Chapter CLI: Wherever You May Be, I Will Find You ~Lich/Markior

Merthi’Dana! Raszagal mentally cheered, the old Protoss words for "keep it up". The four beings, three of the first and one of the third creations of the Xel’Naga were still busy with their game. The Nexus had made them forget their mortal life’s worries and responsibilities, and made them feel young again...even Markior, who had never had a youth in the first place. The game had changed to a little more offensive themed game: Markior was hovering in the air, his eyes ablaze with light, and his hands thrust forwards in Tassadar’s direction. A beam of white energy had engulfed the Protoss, as Markior put his energy into the offensive blast. Meanwhile, the Templar placed all his energy in his defensive Psi Shield. The blue bulb of energy rippled against Markior’s psionic blast as the Archon remained attacking. Tassadar had his hands clenched, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

By the Khala, Tassadar is doing great... Fenix silently echoed, as the glowing white contents from his glass disappeared.

Raszagal nodded, sitting down. How many seconds has it been? Fourty? she spoke, brushing her blackened hair away from in front of her glowing eyes.

Fenix nodded. Something like that...

Markior narrowed his eyes as he saw the energy of his psionic blast continuously being spread outwards by the orb of defensive energy around Tassadar.

With a mental grin, the light between his fingertips differed in shade, as he echoed, TOTAL GREY BLAST!

The blast of energy emitted from his hands narrowed down slightly and turned into a light shade of grey, penetrating Tassadar’s psionic shield and striking him away on the chest. The Templar backed away, reflexively holding his chest and grinning up at Markior.

Ah, Markior…The force of your total grey is greater then I expected…

He sat down, as Markior lowered himself to a semi-standing position.

Indeed, Tassadar, my old friend, he grinned. But, remember, you started the idea of Grey power.

Dimatrioch slowly made her way over the hills under the sky of the inner Nexus. The swirling grey energies that made up her slender lower body moved in a continuous mixture of grace and power as she made her way forward, her head’s stature and height never changing during her movements.

Markior… she called out.

Her mental voice was just a whisper, yet the four below on the ‘battle’ grounds heard it clearly. The Markior, remaining his Archonic shape, nodded towards Tassadar, Fenix and Raszagal.

We’ll continue this later…mind you, I’ll still get revenge for last Psiball’s game’s loss, he grinned, floating up towards his female creator. Yes, Xel’Naga mother?

Listen to me, third creation, my child, she began, tilting her head. For my words now will not be those you will enjoy hearing…

Markior looked slightly confused, his Xel’Naga shouldershield and cape appearing upon his form, as the sight of them seemed to comfort his creators.

Destiny flows like a river, and the waterfall of that river which had sent you here… did not end in the sea. Your river of time is still growing… expanding.

Markior blinked. He clenched his fist as he lowered his head. I see…but how...? Havering must be dead…and I thought that the great balance was always preserved…all darkness has a light counterpart…is it Ulrezaj? Can the great balance not create a counterpart for him?

Dimatrioch slowly shook her head.

We are not sure…it appears as though the followers of Havering and your mortal friends are looking for the Creation’s Weapons... these items were created by the keeper of this Nexus in the beginning of time. And, strangely so, you are the key to one of them.

Markior kept silent. He had visited the Beginning of Time once… but he would never speak of it to anyone…not even Dimatrioch. Finally, he answered, Well…I am…here now. The mortal planes are behind me. There is nothing to be done about that. I could only return from the Nexus once, and I did.

Gezriach, in the Xel’Naga Temple, began to hum, his eyes closed in thought as he extended his hands in front of him.
Ee’heera vandulak’henza maae… he started to chant.

Silent winds started to surround his form, turning and twisting his cape in the upward current as it grew in strength. The lights surrounding him dimmed as he started to open a psychic connection through time, space and death. However, he knew that his voice would only be strong enough to be heard at fully decreased consciousness… he waited.

Your father will contact the keeper of the Xol’Arago, your orange-skinned friend, Dimatrioch spoke. He will send him to that world where even you have not been to. The dead planet of our species, the Xel’Naga.

Markior widened his eyes in surprise. I thought it had been destroyed… he echoed.

