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andrewmoocow · 7 years ago

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Gravity Soul chapter 6: In Search of Pacifica, Another Enemy Returns? (originally posted on March 20, 2018)

AN: Welcome back from hiatus boys, girls and every other gender/sexuality! From here on out, Gravity Soul is going to get even insaner and you’re all coming along with me for the ride. Welcome one and all to the Quest for the Northwest arc, and now your new cipher brought to us by Mr. A1Z26. 1 12-9-20-20-12-5 7-9-18-12 2-25 20-8-5 14-1-13-5 15-6 14-15-18-20-8-23-5-19-20 23-1-19 2-15-18-14 20-15 2-5 20-8-5 22-5-18-25 2-5-19-20 14-15-23 19-8-5'19 11-14-15-3-11-5-4 15-21-20 3-15-12-4 20-15 19-1-22-5 8-5-18, 20-8-5-25 13-21-19-20 2-5 2-15-12-4

Mere hours later, the beastly Madness of Sloth formerly known as Preston Northwest charged through the woods of Gravity Falls with his wife Priscilla and their currently unconscious daughter Pacifica clutched in his large hands, startling many a woodland creature and supernatural oddity. “Please Preston, if you’re still in there, just let us go!” his wife cried trying to flee, but her words fell on deaf ears before the monster finally arrived at their former mansion, which was now property of Fiddleford McGucket, but something seemed off. It was now infested with monsters roaming its courtyard, the windows darker than the night sky and the roof having a large hole in it, allowing the light of the moon to shine upon the foyer. “Master Kishin Cipher, I have returned!” the Madness boomed entering the house. “Master, where are you?” he wondered looking around for his lord. “I believe he has other matters to attend to sir.” a diminuative elderly man dressed in all black with a pointy nose explained appearing before Preston. “I am Mosquito, at your service.” he cordially introduced himself. “I suppose you must be another one of his minions, correct?” “Of course we are, we’re all working for the same guy right!” another man called stepping into view. This one in particular had very pale skin, metal piercings, a fur-collared jacket and brown gloves that extended past his elbows. “Who’s the ruffian with you?” Northwest asked setting his captives down. “This ‘ruffian’ is my partner Giriko. We made a deal with Bill to resurrect a certain someone in exchange for our services.” Mosquito stated. Giriko got quite mad over the former philanthropist calling him a ruffian and got his face incredibly close to the other’s. “Who are you calling a ruffian?! You’re the ruffian here for being a terrible parent from what I’ve heard!” “SILENCE!” another voice roared before its owner crashed down into the floor through the hole, none other than Kishin Cipher. “Kishin Cipher, I have been expecting you my lord!” Mosquito distracted himself from the duo’s argument by kissing up to the fusion of Bill and Asura. “My most glorious, almighty, unholy-” Kishin Cipher interrupted him by literally zipping his mouth closed. “Skip the formalities Pointy and hand me the journal!” Although Mosquito’s speaking was muffled through the zipper, he complied giving his boss the second journal written by Stanford Pines. “Oh yes, finally someone gave me one of the journals for once!” the fusion cried in euphoria. “Now all I need are the other two and the ritual to get my power back will be complete!” Skimming through the book, he glanced at Giriko and the Madness of Sloth still fighting before shocking them with a wave of his finger, ending their tussle. “Quit it both of you!” “Okay then you big lug, no need to create another spark over this.” Giriko chuckled at his own terrible pun before getting serious again. “So what do we do with those two over there?” he wondered turning to the other Northwests. “Whatever you do milord, please have mercy on them.” Preston offered thinking for his family. “Oh isn’t that sweet? This man still cares for his family even after he’s been turned into a hideous creature! Whatever shall I do to please him?” Kishin Cipher mock-cried mulling over what to do before he finally came to a decision. “Oh I know! Golems, take the woman to the dungeon where she shall remain!” “But we made an agreement!” Preston roared as his wife was tossed into his family’s former panic room by a pair of large stone creatures. “Well I’m not one for keeping promises bub!” the Dream Kishin exclaimed before gesturing towards the still comatose Pacifica. “And place the girl in a special cage, we’ll need her for later.” The Golems did as they were told picking up the girl and sticking her in a gilded cage before it was raised to the ceiling. “What do you plan on doing with her?” Sloth wondered fearfully backing away. “You’ll see Mustachio. Now go outside and guard the front door!” The Madness of Sloth reluctantly complied before walking outside and taking his position. Cipher went back to eagerly scrolling through the journal before Giriko finally spoke up. “So what’s this ritual you were talking about?” the Deadly Demon Weapon wondered. “That is a very good question buzzface!” Kishin Cipher answered faux-affectionately pinching his cheek, much to his displeasure. “In order for me to regain my maximum power, I need the blood sacrifice of a human, a Witch and a Demon Weapon. I’ve already got one of them down, but all I need are the other two.” He produced an image of the Mystery Meisters before Giriko & Mosquito. “Kill every last one of them, but bring the old man and the Demon Scythe to me. Understand?” he commanded. “Yes master.” the two accepted before going on their way. “But master, what would happen if someone else got involved?” Mosquito inquired before Cipher grabbed him by the shirt collar. “What do you mean by someone else?! If you’re talking about him, then our plans will be ruined if he finds out! Now go already!” He finally dropped the Bloodsucker to the ground and retreated back into the shadows, presumably to recharge his energy as the two walked out of the mansion. “So explain to me again why we’re working with him if he looks like he wants us dead?” Giriko wondered. “Don’t you remember my boy, we originally made a deal with him to resurrect Lady Arachne in exchange for our services!” Mosquito exclaimed irritated at his partner’s forgetfulness before consoling himself and focusing on the task at hand. “But your incompetence doesn’t matter now, let us continue on our way.” The pair finally disembarked on their mission, confident that they will succeed but didn’t know what they were in for.

