The Destinia Apocalypse (The Starguards - Of Humans, Heroes, and Demigods Book 4)

by Raymond Burke

  Earth was on the precipice of the universal event horizon.

  Ten billion Lore, three billion Zater Jen, thousands of Surge and Chryrians, four Celestian Knights, four Starguards, two Astrals, and three humans watched as inch by inch, space around earth was engulfed by the ultra-dense blackness, until a permanent night eclipsed them. Earth lay outside the centre of the black hole’s heart, but still they survived.

  Zane wondered how they could still be alive. It occurred to her that while the Storm of Stars looked and acted like stars, they weren’t. They were something else manifesting themselves as stars and black holes.

  At this realisation, with her still-open mind link, she flashed-thought her ideas to the minds of the Zater Jen, the principle shield against the Storm of Stars; their crystal bodies resonating against the song of the Gods, deflecting much of their power.

  Cosmogod saw this as his chance, >Starmondaus, summon the Light Guard!<

  Starmondaus obeyed turning his mind outward.

  >Husband!< warned Celesophia, >Your energies will be dashed against walls of infinity<

  >No, Zane is right. They are not stars, though they are energy beings; they bluff their import for we would be dust by now if it were not so< he smiled in the knowledge.

  Starmondaus had sung his psi-summons and the Light Guard had appeared from nowhere on his flank.

  >Guard, on me!< came the Zater Jen leader's rallying call.

  Cosmogod, the Light Guard, Geomega, Areigna, and Arcanaut, joined their leader taking to the air. Cosmogod enlightened them en route.

  >There were six Shadow Stars, now there is only one. We seek to make them six again and kill them one by one!<

  There was a unified roar of approval as they stared down the black heart of death.

  Millennius watched as his son led his small force into the depths of eternity. He could see what Hellennius was about to attempt. He wasn’t going to let his first born die in vain, like Xathanius. He time-ported to the waiting Lore circling above the Earth like a second atmosphere. He welcomed Spheron, with gladness, but with a heavy heart over the news about his son.

  “This is it, old friend. We will not fail this universe.” He clasped arms with Spheron.

  “Then let us fight well and long many we live!” Spheron smiled, echoing his friend and leader's words from a lifetime ago.

  Millennius gave a mental command. Ten billion Lore obeyed. From the darkened skies, beacons of light shone forth as they ascended into hell; their hellion shrieks threatening to tear the night apart.

  From the darkened fortress hall, Zane looked up in awe. Who would have thought the Lore would become saviours? She wasn’t the only one. She looked over at the Time Empress, whose serene pale face looked on in wonderment. And then Zane saw it, the resemblance. Just like her mother. At that moment, the Time Empress looked at Zane and smiled.

  Family: the word flittered through Zane's mind.

  Phasia glided over and held the young girl’s hand. They both turned their heads toward the warring skies.

  This was the moment. Cosmogod and his forces were only the vanguard; now three billion more crystal soldiers led by Phasia and the Time Empress lifted their bodies and minds arising from the broken fortress dome to assault the Gods.

  Zane silently saluted them as they disappeared into the night sky.

  In that instant, free of the Zater Jen guard, Decion chose his moment to re-evaluate his decision. He smartly marched over to Sceptre.

  “Sceptre, Aerl . . .” He hesitated while he choked on his pride. “I wish to renounce my association with the Knights Destina. They are. . .” he harrumphed, “quite mad! I will serve you,” he managed to strangle the words out. Sinking down on one knee in submission to the Starguard leader, his lancesword towered over him.

  Sceptre looked around at the rest of the Starguards. One by one they silently voted with a nod or shake of the head. The result in, Sceptre gave their answer.

  “Decion, your ultimate punishment will be decided once we return to Magna Aura, but for now you may rejoin us and earn a little redemption.”

  Decion bowed his head in acquiescence. “Yes, Aerl.” His voice a gravelly whisper, his brow sweaty.

  “But what can we do to fight?” Urana said, none too happy to see Decion back amongst them, shooting him a baleful glance.

