Fiction:Radiant Heart

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"At long last... My quest shall soon come to an end."

With the coming of the 29th Century, the First Gigaquadrant sees the onset of a brand new era of change and political and technological progression and marks a new era of hope for the superpowers at play. Yet, within the depths of Frenzy Space, a galactic sub-sector of Segmentum Umbra of the ravaged by war between despots, warlords and petty kings following the dissolution of the, a mad crime-lord seeks the means to complete his ascension into godhood and crown himself as a New God among the galactic populace. Granted access to an artifact similar to that which saw the rise of the late Emperor Tyraz Breek, Kol Daren stands at the precipice divinity...

Can, the last hope in preventing the rise of the New God, finally fulfill the prophecy he had trained and fought for three decades to complete? Or will he fall, forced to break and suffer at the feet of an insane and maddened lord of darkness and watch as he begins a campaign to shatter the galactic superpowers that had kept his reign in check until now?

Chapter 1: Nightmares of the End
"No... Not this again! Not again!"

Kol Daren gasped, eyes widened and body trembling while tearing away the fine synth-silk bed covers with an almost instinctual motion. His heart spasmed unsteadily within his chest and tears welled within his desperate, dark eyes, his pupils contracted into black pinpricks as they glanced across the confines of his quarters. Scanning the furniture scattered across the room, he was met with sight of his own belongings and possessions - seats and chairs encased in leather tanned from sapient flesh, taxidermied models of beautiful women contorted into twisted yet erotic forms with their skin shredded, mauled and ripped, and numerous other foul and vile objects of the crime lord's interest veiled in the chamber's darkness. His breathing steadied once he laid eyes on his bedfellows, their bodies having become rigid and cold while the wounds since dried after his slumber.

He palmed his face, dragging blackened claws across his crest in a frothing concoction of anger and frustration. His head ached, the light from his dreams lingering behind his eyes to disorient him. A heavy cough and splutter, before Kol leaned his head over the side of his bed to release the steaming acidic contents of his stomach. The giant, naked and alone, had never felt so vulnerable, unaccustomed to the sickness and nightmares which plagued him. He was immortal after all, or so he preferred to believe. The unceasing trembling and shaking across his body was an alien experience and was not helped by the shiver coursing up his spine, forcing him to eye the sharp corners of his room with deep, bitter fury.

"You've nerve to trifle with me, worm," Kol choked out as he lifted himself from his bed, exposing his monstrous body, naked and splattered with blood and popped, crushed viscera across his scales. Wiping drool and vomit from his lips, Kol slowly twisted his head, eyeing each right angle corner he could set his gaze upon.

"I smell you... I can taste you. You are not welcome here," he spoke again, clenching a fist as he glared into the shadows a corner near the entrance of his quarters. Something was there, wearing the darkness like a shroud as its eyes pierced into Kol's soul, endless pits of lifeless, uncaring void that made mockery of the shadows that failed to obscure them. A far deeper, more terrible darkness prowled within those shadows, causing Kol to take a heavy, impatient step towards it.

"I am invited by your ambition," rasped the presence with a voice that could make a corpse's skin crawl. "Your ambition and the darkness you surround yourself with. Do not be so quick to dismiss me, Kol Daren, else you shall suffer bitterly for your ignorance. I am here... to help you."

Kol gazed unflinchingly into the shadows, peering into the eternal depths of the void eyes, before reaching for a leg barely attached to its deceased owner which dangled over the edge of his bed. With ease Kol launched the cadaver into the shadows, an explosion of blood, insides and appendages following barely a second later. The enshrouded creature merely narrowed its gaze, stepping over the remains of the Zazane's bedfellow to reveal a gaunt, serpentine form, long limbs ending with talons while its scaled flesh wrapped around a skeletal frame. Its eyes sunk deep into its skull, almost distracting Kol from the long robes of flesh streaked with veins and vessels coursing with black essence that dragged at the being's feet.

"Whatever is the matter, dear Kol? I offer you assistance and you seek to rebuke me ever so swiftly. Did I not just inform you that doing so would lead you to suffer?"

"I said that you're not welcome here," Kol said, reinforced with cold spite. "I neither know nor care what you are, but I can taste that you are a nightmare-dweller. No nightmare has ever lent me help and no nightmare ever will. Begone, before you well and truly piss me off." Kol towered over the serpent in stature, both taller and broader than, yet the creature stood still and refused to back away. Although still disoriented and overcome by an agonizing ache set deep within his skull, the Zazane could still bring himself to slaughter the fiend should he feel it necessary.

"I do not believe you understand, Kol Daren. I have told you twice now and I would rather not have to suffer to tell you more than thrice, so allow me to make my purpose here clear to you," the serpent spoke with a growing anger in its tone. Slowly, the fiend raised its arms to its sides, allowing its long sleeves of skin to droop while it opened its talons to reveal palms marked with runes of unknown origin to Kol. It took him a moment to notice, but the reinforced metallic alloy walls of the bed chamber had somehow managed to grow veins as organic as those streaking across the serpent's vestments, metal churning and opening to bleed black blood. The temperature of the room swiftly and suddenly dropped, as if the heat was pulled through into an open and yawning void.

