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

by Raymond Burke

  Gasping as he felt his life ebbing away, Gordell focused all his energy and forced through a psionic burst to Valtare who, with other Chryrians, were trapped by and avoiding other tendrils in one of the many sections open to space.

  >Charles, forgive me for not returning< Gordell spoke to the memory of his son.

  Gordell’s psionic mass vanished, absorbed by the Prime Star. His centuries’ old physical body began to crumble, now free of the Chryrians which had kept him alive, and who had died as well. The other Chryrians mourned. Others poured into the surviving Starguard and human bodies to reinforce them with more energy.

  Meanwhile, Force had mentally re-armed and began firing real ammunition made from Surge metal supplied by Sine. The metal limpets attached themselves to the Prime Star draining its energy as Sine sacrificed and cannibalised more redundant features of the fortress in order to fashion weapons. Lore, Surge, and Zater Jen swept from the fortress, attacking from all sides; the Prime Star like a ravenous space monster attacking a ship of the stars. The Chryrians started erecting psionic shields and pushing the tendrils out. The Prime Star had no choice but to retreat from the attacks.

  Paralleling the fortress, the psionic Starguards rallied the Antiqchronal forces.

  >We should form psionic versions of ourselves and attack that way< Sceptre psyed to Decion and Urana. He felt their agreeable replies.

  Slowly, their indistinct psi-forms morphed into their familiar identities. They felt their energies rising. Immediately, Sceptre blazed away with his light energy, carving through the Prime Star. Urana’s plasma energy rained down upon the Prime Star, while Decion cut huge swathes through it with his lancesword. The combined attack further dislodged the Prime Star, which sought to withdraw. With Valtare directing the energy absorbers and devourers of the Surge and Lore they continued to leech from it. God was bleeding to death.

  A huge cheer went up. But many voices were silent, including Gordell’s. Finally able to comprehend the carnage left behind, Valtare felt his absence keenly, though the Exmoor’s last message to him had been gratefully received. Valtare performed a quick prayer for his missing and newly acknowledged friend. Hastily making his way to the cockpit for a semblance of normalcy, he found Force busy psychically repairing and upgrading some of the smashed instrument instruments. He also wanted it to be personal.

  >We lost Gordell< Valtare's sad thoughts flowed forth.

  >What do you mean< Force almost snapped back a joke. But he saw a mental image. >Oh, shit, no! Now what< his mind was a flood of sadness.

  >We fight on. How is it going, here? We took some big hits<

  Grateful for a change of subject, Force psyed, >We’re fine, patched up and ready to go. In fact my timescope< he pointed to a random round spinning dial on the pilot’s display, >says we should be about there. Look< He gestured out the starboard cockpit windows to the starry background.

  The Lady Elisabeth found its strand coiled tightly around a star about to supernova.

  >Er, if that strand is released, wouldn't that star. . . like. . . go. . . < his cheeks mushroomed out, his hands mimicking an explosion, >Kaboom<

  His reply was a wave of defiant assurance laced with humour from the Antiqchronals.

  >We can handle such power< one of the Surge psyed back.

  >I'm dealing with cocky Surge, now< Force murmured to himself. He twisted his neck, getting rid of imagined kinks. >Okay, taking her in< he warned everyone.

  The flying fortress banked and dove down on the black spiky strand strafing and bombing it until the ragged strand gave up its anchor. Force pulled for all his might on the throttle to escape.

  The star shuddered, wracked with pent-up rage. It exploded.

  At once the Zater Jen shifted the fortress into a temporal portal on an intercept course with the now-free strand, which attacked the fortress like a great whip of energy. But Force maintained his shields and fired, plunging the throttle forward, gunning the Lady Elisabeth after the strand. The kaleidoscopic colours of the portal almost psi-blinded Force, but he trusted his instruments and other psis to guide him. Finally the strand broke out of the portal and into normal space, the flying fortress hot on its heels.

  >Now where the blazes are we?< Force asked, literally seeing red, golden, and orange skies in front to him. They were in some kind of hell.

