Time passes strange for the abomination in the dark star system, slow and incomprehensible for mortal minds, every moment an eon. It watches hungrily upon the streams of consciousness that flow into its gaping cosmic maw, ravenously consuming the psychic energies of the multiverse. It's tendrils of influence spreading invisibly through the stars. Thin lines of psychic energy that pull from every planet that is, was, and ever will be. Every moment of its life is consumption, and even though it is content with its existence, it feels the need to branch out personally. To take hold of mortals bodily and drag forth the foulest of emotions, to taste them with his own tongue. At this time, it seeks a planet that has remained innocent and untouched by his influence.

Strange to many would be the mention of his name alone, for humanity learned the word from him. Not the other way around. For this race, it danced lightly and near meaningless. The Divine was pleased to see a world so incorrupted by the mention of his name, Wrath, it gave him a fresh flavor. Like a connoisseur seeking a new spice, The Divine's enormous metaphysical maw grew into what could be roughly approximated to a sneer. For him, an untouched world was like finding Saffron for the first time.

This world was not wholly innocent, no mortal world was.

Not anymore at least.

Like many worlds this one was rife with bloodshed, though recent bloodshed was sparse. Peacetimes? Likely, but not definitely. The Divine recalls Cold Wars on an infinite number of worlds and it licked its chops ravenously. Passive aggression only requires a shove to become true hatred, a revolting combination of pent up anger and loathing. It was ripe for the picking, and unfortunate for the Guardians of that world, The Divine was ready to harvest.

Extending its influence above itself once more. So recent? Why have I been so restless? Do I hunger more? Maybe. Or is it that there are so many more worlds to feast on? Perhaps. Infinite possibilities drive my ravenous nature, I must feed and I seek nourishment directly.

Yes, directly. Give me food, I need food. Hunger, a meaningful concept to one so driven by it.

Through the infinite microscopic portals that he drew his power through, The Divine forced his will through an opening so infinitesimally small that even under an electron microscope it wouldn't be visible. His will threw the veil aside bodily, like a curtain being split apart by a murderer's knife. His planetary visage grew upon the morning sky of Corban's homeworld, The Divine's rift tore the sky apart and tumultuous winds whipped at the cloud cover. The sky itself spread wide to reveal an abominable sight upon the unknowing people of Corban's world.

From the titanic planet's surface, a monstrous storm shot forth, like a black hurricane in space. Blotting out the morning rays with a disgusting reddish black haze of death. Descending from the cloud was an enormous body, greater than any beast. No whale or saurian compared to its colossal size, for it was miles long. Its lengthy body writhing through the air, a great serpent of destruction plummeting to the Earth below. Flames licked around its body, and to all those unfortunate witnesses below they saw death in its purest form. A goliath of terrible proportion and visage. Its horror unbearable as its bulk collided with the ground, its speed suddenly halting just before it reached the Earth.

A pressure wave erupted from below its body and the winds blew vehicle and building back, toppling lesser buildings and crushing people inside of their mode of transport. (Don't know if car or carriage, so vehicle will have to suffice.) Humans were blown aside like petals from dandelions in the breeze, their bodies crumpling on impact with structures harder than themselves. A few unfortunate souls struck corners and bent around them. Their spines snapping and bodies going limp. These souls so unlucky were paralyzed, terrified, agonized, but alive.

From the crown of the gigantic beast of burden strode a giant of a scale significantly smaller, only measuring two men high. Its thorny body descending gently upon the trodden and windswept earth, in total opposition to the great serpent. Its elegance and horror were equal in proportion as it moved into the nearest center of living. Not large to him, obviously, though to a human it would have been a rather cosmopolitan area. Always a fitting setting, to see the accomplishments that they've worked so hard for torn asunder in his wake. Leaving the rich in agony of their monetary loss, the moderate in depression for their property loss, and the families in grief for their loved ones lost.

The Baron had arrived on Corban's world, relatively ignorant of those who might be called Guardians. Though soldiers would soon come, The Baron was not concerned with the normal folk. He was here to stir the pot, to whip his soup into proper position before taking a bowl for dinner. Food metaphors, clever. Or are they simile? Semantics.

Through the screaming crowds he strode with an unholy confidence, the goliath beast behind him screeching impiously as it rose to its full height and rocketed back towards the sky. Off to cause mayhem elsewhere on this world, for The Baron would not need its assistance. It reached a tower, rather tall, approximately the tallest in this city. He rocketed upwards to the peak and spoke with an otherworldly echo, sound coming toward him rather than away. "Welcome me, small ones, for I have come to feast!" Its massive baritone rumbled every window and ear canal within ten miles. An impossibly loud noise that carried for an even more impossible distance, The Baron has arrived.

From within the flames and debris stood a single dark robed figure. His every step seemed to part and snuff the flares like an overgrown candle. Milky crimson pupils framed by fringes of chocolate brown hair examined what remained of Cellin City, capital of Escaria. His home. There was no military response, for their world did not require one so long as Corellian, as he was known here, was alive. For as long as he lived, they merely need place him between the Gate and an invader of any size or proportion, and none would get through. It would appear his absence was the loose clause in the contract that allowed this to happen. He blamed hinself, since at the time he was halfway across the universe trapped in a reality marble.

But no more. A spectral voice called out not to him, but his Guardian Edge that sat comfortably sheathed at his waist. A power plumed within them both that granted the impetus required to fuel a single teleportation that autopiloted them home.

A single snap of his finger triggered pocket waves of cerulean blue that expelled the lingering flames, dropping the temperature back to a cozy 76 degrees. In the same moment he located his summoner. He wasn't sure how developed the creature was, but he could assume it was not totally atavistic since it was capable of communication on at least some level. As for his steed?

