Aetheral Space

The world was burning.

This had not been the plan.

The sky was falling.

The plan had been simple. Dragan Hadrien would become Supreme and tear the Supremacy apart. He would start a war with the UAP that he had no chance of winning, lose the symbol of the Supremacy's might in the first battle, and have his own nation collapse into infighting at the same time.

A perfect storm of unforced errors.

The air was bleeding.

Not this. This wasn't the plan. The very symbol that the UAP had been intended to capture -- leaving Dragan no choice but to retreat in shame -- was now raining fire over Serendipity. Automatics like massive insects were tearing the planet's defenses apart. This wasn't the plan. This wasn't the plan. This wasn't the plan.

Why was this happening? Had North betrayed him? No. There were answers, other answers, but he couldn't think of them. His mind was a whirlwind. How could he have been so stupid? He should have disabled the Sheshanaga before bringing it. But then they would have figured out something was up. The magician disappears when the trick is revealed. But the fire. He shouldn't have brought the Sheshanaga in the first place. But he had to. It was the symbol of the Supremacy's supremacy, constructed by Imperator One and completed by Gael the Golden. One of the most reviled and one of the most beloved. To have it fall was paramount. It would secure his own incompetence in the eyes of those who believed it. Those who had sworn loyalty to him would double down and clash against the nonbelievers. The Supremacy would tear itself apart, and the UAP would finish the job. That had been the plan. The Prince would secure success. Success should have been confirmed the instant he welcomed it into his head. But the smoke. Did he think there wouldn't have been smoke, or fire, or blood? There had already been plenty. It wasn't as if he could have stopped and made all that already shed meaningless. It was meaningless now. No, the plan could still work. This was still the plan. Materially, nothing had changed. But the blood. Oh, God. Oh, God. He had to -- he had to -- he had to --

Make this stick for me.

Make this stick for me.

You have to make this stick for me.

Dragan Hadrien screamed.

AETHERAL SPACE

ARC 16

ACT III

"Evening Stars"

The scream was swallowed by the howl of battle -- and before Dragan could even finish, he felt the gauntlet of Nebula One seize his collar. The face of Fei Long, expression twisted in fury, filled Dragan's vision. Danger, danger. He knew that -- but he couldn't move.

"BASTARD!" the strongest man of the UAP screamed -- blasting forward with his Chassis' thrusters and dragging Dragan's face against the side of a collapsing building.

Stone and dust sprayed downwards. Dragan's limbs flapped in the wind. He did not resist.

With the emerald arm of a god, Fei Long hurled Dragan down into the rubble. He landed in an undignified heap. He did not resist.

Tearing his gaze away from his opponent, Fei Long blasted off towards the Sheshanaga, the engine of destruction that was ravaging Serendipity. Dragan just lay there. He did not pursue.

He was still laying there -- still and silent, eyes staring into the dirt -- when he heard the soft thump of someone landing next to him.

"Man," Victory chuckled, sitting down next to Dragan's bedraggled form. "You really fucked this place up, huh? Nice work, nice work."

Dragan Hadrien said nothing. He just opened his mouth, and a low groan like a death rattle trickled out of him.

Victory reached over and tousled Dragan's hair, the Cogitant's head flopping this way and that.

"You had a plan, right?" the demon sneered. "Yeah, you're the kinda guy that goes for schemes and shit. Well, looks like everything went according to plan, right? What's wrong? So happy you can't say anything? I get that. I'm pretty happy myself. That look on your face is really something to appreciate."

Dragan Hadrien said nothing. He just lay there, eyes glazed over, blind to the death and destruction around him. Victory laughed and patted him on the shoulder as he stood back up.

"I was thinking you were Edgar, you know," he chuckled. "Or at least Edgar 2.0 or something. But no, no way. You've got way too many feelings to be Edgar. Lucky you."

The Old Demon of the Dawn kicked off the ground, floating in place as he rested his chin on his spear.

"Well, I'm gonna head out. You have a good one -- enjoy your breakdown or whatever. I'm sure there's plenty of guns lying around if you want to shoot yourself. Best of luck, pal o' mine."

Dragan Hadrien's eyes hardened into awareness, just a little. He raised a limp hand in Victory's direction.

"You think…" he murmured in a monotone. "...I'll just… let you go…?"

Victory's smirk opened into a grin, and he nodded to the space behind Dragan.

"I'm not the one you need to be worried about."

A cold hand landed on Dragan Hadrien's shoulder from behind…

NEBULA SIX

Beckett del Brainen

Underframe

Nebula of Brainen

…and spears of bone burst out of his body like he was a pincushion. Victory cackled wildly as he flew away, not even glancing back as Dragan collapsed into a bleeding pile. When he tried to open his mouth again, all he could manage now was a choked gasp and a spurt of blood.

