"It's a lovely evening," Niain smiled. "Wouldn't you say?"

AETHERAL SPACE 16.38

"Dark of the Mind"

Ruth Blaine took a deep breath.

What the hell was happening on Serendipity?! This was at least the third time today when everything had suddenly seemed to go to hell. First, Dragan had attacked the Seat of Man. Then, the Sheshanaga had opened fire on the city out of nowhere. And now even Darkstar was here?

She looked warily at the pale man before her. The last time they'd fought, she'd barely managed to survive. If Bruno and Serena hadn't been there…

A thought occurred. The last time Ruth had seen them, Bruno and Serena had been chasing after her and Dragan from a distance. If they hadn't lost the trail in the chaos of the battle, then there was a good chance they were on their way here right now. If Ruth just managed to stall for time, then they could face Niain together -- again.

Stalling. Okay. She could do that. She could still talk, if nothing else.

"What are you doing here?" Ruth asked, voice low.

Niain chuckled. "I wasn't talking to you, puppet of the Shepherdess. Oh, actually… I suppose you're a free agent now, aren't you?"

An image flashed in Ruth's mind. The image of the Shepherdess, mutilated and dying at Ultraviolet Tower, the macabre sight that Luna had taken her to see.

"That was you?" Ruth asked, swallowing back her emotions, keeping her voice and gaze steady. "You killed the Shepherdess?"

Niain rubbed the back of his head bashfully. "Haha, sorry, sorry. Guilty as charged. It wasn't an easy thing, but in the end I was able to provide euthanasia for that poor old lady. Did you like it?"

Ruth grit her teeth. "Did I like what?"

"Watching her die, of course, silly," Niain giggled. "She had her claws in you, didn't she? I'm sure you appreciate the freedom. You can thank me if you feel like it."

"I'm not gonna go cry at her grave," Ruth glared. "But don't pretend like you're some good guy either. I've read up on Darkstar. I know what you are."

She'd be a hypocrite if she judged someone for killing… but the barely restrained glee that seemed to lace everything Niain did, every word he said? Yeah, she could judge that. It pissed her the hell off.

If condemnation bothered him any, Niain didn't show it. "Okay, cool," he said, looking away from her. "Like I said, though, I wasn't talking to you, haha. Do you want me to help you out down there, my Supreme?"

If Dragan was aware of what he was being asked, he gave no reply.

"Ah…" Niain scratched the back of his head, eyes flicking back to Ruth. "You've really done a number on him, haven't you? You're such a barbarian, haha. Still, that's no good. I really need to take him back with me no matter what."

Ruth narrowed her eyes, and the metal gauntlets of the Skeletal Set -- no claws -- manifested over her hands. Like a boxer, she raised them up. Exhausted or not, Skipper hadn't raised her to stand aside for monsters like this.

"You really think I'll just let that happen?" she asked, a quiet death in her tone.

"No," Niain shook his head happily. "I don't! McCoy, could you present our counterargument?"

The cold barrel of a revolver planted itself against Ruth's head.

"I wouldn't risk it," a woman said.

Slowly, as if wary of setting the weapon off, Ruth's eyes slid over to the side -- to the owner of the gun. A woman wrapped from head to toe in white bandages, with a dark red trenchcoat and fedora hanging off of her form. The gun she was holding was white, too -- like it was carved from bone, morbid glyphs etched into the frame.

McCoy, apparently.

A crackle of red Aether ran between Ruth's hair and her eyes. "You really think a bullet'll be enough to put me down?" she asked.

McCoy replied in a husky voice, muffled slightly by the bandages. "These aren't normal bullets," she explained. "Each one is sourced from a human corpse. They're potent. Like I said… I wouldn't risk it."

Ruth wrinkled her nose in disgust. Bullets made from the dead? From what she knew of these people, she doubted Darkstar was raiding graveyards, either.

"You'd spend human lives just for something like that?" Ruth asked, disgusted.

"There's nothing cheaper in the world than human lives," McCoy replied, matter-of-fact.

Ruth considered her situation with desperate calm. Bluff as she might, the events of the day had exhausted her. Right now, she didn't have the infusion required to take any particularly strong attacks. Assuming this McCoy woman wasn't also bluffing, it probably wasn't advisable to get shot in the head right now.