Dimatrioch nodded. It has...but that does not mean it isn’t still there… Within the blackened ruins of our civilisation, he will find that what is needed to bring you back to them.

Markior nodded slowly again as the words sunk into his mind. He turned towards his three friends.

Destiny is a cruel companion, my mother. I’ll just say my farewells to Tassadar, Fenix and Raszagal… again.

--------

A loud “BLART!!” woke Lich from his brief nap.

“Dammit, why did they have to come so soon…” he muttered as he swung his legs around, seeing Shero and Lumina.

“That’s them, isn’t it?” Lumina asked. “Talk about efficient…”

“Too efficient,” Lich groaned. “I don’t think I can walk yet…could you take me out there, please?”

“Certainly,” the Light Elemental answered.

Moments later, his head spinning, he was on the island’s main beach, beside Shero, with Lumina making him hover an inch above the ground. With another offensive “BLART!” the Spectrum was hurtling towards him as if he were on a station platform. The train was shuddering, and its wheels sent a shower of sparks over the sand. Lich felt that his strength was slowly sapping away…

Squinting, he could see Omega in the doorway – though he was not there for long. Before Lich knew it, Omega had gripped the door frame with one arm and extended it to its full length, while the other arm did the same thing, his hand ready to grab Lich.

“Cyado, and thanks,” Lich said to his companions.

Omega grabbed his shoulder, contracted his arms and swung Lich into the doorway. He closed the door after him. Lich felt a little weaker…

“What was that all about?” he asked, puzzled.

“Well,” the robot started, “we have a bad mess and the others are kinda busy – we gotta get back to ‘em as soon as possible.”

Lich nodded, then remembered the note from CR and asked, “Where’s my brother?”

“In the back, still huddled up, I think,” Omega replied, pointing. He then lowered his arm and began to gesticulate as he continued, “Look, I’d try to help, but I don’t exactly trust our life in the hands of a being who’s never flown something as simple as a bi-axel dual overdriven by default solar-powered automobile, let alone a trans-dimensional, hover-train!”

Lich blinked as he tried to ingest all that Omega said as he hurried back to the engine room. With Omega’s gruff “Gittou’”, the “being” that Omega spoke of came out – a purple Yoshi that did not stand erect. It had a shock of green hair and a pendant around its neck, but that was not what caught Lich’s attention: It wore no shoes, yet its feet were predominantly taken up by sharp claws; if the feet were not enough, it had claws on its fingers, yellow spines on its saddle, a long tail with spikes at the end, and sprouting from its head were two backward-pointing horns that looked sharp enough to pierce any armour. Lich’s features grew pale as he recognized who the Yoshi was from Sixtyfourhundred’s descriptions – Kurayami, Warp Drone in tow.

“What the…” Lich gasped.

“You’re this ‘Lich’, right?” he addressed him, his tone filled with arrogance with a hint of hatred.

Lich tried to walk backwards, but his legs had not yet grown used to his bone reinforcements. Combined with the action taking a good amount of his energy, Lich collapsed backwards.

“Go…away…” he whispered.

He willed his right hand to clench the Boomerang, but as he freed it from his belt, it slipped from his fingers.

“Go…away…”

His head spun, and his body suddenly felt like it was being wrenched from beneath his head as the Spectrum arrived on Medghelica. Heratu’s claimed him like death, sending him unconscious before he had the chance to regurgitate.

…Slowly, as they always did, the dreams started to slide out of their hiding places in the recesses of his imagination, boosted along by his namesake in their ferocity…

As Pyrak began to glow a lucid green, Tob shouted, "Get the hell out of here!"

"Where?!" Lich cried.

"Anywhere!"

With that, the Koopa began to run towards the wreckage of the spire as the room began to shake violently, and beams of light began to pour out from the maniacally laughing Pyrak.

Lich opened his Dragonite's Pokéball and leapt on board, beckoning Ark to hop on. He had no reluctance whatsoever as he clambered on behind Lich and wrapped his arms around his brother's chest.

"Ta…ta…" Pyrak uttered, before his legs exploded.

Lich pulled Nessie's antennae and the three were off through an open wall, watching Tob clamber over the wreckage.

