NationStates Jolt Archive

There was no place like it in the universe. The solar system had but one sun, one planet, and this planet had one moon. The sun was strange in nature, close to super nova, which would spell the end of the unique solar system. The planet was a desert wasteland, no living thing breaking the horrible silence. Winds of 500 miles per hour whipped the desert sands, as an atomosphere of mercury gas and uranium spelled death to any creature. The planet was sterile, even bacteria strangly absent. There was only one structure on the planet, and this only posed more questions then answered them.

The structure was a monolith of sorts, measuring only 10 feet tall. It was made of a strange stone, and it had a strange beasts inscribed onto it. These figures were seldom completely human, but often approached humanity in varying degree. Most of the bodies, while roughly bipedal, had a forward slumping, and a vaguely canine cast.

The moon however, was far more interesting. The entire surface was littered with graves. Headstones, plaques, and masoleums covered the entire surface. The inscriptions on the graves were of an unknown language, but one could tell they were quite old. The graves were cramped together, barely enough room to walk between them. Some were tall, some were short, but all ancient.

This grave moon waited to be explored, and who knew what secrets, or horrors, might be found inside...

Xerenith loped along the tunnel, his war club in hand. He sniffed the air in search of food, the need for flesh almost overpowering. Food was getting scarce and factions had begun to make war and consume each other. The preists were the only thing keeping the peace, and they were only barely hanging on.

Suddenly Xerenith noticed something above him. Noise? He sniffed the air. It was no ghoul....so what was it? Xerenith tunneled to the surface caustiously, wondering what could be the source of the noise. He came through a grave devoured long, long ago. Xerenith did not surface, but listened.

"....really weird feeling, over."

What strange language was this? Xerenith had little time to ponder, his hunger overtaking him. Xerenith burst from the grave, grabbing the being by it's legs. He dragged him into the grave, where Xerenith quickly disembowled him with his claws. The being screamed, and Xerenith knew that hordes of his kin would soon be on thier way. Xerenith began to feed, eating as much as he could. The being screamed more as another ghoul ripped off his left arm, and ran to a safer feasting place. It wasn't long before nearly 600 ghouls were fighting over the scraps of flesh. In the ensuing battle, nearly 367 ghouls were killed.
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The ship "Brainchild" soon sent out it's distress beacon, after it's sole occupant had not returned in 4 earth days. The beacon streamed through out the universe, regardless of the fact that it's cause had long been lost....

"So, life has come to us?"
"Indeed...now what do we do?"
"We could wait for more to come...but that can't feed us all."
"Yes...we all know that Pntah is on the verge of collapse. More and more ghouls abandon us for the dreamworld each day, willingly taking the oath to never return to our angle of reality."
"What to do..."

The ghoul preists sat atop headstones in a dark, unilluminated cavern. Here the most ancient of ancient graves resided, and the ghouls preists themselves had begun to turn a deep green with age, as if moss was slowly engulfing them. They wracked thier impossibly ancient minds for answers to the question. The only reason they had been able to reach Koo'tiki was it's foolish inhabitants had opened gateways to Pntah. The ghouls had been dormant then, most not even free from the dreamworld of Kadath.

As the preists racked thier undead brains, other ghouls were clamoring across the surface, searching for more signs of life. They had encountered the ship the being had used, and had begun to inspect it. It was nothing like they had seen before, it's flashing lights and strange shape confusing them. The doors to the strange "building" were unopenable, even to the strength of the ghouls. No amount of beating with clubs, axes, or other such weapons could pierce it's hull. Many ghouls now considered it a gift from the gods, and that it was somehow a gateway to worlds with life.

The enitirity of Pnath was abuzz with activity. Some ghouls were even be coaxed out of the dreamworld to see all the commotion. The preists had decided it was time to go in search of life, of food. But what of Pnath? Were they to leave the moon the gods had given them? The answer was a resounding no. Pnath was the only place ghouls could come out of the dreamworld into, and as such Pnath would remain the home base of the ghouls.

But vessels would have to be constructed to traverse space, but the vessels somehow must have the ability to keep in touch with Pnath. So the preists decreed that research must be done on the gates between Pnath and Koo'tiki. The ghouls assembled glibbered and meeped among themselves, all too eager to complete the task ahead of them. If thier project failed....the ghoul presence in this degree of reality would fail as well.

The ghouls quickly swarmed the gates, learning all they could. It was clear that the glyphs surronding the gates were the key, but how they were powered and what they meant was the mystery.

The Phyrexians, much as those on the planet, were recently re-birthed into the stars. Their massive ships, black as the withered organic pumps which some of them still had tucked away in their chests, moved with deathly effeciency through the Void, finding worlds and catalouging them. Seeking to spread the Faith of the Machine God, the Hidden One.

The being which knew itself only as 'Sensor' spoke, "The planet is dead. Move on. Further exploration of this system is inneffecient."

Draz knew otherwise. Perhaps it was the similarity to his own home of so long ago, before he had become Complete. The graves, the marker they had observed on the planet, it all reminded him of something, so vauge that he wondered if it was merely some corruption taking hold in the few remaining shreds of organic material in his head. "We do not move on. Keep scanning, broadcast the primes again. There is something here, can you not FEEL it?"

Sensor replied as only it could, "The planet is dead. Move on."

The Phyrexian ship stayed put, broadcasting waves of radio, ultraviolet, visible light, many signals and probes, but nothing came back from the planet but the static of its electromagnetic field as it spun through space.

*poke*