Part five: Endgame
![[Image: 8216673612_a2dc1ab751_z.jpg]](http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8486/8216673612_a2dc1ab751_z.jpg)
A thousand years before the founding of Paragon City this place was known as The Palace of the Stars in the language of its natives. It was a relatively flat plateau with few trees that made it seem like one was surrounded by the stars at night. For hundreds of years it was a place of serenity and meditation, where The People went to seek counsel with the spirits of the Earth.
Four hundred years ago the first war came to the Palace as The People clashed with settlers from another world. This world was an ocean away and the warriors from that world wielded advanced, almost inconceivable technology, but The People united against them and defeated them. It would be their last victory.
Two hundred years ago The People were swept away, first by Others of their kind, and then by invaders from across the sea. The Palace of the Stars became known as Witfield by its new inhabitants, and it held a small trading village. The people who now resided there marveled at the good soil for crops, the relatively mild winters, the gentle landscape. Some even noted that, far and above the larger settlements near the coast, this place seemed to have the deepest, star-filled sky at night.
A hundred years ago Witfield was now know as White Plains, an outlying region of the burgeoning metropolis known as Paragon City. Another war had come and the people of this land united against those across the sea and eventually defeated them. The people of Paragon City were a new people born of the old. The farms and villages were gone, supplanted by roads and buildings. This was a relatively affluent part of Paragon: far enough from the center of the city but still connected to all of its networks and resources. And then came the Crash. The crash was the first strike in a war that would rage for over a decade. It was no mere object that crashed to Earth but rather something far more critical to the city. The capital engine of the economy that fueled its expansion and development vaporized in a few days in 1929, and with that engine crippled Paragon City descended into chaos. Government and social structures lost control and new powers rose to fill the vacuum as criminal gangs fought for control of the streets. Until he came.
A lost child of the New World returned from the Old World across the sea. And once again, the world across the sea brought change to this world, in the form of a hero that would unite the forces of justice and wage a war to bring order to Paragon City. A war that was won just in time for the next war to arrive. Once again, it was the world across the sea that brought war to this world. And once again, it was invaders wielding advanced technology that threatened the people of this land. Once again, the people united against them and eventually, at great cost, defeated them. But there would be no lasting peace this time.
Although a semblance of normalcy eventually returned to Paragon City, the place once known as the Palace of the Stars would never again see peace. It would see the rise of the drug-fueled criminal gangs known as the unicorns and the mysterious armies of the man known as Nemesis. It would see a world war replaced with a Cold War, and the Cold War nearly become an apocalyptic hot war. But it was once again an invasion by another world that would finally seal the fate of White Plains.
Ten years ago the invaders came, not from an ocean away, but a cosmos away. Born on another Earth, in another dimensional reality, the beings known as the Rikti launched a massive invasion of the entire planet. Using dimensional portal technology they came in huge numbers and overwhelmed the planet's militaries almost immediately. Paragon City became one of the centers of the conflict. Once again, at great cost, the people of this world united and defeated the invaders, driving them away, the portal to their homeworld severed. One casualty was White Plains itself. A massive Rikti mothership crashed into the ground, destroying a huge swath of White Plains before finally coming to rest. The crash obliterated over half of White Plains; the need to quarantine the crash site caused the rest to be abandoned. White Plains was now the Rikti Crash Site, a place where the city kept watch upon the damaged but still functioning warship, its impregnable deflector shield preventing all attempts to gain entrance. Observers could only wonder what was happening within.
Five years ago they learned. The Rikti that had been left behind after the war ended hadn't simply given up. They had spent years attempting to repair their ability to connect this world with their world, and they finally succeeded, albeit in a limited fashion. Their technology repaired, the Rikti once again had the means to travel from this world to another world, from this world to another dimension. With this, they could attempt to resume their conquest of Earth. This made the Rikti mothership, and the place once known as the Palace of the Stars, critically important to the Rikti.
It was for the same reason it was critically important to the Dream Doctor and his allies. Because here was the last escape route from the Battalion. And ironically, their task would be to destroy it.
On their world, the Rikti had systematically destroyed magic and the worship of gods, and with that they had also inadvertently extinguished much of their future potential. The Rikti did not have Incarnate potential; they had no Well of the Furies. Because of this, they were beyond the attention of the Battalion: they were insignificant to the Battalion. Even their portal escaped attention, as the Rikti homeworld was not considered worthy of attention by the Battalion and no Incarnate potential flowed through it. It was currently invisible to the Battalion. But they would not be using it to escape the Battalion, they would be severing this last anchor to the multiverse. Until it was destroyed, their plan could not succeed.
