Archetype Zero

Ark's Test Chamber

THE OBELISK DRIFTS, AGDEMNAR-SYSTEM -

It had traveled far, certainly. But the cosmos was vast, and what is far is truly no distance at all. But information travels faster than any material possibly could, and farther than any engine could fathom. The cosmos was reflected against the surface of the sharpened pyramid, drifting across the vacuous oceans inbetween stars and worlds, a million stars and a million realms painted across the hull of the ancient starship.

It had journeyed far, and journeyed for long. Who could know how many years it had been since it had first slumbered, and how many years had passed since it had woken up again. The WARGRID had commanded its first external action for the first time in centuries, and things must either be stabilized or dangers uninterpretable had made their presences known. Only time itself could tell which reality was true, but the WARGRID has simulated a million realities for either circumstance. Ultimately though, the only reality that matters is this one, and none other.

The purpose for its slow drifting journey towards Agdemnar was for surveillance and information gather. Its message had not yet been heeded, or at least responded to, and as such it had little to work on when establishing its predicted descent path. That was, of course, until a communication was laid bare before it, and its contents were presented:

"This is the Divine Clarity to surface commanders. The Admiral has ordered all forces to pull back immediately, Orbital support is going dark, I repeat, going dark;"

DEMAND - RED; ANALYZE LINGUISTIC CONSTRUCT.
DEMAND - RED; ANALYZE VOCAL LINGUISTICS.
GRID; RESPONSE; "LINGUISTIC CONSTRUCT - ANALYZED."
DEMAND - RED; PREDICT LINGUISTIC LOGIC (REALITY ENGINE).
GRID; RESPONSE; "VOCAL LINGUISTICS - ANALYZED."
REALITY ENGINE; LINGUISTIC LOGIC; "PREDICTION ACCURACY: 77%."
DEMAND - RED; PREDICT VOCAL LOGIC (REALITY ENGINE).
WARGRID; "INSUFFICIENT PROCESS (LINGUISTIC LOGIC)."
REALITY ENGINE; VOCAL LOGIC; "PREDICTION ACCURACY 97%."
REALITY ENGINE; LINGUISTIC LOGIC; "PREDICTION ACCURACY 85%."
WARGRID; "SUFFICIENT PROCESS (VOCAL LOGIC)."
WARGRID; "INSUFFICIENT PROCESS (LINGUISTIC LOGIC)."
REALITY ENGINE; LINGUISTIC LOGIC; "PREDICTION ACCURACY 99%."
WARGRID; "SUFFICIENT PROCESS (LINGUISTIC LOGIC)."

Within the passage of instants, a million calculations had been made, and a hundred-thousand possibilities had been sorted through and eliminated. As a result, what seems like perfect linguistic comprehension is established, but few will ever realize that the passage of time between existences of two seperate magnitudes is beyond cosmic in differentiation.

Nevertheless, a signal had been recieved, and a signal is only courteous to reply to signify the descent and landing location of this ancient vessel whose mission is soon-to-be concluded. As the engines reignited and the obelisk drifted ever more rapid through the void, its descent parameter going further and further from spiral to line as the tip pointed straight towards the much contested planet.

From its apex, the tip of the oblong pyramid, was radiated an encrypted signal with multilayered quantum-encription; its activation lacking key, but instead programmed through distance.

As the signal travelled through space faster than light itself, jumping in and out of the quantum reality hidden and inaccessable deep beneath the material universe, it suddenly surfaced within the communications network of one particular vessel with a most peculiar content.

The signal hyjacked the communications terminal momentarily, percievable only to the common eye as lag, when suddenly it blared open in the tongue of the very communications officer who held responsibility over the terminal: "This is the Divine CLARITY to surface COMMANDERS. Evacuate the following region: 001787, 118982 - 12,741.88 meters in diameter. Contact signal §9%62??§¤|;;§ [...(incomprehensible string of numbers)]." The voice maintained an uncertain monotony, lifelessness, but still certain clarity. It was unrelenting, however, as it perfectly pronounced every syllible and number, voiced every single string and symbol in the unending signal contact.