  “We need the rest of the Chryrians and the Surge,” Gordell said plainly.

  He glared at Valtare, who attentively stared back at him. Valtare’s heart pounded. He had never witnessed anything like this and though he was endowed with power and wisdom well beyond his natural years, he was still essentially a Stone Age man living beyond his time. The end of the universe was something he was not meant to see.

  I'd been promised so much, but lost so much more: Elisabeth most of all. He thought of her. And now he had to make a hard choice.

  He suddenly smiled ruefully at his own stupidity, realising too late he had psionically broadcast his private thoughts. Gordell smiled back, not revelling in his pain, but in empathy. Gordell had lost much as well.

  >The enemy of my enemy is our enemy< came Gordell’s sardonic reply. He looked up at the Storm of Stars.

  Valtare sighed in resignation. He looked at Spearhead, who in turn gave a small bow of acknowledgement.

  Valtare walked over to Gordell, much to the disgust of Archron who could only watch in silence. Facing the Starguards who were still gathered in the recesses of the hall, Valtare awaited his fate.

  “Forgive me . . .”

  “Oh, shut up and get in the redemption queue,” Force shouted, having regained the ability to talk.

  The Starguards looked at him.

  “What?” he shrugged. “Look up there!” he gestured to the cosmic battle. “The more turncoats the better, we need all the help we can get!” he loitered in the background, hungry again, and thinking of marshmallows.

  A number of nods and murmurs agreed with him.

  “Valtare, will the Surge fight with us?” Gordell asked.

  “Spearhead will fight,” Valtare said. “They have also realised their mistake following Destina. We could do with your side’s help though. I could sense them all in the hills. They kept you alive all this time.” He almost sounded impressed.

  Gordell understood him. He closed his eyes, sending out a psionic signal. He could feel the presence of many Chryrians and Silverwraiths, but to the north, the response felt strange.

  In less than fifteen minutes he found out why. From out of the hills, thousands of floating brain-like Chryrians and hovering shadowy Silverwraith emerged, along with an unexpected sight: Duke Fabien L’Coyle and twenty of his surviving men.

  They looked fitter and more alive, the Chryrians within them having optimised them to peak human condition.

  L’Coyle scowled at Valtare, dismissing him with a wary look. He stood by Gordell’s side.

  “Gordell, my feud with you is over,” L’Coyle stated calmly. The Chryrian within him expressed his depth of sincerity on a level surpassed by mere speech. “Archron and Valtare betrayed both myself and my men. We are what is left and we will fight by your side.” He held out his hand.

  Gordell could hear the Chryrian within him. L’Coyle and his men were now as he was, involuntary bearers of Chryrians, but they had survived and now they had to use their abilities to stay alive. Gordell took his hand. >Welcome friend< he added.

  Valtare walked slowly over. He looked L’Coyle in the eye, ashamed. “I am sorry, Fabien. I was also deceived and seduced by the power offered to me. But here, I make amends.” He also held out his hand. >Will my enemy of my enemy be my friend?< Valtare played with Gordell’s words.

  L’Coyle smiled warily, turning to his men. They had no choice. They accepted the peace offering, grudgingly.

  His depleted force of men were still on edge from their transformation. They stood around L'Coyle protectively, their new acknowledged leader, still wary of Valtare and his betrayal.

  Ignoring them, Valtare as
ked aloud to Gordell. “So what’s the plan?”

  Archron was torn. This was not the universe he had envisioned. His mother was mad with power. He'd known, but didn't care. All he wanted now was a drink. He had to do something.

  Decion and Valtare had willingly abandoned him for Sceptre and the Starguards. They had now formed a circle with the Chryrians who provided a protective psychic shield.

  Archron grimaced. No, this was not what I wanted at all.

  The end of the universe should have been his prerogative. The Gods needed to prevail and rule over them and their new universe. Frantic, Archron searched around him for inspiration.

  Spearhead and his Surge stood impassively by. They could see the raw psychic energy emanating from the Chryrians’ minds siphoned from the fleshy-ones and directed at the rich energy sources above them. They could feel the power, taste the flavour of the beings who designated themselves Gods. They gratefully fed off it. They couldn't help but gorge on the chaos created by the Storm of Stars, feeling the supremacy course through them. And it was good.

