Project Digamma

The coming of light was always a quiet time for the village.  As if its battle with the darkness was something simple or meaningless. It was told in the Book of Seasons that the darkness was the embodiment of Zioct, the Abomination’s hatred for the pure and beautiful Keallops. For with it he could hide his abominations from the simple Keallops, making their destruction all but certain. However the Goddess Sanjeat, Mother of the Keallops, watched over them. Using her light, she vanquished the vile creations of Zioct and pushed back the darkness.  This was temporary however, for such is his power that Sanjeat, in her Infinite Beauty must retreat away for half a day and leave her children to fend for themselves. The Book of Creation proclaims that one day the Keallop will no longer be children. Soon they will be strong enough to beat back the darkness themselves, securing an age of prosperity for Mother and Child.

Raal knew the stories well he was after all, an acolyte in her clergy. One of a select group of the faithful that had been elevated from the lower castes to serve as the Guardians of the Priestesses that ruled over the Keallop in her stead.  

A Blood Horn sounded, breaking the silence.  The Council was still in session meaning someone had grown impatient with the delay. Old women, Raal scoffed to himself, They love their talk. Truth be told, Raal was embarrassed. He had chosen to wait himself, rather than defy the will of the Priestesses. He should have bolder. He would have to change that.

The silence quickly returned as the horn’s soliloquy ended.  Raal waited patiently in his cot. Would there be a reply? The council would not be pleased but it wasn’t their decision that he and his people would ultimately follow. Sanjeat’s word was law and her wrath terrifying. No one who questioned her was welcome in their village. Outsiders learned quickly that Sanjeat cared only for her children and would not allow sinners in her lands. Outsiders would come in groups, sinners and unpure alike, the Keallops would feel pity for them and invoke a purity ritual for their benefit.  Very carefully the warrior caste would skin these sinners taking care to sear their muscles to prevent them from bleeding to death.  Then one by one they would be slowly boiled alive piece by piece while their companions watched on in horror. With the meat now tender and purified the Village Priestesses would flavor the flesh and divide it up amongst Sanjeat’s chosen ones. It was seen as a great honour, to eat the flesh of a sinner, to savor the sin and purify it as they joined the tribe though the bodies of the chosen.   An honor the Priestesses begrudgingly had to extend to the other sinners, for to feed a sinner with the food Sanjeat provided them was considered a crime against the Goddess, one that carried a harsh sentence.

Raal had never seen the sentence in question acted upon but it had been many years since the tribe had a sinner in their midst. Suddenly the clouds began to swirl and with a resounding clash, Sanjeat issued her reply. Blood rained from the sky, the Goddess had chosen WAR.  Raal jumped to his feet. Donning his headdress, the young warrior joined his brothers and sisters in the celebration of blood. Glasses were filled and weapons sharpened. He cheered and danced in her glory. As an acolyte in her clergy, he would see the most combat and be part of the bloodiest engagements. He was of the chosen and now he’d get the chance to show why.


“Who sounded the horn,” Raal heard the Priestesses of the Council accuse the warrior caste.

“It’s a clergy tool,” their leader spat back, “Your fools spend too much time debating. Wild Kret were spotted in her lands they must be exterminated. Her hatred of them and their vile corruption is well known.  What was there to discuss? Sinners that trespass on her lands must be sacrificed to her chosen.”

Raal’s thoughts drifted to the Kret. They were once the indigenous form of life on this planet 15 foot tall killers hailing from the warmer regions of the planet; followers of the Fake Gods. The Book of Creation spoke of these creatures many times. It was said that the Goddess trapped these vile sinners and purified them of their corruption. Raal never questioned the tale, never wondered how the reptilian monstrosities could be purified to create the Keallops. The Goddess only spoke truth and her words were never doubted, for she had no reason to lie to her children.

“I did it,” Raal stood and caught a council woman by the throat, “You have grown comfortable in your position and have betrayed the Goddess with your weakness and complacency.” There was fear in the woman’s eyes. She had ruled over the Keallops on the council since birth she knew immediately of what her mistake had been and worse still what her punishment would be. “Siblings the council has been corrupted, they no longer believe in her divine protection. Take these women to the purification tree where we may test their resolve and their faith in the goddess.” There was a cheer as the tribe led the women off.  Raal stood alone in silence. He wished, even more so now, that he had been the one who had blown that horn.

Sitting atop a vast structure, was a little boy by the name of Ayase. A mutant, and a failure, the boy was deemed completely useless and pretty much left to fend for himself. It wasn't until his Master found a use for him, that he'd truly been given a purpose... a purpose, which would have brought many shame, depending on how they were used. The strange building surface that he sat atop was like that of rocks protruding out of a strange mountainous area. The place was a true fortress, a Castle erected at the center of nowhere, owned by a powerful being, who he only knew so much about. The boy had golden-blonde air, a huge set of azure eyes, and a pale-skinned frame easily broken. His small wings came through the slits in his white long-sleeve shirt, which was made of a comforting fabric much like his pants. Though he was deemed a failed mutant being, there was something still so pure about him.