I have to leave him, he thought, Nessie can only take two.

"Faster!" he commanded, as the Dragonite began to fly his fastest.

Tob ran as fast as he could, leaping from one piece of wreckage to another - and failing, falling...

Lich too, was falling, but upwards, through a rippling standstill image of Tob's mournful gaze...

Soon it rippled and faded into nothing save an intense, grey light, like staring out through a cloud. Like it, the glare was so overpowering he had to shut his eyes; yet the light penetrated his eyelids. He could not feel his tongue - in fact, he could not feel.

A voice spake unto him – not spoke to him, for it was powerful and commanding, wrenching respect immediately from the listener. It was old, yet vigorous and full of spirit. There was a second tone in the voice – lighter, yet containing the same amount of power.

It spake thus: “I speak to ye, keeper of the Xol’Arago.”

Lich felt as if a hole was drilled into his brain, and everything he contained in his mind was being sucked out.

“The Xol’Arago…” Lich wondered

Wasn’t that the Xel’Naga – the Arc’s creators - name for it?

“Who are you?”

“I am Gezriach. I speak to you, in this time of despair. I am the father of the one you call Markior. I speak to you, from the Nexus.”

Lich was overawed.

“Syoro,” he started, using the Pandoran title for “Sir”, “why do you speak to someone as lowly as myself?”

"You are the Keeper of the Xol'Arago, the great weapon of light passed down by the Xel'Naga,” Gezriach answered. “You have proven your valor many a time, your heart is pure and your mind is open. Therefore, you are worthy, and will come to know one of the greatest secrets known to our extinct people. But first, I must ask you a question that you must answer."

"Syoro, my heart is not pure, for I have corrupted my body with metal parts to wield the Xol'Arago,” he replied, almost instantly. “I fear that you may be asking the wrong person for this task.”

"And would that not be our cause?” the Xel’Naga asked. “The weapon of light could only be handled by those able to. We knew that under the circumstances, the weapon would adjust its Keeper's body to suit its requirements. Indeed, your body belongs to the Xol'Arago. Yet still, your heart is pure. If you wish to understand, you must cease thinking in the physical."

Lich was silent as he absorbed the words, still in awe.

"Much is said in silence,” Gezriach continued. “My question to you is a simple one, which I know you will answer incorrectly. Where do you think Markior is now?"

Lich thought a moment before he answered, "In all honesty, I do not know, Syoro. I know that five of my world's years ago he went to the planet Aiur. I do not know where he has gone since, if he has gone anywhere from Aiur."

"I am sorry to do this,” was the near-instantaneous answer, like a teacher. “There is a great barrier inside your mind, created by the Keeper of the physical planes. For you to understand, I shall release a part of your memory. Markior is not on either Firstborn Homeworld, neither light nor dark. Behold."

Lich found himself standing on the edge of a large crater, able to see. Markior stood along it, before he disappeared. There was an all too familiar yell of “Where’s my brother?!” as he saw himself get up further around the crater rim. There were other people around his other self – Ark, Sixtyfourhundred…yet quite a number he could not recognise.

Suddenly an engine above whirred into life as a gargantuan figure in the middle, standing on the black remains of what seemed to be a craft of Mana Fortress proportions raised its arms. Looking up, he could see a Protoss carrier – heavily damaged, its markings teal. There were Yoshian letters on it - Ganthritor II. The ground began to shake, and it started to lift away, as if each rock and flattened tree were trying to get away from the being.

Attention, my friends, Markior’s voice boomed in his mind. Evacuate the crater…Run. Run as far away as possible. This ends now…

Lich realised where he was. In unison, he and the other Lich said, “Oh no, he’s going to do a Tassadar.”

Time slowed, time sped up…

The Carrier’s engines throbbed as it began to plough straight for the figure.

This is how it is meant to be…En Taro Adun, Lich, when we meet again, he could hear Markior’s voice.

The being’s face was in absolute fear, its eyes widened to their limits. The carrier was almost completely buried in the soil it had driven itself into. Soon there was an explosion of light…yet the words echoed: This is how it is meant to be…Lich…This is how it is meant to be…Lich…

Suddenly he found himself surrounded by the glaring grey light. He shut his eyes once more.