Ten years ago - many, many more years ago from the perspective of Mender Silos - a man had opened a portal to the Rikti homeworld and through his clumsy machinations had triggered a war between mankind and the Rikti. From that moment the fate of humans and Rikti were intertwined in an ever tightening tangle of strife, politics, hubris, bloodshed, and revenge. And the man responsible would now sever that connection, once and for all time. Mender Silos pursed his lips. "All clocks return to the beginning" he thought to himself.
"How did your meeting with Emperor Cole fare, Mender?"
The Dream Doctor's question shook Silos out of his reverie. "As I expected, Doctor. And you, Prometheus? How was your audience with 'god?'"
"Your Humor Is Unnecessary Mender." Prometheus once again addressed Mender Silos with the forceful voice he had recently adopted in speaking to humans. "All Is As Planned."
"Did you tell him exactly what I said to tell him?"
"I Said What Was Necessary." Prometheus paused. "Faathim Reacted As You Expected. Perhaps A Million Years Is Just Enough Time For Humans To Gain Wisdom" he added.
"Before my death I managed to give Prometheus the Fire Bearer a sense of humor. I should get some sort of recognition for that, a badge I could pin right here perhaps."
The Dream Doctor ignored their banter, although he sensed a shift in respect between them that he couldn't place. "All are ready then. I will go to Cole and prepare him."
"Bring Him To Me And I Will Grant What He Requires."
"All we need now is an army" Mender Silos added "and that's your department Prometheus."
"I Will Call Upon All Who Would Face The Coming Storm. I Will Embue Them With Their Full Incarnate Potential. They Will Have To Do The Rest."
"They always do, Prometheus" Mender Silos and Lord Nemesis said as one. "They *always* do."
...
Note: title notwithstanding, this is not the last part of the story
Arcanaville also writes in a later post:
There are two, or really three parts remaining to this story. The next part is going to be delayed until Tuesday due to an insufficient lack of sucktitude in some of the writing. There is an epilogue to the story that I will post on Thursday or Friday, and it will also be posted here on Titan since that gives people very little time to read it otherwise. The part in between the two covers the events that actually occur on Wednesday during the event assuming we pull it off without obliterating the beta server, and since that's still being played a bit by ear, that part will also likely need to be tweaked before posting.
A thousand years before the founding of Paragon City this place was known as The Palace of the Stars in the language of its natives. It was a relatively flat plateau with few trees that made it seem like one was surrounded by the stars at night. For hundreds of years it was a place of serenity and meditation, where The People went to seek counsel with the spirits of the Earth.
Four hundred years ago the first war came to the Palace as The People clashed with settlers from another world. This world was an ocean away and the warriors from that world wielded advanced, almost inconceivable technology, but The People united against them and defeated them. It would be their last victory.
Two hundred years ago The People were swept away, first by Others of their kind, and then by invaders from across the sea. The Palace of the Stars became known as Witfield by its new inhabitants, and it held a small trading village. The people who now resided there marveled at the good soil for crops, the relatively mild winters, the gentle landscape. Some even noted that, far and above the larger settlements near the coast, this place seemed to have the deepest, star-filled sky at night.
A hundred years ago Witfield was now know as White Plains, an outlying region of the burgeoning metropolis known as Paragon City. Another war had come and the people of this land united against those across the sea and eventually defeated them. The people of Paragon City were a new people born of the old. The farms and villages were gone, supplanted by roads and buildings. This was a relatively affluent part of Paragon: far enough from the center of the city but still connected to all of its networks and resources. And then came the Crash. The crash was the first strike in a war that would rage for over a decade. It was no mere object that crashed to Earth but rather something far more critical to the city. The capital engine of the economy that fueled its expansion and development vaporized in a few days in 1929, and with that engine crippled Paragon City descended into chaos. Government and social structures lost control and new powers rose to fill the vacuum as criminal gangs fought for control of the streets. Until he came.
A lost child of the New World returned from the Old World across the sea. And once again, the world across the sea brought change to this world, in the form of a hero that would unite the forces of justice and wage a war to bring order to Paragon City. A war that was won just in time for the next war to arrive. Once again, it was the world across the sea that brought war to this world. And once again, it was invaders wielding advanced technology that threatened the people of this land. Once again, the people united against them and eventually, at great cost, defeated them. But there would be no lasting peace this time.