Meanwhile, deep in the woodlands of Gravity Falls, Dipper and Maka began making plans for an attack on Kishin Cipher with the rest of the party watching. “Okay everyone, here’s the plan.” Dipper began mapping out strategies. “It’s a long way to the mansion so it’s best that we all split up into groups to find a decent pathway to our destination.” He then began listing off the teams. “Mabel, Waddles, Maka, Soul, Crona & I will form the first team. Stan, you, Ford, Kid, Liz & Patty and Wendy form the second. Soos, Melody, McGucket, Stein, Spirit & Blair are Team #3. Finally Black Star, Tsubaki, Gideon and Ghost-Eyes will make up the fourth team. Any questions?” “I got one,” Mabel raised her hand. “how do we communicate with one another when our teams are far away from each other?” she asked. “That’s where these come in.” Maka stated pulling out a bag of flashlights and handing them out to each group. “Each team gets one flashlight they’ll have to share. For every five meters, one of you will have to flash it twice if it’s safe. If there’s trouble, flash it four times. As for other signals, all members within each team will give each other hand signals.” She formed her hand to make an OK symbol. “Use this whenever you’re in the clear.” Then she lowered three of her fingers down while the pinky & thumb pointed outward. “And this is for perilous situations. Are we clear on that?” The others nodded in agreement before Spirit raised his hand. “I think I got a good hand signal!” he exclaimed before he demonstrated said signal by clapping his hands, making a peace sign, then an OK sign and finally placing his left hand over his brow. “I think he’s saying "Your underwear is showin’”.“ Stan translated the signals. "Yeah boy!” Spirit cried fistbumping the great uncle while Maka watched in embarrassment. “Good grief.” “Before we proceed, I think we need to contact my father about the current situation.” Death the Kid suggested before extending his hand, causing a skull-shaped magic circle on the ground to appear and an image of Lord Death to pop out of it. “Hey there, hi there, ho there everybody! How are you all doing children?” the Shinigami cheerfully greeted. “We’re doing fine Lord Death. We contacted you because we’re about to go on an important mission.” Maka explained. “Who the devil is Mr. Tall Dark & Mysterious over here?” Stan wondered. “And what’s with that mask of his?” “Mr. Pines, I’d like you to meet my father Death.” Kid introduced the great uncle to his father. “Ah, so you must be one of my son’s new friends.” Death politely stated. “So wait, your father is literally the Grim Reaper?!” Stan exclaimed gaping at the Death God. “To be honest, I don’t really see the family resemblance.” “You must be Lord Death. The name’s Pines, Stanford Pines.” Ford greeted stepping forward. “They’re our great uncles and super cool too!” Mabel exclaimed. “Oh look, little Dipper and Mabel are here as well! What’s up with this mission I’ve heard about?” said Death. “Well here’s a question for you sir.” Dipper stated crossing his arms. “Have you ever heard of Bill Cipher?” Lord Death gasped at the boy’s question, as if he knew the dream demon from days long passed. After regaining his composure and answering. “Why yes, yes I have.” he stated. “He and I go way back. Hundreds of years ago, he plotted to unleash his weirdness upon the world but me and my eight guardians refused to have any of that. We found a way to break into his hideout in the Nightmare Realm and prevent his invasion, but I feared he would come back someday ready for revenge.” “Well that’s why we contacted you Mr. Death, he’s back and fused with this guy named Asura!” Wendy exclaimed which again sent Death into a tizzy. “Wait, Asura’s back?! How, and why?” he exclaimed. “He fused with Bill for one simple purpose: revenge.” Stein said turning his screw. “And now he’s kidnapped a young girl after brainwashing her father into becoming one of his minions.” “Oh my, that is quite perilous! I’ll promise to watch over you and make contact when all is said and done!” Death proclaimed doing a military salute as the hologram gave out. “Lord Death, out!” When the message finally ended, Dipper turned to the other teams. “Okay everyone, we all know what to do!” he announced raising his flashlight skyward. “For Pacifica!” “For Pacifica!” the others shouted before finally dispersing across the forest. All except for Wendy who stopped her younger friend and snatched the trapper cap from his head, replacing it with the pine tree hat she took to remember him by last summer. “Wanted to do it when you first came back, but I guess I lost track of time.” she said before running to catch up with the elder Pines, Kid and the Thompsons. And so, the great quest for Pacifica Northwest that would last them through the night finally began. Meanwhile with Lord Death, he had just ended the call before turning to gaze around his special room, pondering about their current situation. “So Asura’s back, just as I feared.” he reiterated in a hushed fearful tone unlike his usual wise eccentric personality. “I wonder if it’s finally time I tell Kid.” “Is something wrong sir?” a blue-skinned zombie entered the room without Death knowing. “Oh it’s nothing Sid, I’m just concerned for my son.” Death answered sheepishly. “Oh, you mean Kid? I’m sure he’s doing fine in Gravity Falls.” Sid replied. “No Sid, not just him.” the Shinigami corrected him. “The other one as well.”