“No…” Lich said, trying to deny what he saw. “Then…it is true. My dreams have told me the truth…five long years of expectation, of waiting…for nothing…”

“Indeed it is true,” Gezriach answered. “Markior is here, with us.”

"Here...the Nexus...isn't that what the Protoss and the Xel'Naga call Paradise?"

“You might call it that. You might not comprehend it, but the Nexus is the spiritual brother of the Nexus of things. While the one you know as CR controls the physical planes in the Nexus of things, in the Nexus, the one called Demenoz controls the spiritual planes. This place, the Nexus, is also the Heaven of the immortals. Immortality as you know it comes in two ways. Someone can live forever unless they're destroyed. This kind of immortality did Markior have." Gezriach paused.
"Now... we know about the ordeal with the Creation's Weapons,” he went on. “These weapons were created by Demenoz's hand at the Beginning of Time."

In shock, Lich shouted, "The Mana Sword wasn't...it was forged by the Mana Goddess - it is our truth!"

"This is indeed the truth,” Gezriach’s voice calmed him. “Managaia, as we name her, has forged the sword. However, it was the Embodiment of Eternal grey, Demenoz, who began its creation. Because of the pure Right Path power it had to possess, he let his daughter finish its creation after many of your centuries."

There was silence.

"Indeed. Gaia's, or gods and goddesses, as you call them, are created in the Nexus. Demenoz is the keeper of the Nexus. So that is why you might consider her his child."

"I see,” Lich said, after a moment of thought. “So, why do you tell me he is there?"

“Destiny, Keeper,” was the swift reply. “Destiny is something Demenoz and CR have no control over. She is sometimes cruel, and sometimes compassionate. When Markior sacrificed himself to destroy Havering, it was destiny. And now, you will bring Markior back. This too, is destiny."

He sighed. "Your curiosity makes you learn things you should not even be allowed to know after your own destiny ends…however, desperate times call for desperate measures."

"I...I will revive Markior?" Lich said, taken aback.

"You and your companions, but you are the key. You must travel to Xel'neh-mi, our fallen homeworld. The planet itself has died, and ruins of our once great civilisation still stand. As Markior might have told you, we used to travel in worldships after our original world was destroyed."

"Yes, he has told me. What will I find there?"

There was a moment’s silence before Gezriach answered, “A ring we call the Ancient's Relic. With this, you can make a request to Demenoz to revive anyone who's located in the Nexus, once every Xel'Naga century. It has been over a century since it has been used, and it is still there. The ring cannot leave the homeworld it was forged on."

"Anywhere on this planet?"

"You'll know where to look. Even now, it will begin to beckon you, like a living compass."

Lich had a sudden feeling of distrust, especially due to the moments of silence the Xel’Naga gave.

"How do I know you have been telling the truth all along?" he asked, cynically.

Suddenly, another voice spoke, one very familiar: "I know you can do it, Lich. I say, compared to what we've been through, this is a simple task."

Lich was aghast as he recognised the voice of the speaker.

"Markior?!"

“En Taro Adun, my friend.”

There was a momentary pause, before Lich’s distrust surfaced once more.

"How do I know that you aren't projecting his voice?" he asked.

"Because you can sense my energy pattern, Lich,” Markior answered.

He felt for the Mana signature…indeed…it was Markior…but there was something slightly different about it…

“I believe that it is true…”

“Listen,” he continued. “My mother told me...I am the key to one of the Creation's Weapons. I don't know how or why yet, but that's double the reason for you to go to Xel'neh-mi, hrm?"

"I will go. Mana guide me."

"Perfect…awaken, Lich,” the Yoshi Guardian told him. “My father is straining to keep up this link through space, time and death. If all goes well, I'll see you and the others very soon again... May the light of the Khala guide your path."

Lich felt as if he was falling again…

…And falling into consciousness.

The ghostly clickity-clack, clickity-clack of the Spectrum as it journeyed along its rails was a sure sign that they were traveling again as he opened his eyes to see he was lying on the bed in his quarters. His tremendous urge to regain his temporal bearings began to eat away at him as he sat up and swung his legs around, onto the floor – he eased it by withdrawing two watches from his Mana Storage: one set to Fa’dieli time on the Pandoran mean, the other to Yamauchi’s Yoshiville time.