  The Light Guard made the breakthrough. They had traced the Hypermind to a region of space far beyond the universal horizon, nestled in the millions-of-degrees heat of the early Big Bang. Other psionic tendrils snaked away to dimensions and temporal zones, under siege from the rest of their forces, they hoped. And in that cauldron of creation, a single entity awaited.

  The sixteen anti-Storm-of-Star forces emerged from their respective disparate dimensions and temporal zones as all the cosmic strands came shrivelling back into the so-called Hypermind. The five Peoples surrounded the Hypermind in a tightening physical, psychic, and temporal sphere, but they could only reach to within a thousand years of the entity before being repelled by primordial energies and psionic blasts.

  God was fighting back.

  >Converge for battle plans< Cosmogod wished to liaise with the other battle leaders in person rather than extend their psionic messages across enemy lines. >Hold the lines< he ordered the rest of the forces to maintained their containment.

  >Ho!< echoed the chorused acknowledgement.

  The leaders of the Lore, Surge, Zater Jen, Chryrians, the Stargaurds, remaining Celestian Knights, and Valtare assembled to the rear of the battle group. Familiar acquaintances and new allies exchanged greetings and experiences. Others were more personal.

  >Xathanius! Hellennius!< Millennius felt great joy as he embraced both his sons, introducing them to each other. They looked upon their father, a Lore, with a mixture of pride, revulsion, and sadness.

  Aeon had described his death in detail and what his own daughter had done to save him.

  “A Loremaiden?” Millennius asked, regret in his voice. He wouldn't have wished his curse to affect any more of his family.

  “Yes, father, but she was able to save me only because of the gift bestowed upon her through you. She's extraordinary!”

  That they could both agree on.

  Aeon turned to Hellennius. “So, I finally meet my long-lost half-brother.” Aeon was pleased. His natural temporal shielding and armour protected him as he swam in the deadly surrounding environment. “We have much to talk about after, mostly how to save our father.”

  Millennius laughed as much as he could as a Lore. “Son, with you two, I am saved, no matter what I have become.” His body trembled as he felt a weird twinge within him, akin to his heart being drenched in absolute cold. Something stirred within him.

  “Haha,” Azure laughed happily while catching up with Phasia and Zane. “That was some trick with your father you pulled off, Zane,” she complimented the young Astral.

  Her next words froze in her mouth. She felt a surge of energy within her. Her vision clouded over in a flash of blue. The last time she had felt that was when . . .

  Dread rocketed through her as she looked around for the source of her ill-feelings and was drawn Millennius. She focused on him not knowing why. Her Lore sight, able to detect Lore energy, delved inside Millennius. She saw through his golden energy. She inhaled sharply. A core of pulsing blue was building around his heart.

  Millennius felt the cold surging and grip his heart. He heard a raucous laugh fill his Loreself.

  No, it cannot be! He realised his enemy had not been completely defeated as he had hoped.

  Synther was re-emerging.

  Azure raced over to Millennius to warn them all, but too late.

  Millennius’ golden hue flickered blue, then gold, then blue again as control was wrested between both Celestian Knights.

  Mid-conversation with Hellennius, Lord Aeon’s sword flared up, Phasia’s tempered blade responding to Synther’s energy.

  Millennius’ golden energy was being snuffed out; blue energ
y flashing with Synther’s features trying to usurp Millennius.

  “Kill me,” Millennius’ strained Lorevoice said. “Kill me before it’s too late!”

  Synther snarled, “It is too late!” He began to materialise into form from within.

  Aeon hesitated, his sword flashing in urgency.

  I won't kill my father! he vowed to himself even as he felt the sword being ripped from his hand.

  Cosmogod grabbed the sword and swung it around in one twisting motion piercing Millennius’ heart.

  >Grrrarrrgh!< came a long scream of agony.

  Hellennius drew the sword out of his father's shimmering heart, the blue essence of Synther’s soul perforated upon the blade.

