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Archdjinni of the Rings: Hoopa (Warhammer 40k/Pokemon)

A poor sod got violently sucked in an ultra-dimensional wound in reality, leading him to his kidnappers, hyper-intelligent, biologically immortal space-faring magical lizard-frogmen things to be turned into a living tool, weapon, and mode of transport all three in one against his will… Though his new form was oddly akin to the true form of the Pokémon number 720, Hoopa, in both general appearance and power, let's see how a human-turned-monster of mass destruction fares in this universe of grim darkness and how the universe and its players react to him as he now was an integral part of the Great Game, for the better or the worse. Everything goes to their respective owner. It's crossposted on Webnovel, Space Battle, Scribble Hub, and Royal Road.

The_Bip_Boop2003 · Others
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33 Chs

33. Dark Muse

"My most loved sister, what emotions does this sculpture stir in your magnificent heart?" An Aeldari male, tall even by his species standard, said with a smile as he gazed at the 'sculpture.'

A patchwork of flesh, skin, organs, and faces from lifeforms were chosen with extreme care from every parameter: skin color, smoothness of scales, puffiness of feathers, length of hair, shapes, and size of internal organs. Each aspect was chosen to be the building block of a harmonious living musical orchestra, and it played a lively symphony of immense beauty using the clicks of bones, heartbeats, snaps of muscles, moans, wails, and more.

The sister in question was wearing a complex robe of living tissue with sapience; nerves were embroidered from lower life forms in a pattern representing the magnificent nebulas in lifelike detail. If not for the eyes blinking and swirling around, it would have appeared almost of orthodox materials.

"Many, brother…" She trailed, biting her lips softly but enough to draw blood at the macabre spectacle, "Many, that the words fail me. This is a work beyond the mere grasp of the Gods, and it's but a fractal, how deep is meaning and complexity in every strand."

"I share your every feeling, sister. Did you know this masterpiece is the physical manifestation of Flesh Mender Hrythyoc's mourning?" He said, trailing clawed fingers across his hair, vibrating at the sensation brought by the ever-present electric current within.

Next to them was another group of Aeldari, but their focus was on a painting representing the loss of a child through various events. Each was more horrific and tragic than the last: diseases, accidents, murders, and more. It was of a mother and father and their child kept in an eternal death parade and loss.

The family was part of an ape-like species vaguely reassembling orangutans; they were Jokaero, one of the Young Races engineered by the Old Ones. As such, they were highly coveted among collectors and artists, for they possessed the mind and technology to be a threat to Aeldari, and they were good at hiding in addition to a low population.

And in the recent cycles, their scarcity skyrocketed, and the population here they were known to breed vanished. This wasn't a lone case for this species either, but it was only a trivia barely worth mentioning, the hunting ground where the natural ones, if it came down to it, new breeding grounds would be made.

And it was far more than an original fictional representation of this uniquely rare species; those three specimens were real, of flesh, skin, bones, and souls. They were trapped in this artificial dimension to be toyed with for eternity. The ability to die and go insane was robbed from them; however, the pain and anguish, both physical and mental, amplified at each tragedy was not.

It materialized the woes of the inferior, pitiful mortal, a show of meaningless circus devastation that Aeldari stood above and could but observe with fascination the primitives' emotions bubbles and marinate. It was not only a piece of art but a perpetual machine of emotions for them to bathe in.

Swirling a glass of liquefied joy with a hint of despair, one of the three began speaking, her voice smooth and her eyes shining with glee as they shifted from the pocket world to her friends, "Have your ears caught the tale of a legend of six long lost artifacts of ages past?"

"Truly a fascinating concept, and yes, indeed. It had graced me, and I heard it was no mere legend." Another said as he gazed into the open void of space with a smile. How sumptuous the cosmos was, and it was theirs.

"There are many rumors. Lores of long gone eras mysteriously resurfacing of an ancient beast that even the mightiest of the Old Gods shivered in terror and had sworn to serve for eternity to whoever frees it." The third one added with a pensive expression; it was most strange indeed, but that was a passing thought.

There were many strange things within the universe, which was merely one of countless.

"A treasure." The first one finishing her glass added, "Artifacts impossible to divine spread in our magnificent galaxy."

They were all interested to varying degrees. It was a change none could foresee, and the Aeldari Empire was soon to see the largest expedition in its history for these keys to godhood. And today's auction was so populated partly for this reason.