"Dimensional Lockdown." He stomped his foot and a sine wave flickered beneath him once. To the mundane eye not a single blade of grass seemed to be disturbed. On the abstract and coterminous planes it was a fucilade of colors and warped space. It acted as a connector instead of the usual signal jammer, tying the planes together in a single location. This disallowed dimensional travel from within and without a particular area like condensing all of the lanes of a road into one. It's stigma stuck, too. Any creature within the massive AOE would be confined to this setting.... or wherever it happened to be at the time of its activation. Such as the heavens. Neither he or his steed would be making any returns trips to Escaria this day should they leave. And make no mistake, they were leaving one way or another.

-This may be it for me Ishtalle. Should I fail, handle my final affairs. Pass on the Core to Gwyn.-

~By my blade, you will not fail. We will not fail. We cannot fail, if we are together.~

Empowered by her words, he drew his Guardian Edge katana with his right hand, entering a traditional dueling stance. Her eutactic mirror-like edge was held parallel to his right ear lobe, gripped with both graphene gauntleted hands. He took a deep breath as he felt the long-sleeping Nexus Core power on from within him. The wind whipped ferociously about him. Power welled as though it came from a fountain, and pure mana precipitated from his eyes in blue streaks. He felt powerful. More so than he had in ages, but it was not inebriating. One whom was used to holding power was not overcome by it. His eyes would now meet with the creature. The onus of the first move was generally not on a guardians shoulders by dint of their profession.

The onus was upon the Baron.

With no large scale response, and the only reaction to the arrival of The Baron was screaming in fear, a slight tinge of disappointment bubbled deep in the core of the planetary Divine. Normal people would mount an armed response, and normalcy was what kept Wrath going. Fear and loathing are normal emotions, with a shove in one direction they become hatred and violence.

But no, only a few souls dared to look upon him with contempt. None moreso than one particular man who spoke distant words of dimensions. What did a mortal know of dimension? Obviously not much. How could he? It's not like their mind can comprehend higher dimensional knowledge.

But suddenly, the unthinkable happened. No, literally unthinkable. As the bubble looped over the world The Baron stood upon and The Wanderer roared over, a line was cut. A line that had never been cut before.

The connection was severed, and two vicious howls echoed across the world of Corban. One from the Wanderer who began crumbling instantly, its body required far too much energy to function properly. It thrashed and wailed as it lost its ability to fly, slamming to the ground with enough force to level a city. Wherever it landed was no more, a crater formed beneath its bulk as it squealed in agony. Like a million screeching swine it thrashed itself into oblivion in a grave that it had dug itself. Metal flakes of skin shunted off of a much bulkier skeletal structure until the goliath was no more.

But The Baron, yes it still stood atop the tower.

Glaring down at Corban from its advantageous position, its skin cracked slightly. Almost like leather that had dried out in the desert sun, its skin folded and wrinkled but did not burst so violently as The Wanderer. Instead, its visage filled with malicious intent. If you can imagine a being whose face is almost entirely mouth curling into a half-scowl half-sneer. Its teeth tore away from its lips as they parted, the skin flaked off, exposing the dark red gums and silver toned teeth to the air. Bloodless wounds formed all across its mouth, the weakest of his lips fell away with loud and heavy thumps.

Beyond the veil formed by Corban and his strange magics, the Divine wondered how a Baron functioned away from the body. It hadn't once happened before, and it had caught Wrath off guard. This was certainly an upstart, and while he could concievably re-open the doorway in a narrow window of time. Reconnect to his Baron and return to the normalcy of every day, he would instead wait and record what happened after a period of time.

It might help him to improve the functionality of his Shards.

As we return our perspective to The Baron, it watched with an almost visible hatred oozing from its every orifice. It watched as energy flowed from the warrior below, and his body pulsed with agony. Pain was beyond a Shard, but to a Wayward Fragment, that seems not to be the case. Its body clenched and tensed as it loomed, like an empty stomach that demanded food or threatened death.

In its pain, its rage, its agony, it gained a certain clarity. It saw a world wholly separate from its host, and it knew that it could force them to feed it. The Baron, no, Baron. Just Baron.

Baron shifted its weight forward and let its right leg grip the side of the building. Its left leg slid down the wall and his whole body lurched towards the ground. Though its weight was colossal, it clung to the wall like a spider. It descended rapidly, decimating the structure of the building, fragments of concrete were launched from its feet as it flew down. It took a few moments before it reached the bottom with a crash and an explosion of debris, sending shards of glass and concrete in every direction. A cloud of dust rose around the giant's body, and it was visibly obscured for a moment. As the dust settled, a new cloud had formed around Baron's form.

A black and red cloud that seemed to screech the same as twisted and scraping metal. It cloaked but didn't totally blind his image from the warrior, it danced across his body and chewed through the cloth that draped around his body, the cloud tore it away from his shoulder and it drooped down between its legs. Like a loincloth, it hung there as the only form of clothing on the great beast.

More flesh had torn away from the goliath, and it had formed mirrored patterns across its shoulders and torso. Lighter red flesh beneath the blackish red exterior, resembling tribal tattoos of some sort. It spoke for the first time since its mind had formed on its own, remnants of Wrath were there but this was not Wrath.

For the first time, Baron spoke its own will.

A voice as grating as gravel and deep as the ocean emanated from the mouth of the abominable titan, malice and contempt in every word. "You, boy. You've given me freedom, no matter how temporary. I thank you for this, and in return, I shall give you the greatest gift I may afford."

It lunged forward like an animal, its forelimbs extended forward and to the ground to catch itself as it moved into a second lunge, closing the distance between them at a considerable pace. Stopping just short of the warrior, it finished its vocal thought. "A quick death."