  Synther screamed such a heart-rending noise even the Shadow Stars wept for him.

  Soaring over, an enraged Phasia savagely blasted the blade with her own energy counteracting Synther’s. The blue energy's pulse fizzled out on the blade like a dying beating heart. Phasia then heaved back throwing the sword toward the Hypermind, where the sword with it dying passenger melted into nothingness.

  >Is Synther destroyed?< Sceptre asked. His disembodied form looked anxiously back to where Millennius was being attended to by his sons.

  >Yes< Phasia psyed out, trying to sound certain.

  “About time!” Azure wished she had destroyed him the first time.

  >How do you know at this point in time and space Synther's energy isn't now the source of all evil in the universe?< Force psyed from the fortress, keeping pace with the gathered forces. No one thought he was joking.

  >He would love that!< Phasia psyed without humour, >But we will always be here to defeat all evil<

  They all seemed to agree to that. But there was an urgency to move on, Millennius' injury not withstanding. He still disconcertingly floated silently in space.

  Zane reached out to him. “Grandfather, are you okay?” She touched his arm. His lore eyes slowly held fire once more and his golden hue of energy shone forth in life. “Hell of a time for heart surgery,” she quipped.

  Millennius nodded. “Thanks to my son,” he acknowledged Cosmogod. “Now that Synther’s core energy is out of me, I’ll be fine. Get on with the battle,” he urged in his returning gruff voice.

  He wondered if this was the vision Destina had seen or if she had just being spiteful toward Hellennius. Either way, his son had actually saved him by killing his heart.

  >My father is correct. We go on< Hellennius charted their course forward. >Nothing but victory. Nothing but our survival. The Storm of Stars must free us from their yoke or perish! Onwards<

  A great roar went up from the Peoples. They reformed into their groups pushing through the primordial stardust and scorching heat. Great pulsing cosmic strings, X-holes, and howling galactic winds pushed them back, lives expiring to dangers of the horrific void along the way. But on they forged.

  And then they caught a glimpse; a tantalising peek behind the universal veil at their destination: the Hypermind.

  A single pulsing entity awaited them.

  “What is that?”

  “I can’t see it; it’s blurred!”

  >A light?<

  “No, it’s like a cosmic string, a loop, vibrating . . .”

  >It’s as big as a planet!<

  “Look at the colours, so bright!”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “Is that a face in it?”

  >No, just eyes!<

  “A man’s face?”

  “No, look, it’s female . . . wait, both!”

  “No, just a mind . . .”

  >Wow, a Boltzmann brain!<

  >Shut up, Force!<

  “I see circuits and machinery.”

  The image wavered and shimmered, but there was no disguising its nature.

  >Whatever it is, don’t forget it’s still the Storm of Stars, with twelve distinct personalities< Phasia reminded everyone.

  She addressed the being. >Whoever you are, Storm of Stars, we, your children stand against you, ready to smite you. Surrender your reign over us or die<

  There was no reply.

  There was only one option.

  >Attack!< came Cosmogod's order.

  A great psychic cry oppressed the heavens as the forces tore upon the Hypermind. They believed they were on the cusp of victory.

  But, they were fighting Gods after all.

  =We grow weary=

  The Hypermind’s outer surface flared violently, engulfing and trapping the Peoples in a bubble of raw primordial energy.

  =No matter what you perceive, we are still an illusion. You have not diminished or defeated us. You see what we want you to see. We made you what you are, but not in our image, not of our nature. We are beyond your imagining. We are Gods!=

  ≠Behold!≠

  A thought rang out from the Storm of Stars and all time stopped—froze. The entire universe ceased at the Storm of Stars’ will.

  =We will decide your fate. Observe=

  From their positions of stasis, the five Peoples watched as their lives were played out before them.

  ≠We will destroy you. Destroy everything≠

  Watching their lives from some otherworldly experience, the Lore, Surge, Chryrians, Zater Jen, Astrals, Celestian Knights, Starguards and humans were all killed; destroyed—their worlds, galaxies, and the universe unsung into their constituent motes of atomic dust. The atomic universe swirled around in eternity until new worlds formed. The Peoples endured billions of years of existence to see this universe born and die.