“It was morning when I left…” he mused as he saw an evening time on his Fa’dieli watch. “I was probably out for a while after my recalibration…I’m sure I was out for a good length of time just then…”

He found his gaze fixed at a point in the ceiling, as if it had naturally positioned itself. He lowered it again, before it mysteriously sprang back to gazing at the ceiling again.

Didn’t he say something about a compass?

Lich had to concentrate on keeping his head level as he stood up, and walked out the door on his ready legs, straight into another figure. It turned, Lich able to see its noseless, blue face – Twilighter…yet only the image of one.

“What the…” he stepped back.

“Hah, he awakes,” the Twilighter said in a crisp, upper-class accent that reeked of arrogance. “I had been wondering where you had got to, lizard.”

“Yoshi,” Lich automatically corrected him.

Wasn’t he familiar from somewhere…?

“No, I shall continue to call your pathetic race lizards,” it snarled…

The wheels of recognition began to turn…

“…especially after what you did…”

Fragments of memories began to coalesce…

“…Kakkaran coffee, who would have thought…”

Events began to link to one another…

“…and your brother…”

The links sped towards their destination…

“…betraying me like that…”

CLICK!

Lich jumped back into the small room, instinctively reaching for the Boomerang, only to find his hand grasping for air. His adrenaline began to pump itself into his bloodstream in vast quantities. He tensed up, and nervously readied his hands into the casting position.

“Get…a-way…from…me…Hav-er-ing…” he squeaked.

“Now, now, there’s no need for violence…at least from you,” he said, as the ghostly image of his trademark brandy sifter appeared in his hand. “Just letting you know that you had better go and see your brother in the hangar, he’s looking rather…” he paused in thought, “…manic.”

“Don’t…trust…you…”

“You had better, dear Guardian. While I think of it, your precious little toy’s on that bedside table there. You might need it.”

Lich reached for it.

“Oh, and…”

The Yoshi paused.

“…I recommend you don’t shoot nor throw it at me. I’m only a projection, as you can see, no doubt. But, let me assure you, my powers are still very potent.”

Lich took the Cyan Arc and walked cautiously through the door, the Twilighter standing aside. He kept his eyes on him as he walked backwards along the corridor, pointing its laser tip at him. He jumped slightly as he hit the door at the other end, before reaching for its handle with his left hand, slipping inside as soon as it was open enough, and closing it after he passed through.

He turned so that his back was to the side of the door its hinges were on, and waited for any attack from Havering, breathing heavily. He let himself calm down as no attack made itself apparent, lowering his arm and emitting a small sigh of relief.

A series of punctuated sobs began to echo around the hangar, bouncing off its steel walls and Artanis’ Scout.

“Ark?” he called softly, wincing as his gentle tone lost its compassion through echoing, becoming metallic.

The sobs began to turn into loud cries and noisy gasps. He swore in his mind as he began to walk towards the source of the noise, a collection of crates and fuel drums in a corner of the hangar. The slapping of his rubber thongs on the metal floor cracked like a whip that had been mixed with a sponge. He began to piece together words of compassion and reasoning in his head, trying to create a conversation starter.

He came to Ark’s defensive barrier of the crates and drums, the boundary of his territory of depression. His crying had begun to die down, but crescendoed again as Lich saw the pathetic sight: he was huddled in a corner, his vestments scattered around him so that he was naked, a shiny trail of mucus extending from his nostrils down the sides of his spherical nose and his face tear streaked. He tried to squash himself further into the corner, the walls not giving way to him as he seemed to wish, then brought up his arm so that it shielded his face as he shrieked, “Go away! Get away from me!”

Lich took a step back in surprise as Ark began to sob once more.

“Ark…” Lich started, then sighed and shook his head.

“Get away from me…” he cried, broken by sobs.

Lich remained silent as his head was bowed. It was natural that his brother was curious – yet he was the one who had let him see him undergo Refinement.

“Get away from me…cyborg…”

Lich blinked, then raised his head slowly as he breathed in.

“Ark…I…”

“Get away from me!”

