6 6. Honest Mistake

My eyes studied the embodiment of clownery for no other words could describe him better, it wasn't an insult but what he was. He wasn't of flesh and blood like I or the lizard bitch were, not I fully was either but for him, it was fully.

He was a beautifully crafted psychic construct of emotions, concepts, faith, belief, and untold more that held him together by a matrix of unfathomable arcane that made him into the living being that he was.

It was truly fascinating, my body instinct screaming to learn more while understanding trickled down to me with the little I could glimpse on the surface. Hypotheses after hypotheses strung themselves together in moments, all slightly different and more concise than the last as I became even more deeply aware of ones of my new natures, magic, the manipulation of psychic energy…

The mystic art as a whole, the fact that I was interested in it, to begin with, it was fucking magic after all only helped. It felt like breathing for lack of comparison, not that it's something I needed to do to live now.

Back to the clown's nature, the term god wouldn't be what I would call him but what would be more due to the fact I was vastly stronger, at least in raw power and that would mean calling myself this which I think wasn't appropriate. Winning might not be guaranteed but losing was an impossibility.

A part of my paradoxical essence could erode his existence. Just like I could with all psychic constructs as I felt the world around me break and rebuild itself in my presence, it was due to my alien nature that much I could notice but what was its true potential only time would tell.

The doubt about winning was born out of common sense, he was eons older than me and had all that came with this fact, being bigger and meaner with my few seconds of life meant critically wounding him would be a certainty on a surprise attack but more than that and it became foggy.

A child will not win against a grown man but that is in normal circumstances. All will change if said child had a taser, a knife or any other weapon adding the grown man would nine times out of ten underestimate the danger a child possessed even if armed. The child to begin with could not be alone.

Again… It was common sense and I must never forget it, things were far more complex than 'me strong and you die cause weak'. It wasn't a game with dumb fixed stats and strict rules to abide by, no matter what I had become could be found in one such game.

'One of my first thoughts… Analyze, study, and evaluate the potential threat and how to proceed for its termination. I should be horrified but I'm not and I know what I have become. There is no denying but that's not a fatality… I'm me, whatever it truly entails is for me to discover.', I computed calmly how alien I was compared to the regular 21st-century human male I once was, of all that was ripped away and twisted.

I was aware of it already but this was this and this was that experiencing something so visceral was indescribable, doing the same in an egg to this being vastly different too.

In any case… He seemed to not be a total piece of shit of an individual, to say he was good would be false, he was someone to not fully trust but he had at least some empathy for my situation if his psychic aura and greeting speech were any indication.

It wasn't useful but appreciated nonetheless and something I suppose quite uncommon for a 'god' but that was more of my innate bias talking.

The reality that it was a trick would always be at the back of my mind though, but I wasn't going to be an asshole for no reason to something that was a powerful ally and of equal standing.

My little bouts of brainstorming happened in a very short time, just like his speech, we didn't function at the same speed a human did.

Still, the time I didn't let my interlocutor wait further and I answered through my fanged jaws in this alien chirping and melodious language reminiscent of bird chants that I had been speaking naturally since hatching and all others were as well, "Hello…. Cegorach, fascinating, is quite the downplay for me. A pleasure to meet you I suppose, I'm not sure how to process this further. It's new for me."

The clown merrily laughed while one of his yellowish gloves that was his hand moved and booped me on the tip of my beak which led me to blink in confusion and him chuckling.

"Hmm-hn indeed! Indeed it is! Why wouldn't it be? It's your birthday and first taste of battle! Two for the price of one! Wouldn't you agree to this, my lovely brother Khaine?", Cegorath said, his body bouncing and bobbing around in a way nothing with any skeletal system should.

His words were directed to the one the lizard bitch had invoked with the Song of Creation, he stepped out of a slash in reality made by a flaming blade fueled by wrath and malice hotter than any stars, the world melting at its sharp edge.

"Silence with your yammering you buffoon of a god.", the owner of the fiery blade said with palpable irritation, anger if not wrath even the emotion that embodied him.