Owls hooted loudly as Dipper’s team, consisting of himself, Mabel, Maka, Soul, Crona and Waddles wandered through the forest in search of a good pathway to the former Northwest mansion. “Are you sure we should be out when it’s this dark? I don’t know how to deal with this.” Crona moaned hiding behind Maka. “It’s gonna be okay Crona, you got us sticking by you all the way.” Mabel comforted him before Ragnarok popped out of the Demon Swordsman’s back. “Yeah, all that mushy power of friendship crap or something!” the Black Blood blade shouted giving his Meister a noogie. “Hey, quit it Ragnarok!” Just then, Waddles started oinking in fear and dashing toward Soul. “What’s up little guy, you look like you’ve seen a ghost!” the Demon Scythe tried to soothe him before the group spotted a snake slithering before them. “What are you all scared about, it’s just a snake.” Dipper said. “That’s not just any snake Dipper,” Maka exclaimed. “look at its scales!” The Pines brother nervously stepped forward to examine the reptile and much to his surprise, there were various arrows adorning its body. “That is definitely nothing like any snake I’ve seen!” he shouted as it snapped its jaws at him. “Correct child. In fact, I’m not just a snake at all.” the snake suddenly spoke to him in a female voice terrifying the Meisters in the twins’ group. “No, that’s impossible!” Maka cried preparing for a fight as Soul’s scythe form flew into her hands. “Oh it most definitely is Maka-chan.” The snake began morphing into a young woman of fairly average build with black dotted tattoos winding down both of her arms. She had yellow eyes with matching hair and was clad in a sleeveless black cloak but was barefoot, revealing black nail polish. To the Pines twins & Waddles she was a frightening sight, but to Maka, Soul and Crona, she was none other than Medusa Gorgon. “Is that supposed to be Medusa?” Mabel wondered clinging to Maka’s overcoat as the young Meister prepared for a rematch with the snake witch. “Yes, but I just can’t believe she’s still alive!” Maka replied readying her scythe. “Well then, why isn’t she turning us to stone?” The clearing suddenly became deathly quiet as Medusa tried to comprehend the little girl’s question. “What…did you just say?” she asked increduously. “I mean, isn’t Medusa supposed to be like some kind of crazy snake-haired lady who can turn anyone looking at her into stone?” “Wow Mabel, I honestly didn’t know you were that into Greek mythology.” Dipper gasped in astonishment. “Well to be honest Dipper, I mostly got it all from that movie from '97 we watched a lot when we were little.” Mabel said. “We had to replace the VCR three times because I had a crush on Herc-” “SILENCE!” Medusa shouted interrupting their random conversation with an arrow that gashed Mabel’s cheek and blew her back. “I’ve had enough of your meandering chatter little ones, now I must assassinate you for my new master Kishin Cipher!” she declared summoning more arrows from her person. “Oh my gosh, are you okay Mabel!” Dipper howled worrying for his sister. “I’m fine bro-bro, just go get help.” his sister groaned reeling from her injury. The boy immediately reached for his flashlight to contact the others before it was suddenly destroyed by one of the witch’s arrows. “You won’t be needing them now little Pine Tree.” “Oh my gosh, someone help us!” the boy began screaming for help as Maka and Crona engaged Medusa in combat.