The younger von Kippo raised the Spear, pointing it at Lich’s head, his eyes green flames peering out from beneath his arm.

“Ark…I’m sorry that I le-”

“No you’re not!” he yelled. “You betrayed me once, it was wrong of me to trust you again!”

“You know tha-“

“I don’t want to hear any of your lies, ‘borg!”

“You haven’t seen Dark whi-“

A “daser” met the ground near his feet. Lich jumped back and readied the Boomerang again as Ark stood up.

“I trusted you,” Ark snarled. “I trusted you for five long years. Little did I know that when we meet again, you’ve gone had your body pumped full of metal – why, the entirety of your right arm’s robotic!”

“Ark, the Boomer-“

“That’s right, go and blame your damn weapon that you love more than your own brother as part of the act to keep me thinking that I’m still number one!”

“How can you say that?!” Lich shouted.

“I have proof in the form of your letters!”

“I wanted to tell you about it!”

“Indeed you did,” Ark shook his head as he bowed it. “Indeed you did….”

He paused and looked up at his older brother evilly.

“…Lich.”

“Ark…” he warned.

“What does it matter to me anymore if I call you Dy or Lich, you’re not my brother – you’re a machine!”

“You are still my damn brother – nothing can change that!”

“Oh, look at that, everybody!” Ark yelled, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “I’m his ‘damn brother’! What great sentiment!”

Lich fell silent for a moment, bowing his head.

“I know I’ve hurt you by this…” he murmured

“Hurt? Hurt?! That doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel! Torn asunder, perhaps…but betrayed…definitely.”

“Then tell me how a weapon that alters my body to suit its needs is betrayal!”

“You’re lying, ‘borg…I saw it myself. The weapon didn’t alter you, you altered yourself!”

“What the hell do you think that whole merging process is, then, huh?! Just a pretty light show and my screaming?!”

Ark fell silent. Lich breathed deeply and began to calm himself down.

“Ark…I found the Boomerang in the Spirit Temple of Hyrule, and as I held it in my hand, it sh- ”

“Show me the proof!” Ark screamed. “Show me the damn proof!”

“I…can’t…”

“Then I don’t believe you. Now, tell me where my brother is, cyborg, or shall I have to force it from you?”

“I’m here in front of you, Ark! Has your anger blinded you that far?!”

“Tell me!” Ark shrieked as he threw the Ebony Lance at Lich.

Lich rolled to the side as the Spear missed him by mere inches. He looked up to see a red circle of light surrounding Ark’s feet, his fists clenched against his body.

“Ark! No!”

Ark snapped them open and pointed his hands at him. A series of fiery explosions rocked Lich’s body back and forth before sending him flying. He landed heavily on his shoulders on the floor with a cry of pain.

“Ark! Stop!”

He had taken the Spear and was submitting Lich’s body to a burst of daserfire.

“Please! I beg you!”

“You betrayed me…now you pay!”

Ark ran at him, holding the Spear in a position ready to stab him. He jumped, and Lich rolled out of the way as the Lance came into contact with the metal beside him.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Ark…” Lich panted as he leapt to his feet.

His warning was unheeded as Ark began to summon the powers of Shade, a faint, grey circle of light around him. Lich ran towards him and tackled him, but Ark had already brought his clenched fists into his chest and snapped them open.
Time seemed to slow down as balls of dark energy emerged from the shadows around them and sailed into Lich’s body. When it had reached a critical level, Lich was blown back by the large, purple explosion.

Ark got up off the floor and began to run at him again. Lich spun the Boomerang in a very fast circle, creating a cyan shield that the Lance struck. Electricity coursed its way along the Spear and into Ark, giving him a 30,000 Volt shock that sent him flying ten feet into the air, backwards. He slid along the ground as he landed while Lich stood up and walked cautiously towards him.

He lay on the ground, his breathing still.

Lich stood before him and called, “Ark?”

His answer was the magenta Yoshi yelling as he rose and began to “rush” him: the Spear was a black streak as it passed faster than the eye could see between two stab points on Lich’s stomach, a black spark arcing between them. Lich screamed under the enormity of the pain.

The door to the hangar opened with a resounding clang and CR strode in towards them.

