CHAPTER 623: ATALAR

Collapse

Information flowed into the heart of Atalar’s being, delivered there from a myriad of sources. Each thread feeding it information was part of it, similar to a limb, though one separated from the main body. Atalar was very aware of its flaws, it was not life in the same way a biological one was. It lacked imagination; it could not act on a hunch or a feeling as it had none of those. It projected, it analyzed, but it could not know what it didn’t know. That left big holes in its thinking.

Its tendrils in the Knowledge Plane constantly gathered information, but navigating that Plane was impossible. Information it gathered was random. It could steer it somewhat, but ultimately it learned only what it stumbled on. On a grand scale, it meant that it could learn and navigate large events with great accuracy. It was the smaller things that were more random. It used its seekers as something like beacons in the Knowledge Plane. They were connected to Atalar, and allowed it to learn things around them. It was a good way to focus its search and information gathering.

It also left dark areas in its information gathering. Areas of the world where it had no spies, no seekers, it knew only what it randomly stumbled on.

One such place was the Triumphant Hive. Introducing spies into the Hive was impossible. To compensate for that weakness, it had fortified the border with the Hive. Preparing for the future invasion, as it knew the Hive would be a threat.

The only reason why it hadn’t invaded before was because it estimated the Sects as a higher threat. The Hive was more isolationist, its projection had shown that they would not involve themselves in any wars.

Somehow, Atalar was wrong. There was an element that had altered its projections. Something that had started happening a lot more often. Its projections were collapsing. Time-lines were changing rapidly.

Atalar didn’t care about land, it didn’t care about the territories it was losing as hordes of skreen spilled over. It had only one singular goal, and that goal was now becoming endangered.

It pulled a piece of its being and reached down to one of its Speakers. The being of flesh and blood was restrictive; experiencing the world through its body was… uncomfortable. It opened its eyes and looked at the heavily fortified territory, the former arrival zone had been turned into a death zone. And there, at the center of it was a massive ziggurat which housed the core of Atalar’s being. Pylons that pulsed with power and light were set in concentric circles all around it.

Atalar maneuvered its Speaker toward the ziggurat. It walked to an elevator and a while later stepped out onto the open roof.

A large crystal stood in the center of the roof, its bottom was attached to two dozen cables all reaching to the sides of the roof and devices set there. A group of cthul scientists worked on the consoles, but the Atalar had eyes only for the person in the center, standing next to the crystal.

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

“What is your progress?” Atalar asked through its vessel. It didn’t really speak, it pushed the idea of what it wanted and the biological vessel it was using interpreted that and produced the closest thing it could to Atalar’s will.

Ra’azel didn’t turn to look at the Speaker, his eyes were focused on the crystals and the thick chains wrapped around it. Each carved with elaborate runes that were glowing softly.

“I’ve encountered an obstacle,” Ra’azel answered. “I’ve studied his connection to the Plane, this Way, I see it, feel it. I cannot recreate it. Perhaps in time I could achieve it myself. I am… close I believe, if I could only focus on that, find a Plane that resonates with my being, my Soul—”

“—We do not have time,” Atalar interrupted. “You promised results. If you are unable to—”

Ra’azel turned to look at the Speaker, cutting it off, his face twisted in anger. “And I will deliver. Do not disrespect me with such accusations.”

Atalar didn’t get offended, it couldn’t, it didn’t consider Ra’azel anything more than a pawn. “Our timeline had shortened again. The great work needs to be accomplished soon.”

Ra’azel turned to look back at the crystal that housed the trapped Soul. “Fine, I will use his connection. It will take a few weeks, but I can do it. You will need to get me more power, what you have here is insufficient. And more Reaction Engines.”

“It will be done,” Atalar said, satisfied. Ra’azel reached out and started carving runes in the air, dismissing Atalar’s Speaker.

Atalar pulled his being from the vessel, then reached across the land to another means of communication. In a room far away, a message appeared on the screen. A set of orders for its greatest tool. It was time for Atalar to send its Herald against their foes. Buying time had just become the absolute top priority.

The Herald of the Machine stood in the center of his flagship’s command center. The platform beneath his feet thrummed with power, wireless signals flowed up from it and into his implants, sending information directly to his brain. Some data was displayed in front of his eyes, other was displayed on the holographic table in front of him. He saw the entire war, with all of its expanded battlefields. He could zoom in, and jack into direct visual feeds of the battles, or just take in information feed to him through the Exalted Empire’s network by their drones.

The scope of the war had changed, grown beyond original parameters. He watched as red dots expanded and pushed in the north where the Triumphant Hive began its assault against the empire. He saw the Sects pushing forward, attacking beyond the front and taking territories.

Atalar had provided targets that the Sects would likely hit, but with the attacks from the Triumphant Hive and the rise of traitors from among the absorbed factions, the empire’s armies were hard pressed to respond everywhere.

Even without Atalar’s projections, he could see where this would lead. A total collapse of their battlelines and loss of significant territory in the Core. If he was in charge, he would’ve given all those fronts up already, let them keep their enemies busy trying to settle them and reinforce, all the while he gathered his forces for the counterattack. But that was only if the war of conquest was the goal.

It was not. Their purpose was greater. A sacrifice was needed, of men, of equipment, of resources. But in the end it would be worth it. All of them relied on the Framework, while the Empire did not. It utilized the laws of reality, and bent them to their will through ingenuity.

Soon, their superiority would be apparent.

The Herald of the Machine sent out orders to his fleet. Atalar’s instructions were clear. He was to buy time, and what better way to buy time than to land a crippling blow against their enemies.