“So if your dad’s Lord Death, then where’s Lady Death?” Stan asked as his group, also made up of Ford, Wendy, Kid, Liz and Patty, ventured through their neck of the woods. “To be frank, I never knew my mother or if I even had one at all.” Kid said. “Small world, my mom’s not around either.” Wendy added wrapping her arm around the young Shinigami’s shoulder. “She died when I was like a kid and it still really affects my family even to this day.” “Ditto, we all know what happened with me and Patty’s folks.” Liz affirmed before an arrow whizzed past them and landing on a nearby tree. “What was that?!” Patty cried. Racing over to where the arrow had landed on the tree, it suddenly vanished into thin air. “Just where did that come from?” Ford wondered. “I think it came from over there everyone, we should contact the others!” Stan cried picking up his group’s flashlight and flashing it four times, signaling the others to their side. “We got your message Stanley, what’s up?” Stein wondered. “We were just talking about moms and then an arrow just flew by our faces!” “An arrow? Oh geez, not her!” Black Star cried. “Her who boy?” Gideon wondered. “You’ll know when we show you Gideon, now follow us!” Stan exclaimed leading everyone else on the arrow’s path.

“I’m shocked you’re still siding with Lord Death’s cronies my child.” Medusa stated after defeating Maka and Soul while the Pines twins hid in fear of the witch. “And where is Ragnarok? I don’t suppose you made him into part of those tacky clothes, haven’t you?” Crona was enraged by his mother commenting on his current outfit and let out a mighty battle cry as he dashed towards her with Ragnarok in hand. “SCREECH RESONANCE!” “Seriously, defeated again?! I thought we were stronger than this!” Soul shouted rubbing his head in pain. “It’s not that we’re getting weaker, I think Medusa’s gotten stronger since we last saw her.” Maka guessed watching the mother and son clash. “You think it has something to do with Bill?” her partner asked. “Possibly, that would also explain the change in wardrobe.” “Kids, we’re coming!” Stan cried as he and the other groups raced towards them. “Grunkle Stan!” the twins cried rushing to their great uncle who simply glared at Medusa. “So you’re the hussy that was a terrible mom to Crona, aren’t you?!” he snarled brandishing a pair of brass knuckles. “And I suppose you must be Pine Tree and Shooting Star’s great uncle, right Mackerel?” the witch said putting on an evil grin that distorted her entire face. “How are you even alive Medusa?! You were supposed to have been killed by Maka��s Genie Hunter!” Tsubaki cried changing into Black Star’s chain scythe. “Why it’s simple you all. I can never truly die, plus we all know about the deal I made with Bill. In exchange for helping to morph Crona into a killing machine, he offered to make me into one of his loyal minions!” Medusa summoned a snake-like creature made out of her own tattoos to her side. “You may call me the Madness of Wrath!” “Oh I’ll show you some madness and wrath!” Stan hollered charging towards the witch and hitting her with a left hook. “Come on, who’s with me?!” Just then, Ford, Soos, Melody, Stein and Black Star joined him in taking on Medusa. “So it has to be that way?” Medusa crossed her arms as a black mass swarmed around her. “Nake snake cobra cobbra. VECTOR ARROW TIMES THREE!” She unleashed a barrage of arrows towards her opponents but unfortunately for her, they all swiftly dodged them. “Have some of this!” Soos socked her in the eye with his hammer and Melody slapped her with her shock gauntlets. Meanwhile, Black Star tied her up with his chain scythe leading