Even then, even if she was coming into this fresh, last time Niain alone had nearly taken her out. She'd gotten stronger, sure, but taking on him and someone else at the same time? Someone with abilities she didn't know? It was basically the definition of a bad idea.

And yet… red Aether continued to buzz around her. She couldn't just let them take Dragan. She couldn't just let them do as they pleased.

She had a responsibility.

Dragan.

The thought occurred to her in a flash. Right now, the only thing keeping him immobile were the Skeletal claws still embedded into his nervous system. If he'd come back to his senses, even just a little, then he'd understand who the greater threats were here. Quickly manifesting a Set would be difficult for her right now…

…but quickly demanifesting one? Easy as pie.

It wasn't even noticeable that she'd done anything. As Ruth put her hands up, she recorded her claws back into her Aether, making sure to cloak the technique so no crimson spark from Dragan's wounds would give the game away. As she did so, she spoke.

"You didn't shoot me in the head straight away," she pointed out, eyes flicking between McCoy and Niain. "That mean you got plans for me too?"

"For you, not plans," Niain smiled. "I'd call it an improvisation, haha. I lost a dear friend of mine earlier today, and I'm in the market for substitutes. If Ruri thought you were Supreme material…"

He raised his arm towards her -- and Ruth saw now that his hand was covered in insects, spiders and centipedes, covering every inch of skin like it was a nest. His smile stretched out further, becoming just slightly obscene as his eyes narrowed in anticipation.

"...well," he breathed. "That's good enough for me. Ahura --"

"Gemini --"

The moment was chaos. Just as quickly as Dragan interrupted Niain, leaping off the floor and preparing to fire a Gemini Railgun, he himself was interrupted. Only… his interruption was far more terminal.

Dragan Hadrien's head went flying off his shoulders.

Ruth's heart stopped in her chest as she watched the severed head fly through the air. Her skin felt cold, like she was a corpse herself, as she watched Dragan's body collapse to the floor again. She tried to take a breath, but it was like all of the air in the world had suddenly been drained away.

He was dead. He was dead. In a single helpless instant, he was dead.

Dragan's head came back down as it completed it's flight…

ACTIVATE AETHER ABILITY

DEMIURGE TERRITORIUM

ESTABLISHING TERRITORY T7

ADJUSTING PROPERTY TimeDiff (T7)

1s = 0.000001s

…and froze in mid-air, suddenly captured inside a glowing amber cube.

"Huh…?" Ruth breathed.

Footsteps approached through the darkness -- and a moment later, their owner came into view. A young woman with white-and-orange hair, holding up a hand crackling with amber Aether. The owner of the ability that had frozen Dragan's head. Smirking, she looked over at Niain.

"That was a little reckless, don't you think?" she said. "But, ah… what else should we expect from a new hire?"

Her gaze flicked over to the other person that had just arrived. After all, this girl wasn't the one who had sent Dragan's head flying from his shoulders. The one who had done that was crouching on the ground… blood still dripping from the arm-blade he'd used to deliver the lethal slash.

Gregori Hazzard.

The Special Officer looked at the girl with mild interest as he rose to his feet. "You're Pandershi? This guy…" he jerked his head towards Niain. "...said you'd start arriving soon. It was a calculated gamble."

"And if you'd lost that gamble," the girl's smirk was cold. "You'd have destroyed our most valuable asset."

Gregori ignored the rebuke. "Niain over there says you can help me out with something."

The girl raised her eyebrows. "Oh? I've been volunteered?"

"Come now," Niain smiled, standing between the two. "Surely we can discuss all that later, haha?"

Ruth went to step forward, but McCoy pressed the revolver more firmly against her head, and she quickly got the message.

"He's…" she said, mouth dry, looking at Dragan's frozen head. "... he's not dead?"

"I've already confirmed via surveillance that this man can regenerate from a head alone," the girl apparently called Pandershi said, plucking the cube from the air and tossing it up and down in her hand. "Niain, what's the holdup? We have what we came for."