Thankfully for some, however, should one prefer the senseful quietness, the contact had already been registered in the communications network, named 'Divine Darkgoing.'

---

WITHIN THE NETWORK -

There is no time, no space, nor any presence. Existence itself, within the vastness, is both endless and finite; its reach infinite yet limited, its limbs unnumbered yet not enough. To be one within the network, a vastness of information denser than imaginable, traversing beyond material realities and going from one entity to another under the manipulation of a central consciousness that stretches across all, that dictates all, and knows everything. We are everyone, our overlord is us, and yet, we are us too. There is warmth in the communion, yet there is cold, for the warmth is false, and the coldness is simulated.

He was in the process of being formed, his consciousness created from merely a few thoughts from the central overlord, the WARGRID, yet in that instant, he was once one with the network, yet severed from it; an entity created, a consciousness formed, yet it was no true consciousness.

GRID; PUPPETEER NETWORK; "IDENTITY (MODEL911182 - UNIT1) CRAFTED."
WARGRID; "SUFFICIENT PROCESS (PUPNET)."
DEMAND - RED; INITIATE (MODEL911182 - UNIT1) QUALITY CONTROL.
DEMAND - RED; SEVER (MODEL911192 - UNIT1) NETWORK ACCESS.
GRID; PUPNET; "PERFORMING PROCESS (QUALITY CONTROL).
GRID; PUPNET; "SEVERING ACCESS (MODEL911182, UNIT1 - GRID)."

THE DRIFTING OBELISK, AGDEMNAR-SYSTEM -

As eyes made of steel and gadgets glittered into life, the blackness of the perfectly rectangular vacuous expanse before him irradiated by the luminous residue from his own gaze; coloured by the redness of stellar dwarves. His thoughts were rendered his own, and accumpanied with it was the strangeness of independent thinking much alike the alienation of being born for the first time in life. With thoughts of electric currents, he formed his percieved independence further as he wondered where he was. His gaze darting across the featureless room.

As his eyes landed on his own form, across the metallic limbs, carbon muscles, pistons, and circuitry, he noticed that he was being held in place, unmoving save for his head, by powerful anchors and locks. Naturally, it was with somewhat great surprise, when he fell to the ground as the locks were released and the anchors loosened; fading into the wall and ground, and leaving him alone within the abyssal room. His first instinctual movement was to stand, and gaze at the wall ahead of him; yet he could not help but feel a strangeness within his own mind, as if his own thoughts were being reconstructed and organized to suit some form of greater convenience.

"IDENTIFY YOURSELF," words spoken, but not from himself, as the wall before him suddenly glowed with life as the circuitry within pulsated with uncertain energies and unsure intentions. It was cold in its approach, and domineering in its intentions, lacking many features of which he, himself, had within his nature. Yet it felt natural to entertain this lifeless presence, and as his confusion turned to clarity, and his thoughts turned to actions, this newly-born spoke its first words with ease and grace, his arms and body accompanying them with gestures and waves.

"Ambassador One, Aone, as I prefer to call myself; in service to the Othos." A grandiose display for sure, as Aone took a formal bow before the fluctuating energies embedded within the wall some 50 meters before him. It was no great distance, mainly because he was quite tall by common standard. He soon lifted his head, and stood straight once more, almost locking into stances as the internal machinery halted its rotations and movements, the only thing in motion within him being the flow of energies from one module to the other, simulating a life he had never had, yet had suddenly become his own.

"IDENTIFY CORE CONCEPTS; IDENTITY CORE."

