Multiverse 1
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But over the weeks and months after his return from the latest campaign, his daughter became increasingly withdrawn and troubled. He tried to shower her with more attention, sure that his absence was the cause. The sorceress, Netjeret, became jealous of this. The following year she decided to finish what she started and cull the child as well.
Mahu sensed a threat to his child and hid her. At first, he thought there was an assassination afoot. He was certain that Inaros was trying to get to the girl in order to use her as a hostage against him.
“Why cannot we find this snake in our midst?” he raged to Khabekhnet, the royal artisan. The artisan shrugged. “There are many holes in the computer database; he may have help from the inside,” he said.
“Holes?” Mahu demanded, frowning thoughtfully as he stroked his bearded chin. “I know of only one, but I had forgotten,” he rumbled uncertainly. To question the all-knowing computer was a minor transgression against their goddess.
“There are many strange holes and strange things in the computer files,” a technomage said. He hunched his shoulders when the Reaper's stern gaze turned his way.
“Don't punish him for telling the truth,” Khabekhnet said, raising a hand to attract Mahu's attention, “for he is correct. We have learned to work around such things. Most are in the personnel records anyway.”
Mahu nodded. He left, now more confused than ever. He checked the computer and found that the artisan was right; the holes were there, going back millennia. He wondered if there was a problem with the computer net. It was strange. But if Khabekhnet didn't know…
(0)^(0)
When the Netjeret required Ipy's presence for an interview to become a handmaiden, Mahu's daughter became instantly terrified. “No!” she said, shaking like a leaf, shaking her head and clenching her small fists.
“It is a great honor, little one, and you cannot refuse,” Mahu said, trying to calm her.
“She'll…she's evil!” Ipy said, tears falling.
Her father recoiled. “Why would you say that?” he demanded. “She is your goddess! Show some respect!” he growled.
She looked up at him, face troubled. Her eye makeup had dribbled in the tear lines, but she left it alone. “She…she killed my mother,” Ipy said.
“She did what?” Mahu demanded, aghast. “How do you know this?” he demanded. “When? Who told you this…this vial lie?” he snarled, quaking in rage.
“I saw it for myself,” she said.
He blinked at her in confusion, then stared. “Explain,” he ordered in a command voice. She paled but complied. Hesitantly, she told him about her mother Ipwet. She had seen it and recorded it all. Ipy had hid the recording, a journal her mother had started her on. Also, the journal of her mother Ipwet before she had been summoned for “refreshing.” She had found the journal afterward, and her memory had been restored.
Mahu was shocked and didn't believe her. “You cannot…such things…it is madness!” he said, shaking his head in rejection.
“But it is true, Father,” she said. She bit her lip and then pulled up a file. She showed him a recording, one of her first-time walking. A woman was there as well, Ipwet. Her chubby walk ended with her mother sweeping her up in her arms.
Mahu reached out, then saw another presence, this one his own, but slightly younger. His mind swirled in chaos and confusion.
“I don't remember it either, but Ipu said that was normal for one so young. But she didn't remember mother either which bothered me,” Ipy said softly. Mahu's eyes were locked on Ipwet and his image sharing a loving kiss together.
“I found this later, much later,” she said. “But I wasn't sure what to do,” his daughter said, eyes welling with tears. She dashed a hand across her eyes, wiping them away. “I…it is bad, what happens next,” she said.
“Show me,” he growled. She bit her lip and then nodded. He watched it all and was enraged at what had been stolen from him. His own memories of his lost love came flooding back to him.
“The last,” the girl whispered softly. “I was apparently recording it. I guess I had snuck a small camera bug in with me,” she murmured.
He blinked and then turned to her. She shrugged. “Ipu always accused me of having technomage blood,” she said. He nodded.