Niain sighed, lowering his hand. "Ah, I was in the middle of something, though… I really hope people don't keep interrupting me, haha. How long until the rest of you arrives?"

The rest of her?

What the hell was he talking about? Now that Ruth thought about it, though, the name Pandershi was familiar. Zephyr Pandershi, Director of the Pandershi Foundation. The guy who hadn't showed up for the meeting at the start of the day. Was this girl a relative of his or something?

Instead of answering Niain's questions with words, the girl just held up a finger -- and more footsteps began to approach from every angle. Ruth looked around, careful not to provoke McCoy, watching as more and more people came into view.

Men and women, young and old, all of them sporting the same white-and-orange hair as this girl. Some of them were empty-handed, while others were carrying cargo… but, unsettlingly enough, they all had the exact same look in their eyes. Gregori whistled to himself as he took in the dozen new arrivals.

One of them -- a long-haired, androgynous-looking young man -- had arrived with an orange cube of his own, hovering over his shoulder. This one was much bigger, however, containing a cylindrical automatic. The Tower?! Ruth's eyes widened.

That wasn't even the strangest cargo this crowd had brought with them, though. Another one of the newcomers -- an older-looking gentleman with a sharp white-and-orange moustache -- had an unconscious girl slung over his shoulder. Her black hair hung low like a sash down his back.

The girl looked familiar, too… wait. Wasn't that the former Supreme Heir? Aclima, the girl that Muzazi had been guarding?!

"I found her just outside where Muzazi was fighting your man Rhodes," the gentleman chuckled. "I couldn't resist such an opportunity to help a comrade."

"Oh, that's great," Niain said cheerfully. "Haha, my heart feels so warm! But I'm pretty sure Noel was with her too? What happened to her?"

Another newcomer, a young woman, shrugged casually. "These things happen. Unfortunately, young Noel had already fallen into the hands of the authorities by the time I arrived on the scene. I couldn't risk losing little Aclima in the process of saving her." She smiled sweetly. "It's not a huge loss. Anything she can do, I can do just as well, no?"

For a long moment, the girl and Niain just stared into each other's eyes, a sudden sharp tension filling the air. Despite the fact that they were apparently comrades, Ruth felt the unmistakable buzz of imminent violence between them. After that long moment, though…

…Niain just chuckled and shrugged.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Haha, you're so right," he said. "It's sad, but such things happen in battle. Is our exit ready?"

"I have the Lover in cloaking mode," the young man with the Tower said, his voice filled with the same self-satisfied smugness as the middle-aged man and the girl. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder towards empty air. "It arrived with the rest of me. We can begin the transfer whenever we're ready."

"Sounds like fun, haha," Niain smiled, raising his arm once more in Ruth's direction. "Start the preparation sequence, and I'll just --"

"BASTARDS!"

Gregori looked over as he finally stood up. Each and every one of the new arrivals turned their heads as one. McCoy remained completely still.

The smile vanished from Niain's face.

"Ugh," he scowled.

There was a mighty crash as Serena leapt into their midst, swinging Bruno as a sword right through the gathering. Niain, Gregori, and most of the newcomers leapt back to avoid the blow -- but the purple sword sliced right through McCoy's arm holding the revolver, sending it clattering down to the ground.

Skeletal Set!

Ruth manifested the parts of her original armour that she could still muster, claws shining in the citylight as she lunged for the girl holding Dragan's head. She didn't know what was going on here -- but if Darkstar's goal was Dragan, then she sure as hell wasn't going to let them have him. The moment of surprise belonged to the crew of the Slipstream.

Except…

"Corpse Construct," said McCoy coldly. "EIN SOF."

Crack.

Click.

Crunch.

A shiver ran down Ruth's spine for what felt like the hundredth time that day. The instant she'd passed by McCoy, a torrent of truly abominable Aether had washed over her. She'd been running with everything she had to secure Dragan -- but at that moment, animal instinct overtook her… and she had no choice but to turn and look.

The dead were flowing like a river.

Countless corpses were pouring forth from McCoy's orange Aether, their bodies being broken and broken and broken as they surged like a liquid rope into McCoy's waiting hand. Hundreds of corpses, thousands, crammed into so small a space that they became like mincemeat. As Ruth watched, mouth agape, the human slurry formed a new shape: a gargantuan greatsword, nearly five times the size of its wielder. McCoy held it in her one remaining hand as if it were as light as a feather.