"Oh how hurtful your words are to my sensible heart! Do you have any modicum of love for your most faithful brother even after all of my advice and help? But if you desire, my mouth will be zipped.", the Clown God said dramatically in faux-pains, as the other Aeldari God exited the slash in reality.

His imposing figure of carved muscles was taller than me, his glistening metallic bronze skin shifted from exposed part to a divine armor of the same material radiating power and raw violence, the upward growing horns on his helmet amplifying his presence tenfold.

'I can't win against him, not in a direct way anyway.', was my immediate analysis of my winning chance aside from that he seemed to be an asshole, a very, very strong one, one far stronger than me in terms of raw potency brought by psychic energy. But I was a newborn, this was an important point to be noted.

His fiery red eyes locked on my own, he knew I was analyzing him, and a smile formed on his sharp angular features at this. It was a bloodthirsty one filled with sharp metallic teeth that was both pleased, amused, and challenging.

His attention came with a feeling of great pressure that felt almost suffocating and for lower life forms would have vaporized their very soul, I only responded in kind by using my aura which thanks to my alien nature eroded his own, it was more to entertain his little game of horn tutting than anything else.

And I'm not so hypocritical to say I do not find it exciting myself, conflict and contradiction, chaos in a way seemed overly attractive. More than I was comfortable with and liked.

However… There was no true animosity from him at best curiosity, it was more of a greeting if a rather strange one. It would be comparable to a strong handshake to harmlessly test the others.

"You… Hoopa was it, let's see how you fare on the battlefield and if you are worthy to be in my presence. This shall prove to be a day worth remembering for eternity, let's upon the glory of war, death, and destruction!", the God of War, Violence, and Murder exclaimed in a deep earth-shaking voice, excitement could be felt within the oozing bloodlust of his tone.

-Enough, the time is not adequate for pleasantness! My children, shatter this star parasite, the False Death, and destroy its measly fleet of soulless automatons and all that it represents! Bring me and my most honored people a most triumphant victory!-, the voice of the lizard bitch reached my mind just as she warped away in the deepest confines of the Fortress.

It was as if a flip was switched inside me, a task that I must do no matter what.

It was out of my control, I hated it from every metaphysical fiber of my being but I was powerless, weak by design to be her slave, just like my 'siblings' and so by her will I will fight until our enemies are but dust lost in the cosmos.

Of course, I will proceed on doing so in the way I desire, what matters is the result, the destination, not the adventure and friends made through it. I'm not a perfect puppet to her, the control she held over me was vast but not total and it was also by design.

How could I be her Magnum Opus if I'm a dumb automaton obeying her every word to the T with no ability to think further whatsoever and adapt, or even be a good weapon in an impossibly complex war with being intelligent beyond any humans?

This meant anything that wasn't direct and truly concrete commands were left to interpretation or might not even work, the more complex and vague the request was the more loopholes there were for me to exploit. The Devil was in the details.

How much I anticipated the moment she would realize the size of her mistake… But it wasn't for now, I needed knowledge, allies, and experience… And several plans.

'I can't wait for this moment… But first my battle first, one of many to come.'


The mental command by the Great Old One was shared with the three of her creation, Khaine being the first to act, his powerful armored figure shifted into a battle stance, his feet parted, one at the front and the other at the side, the grip on the pommel of his goldy blade the Widowmaker tightened as he aimed the wicked blade horizontally to his head moved his arm in an attack stance.

Then with a mighty war cry that resonated through untold billions bringing terror, bloodlust, and a wish for murder and violence in all, he launched himself at unparalleled speed toward the Bringer of Darkness, the commander ship of the Necron fleet.

"Always so eager for violence! How uncouth and typical of him. Hoopa my dear, could you please open me the way to the lower bridge for I'm not fit for combatting such crass metal creatures, you see. I'm a partisan of lesser and eloquent violence, my role is here shalt be more supportive than aggressive and my faithful need my help.", the Great Harlequin asked, his tone both endearing, jovial, and serious.

