Archdjinni of the Rings: Hoopa (Warhammer 40k/Pokemon)

Today's events were to be forever etched in the records of Humanity as the Light won over Darkness, the day the Beast of the Apocalypse was sealed away after hours of blades and claws clashing. Remodeling the landscape forevermore and the birthing event of countless legends.

Or, for me, the day one of my grandest spells reached completion, though in a way that was less than ideal. It was a strange mix of emotions I had, but I was quite dissatisfied. Instead of a mortal ascending to godhood, I had a demi-god one step in and another out, extremely powerful regardless but not the optimal result.

The Numen of Light was botched but not unfixable with time, yet time is what I lacked. 

It wasn't a variable I didn't see coming, and why this didn't jeopardize my plan. I didn't put it in the contract for that reason; it wasn't one of the worst results. Even if godhood had been reached, he would have been, in terms of raw power, in a lower bracket than my weaker family members, powerful but not impossibly so, though with immense growth potential.

But this change was unwelcome; a nascent God would have significantly helped, yet again, it didn't change the result for the immediate future. It would just be far more unpleasant for him, but at his core, he was built for that. He would be alright. His incomplete apotheosis would suffice.

There was another thing.

We weren't slaves of our portfolio like the Tumors, but it influenced our state of being at every level. As a God assigned to Darkness, the slowed-down birth of an opposite was paradoxically relieving and frustrating. Asuryan wasn't like that. Not really. He was Power, Fire, and Wisdom, close and in points parallel but evidently distinct.

And what I was trying to do had been more than make a God. But it was another thing on top of a pile of frustration. At least the battle in Yuggoth's orbit was at the moment not won on the way to for the little worth it had. At best, it was a punch in the groin for those three. Anthropomorphization failed in a lot of cases, and this wasn't different, so the pact of their simulacrum of an ego was a mystery.

"Lord Hoopa…?" The head of Danxama mechanically snapped to Trazyn, a vestige of a flinch came over the Overlord, and I hummed for him to continue.

"You seem… unhappy."

"I'm my little automaton. But that's half of the truth. It's my childish wish for my idea to go the path I want, but despite all my abilities, I cannot see every shadow or know every road." I let out, observing the glowing gold human, my gaze more than likely not escaping his senses. I wasn't exactly trying, either.

"Understand, do you require any more of my presence?" I could hear the 'Okay, I don't understand, but huzzah, I won't be erased from existence today' despite the lack of a mind, expression, or distinct tone of voice to read. There were many reasons why he and Orikan were a favorite of Cegorach beyond the two amusing rivalry and competencies at their jobs.

"No. You may go. I don't hold you hostage." I chuckled, and he scurried away, fast, vanishing in a flash of green soon after to the upper layers of the Vault. 

"Aahh… now onto you," I mumbled, studying Enkidu by his false name, standing there, trying and failing to grasp the psychic barrier I had placed since I destroyed it. 

At this instant, he possessed greater raw power than the Avatar I was piloting, but without control and practice, this big number meant nothing. Battles were not solely decided on who could make the biggest, hottest, brightest fireball.

He was a newborn learning to walk. His psychic might was running wild and uncontrolled in contrast to the start of the day. Nothing a few years can't fix, but it is definitely a problem in fighting an equally powerful opponent. I doubt he will for a long time. Hopefully, at least, Ollanius is free to do as he pleases and, with my due, would likely be able to prove dangerous.

But it wasn't for Enkidu's capabilities to vaporize mountains I poured such effort into him. 

My curse was peculiar, indeed. A new master was what I needed, and if I betrayed said master, I would be put back in my flask. On paper and at first glance, it was perfect, but it wasn't. The Flask of Sealing was, for all its strengths, left unfinished by its creator due to an early death and patched up by the frog bitch.

It was flawed, flaws that led to the darkness in R'lyeh and my abilities to bypass some of its shields. But it wasn't that it would eventually break that interested me. Again, I didn't have the time despite the eroding nature of the environment down there. It couldn't stop any powerful individuals of the Warp from claiming me if the rings were gathered. 

My point was that the curse was vague; she didn't learn from her mistakes. Certainly, I can't just declare myself as my own master. The clever bitch made it impossible with the meaning of master she used. Someone who wasn't me or of my essence.

But her cleverness was limited. She wasn't imaginative, too rigid and cold in her thought pattern—the epitome of irony for the ones who have warred against robots for eons. The point to focus on was the master, and I decided to raise one by proxy in a controlled environment.

But that wasn't enough. How the Old Ones controlled us–Aeldari Gods–wasn't a simple matter of ingrained order and loyalty. Oh, there was plenty of that, yet this played little compared to True Names. The very core of every soul-bearing creature, biological or not.

Knowing it granted the ability to mold the owner to your will, or so it was the gist. A child learning a Lord of Change's name and using it won't have a good end, and it should be for the Old Ones if there weren't an inbuilt protection for them, a protection that would be given to my hypothetical master.

'There, take it.' I thought, sensing through the box the ring being taken and fiddled with by none other than Enkidu, who midway abandoned trying to locate me and went directly to the magically sealed box.

It was a reckless action, clearly, to go and play with the alien and potentially cursed ring, but who am I to just? It's not like he didn't have a good grasp of what it did, and so he put it on his left index finger. 

From it, a connection between our minds was made. Any defense against telepathy he had was rendered utterly ineffective. Not that this type of defense would have helped since it wasn't classic telepathy the ring did. It was using the senses of the mind; to deafen it was akin to stopping hearing.

-And so we finally speak, El Shaddai.- I intoned serenely for answers. I earned a peak of panic accompanied by dread, shortly turning into calm resolution with understanding at me using a fragment of his True Name, one built together from thousands by yours truly.

