[@Absolis][@Savato][@Wraithblade6][@Flamelord] It appeared that Malden's statements in regard to territory ownership had been completely ignored, as the Alliance representative made their own list of demands known. It appeared everyone had come with demands. Sighing, Maldus resigned himself to them. Eto was ignored completely, as her pointless blabbering served only to distract from real issues. "While I am certain that some limited level of technological trade can be established, I severely doubt any would agree to such a... comprehensive agreement. Perhaps a less extreme version could be applied, and individual items of scientific knowledge be shared and exchanged for one another. As for your requirement for... embassies..." he used the more familiar term, attempting to steer the conversation away from the ludicrous extremes stated by the Alliance without offending them "I'm certain that such an agreement would be beneficial for all. But instead of an installation in populated areas, such an embassy should be placed in the capital of the respective factions. The Imperium would be most interested in-" Whatever the Imperium was interested in would have to wait, as Eto received the mystery signal, and the equally mysterious storm clouds began to appear outside. Malden turned and stared, interrupted mid-sentence, as the truly immense ship slowly emerged from an equally titanic portal in the sky. This was a ship the scale of which even the Imperium could not equally match, despite their overall fondness for ridiculously oversized weaponry. Perhaps only the personal vessels of the Primarchs, or the Rock, the modified asteroid which served as the mobile base of the Dark Angels, could approach it. But perhaps even more stunning was the fact that the Envisioning One, the mysterious leader of the Dark Outliners, was moments from making his own appearance. Of course, wonder soon gave place to dread, as Maldus felt a sudden wave of heat wrap around him from behind. There stood Kaldor Draigo, Supreme Grand Master of the Grey Knights, Military Commander of the New Imperium. He glared at the ship in the distance, as his eyes were wreathed in divine flame. The size of the ship did not impress him, neither did the presence of the Envisioning One. Such petty things had lost their charm hundreds of years ago. For all he saw was a breach of the rules he had put into place. If this was not a direct attempt at a military coup, then this was a show of blatant disrespect not for him, but for the Imperium of Man, and the words of the Emperor himself. This was a blasphemy that could not be allowed, and could not be forgiven. It appeared the Outliners had pursued their hubris too far, and believed themselves to be above the laws and rules applied by other factions. There was no tangible sign, aside from the flickering flames in his eyes, that Kaldor had called upon his full power. But anyone in the room could sense the difference, feel it in every bone in their body. His Presence was like that of a titan, an almost tangible force that filled the room, pressing against the minds and hearts of those present, a force that would strike terror into the hearts of lesser men and nearly sent Maldus crying to the floor. To bring such immense forces to bear during a peaceful meet, to purposefully and arrogantly brush aside the limitations to their forces.... this was an act of war. And if it had not been such a powerful and dangerous faction, if there had not been a smidgen of common sense holding back his zealous fury, he would have gladly torn them to shreds on the spot, and brought their leader to it's knees (assuming it HAD knees). "You have violated the laws of this meet, and disrespected the terms and conditions applied by the Emperor of Man." Slowly, the knight drew his sword. Titansword was a massive blade, a Nemesis pattern Force Sword, one of the most lethal weapons produced by the Imperium. It would slice through forcefields and superheavy armour with the same ease, augmented both by it's particle-annihilated field, and the focused psionic energy running across it's edge like white flame. "In this time of peace you show your true colours as xenos filth. If it is your intention to start a war, then I will gladly strike the first blow. But if you wish to maintain the peace you have come so close to shattering, then step back into your ship, or I will be forced to show you the physical form of the Emperor's law." Perhaps, the present Outliner forces would be able to defeat Kaldor Draigo. If the other factions worked with them, they would most certainly be able to slay him. But from his stance alone it was clear that he would take an army to merely challenge, let alone best. There was a reason the Imperium had sent but a single warrior. They had needed but one, for he was an army in and of himself. Of course, those factions present would have only a limited time to react. For Kaldor was not the only force that had been triggered by the arrival of the enigmatic Outliner leader. ----------------------------------------------------- The sleeper opened his eyes. A million upon a million tiny mechanisms, tiny thoughts, flowed through the electromagnetic and telepathic spectrum, a field of information crossing the world in a billionth of a second. A fracture in space and time, a discharge of energy of noticeable proportions. A traveller had come once more through the hazy veil, and one who had been noticed. The sleeper stood, the motion meaningless to the being, as were all such concepts of form. But the time was ascertained. The commands were writ in stone, granted to it by a being beyond even it's comprehension. A plan was unfolding of a magnitude even it was only partially capable of realizing, but it knew it's part, it knew the role it would play. And it would play it, for that was it's calling, it's destiny. It was the reason for it's existence, for all the meaningless and pointless struggles of life before the master. And the end of them all. It appeared the pieces were in place, and the stage was set. It was time to play. All who lived on the world at the time might notice it, might feel it. Many would not be aware that they had noticed anything at all, discarding the strange tingling discomfort as a mere figment of their imaginations. Others would know that they had indeed noticed something, but wouldn't be able to comprehend what it was. A change, certainly, but one beyond their capability for comprehension. A shift in the taste of the air, in the feel of the sunlight, a shift in the basic logic that defined reality as they knew it. A break in the logical continuity from which all of creation and knowledge derived, an exception to the most basic rule. A moment lost in time and space, emerging from an endless rest. The beginning of the end, the end of the beginning, the primal knowledge in all that exists and all that may exist that the vessel they inhabited had been tilted, touched. Like the tiny figure inside a snowglobe attempting to understand the finger that had prodded the walls it was bound by, tilting it's world ever so slightly. Once before this world had been cleansed, the filth rinsed off so that it might ring anew. But new dirt had accumulated, creeping from every twisted corridor of the multiversal infestation to set up nest in this once pristine sanctuary. And thus once more the sleeper was called to duty, the duty it had always felt but never truly known. Once more it would set out, and all would know the true meaning of despair. Once more, it would cleanse this world of the filth that was life, and it would prove it's worth to oblivion. ---------------------------------------- [@Supertinyking] Alarms blared as red lights flashed, the droning sound awakening the tired scientist. Readings went wild as a computer in a locked room exploded violently, showering the sensitive equipment around it with sparks and tiny fragments of superheated debris. A bank of supercomputers ran a thousand calculations and hit a thousand logical errors, as the very lighting began to fritz. A strange purple glow surrounded the outermost labs, as information cycled through various stages of nonexistence. The bell was ringing, but none knew for whom it rang. And Robertson would be left with more questions than ever, as slowly the turmoil died down, and once more reality returned to it's natural state... mostly.