From the shadows, creatures appeared. Small in size compared to the two of them, they hissed and growled as they scurried into Kol Daren's chamber on all fours. They were devoid of eyes and their maws held no jaw, and writhing tentacles covered their backs as long tails dragged behind them. These small nightmares begun wandering about, touching, biting and scratching at Kol's 'furniture' and bed partners without a care for the massive Zazane's presence. Kol rolled his shoulders, his lips curling into a snarl while the serpent calmly strolled towards him.

"I go by many names, Kol Daren, but you shall address me as . The Devourer's Apothecary and one of the tendrils that compose the Eight Vanguards," the serpent's voice rang throughout the room, reaching depths that should not have existed while the demi-nightmares he had manifested also began to skitter and crawl from beneath his garments. "And you shall listen to me, for I have dragged your quarters to the edge between the realm of the material and the realm of nightmares and chaos. A realm where my masters and I hold ultimate power."

With a primal roar, Kol swung an arm towards his bed, exploding one of the lesser nightmares with sheer strength and upturning the bed and its occupiers, sending many of the fiends in it flying across the chamber. Kol's veins bulged and blackened across his torso, power surging through him as he leered towards Mordathai.

"You can neither threaten me or manipulate me, scum! You, a mere slave, stand before a demigod unchained from any master and I do not waste my precious time quarreling with those too weak to be little more than servants!"

From the shadows behind Mordathai, heavy footsteps were heard as another creature of nightmare emerged; it was hunched back, though even then, it rivalled Kol Daren in size, its features displaying dominance over its lesser kin. It growled at the Zazane in annoyance and disgust as it loomed over Mordathai's head. "You... nothing to That Which Devours! Filthy flesh-thing. Mortal! Destined to die!"

"Enough, Mor'nakaur," Mordathai ordered, his talons wrapped around something within his palm. "You are only partially correct, Kol Daren. While I cannot possibly manipulate you or threaten you, as you've so boldly proclaimed," he said while stretching an arm to Kol, "you can afford at least a moment to discuss with a slave of the Nightmare God." The object, some form of diamond-shaped metallic trinket lined with obscure symbols and glyphs, surged with an energy familiar to Kol as he took a brief glance at it resting in Mordathai's hand. The power of Descension, it felt to be. The power of the old gods of his kind, the power he sought so long for himself.

"... Where did you get this?" Kol queried as he reached for the artefact, only for Mordathai to withdraw his arm and grasp it tighter between his claws. The serpentine fiend chuckled, admiring the artefact for a moment while Kol resisted the urge to batter him and his daemonic bodyguard into the ground.

"I suppose you could call me a collector, of sorts. I pride myself on my ability to route out and find any and all forms of occult objects. It was ever an obsession of mine, you see, even before I was enlightened to the truth. I indulge my little hobby while it also serves useful to my brethren and other acolytes of the Devourer," Mordathai answered, casually tossing the black diamond to Kol for him to catch. As it touched Kol's palms, his eyes briefly widened at the vast, unimaginable amounts of potent essence that surged and flowed through it and as he turned it to one of its sides, he noticed it. An eye - in fact, something resembling a Zazane's eye - glanced up at him from the diamond, an organic component merged into the metal artefact.

"I believe you call the old gods of your people , is that right? That according to the myths and legends passed down from the ages before history, what remained of their essence that could not be destroyed following the schism among them was sealed away. Have you ever pondered on how exactly Tyraz Breek, otherwise a weakling, ever managed to achieve such sacred and unrivalled power? It was through an artefact such as this,''" Mordathai said, mockingly scratching the underside of Mor'nakaur's maw as if the daemon was a pet - who reacted by shaking his head and huffing out loud in displeasure - as he lectured Kol.

"... Why?" Kol grasped the object tightly, glaring with a snarl once again towards the nightmarish fiend. "Why would you give me something like this? If you seek my servitude, you shall be sorely disappointed. I serve no one."

"As if I could ever expect one as arrogant and so self-absorbed as you to ever bend the knee to the Nightmare God. You've no idea how to humble yourself and for that you would make an utterly terrible acolyte, Kol Daren. But... no. No, I am not requesting your servitude. Instead, I would ask something else of you. Something far more simple to wrap your swollen head around, as I believe it aligns with both our interests."

"And what exactly would that be?" Kol growled, once again resisting the temptation to feed Mordathai his insults through whatever would constitute as the fiend's sphincter while defensively keeping the ancient artefact held close to his chest.

"I simply ask that you rid us both of a pest. I believe you are aware of the rianth warrior known as, yes? Of course you are. You have been seeing him, haven't you? Seeing him manifest his powers deep within your dreams," Mordathai said, perking his dry, chapped lips into a grin.