The main reason now entering the scene and with her presence greater than all voices, whether sound or psychic in nature, vanished, and silence dawned the hall. The sound of her eels on the gilded wraithbone ground resonated across the expansive room, rattling the heart of the audience as, from a podium manifesting downward, she arrived.

Her presence was immense, immaculate beyond the grasp of the common Aeldari. It was not by her regality, sensuality, grace, beauty, or personal power but by something deeper, something above the superficial of her innate superiority.

A presence that marked her as a maestro of pleasure and most profane given flesh, a Prophet of the New Age and Fall of Old, she was Lhilitu, the Consort of the Void and one of the legendary Dark Muse.

"Welcome, welcome…" Her soft, melodious voice of countless unworded promises thundered, "Welcome my dear customers and merchandise to the House of Sidhe where all are welcomed, and all is possible for a price… That is."

The crowd exploded in cheers, and Lhilitu bowed curtly, hiding her smile behind faux shame with her fan. Then, with a finger flick, they quieted down, happily obeying her. Only a fraction could sense her manipulation, and those were smart enough to play along.

Not even the greatest lords or ladies in this part of the Empire would dare to offend one of her positions. Though it wasn't for immediate fear of repercussions, she couldn't do it here. This was a place of exchange, be it material or services; here, all had value, from objects to souls and emotions. And it would be unsightly. But outside… That was a different story.

"Let's not delay any further. Eternity can only be so long. Oh… Oh? I have a grand announcement from a little blue bird." The Dark Muse mused out loud with a surprised tone and beatific smile that turned into an exquisite giggle, "Do not fret, my little ones. This shall be without charges, for what is required of you is to spread my words. Can I count on you, my dears?"

Another cheer of agreement was all it took for confirmation. And she savored it thoroughly, playing in graciously, feasting on the emotions with unmasked glee.

"I'm most confident you have caught the words, a string of misters weaved of truth and lies that are more than they first appear? A hunt to free the chained beast of the Dark Prince, a creature of darkness made manifest sealed upon the heretical use of the holy number and to serve the one who brings the six keys." The Consort of the Void revealed all but the truth… Or so for her; she didn't tell any falsehood, but who was she to dictate what she was not to?

She was a speaker of a greater existence beyond even her wildest dream and nightmare. She was a tool to be used in its entirety and thrown away, and how she adored it.

"Unknown are the places of five. Yes, my dear, one has been located, and I'm afraid to reveal that it is within the coffer of one of those unfeeling automatons unworthy of existence." Her joyous tone turned cold and venomous, and a galactic map manifested above the audience whose collective outrage, if not for her, would have destroyed the star system they were in.

Within all was grayed out but one point of interest, a location that in a parallel universe would be called the Eastern Fringe or Ultima Segmentum. It was a precise location in that portion of the Milky Way, singling out a handful of star systems.

"That is where the key has been noticed. You can do as you please with this little piece of information! Oh, and I have another tidbit to give…" She trailed off, changing the map to an object, a simple golden ring with a green gemstone.

However, it didn't take more than a glance to comprehend that it was no mere jewelry, an image it may be, but its nature transcended such mortal limitations. This was a creation of divine origin only recorded in myths and legends.

"Observe! This is one of the keys stolen from us, and it was with one of ours… Poor Eölim, to be in the hands of such monsters. Information about the culprits would show you rewards and more." Lhilitu cried out with lifelike grief and sadistic glee mixed together in a paradoxical harmony, rendering it impossible to understand her true emotions.

Another wave of outrage would have followed without her interrupting it in its infancy. Still, it unshrouded one of the most conflicted and spoken rumors on the disappearance of the scion of one of the most ancient, influential, and noble houses.

"Now… On the main course." Her words rang powerfully, and the subject changed, finally letting the auction officially begin after two world-shaking revelations.

•••••

Observing my most loyal little bat through the eyes of Danxama, I floated to his right, gaining his attention, and I spoke, voice synthetic, neither male nor female.

"Do you know about the Necrontyr, Majun?" I asked a simple question but one to which no mortals could answer, and evidently, what I got was a negative response.

"No, I'm deeply sorry, but I lack the knowledge of such species. However, I do recall the ancient Necron. What is that you desire, my Lord Hoopa? Is it related to your divine edict? Is it a mistake to fix?" My Archdeacon started to babble on about, and I chuckled heartily. He could be so silly at times.

