fear what I do not understand.
I fear what cannot be understood.
I do not understand the sun
Yet...
The sun is my guiding light.
-Sanhanan Saying


What happens when the sun goes away?
-Commonly asked children's question about the Saying.