Meh'Ter

In the year 5375 after Hector's fall (A.H.F.), driven mad by human greed and warmongering, Zeus rained lightning and unleashed the unholy might of Hades. Athena and her alliance took up arms against the Allfather. Outraged by his favorite daughter, he lay waste to Mount Olympus, forever destroying the order he had conceived.

So arose the Great Wars amongst Gods, their children, and humans. Earth was decimated and cataclysms razed the ground. On the brink of annihilation, most fled the planet. Others vanished.

Conquest ensued and war echoed in the Far Reach. Over the next four thousand years, the Armada, led by an enraged Zeus, marshaled its forces off-earth and expanded its colonies to the Andromédē system. And rumors of an unearthed war relic slithered their way through the army ranks...

They had heralded the Aftokratorian Age. The unwearying Gods ruled, seldom challenged. Their power was concentrated in Protogenos, capital city of the empire. The Tower of Cratus sees all.

Year: 9429 after Hector's fall (A.H.F.)
Location: Protogenos
Quadrant: Outskirts of M31, 77Andromédē system

On the eve of the new year's festivities, council was to be held atop the Tower of Cratus. The city's central lighting system diffused the warm day light to a soft amber glow. It was nearing 00:00 on the last day of Spring. Human life buzzed, scurrying about. All eagerly anticipated turn of day and the year's fresh kthenium harvests.

Kalladonis, a general of the Hoplite Phalanx, boarded a ship from the capital's imperial starport. His captain, Dammakos, followed closely behind and to his left. Upon entering the ship's port side, two Armada pilots manned the helm. His captain sat at his side as a faint rumbling emanated from the ship's helio-engines.

"Our travel time to the Tower of Cratus will be brief, my liege," said one of the pilots. The general acquiesced and lay his head against the seat's rest.

He counted ten universal minutes and thirty three seconds from take-off to landing. As he descended from the military shuttle, he motioned his captain to depart with the ship. The port side door was sealed behind the general with a metallic cling.

He halted, albeit for a brief moment. The general peered down at his dory's hand. His neuro-kinetic prosthesis gleamed through his gauntlet's phalanges. Kalladonis distinctly recalled the battle of Messier.

These sacrifices are mine and mine alone, he whispered to himself.

He looked up at the tower's dome. Water trickled down from the city's depositories and coated his retinae. This was his favorite part of the festivities: the noise of water crackling down from above, the smell of wet earth. Petrichor. Memories none of his own flooded his mind.

Kalladonis regained his composure and gazed at the tower's floor-level entrance. It boasted a series of pillars on either side of the gate. Made of pure Parian marble, a slight transparency complimented its white hue. The general noticed the imperial light blue plasma field safeguarding the gates.

Two of the Armada's hoplite guards stood as sentinels in front of them. Cuirass Alloy Tech had become standard issuance for the phalanxes. Their dories were three meters in length for a seven-centimeter diameter. Its body was forged of unblemished Anaxos steel with a matte grey finish. Its flat, incisive spearhead was counterbalanced by a sauroter at the bottom.

As Kalladonis approached, the hoplites acknowledged the general's arrival.
"They're expecting you, General. Please, be welcomed to the Tower of Cratus," said one of the guards.

Upon scanning his credentials, they disabled the shields. A loud thump emanated from the gates as they opened. He ushered his way through to the elevator and felt the light spring of his weight on the cables. Facing the control panel, he pressed the Penthouse Council Room button.

Kalladonis felt awkward, almost claustrophobic in the elevator space. The faint hum of the cables pulling the cubic tin box animated his way up the penthouse room. At last, the elevator gates opened with a hiss.

Two hundred floors in sixty universal seconds and I can barely feel the elevator moving. What marvels we have conjured, he said in a low mutter.

The council room was dimly lit by gas torches and city light. He could discern two figures rather plainly in the dark. One remained veiled by the shadows of the room where light's reach ended. A fresco of Earth’s last wars embellished the marble floors. Vivid scenes of heroic deeds and massacre meshed together. Kalladonis was seized by nostalgia at the sight of the warrior goddess and her spear.

By the gods, all will be right. The time is nigh, he said to himself.

Kalladonis passed Thanatos as he walked towards the glass windows of the tower’s dome. Succumbing to the water's reverberations, the general observed it falling down from the city’s sky-held reservoirs. His cloak espoused the form of his linothrax; his angular visage protruded from his hood.

War propaganda echoed throughout as he scrutinized the capital. His gaze fell upon the city’s main holographic bulletin board. A young solider called out, “Join us in The Forever War! Join our ranks, and we will conquer all. Claim the spear that is rightfully yours!”

But mere pawns in a game whose rules they ignore, he affirmed, stroking his thick beard.

Thanatos quietly bellowed in anger, pacing in the council room. He asked acerbically, “Your sire has the gall to send you in his stead to talk about such delicate matters?”

A strange anxiety gripped him. It slithered through his mind's center places and back alleys, sending shivers the length of his spine. There stood Nyx, tall and gracious, as he turned around. She was regal of stature, eyes gleaming. He'd heard of the fear she instilled in the hearts of men, even that of Zeus himself.

Kalladonis recalled his training. "Nothing is more important than the world. A warrior is bound only to his will. In the face of the unknown, rejoice! for death beckons us all."
He collected his whit and said, "Thy realm is the night. And may it be our strength in the face of our enemies. I salute thee, daughter of Chaos."

Apologetically, Nyx answered, "Forgive my son's impudence. He has yet to learn courtesy and etiquette. What news do you bring, esteemed General?"

Kalladonis replied, “The Polemarch wishes to convey his regret and deepest sympathies for his absence. Rest assured, kthenium production is on schedule. The harvesters will soon bring in the next shipment. And once our cisterns are replenished, we will move on with the annexation.”

Erebus peered out at him and queried, “Have his hunters found it?”

Kalladonis keenly eyed him. He overrode his disapproval of the inquiry and quickly countered, "Ah, yes. Of course, such a relic as the spear. Cadmus and his men are following a lead given by The Smugglers Guild."

Thanatos ruefully retorted, “They should not tire in their efforts! This cloning has made our subjects defective. The improvement costs are unjustified. And our ranks weaken as the sequence gets diluted with each new gen...”

Nyx interjected, “Crucially, Arch Herald Manathraxos of the Genesis Sanctum has submitted his quarterly statement. His genomicians are running out of material. Do not lose sight of our objective. Your Polemarch's revenge is the only motive currently binding us.”

Frustrated, Thanatos implored, "But... mother! You cannot honestly..."

Erebus, cradled by the darkness, stepped forward and laid a hand on Thanatos' shoulder. He intervened, "One day, your impatience will cost us more than you know. Hush yourself, boy, and do as your mother says."

Kalladonis sighed. This needless prattling bores me. If only they knew. He riposted, "Our plan proceeds accordingly, my lords. Sufficient kthenium will be provided to enhance our phalanxes for the invasions. Our Depletion Protocol is on schedule.”

With a wry smile, Erebus said, “Very well. Then let us delay no longer. The Opera House awaits our arrival shortly. The Sirens have prepared theater for the festivities.”