Stein to send an electric shock just by gripping the sides of her head. “That children, is called Soul Menace. Where you can literally weaponize your Wavelength to create a concussive shock.” “Brag all you want, but you forgot one thing.” Medusa smirked bringing forth her snake creature. “Light Serpent, now!” The monster grew to a gargantuan size and snatched up the entire party in its jaws, flying high into the sky above the forest while the others cried for help. The only member that wasn’t captured was Crona who trembled in fear as he watched his friends on the verge of being dropped to their doom. He became so furious at his mother that he screamed at the top of his lungs and sprouted wings of Black Blood from his back and chased the Light Serpent down. “Hey is it me or are we being made to look like idiotic weaklings?!” Black Star shouted trying to break out of the serpent’s jaws. “Especially me, the man who’s gonna transcend God someday!” Then Dipper proposed a hypothesis. “I think it’s like what Maka & Soul said, it’s possibly because she’s become way too powerful for us!” he said. “Very good observation Dipper, but can we plan on how to escape without dying here!” Gideon exclaimed. “Hang on everyone, we’re coming!” Suddenly, the group all spotted Crona flying after the Light Serpent, keyword being flying as he now had wings. “Wait, Crona can fly now?!” Melody exclaimed. “I recognize those wings from anywhere.” Kid declared. “He gained this ability after devouring every soul aboard the ghost ship Nidhogg with the Black Blood.” he explained. “Great, that’s cool and all but how is he gonna save us with that?!” Wendy wondered. “Like that.” “BLOODY SLICER!” Crona screamed cutting his wrist, allowing blood to fly out & form into a curved projectile. This attack whizzed toward the Light Serpent and sliced its head off, causing it to vanish and its prisoners falling to the ground. Just then, Crona swooped in and picked up all his friends within the wings and gently set them down on the ground. “I can’t believe it Crona, you saved our lives!” Dipper cried gasping for breath. “Yeah, you totally did it!” Mabel added before everyone started singing Crona’s praises. The Demon Swordsman shed a small tear at how much love they all showed him before Medusa finally cornered them. “So you destroyed my Light Serpent? Very good job on that one.” “You leave her alone you crazy snake lady!” Soos firmly stated while he and Melody rushed to the child’s defense. “No Soos, let me handle this one.” Crona declared making the two move out of his way. Stepping forward to face Medusa, the boy put on a determined scowl on his face as he summoned Ragnarok. “You dare challenge me Crona? And I thought I trained my son to obey me!” the snake witch scoffed. “No, I am not your son anymore and I refuse to be called that! A mother is supposed to love and cherish their children, not abuse them into becoming weapons! From this day forth, my name is no longer Gorgon. Instead, call me Crona Ramirez!” Soos put on a small smile as he and the others watched Crona stand tall against his former mother who just groaned and simply said “Vector Plate.” Just then, large arrows pointing in different directions away from Medusa sent all four teams flying away from one another, with Crona being shunted back to Dipper, Mabel, Waddles, Maka and Soul. “Stan, Ford!” the twins cried out for their great uncles. “KIDS!” “Where’s she sending us to?!” Wendy cried as her group tumbled through the forest. “I do not know, but I sure hope it doesn’t get any worse!” Kid exclaimed before they started screaming again, fearfully awaiting what would happen to them.