What remained of Nebula Six crept forward, out of the gloom. The Awakening looked different than before -- more humanoid now, a human skeleton, but with a long and prehensile neck that ended in a vicious set of fleshless jaws. It floated eerily in place as if hanging from an invisible noose, hissing as it watched Dragan writhe.

With one touch, it had activated Underframe on Dragan's skeleton, turning his own bones into weapons to attack from the inside. If he hadn't pushed his most vital organs into Gemini World, death surely would have been instant. Even so, the pain was excruciating.

Dull shock rumbled inside his skull. What was happening? Everything felt blurry, indistinct, like he was drunk. He was certain he'd destroyed Beckett del Brainen's Aether Awakening with Gemini Coilgun earlier. Why, then, was it still alive?

Sourceless knowledge answered him.

It wasn't that the Aether Awakening was still alive after being hit by Gemini Coilgun. It was correct that Beckett del Brainen's Aether Awakening had been destroyed by that attack. It was just that, after being destroyed, Beckett del Brainen's Aether had Awakened once more. What tormented Dragan Hadrien now was the second instance of Nebula Six's shade.

Beckett del Brainen's Aether core was spite. It was no surprise that he'd keep coming.

Gemini World…

His thoughts flat and weightless, Dragan vanished entirely into his Aether -- and reappeared a moment later, floating above the Awakening, pointing one spiked arm downwards. Dragan's skeleton was slowly returning to its original shape after Underframe's initial activation, but the excruciating grind of bone barely seemed to register right now. Nothing seemed to register right now. Just the empty sensation that he had failed, absolutely…

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…since a long time ago.

Gemini Shotgun…

Haphazard blasts of blue light fired out from Dragan's Aether, bombarding the area below and sending dust flying in every direction. It was only when the smoke cleared that Dragan saw the attack had been useless. The Awakening had simply pointed a single digit up into the air and allowed the fingerbone to bloom, creating an umbrella-like shield to protect itself from harm.

Burning breath poured out from within the rows of bones --

-- and it moved.

It was an attack that Dragan Hadrien could have dodged. It was an attack that Dragan Hadrien should have dodged. Instead, he just floated there as he felt the hand of the Awakening seize hold of his head and slam him down into the ground…

…again…

He'd told Azez.

"I'm going to drive your Supremacy into the ground."

…and again…

He'd told Skipper.

"I'll do it."

…and again…

He'd told Bruno.

"Have I done something that made you think I wanted you here?"

…and again.

Dragan's face was a bloody ruin by the time the Awakening was done, throwing him down to the ground and raising its arms up into the air. Tiny fragments of bone -- plucked from the battlefield air -- began to gather into a whirling dervish between its hands, the attack quickly dwarfing the Awakening's own body. This was a force that would shred flesh to mince and mince to dust and dust to nothing.

Perhaps that was for the best at this point.

No.

The only

The only one who

The only one who decides what happens to me is me!

Before the Awakening could bring its attack down, Dragan suddenly lunged up -- energised by some final feral impulse -- and thrust an arm forward, nearly foaming at the mouth as he snarled.

There was no concept of restraint.

Gemini Railgun! Gemini Railgun! Gemini Railgun! Gemini Railgun! Gemini Railgun! Gemini Railgun! Gemini Railgun! Gemini Railgun! Gemini Railgun!

GEMINI RAILGUN! GEMINI RAILGUN! GEMINI RAILGUN!

RAILGUN! RAILGUN! RAILGUN! RAILGUNRAILGUNRAILGUNRAILGUN!

RAILGUUUUUUN!

By the time Dragan Hadrien was done, there was nothing left of his enemy -- and little left of the building around them. The skyscraper had become a cloud of dust and smoke, whirling around like the beginnings of a hurricane. Such destruction wasn't even out of place in the wasteland Serendipity was quickly becoming…

…because of him.

He couldn't just stick around here.

Dragan slowly rose to his feet, turning to look at the black blot that was the Sheshanaga. UniteFleet ships -- previously on standby -- had leapt into the atmosphere to engage the Supremacy flagship directly, and the Shesha was returning fire. Already, Dragan could see one of the UniteFleet ships brought low, falling down into the city… but still, the Sheshanaga would fall. That was inevitable now. Alone in the heart of enemy territory like this, it would eventually fall. It would simply take its pound of flesh before it did so.

He needed to… he needed to come up with a new plan now that all of this had happened. He needed to adjust the plan. Rather than the Sheshanaga being captured, it was being destroyed. The reaction back in the Supremacy would be different from what they'd predicted. They'd need to… they'd need to account for that with their next moves. He needed to talk to North and figure out what to do.

Don't be stupid, Dragan Hadrien told himself. If the Sheshanaga has been hijacked, then you know what must have happened to North.