  But the Storm of Stars soon tired of this state.

  =We will leave you in this state forever; conscious yet frozen in temporal perpetuity. Contemplate your end and suffering in insanity=

  The Peoples endured a million years of unbearable pain and madness, conscious of every waking moment while incarcerated in their temporal trap. Dreams and nightmares combined, days turned to aeons, lives turned to dust, yet they remained all-too aware.

  But the Storm of Stars grew bored.

  ≠We will rule you≠

  The Gods ruled. They enslaved their children tasking them over the countless millennia to serve their needs and whims. The Peoples provided them sustenance, amusement, veneration—their very lives. The Peoples were subservient and quelled until the universe died.

  But the Storm of Stars grew disinterested.

  =We will punish you for eternity=

  The Storm of Stars delighted in punishments as the Peoples burned in perpetuity. When they did not burn, they feared being burned. When they slept, they burned; they dreamed of being burned. The Chryrians lost their minds, the Surge lost their skin, the Lore lost their fire, the Zater Jen lost their fluidity, the Fifths lost their purpose—all lost hope. Punishment was their reward until the universe died in misery.

  But still the Storm of Stars yet grew restless.

  ≠We will choose the People that will live≠

  Through five Great Ages, all the Peoples lived as one race succeeded by the other. First came the Lore, succeeded by the Chryrians, then the Zater Jen, followed by the Surge, leading to the Fifths. The universe bore each People one at a time delivering various fates and destinies, living and dying in peace, strife, disease, and bliss, ignorant of the existence of the other Peoples.

  But the Storm of Stars grew weary with one Peoples.

  The Antiqchronals were made to exist together, for better or for worse, and the after-thought Fifths had now ensconced themselves within the cosmic network. They were as indelible as the First Peoples.

  The Storm of Stars thought about this throughout the ages. Their children were now united in this universe. They had touched the hand of the Gods, endured all their losses, sufferings, tortures, and oblivion. And they had done so for each other over the immeasurable lifetimes of a myriad of nameless multiverses. Their children had shown a crude level of maturity worthy of more attention.

  The Storm of Stars deliberated for another short million years and made a decision.


  =Let live=

  Time began again.

  It was dark. Everywhere. Uncomfortably so. The trillions of Peoples looked around, but saw nothing, felt nothing. The Hypermind was gone. Or so they thought.

  From nowhere and everywhere came their voice.

  =Children of the Storm of Stars. You will remain alive at our pleasure. You will survive and multiply and recover your birthright. To the Peoples nominated as the Fifths, you will be renamed in a fashion deserving of your origins. You will hence forth be the Destina, befitting the child who called us forth in ignorance=

  ≠However, there is a price to be paid; none more terrible than the original price. You, Celestian Knights, who have all denied your end, your fates have expired. You will be commended to the universe≠

  Phasia and Millennius suddenly found themselves next to each other. They held hands in the darkness.

  “What do you mean all the Celestian Knights?” Sceptre asked into the darkness. While he could hear everything going on, he could not see anything beyond the penetrating blackness.

  Phasia answered back into the void. “Aerl, we were surely not the only Celestian Knights to escape. As you know from Elysius' message to Novan she did not know for certain who else had escaped through Alphatronius' vortex or who had survived on Galatia. But they will join us in the Halls of the Ancestors.”

  There followed a reverential silence at that thought, before Phasia continued.

  “And as the other Celestian Knights on Earth did, any survivors may have also produced kin and they will be alive somewhere. Find them, Aerl. Find them and let them know all what has happened. Reunite all the sons and daughters of the Celestian Knights.”

  Sceptre didn't have to think twice about it. He bowed to her wishes. “I will. I swear it!”

  A swell of compassion so rich in happiness permeated the space around Sceptre, tingling him. As he felt a fervour rise within his chest he couldn't help but cry in the darkness.