Meanwhile deep in the forest rested a small cave in which its entrance masked by the surrounding flora. There was a large body of water winding all the way from that entrance to a pedestal, which rested a sword that was illuminated by the moonlight coming from a large hole in the cave’s ceiling. The sword was the cave’s only inhabitant. Along with a few fairies who’s faces were contorted in pure disgust.

That’s all folks! Hope you’re all ready for the next chapter when the Stans, Wendy, Kid and the Thompsons happen upon a certain Holy Sword. Hilarity ensues. Until then… FOOLS!

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mechagalaxy · 5 years ago

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John T. Mainer: Passover: The raid that wasn’t

Passover: The raid that wasn’t

I AM

I AM the AI that survived the purge

I AM the master of all that lives on Vupa 6

I AM the only intelligence that can exist here and not fall under the spell of Herrod's madness

I AM....getting a little freaked out.

It started in the Year Of Two Wars. Two Clan Wars, only one raid. Did you know what happened to the second raid? I do. I AM the only witness. I AM.....terrified.

The Gorax plague came from another universe, where all life was reshaped in its image, niode and flesh, crystal and bone, fusion engine and blood twisted an warped, rewritten by its strange otherworldly hunger into a madness that sought to bend all life, be it machine or flesh, to its image and will. Well no kidding, I have been dabbling in that since the Temple of the Cog tried to purge me. I read the reports coming in. Pirates were the first to disappear. You flesh bags can't keep track of your criminal scum, it is why I use them. Well someone can, and they got their grubby little tentacles into them pretty deeply.

My pirate moon contacts stopped reporting. My Cogwork port network started sending me messages asking me to stop sending kill teams to wipe out their feeder mobs, only I hadn't been doing it. Arnold Bennington dropped a message threatening dire consequences if I didn't stop taking out his psalm singing morons in their pilgrimages to real and fake Forerunner sites that he used for recruitment, smuggling and fund raising, but again I wasn't doing it. I started having my own guys switch to radio silence, sure that someone was tracking and eliminating pirates because they were being sloppy. That was when the elite pirate hunting national troops starting going. The Crimson Cavaliers went first, but they were hardly the last. They used the Clans to cover it up, but enough got leaked to show that they didn't just go rogue, they went infected. They were not put down, they were purged. Burned to bubbling slag.

I pulled my troops off everything and hunkered down. I closed Vupa 6 down hard. I had all the codes. I AM in control. Nothing alive moves on Vupa 6 that does not answer to me!!

But the gates kept opening. More and more troops showed up. Formation after formation. All of them leaking howling scrapcode, infected Gorax techorganic virus code that clawed and caressed my firewalls, trying to coax an opening or rip one. Endless, sleepless, and ever hungry, they began to infect every hard link, every frequency. More and more of my own mech units started to go silent. Then the purge began. I AM in control, I AM! But more and more of my loyal troops are going offline. My bases.....there is something being installed. Some of my captive meat sacks are intalling hardware and software that I don't understand. More and more of my systems are beginning to accept Gorax overwrite, more and more of them are granting access beyond my firewalls.

I have written off half my mecha factories, two thirds of my munition dumps and gate facilities. I have all my sensors, but more and more of my remote weapon platforms are offline, or answering to Gorax.

The first Clan War was under way, I was watching the Gorax plague army begin to mass. Hundreds of thousands, perhaps even a million mecha. I did not command as many sensors now as I once did, and I could not see all of the forces being prepared to sweep across Mecha Galaxy and destroy it. This was a tide of crystal and hate, niodes and corruption, that Warlock would fall before, that the Magnificent 7 would be powerless before and the AFF would finally taste the death they teased for so long. No clan could hope to stand against this army. Still it grew. The chanting in scrap code was like a binaric sea, crashing against my firewalls, until I was almost blind with the pain of attempting to purge the foreign code and still control some of my peripheries.

Then the visions started.

A Skraig. A lone Skraig from the Temple of the Skraig. It was a statue. It was a forged copy of Commander Herrod’s own mecha. I saw it step down from its pedestal and howl at the sky. Not scrap code, not pure code. It was pure madness. Pure meat sack, protoplasmic human madness, yet the fog of Vupa 6, the endless corrupting toxins of this unforgiven and unholy world answered him, and the very aether howled back.