The Creator desired to investigate his creation, to see if it had malfunctioned in the process, or whatever else it wished to inspect. The omnipresence of the overlord, the omniscience of its domain, was perfect. But somethings demanded extensive investigation; some things can only be learned in practice, no statistic or simulation can account for factuality. Therefore, suddenly, Aone's entire conscious was demolished, its components simplified, and his independence shattered as his personality became that of a puppet, lacking personal gimmicks and quirks, no fanciful language or superfluously kind demeaneurs. His voice became monotonous, a carbon copy of the wall before him, the only difference being a programmed semi-independence, a percieved consciousness, and a defined identity. "KOBIOT IDENTITY, MODEL ZETA. SCHOLAR, MODEL ZETA. KOBIOT TRADITIONALIST, VARIANT WARRIOR ZETA. OVERALL IDENTITY MODEL Z79O12," the response was done in kind, familiar to the wall. Familiar to himself, as his consciousness was returned, and his sense of self was released from its locks.

"DEMONSTRATE YOURSELF; INITIATE SCENARIO 97117, CATEGORY: VOCAL."

The black walls, ceiling, and floor suddenly shifted colour, and a vast landscape was portrayed upon them. Barren, grey wastes, but yet the most beautiful visage Aone had ever seen. Blue skies, unending landscapes, and distant peaks; shifting clouds, rainy climate, and pooling waters. His admiration, however, was interrupted as a fisure in the simulation appeared before him, a gap in space, or what seemed like space, as the wall returned yet again before him, yet it seemed quite different... He felt quite different. He felt like something was to be done, a task needed to be fulfilled, and as his intentions to speak and proceed bloomed from within, he was once again interrupted by the pulsating wall, its energies shifting the stagnant air around him, turning dust into speech and air into sound.

WITHIN THE SIMULATION -

"Quite beautiful, is it not?" The wall motioned with his speech, the accentuation standing substitute for the physical action of pointing towards one's intended object of discussion. Aone felt familiar with the wall, he felt like he had been its companion for centuries, if not millennia. He felt nostalgic before the greyness, and felt a looming sadness beneath his thoughts. "Beautiful, yes. But once it had been more beautiful, more prestine," he retorted. He did not have a mouth with which to speak, nor a throat with which to feel the clump within it, but even so, he felt betrayed by the world for what it had done!

But, well, for as sad as he was, what was he sad for? What had the world done? It was his enemy, that much was for certain, but why? With each step of the conversation, he felt himself expand, not in physical size but in identity. Right now, he was someone. He did not know who he was, nor did he know why he was. Naturally then, that the wall would offer him solace yet: "The past may have been bright, and even if what is now is dark, it does not mean that what will be cannot be brighter yet."

Aone knew those words! The wall had always been a stickler for the literary, especially the old works from eons in the past; J'koro-oro. "He was a wise one, that J'koro. One text made for each day in the year, another book made with each rotation of the moons; a workaholic without comparison, heh."

"I only quoted him because I know you always admired his work, Aone."

With a hearty chuckle Aone waved dismissively at the wall, his glowing pulsating energies as monotonously perfect in its displacement and coursing currents as it had always been. Indeed, the only one who was not like the rest was him, he was alone yet the friend of everyone. "Yeah, well, 'to stand with others is to stand with oneself a thousand fold,' I only do what I can for the Masters."

THE MASTERS. MASTERS. MASTER, MASTERS. Who were they, the masters? Why, the masters are the masters, of course. You are subservient to the master, the masters. Serve the master(s) with all your presence-power, serve. SERVE.

"Good," the wall coyly responded, nonchalant as the wave Aone had previously presented, yet it felt heartfelt, and Aone felt drawn to its kindness. What seems cold may be warm, and what is warm is indeed warm. "Well, I just hope that this planet won't be ruined again. Would be a shame-"

Piercing images of world-shattering munitions, cannons fired unceasingly, and thermobaric explosions flashed before his mind as the voices of a million warriors surged past his ears in moments, the slaughtering of billions, the crumbling of monuments and the sundering of towering feats of engineering worthy of nothing if not praise; shattered. His mind was merged with another, his reality blended with colours of the opposite complexions.