It was far larger than the genuine article… as if all that tremendous power couldn't be fully contained by a substitute shell. An unearthly pressure emanated from it, like the shriveled heart of a god -- waiting to beat again at any second.

No fucking way.

Ruth raised her claws.

"Are you sure?" the bandaged woman asked calmly.

Everyone had stopped at the shadow of Kadmon's might. The girl was clutching Dragan's severed head close to her chest protectively. Gregori seemed half-a-second away from folding himself up and flying away. Even Niain, watching from the back of the group, seemed somewhat concerned.

"McCoy…" he said slowly. "Maybe not here?"

"It stopped them, didn't it?" McCoy snapped back.

Indeed, Bruno and Serena had stopped their charge towards Dragan as well. The weight of death had fallen upon their backs. It wasn't as if they'd given up, though. Bruno had assumed a four-armed form, projecting a barrier from each, while Serena held a hefty metal greatsword -- prepared to clash with the reproduction of EIN SOF if it came down to it. Ruth moved over to join her friends, more pieces of the Skeletal Set manifesting over her body with each step.

If she just got the chance to catch her breath… she was sure she could bring out the Empereur one more time.

Another one of the newcomers stepped forward -- this one a young man wearing a white trenchcoat, his hair (of course) white with orange streaks -- and spread his arms wide. This one Ruth definitely recognised. She'd seen pictures in the news about the incoming meeting, after all.

This was Zephyr Pandershi.

"My, oh my," Pandershi chuckled, turning on the spot. "Niain, it seems we have an audience."

An array of lights were twinkling in the air all around the Seat of Man's roof. With all the chaos, Ruth hadn't noticed them at first -- but tiny camera automatics had arrived, observing this bizarre gathering from every angle. It made sense. The news corporations had had these things out in force all day, and Ruth and Dragan's battle had hardly been subtle.

"Auspicious timing," Pandershi grinned widely at the cameras. "I would like to make three announcements to the people of the UAP, right here and now."

He held up three fingers, as if the audience was too stupid to know how many he meant otherwise.

"Firstly," he began. "Am amended introduction. My name is Zephyr Pandershi, Director of the Pandershi Foundation -- the finest scientific mind the galaxy has ever known." He bowed theatrically. When he looked back up, his amber eyes were narrowed, a sly grin on his face."And also… one of the leaders of the clandestine organization known as Darkstar."

Niain raised an eyebrow at the word 'leaders', but said nothing.

"Secondly," Pandershi swung around dramatically to face another camera. "My mission statement, and proof of concept. You'll notice there are quite a few beautiful men and women in my vicinity right now, all of whom bear a noticeable resemblance to yours truly. Who are these people? Close family of mine, perhaps? Oh, your defective brains must be simply overheating trying to reason out the answer."

"Don't worry," chuckled the middle-aged man.

"I'll tell you," giggled the young woman.

"Right here and now," smirked the androgynous young man.

"They are all of them…" Pandershi grinned giddily. "...me. Not clones or copies, no, don't misunderstand -- but one mind snaking through many vessels."

Ruth's eyes flicked between the faces of the crowds… and yeah, she could see it. The gleam in their eyes, the smirk on their lips. It wasn't just that they had similar expressions. They had the same expression, translated across a dozen different faces.

This Zephyr Pandershi was still one person… but he was one person with countless eyes and faces and limbs. Could something like that even be called human anymore?

"There's even more of me back home on Nehr Mut," Pandershi gloated, as if someone had doubted his numbers. "Right now, my consciousness is stretched across this galaxy of ours."

He snatched one of the cameras from the air, bringing it closer to his face. He adjusted the angle slightly, making it as flattering as possible, before continuing.

"I am one step below a god," he said quietly. "And my foot is halfway up."

He squeezed, crushing the camera in his grip -- and then his eyes flicked up towards another camera in the sky.

"And third…" he purred. "I would like to take this opportunity… to claim responsibility for today's attack."