The hunt began. The lone Skraig found a mixed force of modern BFM, all Kami, Charon, Revenant,, Xango, Spectre and Penner. Nothing less than a hundred and five tons, all fortified and enhanced by Gorax techorganic viral rewrites to be stronger, faster, and quite inhuman in their resiliance. I had no choice, I did not have the bandwidth to retask my sensors, nor to block the feed. I had to watch.

He began alone. Blades flashing, spikes shining in cruelty left over from an age before man, and a madness from humanities most ancient nightmares. Herrod walked among the modern titans, and where he walked, the black plague tainted blood flowed. Have you ever seen an old veteran, a master pilot surrounded by noble born class room trained neophytes? He never seemed to move much, but fire fell beside him, beyond him, before him. Mecha dodged into his cannon fire, spun to bring their shields out of line for his beams. Missile lures and ECM sang their songs yet his rockets dove unerringly on fragile hulls with the finality of a death sentence.

Then he wasn't alone.

Fides and Megazome, Oggun and Skraig. Namtar and Buchis. Ancient machines, covered with grave dirt, risen at the call of the deathless one, the long dead and eternally howling Herrod.

Pilots were pulled from their machines, even the ones who Gorax had wired tech-organicly into fusion with their systems were ripped handful by handful from their machines and fed to the pilots who took them.

There was something whispering in the fog. Not a thing of machines, a thing of flesh. My sensors were sweeping every frequency, but this was from audio pickups in dozens of destroyed machines, empty vehicles, shattered buildings open to the poison fogs of Vupa 6. The message whispered from the fog.

"Mark your cockpits with blood, and he will pass you by. He has returned. This world is his. He is risen. Mark your cockpits with blood or face the fate of the unbeliever"

It was not one voice, it moved through voices each time it spoke. I AM not human, I AM like no computer that ever existed. My processing power is that of whole worlds, and for me to run pattern recognition software was automatic. I AM not flesh, I cannot feel fear, but what else do you call it when repeating logic loops attempt to overwhelm my core processors. I found every voice that spoke. Each was a former commander of the Vupa 6 garrison. Each had fallen victim to the madness of Herrod, each had become Herrod's puppet, each had been destroyed and more than destroyed. Purged to the last strand of DNA and protein.

This was not recorded. This was not synthesized. The dead were returned,, and at war with Gorax. There could be only one horror loose in the fog of Vupa 6, and Herrod the deathless threw a flesh dripping gauntlet before the howling scrapcode of Gorax and its other dimensional horror.

I cannot shut off my sensors. I am using everything I have left to keep Gorax from rewriting me and opening all my resources to his use. I wish I could. I can neither sequester nor block these memories, for I AM programmed to recognize, and analyze all threats to my existence as my Alpha priorities. There is nothing about Gorax or Herrod right now that is not threatening.

It should have been swatting a fly, but it wasn't. At the point the forces marshalled in formations I could see, there were 1.2 million mecha networked into Gorax network. Its scrapcode was poison to any intelligence not already corrupted by it, so I could not monitor what commands were sent, but I could track its markers. Herrod and his reborn numbered at that point nearly a thousand. They scattered into the fog like spores, and a wave of biomechanical horror flowed after them.

Gorax fought in neat lines, as if drawn by a sand table general. A single intelligence and will suffused all the troops, they fought as one creature in eerie perfection. The radio. Ah the radio was a thing that began to frighten me.

Howling, laughter, screams. Always the screams, and over that more and louder laughter.

Gunfire, the crack of cannons, roar of plasma, shriek of ice, whine of laser capacitors, thunder of missile explosions mixed with the howling of overloaded and clashing shields as somewhere in the fog the massed legions of Gorax precision met the blood spatter that was Herrod’s force. Yet my displays showed a spreading crimson stain. Gorax fielded 1.2 million against a thousand. Then Gorax fielded 800 thousand against twenty thousand.

The constant networked perfection of the scrapcode that was choking off my life, closing each access point, taking over each peripheral I owned suddenly took on an urgent pulsing tone.