“Father…”
“Show me,” he said. He watched as Ipwet was summoned to the palace ship. His daughter had followed but had remained behind outside the audience chamber. She'd snuck a bug in though, and it had recorded her mother's demise. It was terrifying long; his goddess, Netjeret, was terribly cruel about it, explaining in a gloating snarl about how she would be erased. Watching her wither into dust screaming…he closed his eyes in pain. Now he understood the blanks in their memory and computer files, he realized with a heart sick pang.
“You…did you see this? I am surprised you are still alive,” he said, looking at his daughter.
She shook her head. “Not then. But I was told to go home by Khawy, so I did. He said mother would be along shortly. I believed him.”
“And then what?”
“I…apparently I copied mother's journal and my own to a secure offline server,” she explained. He frowned, such things were forbidden. “I know, mother said not to, but I wanted to access it when the net was busy so…” she shrugged helplessly. “Do you hate me?” she asked, softly concerned.
“No,” he said, taking her in his arms. “No, not you my child,” he murmured as they hugged one another. “That…that I'll save for another,” he said, eyes cutting to the image of the newly-restored goddess.
(0)^(0)
He showed the recording to Ipu. She was horrified at what had happened to her sister, a sister she hadn't known existed. Her own memories flooded back in blinding pain. When she recovered she took Ipy into the citadel to hide.
An hour later he was contacted by a stranger, Inaros, the rebel. They had an uneasy meeting in a back alley in cloaks. He had worried about being assassinated, so wore his armor under his cloak. But instead Inaros listened to him. He showed them the recording. The rain around them sizzled through the holo, but they got the idea. Many hissed at it.
“This is the spark we need to overthrow her,” Inaros said, eyes flashing in rage. “I knew…” he shook his head. “My mother…how many over the generation?” he asked softly.
“Too many,” Mahu replied with a growl. “It ends now,” he vowed.
Inaros nodded. “So, it is agreed?” The rebel demanded.
“Yes. Justice must be done,” Mahu said.
“There is a reason you are known as the Reaper,” Inaros said. “Do not believe for a moment that I or the others trust you,” he warned.
Mahu smiled slightly. “Nor I you. But together we have a common enemy.” They banded together to fight.
Mahu recruited Khawy and a few of his relatives. Then as they watched the horrified recordings he did a quick research of his past.
“You are delving into realms you don't understand general,” Khabekhnet warned, interrupting his search with a holo call. “If I can see what you are doing, others can too,” he said.
“Can you shield my search?” Mahu asked.
“For a time. What is your purpose?” the lead artisan asked.
“Have you seen the recordings?” Mahu asked.
“It depends on which you mean,” Khabekhnet said cautiously. “I have seen many over the years,” he said.
“What about this one?” The general asked grimly, sending the artisan the recording of his wife's demise. He watched horror fill the artisan's face, then sorrow. “I will see what I can do,” he said, sounding troubled. Mahu nodded as the connection terminated. After a moment his connection changed. He was at first afraid that the artisan had betrayed him. But instead he was given unrestricted access by the technomage. He found his entire history, including that of his wife. He also looked into the past and saw his goddess for what she truly was and what his role had been.
He saw the worlds they had visited were clea
nsed of life. The sorceress had stripped them until they were barren rock, sucking the life out of all of it to fuel her eternal youth.
He went to the royal armory and prepared for war. His black and silver armor had been damaged in his last campaign and not yet repaired. So instead he took on the golden armor of his father, fulfilling part of the prophesy. He smiled at that idea. “A good omen,” he said, nodding to the others. Grimly, they nodded back.
“Are we really doing this?” Khawy asked, sounding more excited than frightened. Mahu nodded.
(O)^(O)
They marched through the corridors as if nothing was amiss. But when the computer requested authorization a rebel destroyed the thing.
They were discovered, and servants scattered, fleeing in terror or hiding. Mahu let them go; he had no stomach anymore for killing the ignorant or the innocent. Guards hastened to block their path. When they saw the golden armor and heard who was in it, they paused, confused. Some seemed ready to join them; others held them back or turned on them.