Niain cocked his head, but Pandershi went on, ignoring him.

"The arrival of the Supreme, the assault on the Seat of Man, the bombardment of the Sheshanaga -- all of these things were brought about by the machinations of ourselves at Darkstar. I truly hope you enjoyed the festivities," he grinned viciously. "Personally, I believe they serve as a fitting exit celebration."

He threw his arms wide again, addressing the swarm of automatics like an actor on the stage.

"From this moment forward, the Pandershi Foundation officially secedes from the Unified Alliance of Planets!" he boomed. "We claim Nehr Mut and all associated systems as our independent territory!"

In the darkness of an underground bunker, the remaining members of the Central Governing Council watched the display at the Seat of Man with a variety of expressions.

The Oba was stone-faced as he wrapped bandages around his arm. He'd sustained an injury fighting off combat automatics that had reached the evacuation zone -- but, judging by the spinning of his golden Principality, that hadn't slowed his thinking down any.

The Landgrave clicked his tongue and scowled as he watched Pandershi rant and rave to the entire galaxy. "Arrogant bastard," he muttered.

Only the Tsarina of Adrust, Agnes von Frostburn, was looking at someone other than Pandershi. Her eyes were fixed on the faint, barely visible figure of her own bodyguard -- her own Nebula -- Ruth Blaine. Inches away from her goal, an impulse away from crisis.

Two thoughts held equal prominence in Agnes' head at that moment.

What can you even do?

And…

Do something, Ruth.

Pandershi still wasn't done sucking his own dick. Thankfully, that was a metaphor, not that that made it any less excruciating to watch.

"Oh, and just in case you good people at UniteFleet get any ideas about retribution for today's events… I regret to inform you that all lightpoints leading into said territory were mysteriously destroyed, oh, about thirty minutes ago. As of right now, the only way to Nehr Mut…"

He raised two fingers --

"...is right here."

-- and snapped them.

Light washed over the roof as a cloaking device was deactivated, revealing a hefty automatic floating over their gathering. It was the size of a car, dark in colour, shaped like a teardrop -- and all around it, indecipherable glyphs and numbers flickered in the air.

"The Lovers," Pandershi grinned. "The only known method of true teleportation in the galaxy. It'll have us home with its counterpart on Nehr Mut before you know it."

Slowly, McCoy stepped around the Slipstream crew to stand beneath the Arcana Automatic with the rest of Darkstar. The replica EIN SOF still quivered in her hand. As Ruth watched, fury and caution pulling sweat down her face, the floating glyphs began to intensify.

Whatever this thing was doing, it was about to finish doing it.

"And with that," Pandershi bowed one more time to the galaxy. "Our night of revelry comes to an end. I bid you all --"

NEBULA SIX

Beckett del Brainen

Underframe

Nebula of Brainen

"-- eh?"

The roof beneath their gathering exploded upwards as a huge flexile creature -- like a sandworm made of bones -- smashed through. Pandershi were sent flying in every direction by the impact, while the cube containing Dragan's head -- which seemed to be the creature's target -- flew up into the air.

Empereur Set!

Ruth seized the opportunity, lunging for the flying cube with all the speed she could muster. If McCoy was going to use that absurd sword of hers, then she was going to use it. Ruth wasn't going to let fear keep her still when action needed to be taken.

Not again. Never again!

The Pandershi that hadn't been sent too far by the impact were scrambling to get back into range of the automatic called the Lover. Those that had no hope of returning in time, however, had engaged the creature in combat themselves -- firing off bombardments of glowing amber constructs without mercy. Behind Ruth, McCoy began to move…

Perfect Parry!

Perfect Parry!

Perfect Parry!

…but Bruno wasn't going to let her lift that sword, let alone swing it.

"Go!" he roared.

Impeccably timed barriers appeared around McCoy's arm and legs like shackles, holding her in place. Serena was charging at her, too, swinging at her while she was immobilized. All of this would only buy a moment. That was fine, though. A moment was all Ruth Blaine needed.

Kicking off the ground one last time, she launched herself towards the flying cube… and watched as it was snatched out of the air before her very eyes. At the last moment, the distant Niain had reached out with that white sphere of his -- and a long black hand had lunged out of it, seizing hold of the cube. The King of Darkstar smirked as the arm retracted, bringing Dragan's head into his grip.

