- Cannon Fodder
- Posts: 481
- Joined: Thu Jul 23, 2009 9:29 pm
- Location: Wandering through Mirial's Rock...
Grumbling to himself, the figure stalked through the halls of the Oracle's Shrine, heading towards the central fane. As was customary during periods of downtime, the unusual, gloss-black 'wall' that was the physical presence of the Oracle was blank. It did not stay blank for long. A soft buzzing noise filled the room as the Oracle, or rather, O.R.A.C.L.E., roused itself from rest.
**Greetings, Scribonius,** it said in its oddly flat voice, the sound seemingly coming from nowhere and everywhere in the room at once.
“I seem to recall asking you not to call me that,” Scribonius the Seer said in a bitter tone.
**Yes, Agent S, my apologies.**
“I have delivered the last of the Gate scrolls to the various tribal heads and told them to use them in the next twelve hours. Some of them were … reluctant,” Scribonius said sourly.
**Creator, I do not understand why we need to save these creatures.**
“I have asked you not to call me that, either. I did not so much create you as add a couple of parts to your existing electronics that allowed you to come into existance.”
“As to why we are saving these creatures, suffice to say I and my ilk have a use for some of these beings. Keep in mind that the Gate spells will transport them through space and time. Some of the tribes leaving Julian will wind up becoming their own distant ancestors.”
**Creator … Apologies, I mis-spoke. Agent S, I think I understand, but I do not comprehend your place in all of this. You act and treat yourself like a normal Legonian, but your abilities resemble those of beings recorded in my database as Quantumsurfers.**
Prior to this being said, Scribonius had been tinkering with various objects in the Oracle's Fane. But the second the word Quantumsurfer was spoken aloud, he spun in place and snarled out the words to a spell. For those outside the Fane, nothing seemed to happen, but inside the Fane it appeared like those outside were frozen in place, unmoving. “O.R.A.C.L.E., never say that word in my presence again.”
**Understood, Agent S. May I inquire as to why?**
Acting oddly nervous, Scribonius glanced around the room to make sure nobody was listening in. “Qua … Those beings, ahem, are not exactly welcome in many places around the multiverse. While many prefer to work openly, some of us … Er, them, prefer to stay hidden within society, working behind the scenes to enact things that must happen. There are those that would hunt others for various reasons.” Calming himself and satisfied nobody was lurking in the area, he sighed and nodded once. “But you are not wrong.”
**I see. Agent S, my calculations predict that the Negaverse Portal will hit critical mass sometime in the next twenty to forty hours.**
“Sounds about right.”
**The Magiocratic Oversight Jurists (the OFFICIAL name of the Menagerie of Julian's command structure) will likely enact Exterminatus upon this planet when that happens.**
Pulling a watch from one pocket, Scribonius glanced at it and shook his head. “They will do that in twenty-three hours and thirty-seven minutes, precisely,” he said bluntly. “The Brootalz have returned to this galactic region and will force their hands. They have protocols in place for this event. This is why I had you create the Gate scrolls I handed out to the various tribes and groups.
**I see. Agent S, what will become of me?**
“Agents L and M will be here about six hours before Exterminatus is enacted. You will have them take your central core through a Gate that I will open in the wall of your Fane before I leave.” Sighing sadly, Scribonius rested a hand on the gloss black screen and rubbed it gently. “I am sorry to have to send you out into the multiverse like this, but it is necessary. You will have a role to play in future events, and become a multiversal power in your own right.”
“Once they have deposited your core into your new shell, Agents L and M will have to leave you, but you will not be alone. I will stop in from time to time to see how you are getting on, and you will have your own minions. I think you will find plenty to occupy your time.”
**Thank you, Agent S.**
“Meanwhile, I have my work set out for me. I'll be spending some time popping from group to group, helping them get settled in to their new homes. But first,” he added softly, “I need to retrieve something important.”
Stepping into the middle of the chamber, he studied the mosaic tiles on the floor, then leaned down. Carefully but quickly, he tapped at the tiles with one hand. At first, nothing happened. But after the fifth tap, the tiles he touched began to glow as a security passcode was accepted by whatever device the mosaic hid. When he was done, Scribonius stepped back and waited a moment. The glow grew brighter, then faded, and a series of clicking sounds filled the room. With a soft hiss, a section of the floor rose up, revealing a force-field shrouded case that held a crystal-topped staff. Smiling to himself, Scribonius reached through the force field, the energy crackling about his hand, then collapsing completely as he gripped the staff tightly.
“I suppose I had better get used to carrying this around again,” he mused. Resting it against his shoulder, he nodded to O.R.A.C.L.E., and smiled. “I will open the Gate now and take my leave. Agents L and M will be here. If I do not speak with you for a while, good luck.”
**Thank you, Agent S. Good luck in your own endeavors.**