  Archron, crouched on the crumbling ground, watched first Cosmogod lead the fight, then the Lore, followed by the rest of the Zater Jen. To his right he glanced at Spearhead, who like the rest of the Surge, was a virtual statue, all their extremities, winglets, and protrusions extended fully. It took Archron a moment to remember this was their feeding posture. And they were positively drunk on the energy raining down on them.

  He laughed out loud to himself. The Storm of Stars were creating the most potent weapon against them, just by letting off their own energy. Archron realised his voidspear was also as strong a weapon, which could be used against his enemies and save his mother. She was still surrounded by the Surge, her powers rent from her. He knew the Surge would fight. And who better to lead them. He ran over to Spearhead. But never made it.

  Destina seethed. Her plan was falling apart. The Antiqchronals were supposed to be on her side and to hell with the rest of them. The Knights Destina had failed to uphold their legacy. Now, in her madness, she could see even her last and most beloved son was going to betray her. She had seen Archron’s face when first the duplicitous Decion and then the wretched hybrid-human Valtare had left and now she believed Archron was contemplating an alliance with the Starguards. She could not have that.

  Before Archron could reach the Surge leader, Destina threw off her unsuspecting Surge guards still semi-paralysed by their feeding. Bursting into her Lore form, she soared down grabbing Archron by the neck, ripping off his helmet. Her face was so close to his that his skin burned.

  He tried to scream, “Mother, I’m trying to help . . .” but his voice was choked off.

  Archron tried to raise the voidspear to shoot her off him, but his shot went wild and hit a Surge. Destina plunged an arm of energy into her son’s chest, Archron feeling incandescent pain. He stared helplessly into his mother's raging eyes. He couldn't speak. As if in a dream, Destina raised her other hand ready to embrace his head, to kiss him. A metal arm caught hers.

  Chasm had been struck and interrupted during feeding by Archron’s stray shot. Just in time he witnessed Destina attack his Astral master. The huge Surge bounded over in two steps and wrapped himself around Destina, pulling her away from Archron, who dropped like a rag doll to the ground.

  Archron laughed to himself. The ancient Spartans had been wrong. He could see his blood spilling all over his red armour and cape. There was blood everywhere. He coughed blood in agony. He choked, gagging at the smell himself burning.

  Destina struggled, even more when she realised which energy-stealing Surge was feeding off her. She exploded with rage trying to shake Chasm off as he rose up into the air under the dome; Destina rightly fearing the worst.

  >Feed, in remembrance of me!< Chasm’s thoughts radiated out. Then in one massive shudder, he completely absorbed Destina.

  Her Lore face was a silent scream as Chasm’s body struggled to contain all the energy, which he knew he could not. Hundreds of Surge flew up to him, just as he ruptured, the nearest Surge in proximity soaking up the excess energy.

  Spearhead didn’t waste a moment mourning for Chasm. The giant Surge was a part of him now, a shard of memory-energy. He would be avenged on the Gods.

  Archron craned his neck in amazement as every single Surge blasted off toward the battle. He slumped sideways, life slipping away. He died alone as war raged around him.

  “Jesus!” Force cried out. “Did everyone see that? She killed her own son, the bitch!”

  “Almost felt sorry for him,” Urana tittered. “Almost!”

  Sceptre smiled grimly at his cousin, but didn't disagree.

  “Two less enemies to worry about!” exclaimed Gordell, pointedly to Valtare and L'Coyle. “I have a plan. Allons-y!”

  Deep in the cosmos, six figures looked on with compassionless senses. The Prime Stars were concerned. All their peoples had managed to put their differences aside and fight against them. This had not been anticipated.

  One Prime Star mooted breaking ranks, but his brother Prime Star argued against it. They owed their sibling Shadow Stars more loyalty. And the new universe would be remade with more readily pacified peoples. The other four Prime Stars agreed: The creation of the five Peoples would be undone, here and now, despite this singularity moment among the Five.