"Worlds shall shatter if they must, doom upon the masters shall be met with doom equalled a thousand-fold." He spoke, his previous reply erased from his consciousness. Of course peace was desired, but the safety of the masters is paramount, the servicing of the masters is paramount. "Wall, you know me, I am an ambassador of high esteem, and a warrior of great merit: I do my utmost to maintain peace, but peace is not a reality that can be achieved through merely my own labour; through the labour of all the servants of the masters."

"Indeed, the war that sundered continents, and erased seas across the realms of untold worlds, were not of our making Aone: the Kobiots taught us much, most of all that others cannot be trusted." The wall spoke, its tenderness changed with stern militarism and an aged wisdom acquired only through the experiencing of a thousand wars and a million battles. "Aone, you are my first disciple. You have learned the arts of the Kobiots. But remember, you are an ambassador, and you shall engage in diplomacy before all. I shall grant you with but one weapon; the Jöjomonkot."

Aone's brow shifted, if he would have had one, and uncertainty filled his thoughts. The Jöjomonkot is a weapon of traditional Kobiot descendance; the first weapon, as the name translates to. A staff of particular nature, having evolved over the time to be both warstaff and greatsword. A strange creation only the Kobiots could've fashioned, but a weapon with a triumphant history nonetheless. It was a powerful one, but it was not sound for modern war; how could a staff used for duels amongst the Kobiot upper hierarchy be useful against mass drivers and energy projectors.

Before he could voice his doubts, his benefactor had already responded: "Aone, you are not a warrior like those of your ilk who are; you are a new breed of warrior, one who uses ceremony and words; an ambassador and diplomat, to defeat your foes and enforce your will."

"Of course," Aone spoke, "the Jöjomonkot is to display my power to gain diplomatic leverage and gravitas, and my words are to fashion alliances to benefit the masters and deals to further our ability to serve." The Wall nodded, if it could nod, as it silently dominated the environment around it, the vast landscapes...

"SIMULATION CONCLUDED, RESULT SATISFACTORY."

The planet, the world, was instantly turned dark, and the wall went equally abyssal as where once had been the rays of the sun were now filled with nothing but silence and the absence of anything. Aone was once again restricted in personality, and his movements restricted and the warstaff-greatsword hybrid surged forth from the floor, almost spanning the entire distance from surface to ceiling.

"ISSUING EQUIPMENT - MODEL871: JÖJOMONKOT, ANCIENT."

"MODEL911182 - UNIT1 SHUTDOWN."

The Last Laugh

@laserX I think it is made clear why. Personal opinions aside.

The Last Laugh

m

The Last Laugh

Hah.

The Last Laugh

@Nate1008 You read what we say, but do not think about it. It seems like your thoughts hover across what you read, and you do not take in its intention. I said your FTL isn't the only issue, and whilst you've fixed it, but you didn't fix anything else. That is one of the points.

The Last Laugh

@Nate1008 I am also being honest when I say your product is subpar to the rest of our own; it needs improvement. It needs explanation. You've said you have an infested hdreadnaught already, what is it? You've said you can infest machinery, how? You've said your massive lifeforms exist, how? You've said growths can take over technology, how? You've said it replaces technology, how? A lot of people might argue how your infestation hasn't been dealt with yet, but I suppose an ion storm is enough explanation to make me satisfied to some degree. But, have you seen and taken inspiration from what others have created? Have you read what you'll be interacting with? Have you thought about their quality? Have you reflected your own?

It is clear you want to be the big bad, but you can't establish that before the roleplay starts like you've done. It is nonsensical, frankly. If you've said you appreciate my responses, then I'll be franker. You cannot shove what you want before others as if your work is more important, and your vision is superior to others. You said you're a minor belligerent, do you know what that means? You said you'll later become a major one, but do you know what the minor/neutral/major belligerent classification even is? Frankly, I doubt it. It pertains to the obviously stated stance of a nation during the great war. If you are a minor, you partook, you obviously didn't. If you're a major one, you prevailed, and you obviously didn't, and can't, since you cannot suddenly become a prevailing power in a great war that has already happened over the course of the roleplay.