Inaros was in the market, rousing the people to battle with his speeches and the recordings. Fear and fury were mingled in the population. “Too long we have been sacrificed to keep her young and beautiful! To fuel her twisted soul! No longer! We must fight! Fight to protect not just ourselves, but our children and our children's children!” Inaros said, pumping a fist. “The reaper is with us!” he howled. “Are you?” he demanded. “Or are you going to stand in his way and be cut down?”
As they marched on the summer palace, guards either charged in to fight them or joined their cause. Chaos reigned in the streets.
The computer's programming tripped when the riot turned into an ugly route. Some set fire to buildings in the fighting, setting off programs to fight the fires.
Eventually, word from a loyal and ignorant servant got to the sorceress. At first, the sorceress was confused and felt betrayal. “Traitors! Slay them all! Bring me their heads and their genitals so I may mount them around the gates as warning to others!” She ranted for some time, terrifying her handmaids. She sent out her Death Riders, but they were cut down by Khawy and the Reaper who had anticipated their involvement and had set an ambush.
Enraged she struck out, slamming the battlers with energy weapons from her ship. But only one could fire, and it was quickly disabled by the artisans. Her lashing energy weapons had killed friend and foe alike until they had taken cover. Khawy had been killed, Inaros injured, but others stepped up to take their places. Her lashing had made some of her own followers change sides in rage.
Still the rebels fought a hard battle against loyalist forces, but since Mahu had been not only the army general but also the chief of security, he managed to direct a strike force into the summer palace through the secret passages.
Netjeret became fearful when she saw video of the early stages of the battle and saw the armor in Harkhebi's ancient prophecy. All at once it came back to her along with realization about who was wearing it. Terrified she donned her own golden armor and prepared to retreat to her ship.
Mahu, however, knew many of the secrets of the ship, and Khabekhnet knew the rest. The lead artisan guided the general through the passages to intercept her.
The Reaper confronted the sorceress in her lair. “You don't know what you're doing!” she said, dropping her weapon. “I don't understand why you would do this!” she said. “Don't you still love me?” she asked, voice husky. “We can share this, all of this,” she said, “You can be my king, that's all I ever wanted,” she said.
She tried to seduce him, and weaved a spell on him, confusing him. Pheromones flooded the air, clouding his mind with torn lust.
“No he doesn't!” A familiar small voice snarled, coming in behind her father. The sorceress turned with a glare at Iby. “You!” she snarled, hands turning into claws, ready to rip and tear at the interlopers intervention. Eyes flashing, the sorceress raised her claws to rend the child. She started to make her way past the enthralled general.
Seeing the threat to his daughter broke Mahu out of his stupor in time to run his blade through Netjeret's heart. She fell stricken to the ground, one hand over the wound. Handmaids and other servants arrived to see the taboo, to see their fallen goddess bleed just as they did. Species of all types looked down at her in horror and confusion. For some they were lost, bereft in a sea of uncertainty. Others were already thinking of how they could best fill the vacuum of power she would create.
She tried to suck the life out of those around her to stay alive, but they danced out of reach of the device on her arm. “Back!” the general ordered, one hand pushing his daughter safely behind him. The sorceress managed to get a black cat, Isis. The cat was turned into a withered husk then dust before their eyes. Her wound healed. She coughed, pulling herself up the dais backwards.
Horrified, the group realized what had happened to all those people. They had thought they had been turned into energy and gone to heaven. Now they knew the truth.
Iby grabbed a spear from a guard and stabbed out, this time striking the crystal on the woman's arm shattering it. Netjeret screamed in rage, turning on the child, but Mahu and the others pushed the girl aside as they moved in.
They pinned the sorceress's arms and legs spread eagle with spears to keep her from moving then watched her scream and writhe as she aged and then burst into flames. Mahu stepped back, instinctively protecting his face and his shielding his daughter from the intense energy. Nothing was left but a crumbling skeleton.