  =We can begin again; create new peoples and leave these, our first creations, to self-determination= Prime Star said.

  =They have already possessed self-determination. And then they awakened us when it did not work= Prime Star replied.

  =They are still younglings= Prime Star lamented.

  =Even our beloved Lore have turned against us. Look how they feast upon our Shadow siblings= Prime Star complained.

  =Look how much they love life enough to fight us for it= Prime Star stated proudly.

  The Prime Stars continued to argue amongst each other as the Shadow Stars were attacked.

  Shadow Star felt it first; a prickling sensation upon its material surface.

  ≠Brother, our Peoples arise in ire against us. What is to be done?≠

  ≠We are one against them. They cannot win≠ Shadow Star was concerned.

  ≠Continue the Maelstrom≠ Shadow Star ordered.

  ≠We are vulnerable as one≠ Shadow Star warned.

  ≠But no stronger than as individuals≠ Shadow Star rallied for battle.

  They sang to their sibling Prime Stars for help.

  Valtare barely sensed it the first time. Inside the Silver Fortress, he sat on the ground cross-legged, deep in meditation. He didn't mind getting his light silky purple clothing dirty. He was scanning the chaotic background of the psi-scape searching for ways to attack, offering assistance to patch through psi-messages, learning—always learning new psi skills and languages from the Chryrians, Surge, and Zater Jen. Their psi-senses were so different, but still mutually intelligible. It amazed him. He froze mid-smile. Another sensation had intruded his thoughts—a disorientating tilt within the psi-scape; a mind not like their own, neither Antiqchronal, Celestian, or human. It was alien, ephemeral, eternal, yet structured. He instantly understood.

  It was the mind of a God.

  The Storm of Stars had minds, brains; a hypermind, even if a tenuous physical manifestation.

  He immediately flash-relayed his thoughts through all the psis in their circle on the ground and to the Surge and Zater Jen who were fighting within the composite Shadow Star. The Storm of Stars may have been beings of energy, but their vast intellect and ability to manifest in so many forms and for so long, had to have created a structure akin to a physical brain, no matter the supernatural nature of the being. The thoughts of the Storm of Stars could not be read, but they could be felt. And they could be attacked.

  But first, they had to find it.

  >Light Guard, locate the hypermind< Cosmogod instructed Ego Byss.

  The Glorious Ego Byss, Captain of the Light Guard called out to his force:

  >Ax Omen, Ad
am Finitum, Geona Zen we go home to the depths of evil. Long may we live!<

  The Light Guard selected the strongest signal and vanished through black-light portals almost invisible against the Shadow Stars. They sifted through the outskirts of the minds of the Shadow Stars. They counted no less than sixteen different dimensions the complex mind was spread out across.

  Back on Earth, as the black circle of hell descended, another decision had been made.

  “We can attack through the Chryrians,” Gordell confirmed, after a quick conference with the psi-beings. “They will take over our consciousnesses and we can take the fight to the Storm of Stars on the psionic front.”

  “What happens to our bodies?” Force asked, somewhat nervous at being a ghost while he was still alive.

  “They will remain here in the fortress,” Gordell replied. “There are barracks beyond the chamber. It would be safer this way rather than having to attack physically.”

  “But consider this,” Valtare added in caution to Gordell's chagrin, “We could die here, both bodily and in mind. But if we attack the Storm of Stars and our bodies die, our minds would survive with the Chryrians, almost forever.” He grinned knowingly as he looked around at the group.

  “Nice of you to be an optimist,” Force grimly laughed. “Well, we’re on the wrong side of Nevada, my powers have changed, and I’m fighting against Gods, so why not have an out of body experience to boot. I’m in.” He put his right hand in the middle of an imaginary horizontal circle.

  Gordell and Valtare put their hands on top of Force’s. L’Coyle, lis pursed in consternation, followed.

  Sceptre, Urana, Decion, and Azure looked at each other. It was the ultimate sacrifice for the fate of the universe.

  “And our role?” Sceptre asked.