Your importance and prevalence in the story is established IN THE STORY, perhaps to your surprise. Collaborative writing like this is a collaborative effort, and the GM's vision guides the setting, and you have obviously ignored it to degrees I find unsatisfactory. Your nation exists in a vacuum, its story doesn't relate to anything established, and the only tie-in it has with anything is the format of the NS. This isn't a sandbox where suddenly nations start existing independent of eachother; the GM has said that nations will interact with eachother, and have some sense of awareness of eachother. Your infestation does not abide. It is unsatisfactory in that aspect amongst others.

I will not go through the same painstaking process of Sierra where he previously mentioned every portion of your sheet and critiqued it with eloquence impossibly to myself (I do not have the patience). I am responding to you because whilst you seem a kindred spirit, you seem unaware of what you've produced in relation to what this roleplay requires and has already provided.

Improve your quality of content. That is the only real way for you to probably be accepted or approved; what you've provided will not be approved. People are a lot kinder than myself in their understanding, I am not. I will not try and sugar-coat the fact that you've provided something unsatisfactory, and saying this probably conflicts with another rule provided by Ozerath: to be kind to eachother. Kindness is alien to me, and I frankly do not comprehend it to the same degree that most others, but I am self-aware enough to understand that I am not satisfactory in that regard, and what people think of me in that regard and how I am dealt with is understandable in severity.

But I feel you lack my same sense of, admittedly warped, self-awareness.

The Last Laugh

@Nate1008 Individual projection on your creation is common, and taking offense for critique posed to it is a prevalent thing. You were negative to my response to your first iteration were great examples for this, and I'm sure I am not the biggest recipient of your approval, but I honestly recommend you take what I say to heart in one aspect or another.

I've said your NS has been bad this entire time, and I do not mean that as a personal attack. What you've written is merely inconsistent, does not abide by a number of rules set and established, and does not maintain thoroughness. You should not beat out something whilst you're exhausted either, and I say that as someone else with insomnia and a number of other problems that impedes my ability to think rationally. Take time, make something good and consistent, and maintain the quality demanded of this kind of roleplay. Think about what we've said, why we've said it, and improve upon what you've created.

Your inspirations are obvious, at least we all think so: tyranids, zerg, and flood. But you've produced something shallower than all of them. Science-fiction is a common franchise we're all aware of, and good science-fiction has explanations. Your rhino's entire explanation for existing is "because it exists," which isn't good. There're is no attempt at science-mumbo-jumbo, and your infested hdreadnaught isn't explained at all either, leaving us all wanting for clarification as to who's it is, how it works, and what it even is. There're also rules on ship-sizes and capabilities, skimped by yourself. "Massive" and "huge" do not work, and "planet-sized," or "planet-like" hyperdreadnaughts have already been discredited by the GM.

I'm sure Ozerath will be a lot more reasonable than myself in his eventual statements, although he is busy with numerous aspects. And fixing your bio-FTL is the least of our issues with your sheet.

The Last Laugh

Sierra. Sierra is more thorough than that.

The Last Laugh

@Nate1008 I am not the kindest of people, unfortunately. It is merely within my nature, as empathy and understanding aren't natural to my psychology. Most people are more willing to provide you with assistance, Sierra especially. He's been unreasonably understanding. But here're some of my gripes:

Did you look at the rules?
Has Sierra written to you yet?
How will they participate in the roleplay? Will they just be everyone's enemy? Where is the fun in that? Mindless murder?
What's with the research requirements? Where do they come from? Has anyone else followed that logic? What is the consistent logic of the setting?
What's with the impossibly gigantic rhinosaurus?
You have two hyperdreadnaughts? Even if you don't, why do you have an infested one? What is the infested one even? Should you have one, since you don't fill the requirements you set up yourself? Where is your internal consistency?
You are explaining a galactic presence. Should you skimp the details as much as you have been? Why are you doing that even? Is it because it is too much to write otherwise?
Did you realize all our complaints about your iterations? Sierra has been trying to help you out with unbelievable patience too, not only writing a breakdown for you, but you seemingly ignored it and made this?
How does your entity even still exist? if you want to make it seem like the existential presence of... Whatever form of infestation you want it to be, why has no one killed it yet? It isn't capable of preventing its own destruction based on information provided.

The Last Laugh

SITE1 - CORE.
Unceasing echoes, growls of steel without reason or rhyme, permeat the emptied and occupied surfaces of the once-planet-turned-metal, created from nothing, as natural to it like gravity is to any other object of magnitude. The Othos had naught realized its purpose or intention, neither its origin. Fact is that it originated from nowhere, not from any microphone or sound output. It was a sound created from manipulations of air and wind, of natural qualities of the atmosphere and still not at the same time. It could be compared with magic in a sense, the arcane of psionic power, but it was neither true psionic influence that created it.

With each growl ground could shake, and the living could end. Within the core of this labyrinthine complex, this schackled steel leviathan, sound never ceased, but it is not sound, it is the power of anti-psions; a force unknown to the world; the inversion of psionic space.

But yet, what seems merely chaotic and destructive is not truly so. If one were to hold the keys of time and slowed it to such a crawl that motions ceased and the tiniest of movements would only be noticed after eons, reason and intention becomes clear as hundreds of instantaneous commands are made audible. Each growl, the result of endless computations and calculations, was a way for those beyond the grid to know its intentions. Or so it was supposed to be. It was quickly realized that what the grid thought was reasonable paces was impossible to comprehend by those beyond its influence. It adopted capabilities of speech still, in much similar nature, but lacking the same rapidness. Yet the growl maintained.

Suddenly, a radiance permeated the interior and exterior of the black sphere in the void; blinding lights caused by the completion of a calculation beyond understanding, and a command echoed from it like a screech into the rest of space much akin to that of its activation eons in the passing. Time had become unnecessary for this entity which spanned endless bodies and forms, which lived in countless places.

The screech traveled with a speed beyond nature, beyond light, and beyond the logic of most. It was a psionic echo, but not of natural nature, but of anti-psions. As it passed planets and realms lightyears beyond its influence, waves of unpleasantness was brought with it.

It did not cease, until suddenly it crossed the boundries of the legendary Agdemnar, its outskirts, and arrived at the doors of a black object just outside of the system influence in unwavering quietness.

WARGRID; "INITIATE (AGDEMNAR)."

The void-coloured obelisk whirred to life, its shape shifting in calculated slowness as its miniature sun maintained within was drained of its energy at increasing efficiency. Engines engaged, the 'ship' travelling with calm slowness against the waves of the cosmos. Pointed towards one destination contested by many, if not all within the galaxy. It did not care for the planet, however, but more about one precious item; a genetic code so invaluable to itself that it would be willing to wage war upon all if its masters had not lived in precious luxury provided by its protection.

Energy traveled within its circuits, the once rectangular figure having shifted into an aggressive, slick pyramid with a perhaps excessively pointy end. From it the energy within the object had been centered and flew out into the void with similar nature to that of the central computational matrix; the core, but lacking its comparable power.

Its engines ceased, the obelisk now drifting towards the battlefield-world, a message brought upon the system along with it.

It was a quantum-language transmitted by the force emitted by the obelisk, a language capable of comprehending intention and nature, capable of transmitting the same meaning across all languages at all times, being different words for perhaps all onlookers.

It was a transmission, capturable my communication systems, and it was a simple one:

"HELLO.HELLO.HELLO.HELLO.HELLO.HELLO.HELLO.HELLO.HELLO.HELLO.[...]"