“What is the meaning of this?” he bellowed.

An entourage of most of the other crew members followed him through the door, many gasping at the sight.

Sixtyfourhundred, Naaro, Kenzo, Artanis and Scilas ran towards the maniacally smiling Ark. They grabbed him and pulled him away from Lich, who slumped to the ground, and tried to pin him down. Ark growled and pushed the Spear lengthways against four of them, sending them flying from the electric shock. Artanis remained standing next to him, and soon had a magenta arm tightly around his neck and the Spear crackling an inch from his ear, another gasp from the crowd.

“Right!” Ark yelled. “None of you move, or the ‘Toss gets fried.”

By Tassadar, let me go, Yoshi! Artanis psychically yelled.

“Don’t struggle, or I will hurt you.”

“Let him go, Ark,” CR commanded, and began to walk towards him.

Ark jabbed Artanis’ shoulder, the Protoss yelling as he was electrocuted.

“Next time, I go for his head.”

There was silence.

“Right, Protoss,” Ark growled as he began to drag him, “We’re going to your ship, and you will tell me how to fly it.”

Only I can fly it, Artanis replied. Psychic connection.

“Then you will fly it for me. If you try to pull anything off, I will kill you.”

Ark began to climb up the small ramp into the Scout.

“And if any of you try to do anything while I depart,” he called, “I’ll get him to fire its weapons on you!”

“You wouldn’t dare!” CR yelled.

“Try me,” Ark grinned evilly.

Both of them went inside. There was a distant call of “Get it flying, now!” before the ramp slid back and the door shut. With a jet of steam from the Scout’s engines, the engine began to whirr, and the craft lifted itself off the ground, its landing gear retracting. It turned a foot off the ground, and began to hover towards the wall at the farthest end. Automatically, the back wall began to lift, a forcefield keeping all the oxygen in the train, and the Scout sped out through the gap into the realms of space, the wall closing behind them as they left.

Within the Scout, Artanis looked with narrowed eyes at Ark.

“Ok, Protoss, get us out of here,” Ark ordered, the Spear of Darkness still pointed at Artanis’s temple. “Do it!”

The last species that involved the Protoss in a conflict of brethren did not surv- Artanis began to threaten, but was silenced by the pointed end of Ark’s weapon pressing against his head’s skin.

He turned the scout around and engaged the thrusters, the back of the Scout lighting up in a bright blue light. Ark nodded and sat down, rubbing his forehead with his free hand. Artanis didn’t look at Ark…instead, his hand slid over the translucent screen and his eyes lit up. A small Recall portal appeared in front of the Scout, and drew it in. Within that split second, the scout recalled out in the same place, but with another path of flight…

The group ran towards Lich, who had turned himself over and was pointing his finger towards the ceiling, his left arm at full length, before it fell limp with a groan.

“Dammit,” CR shook his head.

As Lich had designed it to do, a handle of the Cup of Wishes poked out from his pocket, a tag attached to it with “If I’m dead, pour this in my mouth” written in many different languages.

CR took the grail, removed the seal from its opening, opened Lich’s mouth and poured its contents in. A moment later, Lich coughed, and yelled as the pain from his stomach returned to him.

“Someone get over here and help him.”

Sapphire, her capsules ready, came running towards him, but Lich had already drawn enough strength to withdraw a bar of Pakkun chocolate from his Storage, and began to munch on it.

“Gulto, that’s twice in…a short space of time…” he muttered in Pandoran, before looking up at CR and demanding, “Where is he?”

“He took Artanis hostage and made him fly his Scout out of here,” CR replied.

Lich sighed, before he turned over, away from them.

“You pointed your finger at something before you collapsed. Where were you pointing to?”

“Xel’neh-mi,” Lich muttered.

“That’s the Xel’Naga homeworld…how come?”

“We must go there. Revive Markior. Now leave me alone.”

Slowly, everyone began to leave the hangar, boosted along by CR’s “He wants to be alone, let him be alone” until the room was empty and silent, save for the noise of the Spectrum as it trundled along its wheels. Lich lay on the cold floor.

“Ubarano to opa bete, re iolo to tasan,” Lich whispered, before he began to cry.