Dragan ran a clammy hand over his face. Right, right. He needed to figure this out himself. He needed to get off this planet. He needed to get out of here. With the stink of smoke, and the buzzing of automatics, and the screaming, he couldn't think. He couldn't think. He needed to --

NEBULA SIX

Beckett del Brainen

Underframe

Nebula of Brainen

"Seriously…?" Dragan Hadrien mumbled.

The beast crashed into him from behind. Beckett del Brainen's third Aether Awakening bore no resemblance to its two predecessors. Not architectural, nor humanoid. A massive skeletal serpent -- the size and length of a train -- seized Dragan between its jaws and stretched up into the sky, as if seeking to hold its prize aloft.

Dragan blinked, and found that his vision was covered in white. He'd all but blinded himself with that last barrage of Railguns. That was fine, though.

Even as the serpent thrashed this way and that, sending Dragan's body whipping through the air, he moved calmly. His thumbs went deep into his eyesockets, and he felt his eyeballs give way to their advance. Near-blindness became actual blindness as Dragan withdrew his thumbs again, taking what was left of his eyes with them.

It hurt, but that was fine. There was a kind of justice in that.

"Pan…" he murmured. "Help…"

She was saying something to him, he knew, but the words felt vague and indistinct, like faint clouds. New eyes were growing, at any rate, as he'd requested. Dragan's vision returned -- and he was free to see the chaotic blur of the city as the serpent finally hurled him towards the Seat of Man.

An unlucky swarm of combat automatics were reduced to scrap as Dragan flew through them, his body crashing into a landing platform on the outside of the building and nearly destroying it entirely. He took a rattling breath as he stood back up, fixing one of his arms back into its socket. He needed to finish this -- and finish this, and finish this, and finish this, as many times as it took.

The serpent lunged across the city, white jaws open wide for crushing -- and Dragan Hadrien launched off to meet it.

The first time you see a certain something, you find it incredible. Awe-inspiring.

For Dragan Hadrien, that thing had been the sky.

In Crestpoole, the breather city, all light was artificial, all air recycled. The idea of a sun was a bad joke, the closest thing a pale glow through the clouds.

Quite often, Dragan would stand on one of Breather 19's balconies and stare up, trying to see them. He'd read about them in books, seen them in videographs - these things called stars. Lights that made themselves.

He never saw a thing. For all he knew, these things called stars were pure fiction. For all he knew, the world that he saw was all there was.

But still … stars burned all by themselves, perpetual, never needing anyone or depending on anyone. There wasn't a thing in the world that could hurt them.

And they shone so bright … like nothing else in the universe. Bright enough to light up the dark.

Dragan Hadrien had thought that he would quite like to be a star.

I'm such an idiot.

Dragan Hadrien hadn't understood a thing. He'd looked at a star and thought it free, but he couldn't have been further from the truth. The cruelty of it was that he only understood now -- now that it was too late.

A star is a slave.

Locked into orbit of the galactic core, locked into the blackness of space, locked into fire upon fire and flame. A star could never take a step for itself. A star could never make a choice for itself. A star couldn't change a thing in this world.

Oh, Dragan Hadrien thought. I really am a star.

Gemini Coilgun.

He closed his eyes to the enemy before him.

Gemini Coilgun.

He closed his eyes to the destruction around him.

Gemini Coilgun.

He closed his eyes to the planet, to the galaxy, to the entire fucking universe. He didn't want to see any of it anymore. His scorched eyes had seen enough. Whether or not he saw anything more with them, he knew now that he wouldn't truly understand it.

Besides…

…he'd come here to find better eyes in the first place, hadn't he?

A blue star burned, annihilating the skeletal serpent. Bone became dust and dust became ash and ash became nothing. Within the cloud of disintegrating confetti, within the sphere of burning motion, the spindly silhouette of Dragan Hadrien floated in place.

By the time he finally lifted Gemini Coilgun, several minutes later, the only part of him that wasn't charred black was his long white hair. Wheezing through scorched lungs, Dragan Hadrien looked up with a crunch of bone, twin sparks of blue light shining through his burnt sockets. Slowly, slowly, he lowered himself down to the ground.

Ships were falling above him. A city was burning beside him. A massacre was exploding beneath him.

He couldn't see any of it.

That was fine. That was the way things should have been from the start. He could feel it now, in the back of his head. Alien impulses disguised as his own. The advice of the Prince. The advice he had come here to acquire in the first place.

Pan was saying something. He couldn't hear her.

Dragan Hadrien took one step forward, then another, then another. As his warped shape slowly began to regenerate, he marched towards the Seat of Man. There was work to be done. He could feel it. A path to the promise he'd made.

Make this stick for me.

Thank goodness. If he was being given a path, then he had something to keep walking on.

This is better, he thought to himself. Someone like me shouldn't have been making decisions in the first place.

He kicked off the air again, dragging himself through the sky. A shroud of dust and debris clung to his form. Before anything else, he needed to clear the way forward.

So, the thing looked up and spoke.