"Yes, indeed, there is a liaison with the Necron. It's a little-known factoid, but they used to be of flesh, blood, and bones with souls. All of which they have been tricked into giving up, turning all but the strongest willed into mindless robots, though it was to flee from their short disease-suffused lives." I hummed out, and there were shocks in my audience; we weren't alone after all.

We were in the command room of the Vale of Ys, one of the most advanced Cruisers of the Dark Coven, or so my mortals called the magocracy-theocracy organization of the Khrave based around me and with me as the de-facto supreme leader without my express word. It's a positive symbiotic relationship. After all, they weren't my slaves.

"Oh, that's most tragic," Majun said sincerely; how kind of him. And it was an accurate statement. There was little other word that described the Necrontyr more than tragic and that it all could have been averted if the toads stopped marveling at their reflection.

It still pisses me off to this day. So much power and knowledge are used for nothing. If only that were a unique sin of theirs… Though for the Aeldari, it isn't their hubris alone; it isn't less of their fault.

"Indeed, Archdeacon Majun, it is, and If I were listened to, this madness would have never occurred. But alas, it had and

present beckons us to act." Said a one-eyed, faceless man of metal wielding a staff as he walked onto this part of the timeline.

Another wave of shock, this time of the aggressive nature, spread in the room. The Lethe Fields were excellent for what was psychic but severely lacking when it came to time.

"Stay still, my children," I commanded, and they obeyed, stopping the mass hysteria that was coming. However, I felt their confusion; it was a problem of nothing.

"Ah, a long time no see. How did life, oh unlife, treat you, Orikan?" I tutted, studying the Necron Overlord with a tilt of Danxama's head, his single eye gleaming a bright green as he felt me telekinetically ready to freeze his past and future. I was trapping him in the present.

It wasn't personal, but a little precaution never hurt when I didn't invite him and so long had passed since we last talked. I mean, we were coming to meet him, but that's quite rude for him to barge here. Though my little trick won't stop him from fleeing if he genuinely desired it, it was evident he came prepared, but if he tried anything, he would suffer.

"Mediumly, Magician, what is it you require, oh Devil in the Bottle, from me?" The Necron said, profoundly bowing, his green eye never leaving me.

"For you to satisfy to which you have promised, a favor in exchange for the Necron's existence, in exchange for a place for them to exist," I said, approaching, the sound of my puppet metallic feet loud in the typically ever noisy room. All eyes were bored on us.

"You did not provide such." He said boldly, tapping his staff on the Palestone, cracking the ground on the point of impact, "You have destroyed and crippled the C'tan, but so has the Infinite Empire. What is there for us to exist but shambles that were close to their entirety whipped by the thralls of your insensate masters?"

I chuckled.

"Indeed, but was it not as I promised?" I pointed out, spreading my arms, "This is not annihilation, and you are slaves no more, but let's not play any game, Diviner. It doesn't suit you. Be more mindful of what you wish. I do not lie. I never do."

The tension was high.

"That is true." And it poofed away with that sentence, though I knew he wasn't particularly pleased.

"What is required of me, Magician?" Orikan asked this time, staring at Danxama's face. But that would only be what was visible to the naked eye. He was staring deeper, at times itself, and I let him.

"To be of assistance in our troubled time, of course. But I'm not your master, and neither are you, my servant. I will see you and those of your kind of a similar mind be parts of the journey ahead. Maybe even grant the gift that had been refused and stolen." I proposed handing my bronze-coated hand for him to grasp, and he sealed the deal with his metallic grey. He did so again without hesitation and in the truest of senses.

It wasn't as if he had a choice. It was his part of our deal back in the war. It had been one-sided, and it still is, but I was not evil to be evil and didn't have personal enmity to the Necron. Or him, for that matter.

*

My P@treon is up to chap 40 if you are interested.

p@treon.com/user?u=60424165

Hello, focus on Necron and Aeldari, the Empire is under the total control of the Dark Muses, extremely arrogant, intelligent, talented, psychically gifted Aeldari rivaling and surpassing Primarchs in insanity and sheer destruction potential. Well, this one not really for direct fire power as its manipulation telepathy and pleasure of the flesh and beyond her specialties.

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