-What are you, creature? No, who are you? What do you want? Is that you who orchestrated this series of events?- He shot question after question, many rhetorical, yet each with hundreds of variations in possible answers. But he remained pretty polite despite finding out he couldn't remove the ring or cut off the body parts it was attached to.

He should have paid attention when those who served as prime material listened to my explanation of the fine print. 

He didn't have memories of every soul that had fused to become the bright singularity that he was. It's to be expected; I didn't want an insane madman with a multiple personality disorder and more, which would have happened if I did. The mind was a delicate matter.

He has enough to understand his situation by piecing things together, but it stops there. He lacked a lot. As I promised, a new life with unfathomable power at your fingertips was fair, lore, and mastery of the arcane in your living paid by your soul in death. 

It's just that people–mortals and ironically or not–tend to be unable to foresee the consequences in the future. Not for my lack of warning, I gave them the freedom of choice. It's not my fault if they choose the path that benefits me in the long run.

I wasn't disingenuous.

-I'm Shahar, the Lord of Dawn, but this name and title are merely a fragment of a greater whole. It's the name I told to the mortals of this planet I once upon a time in a different space called home. I'm more widely known as Hoopa.- That was the truth, 'Shahar' was a minute portion of my True Name distorted beyond comprehension to avoid a sudden head explosion.

His reaction was quite amusing, but I had plenty more revelation to give. His worldview would change quite a bit.

-I'm what one might call a God, aspects, and concepts given mind, soul, and form from the Sea of Souls or the Warp as it is known in the wider galaxy to put it into simple terms, though I'm artificial for I'm a weapon older than Humanity itself. My desires are simple: my freedom and the prospering of life, and now the first is to be taken care of.- I explained in as few words as possible.

-For the last, that is an accurate view of the event.- I let out, and there was a sizable pause where El Shaddai processed what I said, and then his mood quieted to one of absolute calm.

-I understand… Father. What is my purpose?- I paused at this appellation. From a certain angle, it wasn't wholly inaccurate; I created him and engineered his birth. But at best, I was a builder, and he was a means to an end, not a son in any way. That he has other uses as a guardian and guide to humans was of no consequence to the above. 

'Let's wait and see…' I frowned, unsure of how to effectively respond so I would deflect. It would rock the boats around the family; that was only a matter of time until they learned of his existence, and ultimately, I cared little. Ignoring that, then.

-None. Those are for you to find and not mine to implant. You are not a child nor my slave nor a tool, but the debt must be repaid.- I intoned to him, -The ring must be joined to its five counterparts upon the looped bottle to free me.-

-I will be your guide in this journey.- I added with finality. It wasn't a proposition. He had no alternative but to accept, for it was something he willingly agreed to do, and I was thorough, far more than Cthylla ever was. 

But after this, little El was free to do what he wished. For now, he had to be good at doing his part of the bargain; otherwise, I would use force–also in the contract–to make myself clear. As I said, I was thorough. I revised alternatives upon alternatives of how it could and would go. Every word and its synonymous counterparts were used with that singular goal in mind: to attain freedom.

•••••

"My apology for this impromptu meeting." Vileth, the Cardinal Gospel, leading Dark Muse and final authority of the Aeldari Empire, called with an alien air of tension around him from his luxurious chair of living flesh. The infinite view of Commorragh's obscene beauty and wealth from the highest spire, he was doing little to reduce the pressure in the air.

His audience of four stood silent, the absence of two Dark Muses evident to all.

"Is the recent disappearance of my venomous baby why you summoned us?" Lhilitu asked lazily, falling on a couch, her movement gracious and sensual, contrary to her displeased voice of someone having lost a mildly important toy. She was enraged, but she remarkably hid it.

"Not directly, and as to that point, you can consider him forever lost. He became sloppy and arrogant and paid the ultimate price. Speaking of… Urien, how is Qa'leh doing, as she showed positive results?" Valeth asked the youngest of their members, a faint smile that promised great and many horrors, but to the good doctor, that had no effect beyond a giggle.

"The Mistress of Blades is physically well, but the damage to her ethereal existence is extensive-" The Prophet of Flesh was cut short by a rageful Hekatii, the one who had been with Qa'leh the moment of the injury, "She is dead in spirit until further notice."

"Uwaaa, disappointing. At least she was funny." Lhilitu piped in with crocodile tears, showing the world how devastated she was, and if her acting were seen through here, none in the realm of mortals would be none the wiser.

"Vileth, should I prevent those two deaths from spreading? The faith is burning, but the slow war had quite its impact on our followers." Putting on standby levitation a fragment of those frustrating massive portals the Mon'Keigh Coalition was so fond of, Ynesth manifested a hard light tablet connecting her to every cosmic body under the rules of the Aeldari Empire—more precisely, the systems and knowledge within.

"Hmmm… We will speak of that later. I have invited you to reveal the revelation of my vision. I'm delighted to inform you that the time of the Rise and the Fall is upon us!" Vileth exclaimed with a maddening smile and eyes, emotions that were spread among the Dark Muses.

"Vily, is this real?! What excellent news!" The Consort of the Void clamored, standing upright, blood trickling from her right arm where she dug her fingers.

"Indeed it is! What a fabulous time to be alive and witness perfection incarnate grace our lowly flawed existence with his divine presence!" The Red Crone agreed with far more zeal.

"Ah, fantastic! Then, we shall begin the first phase, I presume? Our marked population must be brought to the primordial Maiden Worlds." The Dark Lady of Ash said more to herself than Vileth.

Urien Rakarth, for his part, stood smiling; there was no need for words, only action.

*

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