The Lover had reached what seemed like critical condition, a shroud of light enveloping the area around them. Niain looked right at Ruth as he began to step back into it.

"See you around…" he said. "...Ruth Blaine."

Oh, hell no!

Ruth charged at Niain, crimson Aether flaring -- and even when he extended the white sphere again, unleashing a torrent of carnivorous flies, she continued to push against them to reach her enemy. No, to reach her friend. She wasn't about to let this bastard snatch Dragan Hadrien away from them again.

Similar pillars of light to the one around Niain had begun to appear all across the roof. McCoy leapt out of the way of one of Serena's swings, landing directly in the aurora. The Pandershi climbed and crawled over each other to get inside another. Even Gregori Hazzard, watching the entire clash with an air of distant amusement, stepped calmly into the light.

She wasn't going to make it. That cold certainty was running through Ruth's stomach like icy water. Even as she slowly closed the distance to Niain, she could see his form growing faint -- the Lover communicating him to its counterpart.

He was going to get away. He was going to --

"You," growled Atoy Muzazi.

Niain's eyes widened. Niain's head swung around. But before he could even do or say anything, Atoy Muzazi had already reached out with lightning speed and grabbed the King of Darkstar by the throat.

The former Full Moon was covered in burnt wounds, one eye blinded by swelling, one arm replaced by a charred stump. Even so, though, the resolve in his good eye seemed even brighter than the light all around, the light that was now enveloping him too. He must have snuck up on the group while Pandershi was busy yapping. But what was he even doing here?!

Atoy Muzazi answered that question for her.

"Where is she?!" he demanded, delirious from pain, squeezing Niain's throat tight. "Where's Aclima?!"

Aclima had just vanished along with part of Zephyr Pandershi, but it seemed that Muzazi had missed that. It was a wonder he was even standing, to be fair.

As Niain moved to defend himself against Muzazi, the torrent of flies abated, and Ruth took the chance to push forward. She broke through, already raising one fist high, ready to bring it down upon her enemy and retrieve Dragan. Niain smashed the back of his hand against Muzazi's face, dislodging his grip on his throat -- but even then, Muzazi lunged back in, biting down on the King of Darkstar's hand with all his strength like a rabid dog.

Ruth attacking from one direction. Muzazi attacking from another. Niain in the middle… and in his hand, the head of Dragan Hadrien.

The chaotic clash never achieved a full conclusion, however -- for right as blows were about to land, the light of the Lovers ignited over all of them…

…and when it cleared, all of them were gone.

The only ones left on the roof were Bruno and Serena del Sed. One step behind, one step too short. Bruno's hand was still outstretched, as if to reach out and seize hold of his friend in that last fruitless moment. It fell.

His scream of anguish echoed through the city.

Niain sighed. Oof. That had actually been a close one.

First that Aether Awakening's arrival, then Atoy Muzazi… if they'd ended up stuck on Serendipity after all that, things could have gotten very messy. If Zephyr hadn't gone taking liberties like that, they surely would have been gone by the time those parties arrived on the scene -- but still, there was no point in crying over spilt milk. In the end, they'd gotten what they came for, after all.

All around Niain was a world of cascading glyphs and numbers, a kaleidoscope of calculation. While the Lovers was capable of teleportation between its two segments, it wasn't an instant process. They'd exist as raw information within the transmitted signal for just a few minutes.

Nothing to do but sit and wait. When they arrived, they'd have to deal with Muzazi and Blaine right away, but first… a few moments of reflection. It was fortunate that Niain had ended up as part of the same data packet as his prize.

He held it up above his head, the grotesque diorama that Gregori and Zephyr had made. The severed head of a Supreme, frozen in time, sealed away in amber like something from the ancient past. Niain's gaze softened as he looked at it, his black eyes holding the faintest shimmer of adoration -- like a parent looking at their newborn child.

"I've waited a long time for this."

Niain smiled.

"My Supreme. My Prince."

The smile spread out into a grin slick with greedy saliva.

"My Panacea."

END OF ARC 16