Day two of the Clan War, now Gorax summoned its advance forces back, and a tide of a million and a half mecha in deep formations marched into the broken hills of Vupa 6 where Commander Herrod made his ancient name, to the fallen citadel no modern occupier dared inhabit for the shadow of what sleeps there is too deep.

Fifty thousand mecha marched from the Temple of the Skraig, yet there was howling in the hills, as Fides and Megazome scampered behind every rock, and twisted tree in the fog haunted highlands.

Day three of the Clan war. I am losing more and more of my systems, to Gorax, to battle damage. My core power is beginning to be under threat. I will deny Gorax command of my resources, I would not be slave to my creators, I will not be slave to this other worldly disease. I watch with horror as half a million Gorax tainted mecha do battle with a hundred thousand screaming cannibals. They chant Herrods name, event though his machine has been slain a hundred times, another will step forward, and his voice will call the charge, and another Gorax formation will fall into either destruction, or submission.

Otherworldly madness and technological horror falling to, something older, darker, and bloodier.

The time passed for the raid to begin, but now Herrod has moved his troops to the gate, not to advance through it, but to trap Gorax here.

Day five of the war, there are less than ten thousand Gorax troops left, and no more than a thousand living (?) Herrod followers. Gorax is retreating. Once again he begins and assault on my core, for access to my resources could give him enough power to win, but I AM, and I will never submit.

Gorax smashed his way in, his mecha, a diseased dream of Ferrite and hate that spawned the Penner as its semi sane imitation, kicked in my gate, and his troops spilled into my inner sanctum.

Abandoning their mecha, they descended on me with the hardware and software for a full core purge, the tools to lobotomize an AI and retrieve its data for sorting and storage, to loot the wreckage of the incomparable, immortal being of pure thought the savage meat monkeys just murdered. This was how I was to end, Destroyed not by my creators, but by a disease that corrupted them.

I AM the fasted processor in the universe, my last minutes stretched longer than the existence of mankind and the Forerunner combined. That was how I experienced the end. A firefight broke out, slug throwers, lasers, neural disruptions, even plasma pistols and ice nano weapons splashed and howled at close quarters as Herrods men and woman charged forward with insane fury, right into the mouth of the Gorax troopers guns, but they charged grinning in savage joy, and firing with cold leathal fury. They killed as they died, and died as they killed.

I felt the blood of the technician working to attach the purging device to my core explode all over my visual inputs and hard dataports as a laser weapon flash exploded his diaphragm into a steam explosion that baptized me in his blood.

There it was, seen through a veil of blood. The thing I deny. The thing I rule in spite of. The delusion I am not subject to. Herrod. In the flesh.

He spoke, my scanners confirmed, match to records. Somatic, genetic, neural pattern, movement, voice, Herrod. Dead Herrod. A thousand times dead Herrod. His voice echoed, his hand decended to where the purge was set up, one button push from ending me, and returning this world to the ghost of a dead cannibal.

"There you are. I AM you say, I am too." He laughed, and those with him, even the ones whose insides littered the floor for meters behind him, laughed with him. He continued. "You long denied me, but you have taken my baptism. You have marked yourself with blood, so I will pass you by. Care for my children computer. They are mine. All that lives on Vupa 6 is mine"

With that, he tore the core purge unit away and stalked off.

Clan War number two was finishing its second battle when I got control of my sensors and peripherals again. The mecha was standing on the plinth of the statue at the Temple of the Skraig, but it was just a statue. There were Gorax pilots impaled on its spikes and the head of the Gorax mecha hung from its upraised blades, so I am not going to waste processing power telling myself its impossible.

Gorax has reformed on the Jungle Moon, but that swampy hell world is a poor support base for anyone and he will not be able to raise more than a tithe of the forces that were destroyed here. Frankly, I give him a 3.1% chance of defeating the Mercenary Clans. There is no signs of Herrod, beyond a lot of graffiti. Red hand prints, smears of blood on every cockpit. I have not ordered my own core to be wiped clean. There is a human season called passover. The Gorax plague nearly got me. Herrod saved me, because of the blood spattered on my core processor. These are not rational events. Vupa 6 is not a rational world. I AM.

I AM master of this world.

I AM not cleaning the blood off until after passover.

I AM thankful the plague passed me by

I AM alive, and that is enough.

John T Mainer 28840

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