Although a semblance of normalcy eventually returned to Paragon City, the place once known as the Palace of the Stars would never again see peace. It would see the rise of the drug-fueled criminal gangs known as the unicorns and the mysterious armies of the man known as Nemesis. It would see a world war replaced with a Cold War, and the Cold War nearly become an apocalyptic hot war. But it was once again an invasion by another world that would finally seal the fate of White Plains.
Ten years ago the invaders came, not from an ocean away, but a cosmos away. Born on another Earth, in another dimensional reality, the beings known as the Rikti launched a massive invasion of the entire planet. Using dimensional portal technology they came in huge numbers and overwhelmed the planet's militaries almost immediately. Paragon City became one of the centers of the conflict. Once again, at great cost, the people of this world united and defeated the invaders, driving them away, the portal to their homeworld severed. One casualty was White Plains itself. A massive Rikti mothership crashed into the ground, destroying a huge swath of White Plains before finally coming to rest. The crash obliterated over half of White Plains; the need to quarantine the crash site caused the rest to be abandoned. White Plains was now the Rikti Crash Site, a place where the city kept watch upon the damaged but still functioning warship, its impregnable deflector shield preventing all attempts to gain entrance. Observers could only wonder what was happening within.
Five years ago they learned. The Rikti that had been left behind after the war ended hadn't simply given up. They had spent years attempting to repair their ability to connect this world with their world, and they finally succeeded, albeit in a limited fashion. Their technology repaired, the Rikti once again had the means to travel from this world to another world, from this world to another dimension. With this, they could attempt to resume their conquest of Earth. This made the Rikti mothership, and the place once known as the Palace of the Stars, critically important to the Rikti.
It was for the same reason it was critically important to the Dream Doctor and his allies. Because here was the last escape route from the Battalion. And ironically, their task would be to destroy it.
On their world, the Rikti had systematically destroyed magic and the worship of gods, and with that they had also inadvertently extinguished much of their future potential. The Rikti did not have Incarnate potential; they had no Well of the Furies. Because of this, they were beyond the attention of the Battalion: they were insignificant to the Battalion. Even their portal escaped attention, as the Rikti homeworld was not considered worthy of attention by the Battalion and no Incarnate potential flowed through it. It was currently invisible to the Battalion. But they would not be using it to escape the Battalion, they would be severing this last anchor to the multiverse. Until it was destroyed, their plan could not succeed.
Ten years ago - many, many more years ago from the perspective of Mender Silos - a man had opened a portal to the Rikti homeworld and through his clumsy machinations had triggered a war between mankind and the Rikti. From that moment the fate of humans and Rikti were intertwined in an ever tightening tangle of strife, politics, hubris, bloodshed, and revenge. And the man responsible would now sever that connection, once and for all time. Mender Silos pursed his lips. "All clocks return to the beginning" he thought to himself.
"How did your meeting with Emperor Cole fare, Mender?"
The Dream Doctor's question shook Silos out of his reverie. "As I expected, Doctor. And you, Prometheus? How was your audience with 'god?'"
"Your Humor Is Unnecessary Mender." Prometheus once again addressed Mender Silos with the forceful voice he had recently adopted in speaking to humans. "All Is As Planned."
"Did you tell him exactly what I said to tell him?"
"I Said What Was Necessary." Prometheus paused. "Faathim Reacted As You Expected. Perhaps A Million Years Is Just Enough Time For Humans To Gain Wisdom" he added.
"Before my death I managed to give Prometheus the Fire Bearer a sense of humor. I should get some sort of recognition for that, a badge I could pin right here perhaps."
The Dream Doctor ignored their banter, although he sensed a shift in respect between them that he couldn't place. "All are ready then. I will go to Cole and prepare him."
"Bring Him To Me And I Will Grant What He Requires."
"All we need now is an army" Mender Silos added "and that's your department Prometheus."
"I Will Call Upon All Who Would Face The Coming Storm. I Will Embue Them With Their Full Incarnate Potential. They Will Have To Do The Rest."
"They always do, Prometheus" Mender Silos and Lord Nemesis said as one. "They *always* do."
...
Note: title notwithstanding, this is not the last part of the story
Arcanaville also writes in a later post:
There are two, or really three parts remaining to this story. The next part is going to be delayed until Tuesday due to an insufficient lack of sucktitude in some of the writing. There is an epilogue to the story that I will post on Thursday or Friday, and it will also be posted here on Titan since that gives people very little time to read it otherwise. The part in between the two covers the events that actually occur on Wednesday during the event assuming we pull it off without obliterating the beta server, and since that's still being played a bit by ear, that part will also likely need to be tweaked before posting.