“Tell the others,” Mahu said, turning to a servant. The boy nodded his head and then rushed from the chamber. After a moment his young voice filled the overhead speakers. “Netjeret is dead! The sorceress is no more!” he said. Iby smiled, curling her hand into her father's. He looked down at her and then squeezed ever so gently. After a moment he picked her up, holding her on one hip as the servants murmured about what they would do.
Mahu turned. He didn't like the sound of the viceroys; they were already jockeying for power. “What shall we do?” one Anubis asked, snuffling. “We are lost without her,” he said. The others quieted.
“Father, someone must lead,” Iby said, looking at him. Mahu looked at her for a long moment. Something was exchanged in that gaze. After a moment he nodded. He turned as Khabekhnet put up the video of Netjeret's final moments on the holo network for all to see. The image was projected in the air above the palace, causing an immediate stop to the fighting. Many cheered.
“Who? Who will lead us in this dark time?” the Anubis demanded.
“I'll tell you who,” Iby said as her father set her down. She pulled a spear from the body of the fallen Netjeret and then brandished it. She turned just as her father mounted the dais and stood before the throne. “Mahu will,” she said, pointing the spear to her father. “As pharaoh,” she said. “No more will we have an immortal preying on us to stay young. The position will pass from one generation to another, renewed with each passing. Long live Mahu!” she said, thrusting the spear in the air. Ibu entered at that time and stared at the taboo. The soldiers, however, cheered, then echoed the girl's chant.
One by one the servants and viceroys murmured, looking first at Mahu, than to each other. Grimly the Reaper waited patiently, watching with cold eyes as they came to the logical conclusion.
After a moment the Anubis howled, then knelt. Like a wave the others did as well, crossing their arms over their chest in fealty and bowing their heads to him. Even his daughter did so.
He nodded, removing his helmet as he sat down on the throne.
The End
MetalWar 2305
About MetalWar2305, also known as MW or MW2305:
For the record, I'm using the screen names people used during that time period. Everyone has moved on to other names or their own names now. This will protect their identity though.
Around the year 2001 or so, I was first getting into 3D modeling. A pair of legends in the freelance/hobby fields took me under their wings and showed me the ba
sics of 3D modeling. (I admit, even now I'm still learning.)
My brother-in-law introduced me to the RTS (Real Time Strategy) game Warcraft. It was around 2002, but I wasn't too much into it. But then I stumbled into Starcraft, and I was over the moon. After I beat the game a few dozen times on single player, I went in search of a sequel. I found a Mod, Project Revolution. The team was trying to model and animate the Starcraft universe and place them into the Warcraft 3 engine.
In 2003 (or was it 2004?) I caught the attention of the team when I started posting images of my models I had made. I tried to get onto the team but failed (wince). But I did put what I learned to good use as fodder for my CG freelance portfolio.
I licked my wounds, and I bummed around the forums for a while before a couple other people there got me to attend a virtual chat. We hit on the idea of creating our own WC3 RTS mod but with “original” content. We hit it off, and at the time I thought I was working with a bunch of teens and twenty-year-old people. Mature or at least mature enough to handle such a project.
We named it Metalwar because we had originally considered modding the Metal Marines game into the WC3 engine. I dived right into the project, modeling several of the vehicles and the mecha in the first week. When we found out others had done similar projects (and most had failed), we decided to go our own route. The year 2305 was selected since we intended to finish it in 2005 (ambitious!) and launch it 300 years ahead of schedule.
I dived into the project head first, coming up with ideas and scrambling to get them all down before I forgot them. We wanted two races, for simplicity, then the others set on the idea of four for balance. And to be really different I hit on the idea of splitting the Terrans into two factions to simplify things. My job was initially the Terrans, with Afz the Mexican team leader on the Demon Mecha (influenced by the Berserker series), and Soulphalanx the “Art director” taking on the dragon like Zerinoth. When the other members of the team fell behind (right out the gate), I picked up their slack and filled in the blanks. I really had fun with it— designing the creatures, the tech, history, and the logic of it all.