At the mention of the name, Mor'nakaur and his lesser kin roared out in rage. "Dream slave! Dream slave! Destined to die! Destined to die!" they chanted in unison. Kol glanced towards Mordathai's nightmares with an irritaded look, before turning his attention back towards their master - or at least, he assumed that Mordathai was powerful enough to be deemed their master.

"You've been watching my dreams. I should have known that my nightmares throughout these past few months would have something to do with you," Kol responded with taking a step forward, his breath seething through his teeth at the idea of a creature as vile and disgusting as Mordathai and whoever else he deemed his cohorts watching his dreams and nightmares. The serpent had a lot of nerve indeed. "So, you want the boy dead too."

"There is vast power stored within that artefact, Kol Daren, yet it remains dormant and slumbering. You need to feed it and cherish it with the blood and essence of your kind to awaken the fragmented mind imprisoned within. Once its hunger has been sated and it has the strength to yearn for release from its prison, whatever broken god that rests inside should bond with you as Tyraz has been bonded with all those years ago..." Mordathai spoke, opening his arms only to pause before the climax of his speech. After a few moments of grasping Kol's attention, he spoke again.

"But only if you kill the boy beforehand. Awaken and bond with the broken god before Hachiman is dead and you shall be destined to fall. Those dreams are not simply thoughts and memories stringed together within your subconscious, dear Kol, but prophetic visions of the future where you fail."

"What? ... What?! What sense does that make?!" Kol rebuked the serpent violently, stepping towards Mordathai and raising a fist as he prepared to strike him down. The idea of having to kill the boy before his empowerment seemed almost nonsensical to him.

Mor'nakaur's clenched fist hit the floor. "Dream slave made slave to destroy you. Fail... and Dream slave kills you! Kill Dream slave!"

"Utter nonsense! This... This is lies and deceit! Why must I kill the boy, a pathetic weakling, before I bond with the old god? Are you saying that I would suffer becoming weaker should I awaken it?"

"No," Mordathai said with calm, raising a hand to calm Mor'nakaur. "As much as I despise to admit it, the boy grows stronger with time. In fact, I would go so far as to say he may be on the very precipice of awakening his true potential. If you waste time and do not kill him before the artefact awakens, then he would have already grown strong enough for your metamorphosis to no longer matter to him."

Kol froze, his lips and eyes twitching furiously with every word Mordathai spoke. Rage and murderous intent brewed within Kol's veins, the temptation to unleash whatever strength he could muster to pummel and tear Mordathai and his daemons apart rising ever so quickly. Yet he lowered his arm to his side and clenched his fist around the artefact while turning his back to the serpent, breathing fury from the very depths of his monstrous core. Mordathai's grin remained firm on his snake-like face as he moved his arms behind his back, stepping away from Kol towards the corner of his chamber once again while the walls gradually began to revert from flesh back to reinforce synth-steel.

"Fail me not, dear Kol," Mordathai chuckled, his form sinking back into the shadows while Kol could feel the void pits of his eyes piercing through him from behind. "Otherwise... well, you would not be the first immortal to have experienced the cold, unfeeling touch of death. Nothing awaits your soul beyond this life should you fall... Nothing but suffering and torment unparalleled."

The lesser nightmares begun slipping back into the darkness once they had loitered, eaten and vandalized enough of Kol's chambers, though Mor'nakaur would be the last to leave. With a swipe of his hand, he knocked several pieces of furniture into the floor - for no reason but to spite him - before he spoke. "We wait you in the void. Devour you and all you create."

With this, he too vanished entirely, disappearing in the darkness.

Kol soon stood alone once more, basking in the mess that was his bed chamber. The last sensations of nightmarish energy dissipated into the void with the monsters that brought it, allowing the Zazane giant his privacy before he glanced over the numerous corpses, either stiff or stuffed, that lay discarded across his floor. The trembling weakness he felt prior to Mordathai's visit had been replaced with what he could only assume was a newfound sense of vigor, the sickness coursing in his gut devoured by a burning passion. Strength returned to Kol, causing him to form a smile.

"At long last," he muttered to himself while sitting himself down, keeping the artefact tight in his closed grip. "My quest shall soon come to an end. I will bond with the entity sleeping within this diamond... and I will be crowned a new god of this galaxy. Of this universe! For too long I've awaited this night, where I finally stand at the edge of victory! Everything I've ever done... it will all finally be rewarded." He reached for something at his side, strewn and abandoned after the lesser nightmares made their mess. An arm, stiff, feminine and dismembered from whatever body it had once been attached to.

"But first," said Kol, admiring the blood-soaked arm and licking it with a large, black tongue. "I believe I am not yet fully at ease with all of this. Yes, I need to relax.. Pull myself together and prepare. I must clear my mind..." He moved the arm towards his waist, lifting his gaze towards the ceiling before closing his eyes. His smile became an excited smirk, before blush crept upon his cheeks.

"I must purge my soul of all this giddy, childish excitement..." he gasped, arching his back. The visions he saw of Hachiman were no longer those of torment, but those that made him delightfully quiver and feel weak at the knees with excitement.

=Notes=