"My role as a taxi begins it seems.", the ex-human mumbled but did as asked, a ring from one of his six forearms flew out and expanded in size which the Aeldari God passed through without any hesitation showing trust that didn't go unnoticed.

Now physically alone Hoopa stared at the hole in the chamber, the golden ring around his pupil bright as his emotions were wild inside, nervousness, terror and so much more running yet his mind was clear and he could think properly.

His brain worked on hundreds of scenarios from the knowledge he received about the Necron, from how their blades vibrate and cut through multiple layers of reality to the frictionless technology used by their ship to travel in Realspace but also the constant buzzing of telepathic messages between all psychically gifted race and his monstrous senses.

Khaine had yet to arrive at his target, the armies and the different races composing them were in a sort of chaotic orders as they ran and prepared for their post obeying the panicking weaker Old Ones, the appearance of the Laughing God alleviating their charges, the cluster Blackstone Fortresses accumulated condensed psychic energy for furthering the defense but also for the counter-attack, the Necron fleet with many cruisers and soldiers on the attack firing green beams of energy that defied physics.

Many things were happening at once, and Hoopa wasn't sure how to proceed with any advanced battle plan so he decided not to. He will improvise with what he has in his six hands as things go on, it's not as if he had many other options.

But what took his focus for one of those options was born of fragments that remained of his consciousness, it was something 'unimportant' to his instinct, so below him his body told him that it became commercially horrifying for him.

A planet full of life with its sapient inhabitants, billions of innocent lives with family, brothers, sisters, friends, enemies, hopes, and dreams in the middle of what could be called a clash between gods.

Their lives soon come to an end in a brutal apocalypse a byproduct of the ongoing conflict, just like a group of children in the middle of a war in an area that was in the middle of being bombarded, they couldn't comprehend what was happening, the why or who or when but what they do understand is that death is coming.

He didn't want it to happen, it was unfair and he had the right to try and a colder part of him told it would be wasting potential.

'Fuck the battle, it can wait for a little.', he thought slightly conflicted, in all case death in ungodly amounts was on the menu and so he chose fully knowing his hypocrisy to try and help the lives he deemed more innocent but it was also the one that was at risk of disappearing forever, cutting short all of its potentials.

Closing his eyes for a brief instant his entire body shifted and he stood up from his perpetual sitting position, a ring flew out generating a portal and in the next instant he moved himself through it leaving the room empty

The first thing that greeted Hoopa when he exited was a small rustic village that reminded him of a mix between late medieval Europe and classic Japanese houses but with a pinch of mud and thatch huts.

The second thing was screams of unaltered terror but also agony directed at him from the canine-like inhabitants, for good reasons, he was massive or they were really small, or the most likely it was both. He was taller than their tallest building by a factor of two, adding that he came out of nowhere and it wasn't the only factor.

-Be not afraid, I do not bear the intention to cause you harm. I have come to help.-, he uttered telepathically as gently and delicately to the crowd for he understood the difference in power to form an understanding.

At least that was what he believed to do, but beliefs weren't reality, and in the urgency of the moment with his non-existent experience he made several rookie mistakes. None of them he could have reasonably avoided in any meaningful way that would have stopped the horrifying scene unfolding before his widening eyes.

He was a newborn less than five minutes old, as formidable as he was he lacked in many, many aspects.

The delicate art of telepathy first and foremost required a deep knowledge of the emotions, memory, mind, soul, and body each that he lacked in their near entirety but also vast training and experience to communicate with alien minds far stronger or weaker than your own.

This was more so with alien minds that were intricately interconnected together to form a mental hub through which they communicated, spoke to their ancestor, and exchanged knowledge.

Bad luck for him and worse luck for his interlocutors, it was this exact scenario here.

He had used the same technique Chtylla used to speak mentally to him and his 'brothers'.

He had naively and arrogantly hoped that tweaking telepathy for godly beings on the fly to be adapted for this scenario would suffice and as such he violated, shattered, and broke the shared consciousness creating a cataclysmic chain reaction within the entire species he had come to help.

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