All around people bustled and moved. Guards flocked around the area, and made way through the fortress, protecting their strange home. Though there was no surrounding city, the people of this strange nation plowed on, thriving within these massive rocky walls. They were various beings, some of a familiar nature, others that were not. Ayase was only permitted to be alongside his Master, or out in "their public" if he was well hidden. Didn't matter what the Ruler said, a mutant was still a mutant, and one was best hidden. Ayase was thankful his wings were small enough, that a young-in's cloak was enough to suffice.

I just want to go out there... travel the worlds... and see what is out there... The lad thought to himself, looking out into the horizon. The winds calmly blew back his hair as he watched the suns move across the skies above, as though they too, circled the planet somehow. Obviously this was far from the case, but they sure looked rather strange overhead like they were.

The Ruler of the city, locked inside this massive fortress, was dressed in clad-black armor. From behind him, a long SIN-colored (pitch black) tail followed him, his weapon of choice before any else. With shooting neon-blue hair the male made his way through his Kingdom, appearing as no less a threat than eons before. The man carried a strange scepter in his right hand, walking with it, as the finishing tip glowed a strange bright green. Inside it were said to be the magics of Ancients, but to him it was just a toy. People moved from his path and got to one knee, bowing in respect to the ultimate force who so vigilantly offered them protection in exchange for their resources among other things. He said nothing, and only moved by in silence, that tail of his never once touching the ground. No one would have been stupid enough to reach out and touch it - were they, infection would claim them to their deaths just moments later. Silently everyone waited for him to make his way through the crowds, returning to his place of rest.

A familiar twinge caught the youth's attention, and he turned around and began to tip-toe over the rocky slabs, in through the carved-out space that resembled a window. He wandered in, and crawled through to his room, then placed his bare feet onto the grounding beneath him. Silently as possible, he tip-toed to the door which was closed over, and peered through a trap-looking door that was his eye-hole. Most of the time spent he was locked inside his room, but for now, he could leave if he wished. Swallowing hard, he watched as his Master walked through the halls moments later... his strange dragon-like feet padding the grounding as he did so.

The boy watched his long black cape blow up behind him, the wings of his Master elevated, and flexed backwards behind him, the cape draped down the center. It was as if the Keeper himself emanated so much raw power, so much energy... that he had a mysterious wind following him around at the same time. Truly though, it was just his shadowy element, which enveloped him always.

The lad blinked twice, and knocked on the inside of his door, and then backed away from it a moment later. He waited, until the doorknob was turned, and then watched somewhat nervously as the door opened.

"M-Master..." The boy immediately got down to his knee, such as the many others had before their Grand King. "...I was... wondering... if..."

The Keeper opened the door the rest of the way, and told the small lad to rise. As usual, he did what he was told, and made it a point never to stare his Owner in the face. He knew this would be out of utmost respect, which he would be rewarded for later, unlike some others who'd been captured and enslaved in the past.

"You are not to leave this fortress Ayase. A great many times have we spoken about this. You are safest here, and you will serve me best." The Keeper's voice was dark, low, and powerful. He referred to himself as the 'Great Keeper of the Abyss', and refused to go by the actual Faction name he belonged to. A rogue among many, the man just wanted to live... to thrive. Without problems. Though, some people, would bring problems to him, which would - surely end in their demise as such had happened before. "Now follow me, I've use for you yet." He said, turning his back to the lad, and wandering back into the halls.

"Forgive me, my Master..." The boy lowered his gaze, and followed the other male out from the strange room he'd been placed in.

All he dreamed of... for years... was to be free.

The purification tree towered over them. Long ago Sanjeat blessed her children with a gift she dropped from the sky. At first her children thought it was one of the many abominations Zioct had sent against the Goddess that day and respectfully the silent Keallops avoided the area. Many days later a young acolyte chanced upon the spot and found instead of a great crater, an enormous tree stood in its place. Within the tree’s trunk their Mother’s gift was embedded; a large tank containing a liquid with amazing healing properties.

Amongst the many rituals this one was considered the most severe and was reserved for priestesses and acolytes who had committed grave sins. Stripped and bound the women would be sent into the tank. An Esek, a tiny burrowing insect, would be added to the tank with them. The creature would then slowly tunnel into their prey. The tank would heal the occupant’s wounds as the insect continued to eat its way into its host. Once full the insect would split into several new bugs, which in turn would wake up hungry and continue the process a new. Normally this splitting process would take a few days allowing the host time to rest, but the Goddess had accelerated the process to take moments.

Due to the tanks rapid healing properties it would take many days for the insects to devour their host clean, but thankfully for their victims it normally only took a day for their will to break allowing them to be purified and passed on. The sinner’s body, still infested would then be removed and taken off her lands where the insect would gladly finish off the carcass in a matter of hours.

Since this was such a rare event, it was common for the Goddess to come watch herself. She would listen to the sinner’s cases and render a decision on whether or not they should be spared. The Goddess was all knowing and knew if they were innocent or not but she’d allow then to plead their case regardless. The chosen were not above her laws either and would undergo the same ritual, should they trespass against her.

Due to the high volume of sinners, it would take many days for the ritual to be completed. Time Raal disappointedly would have to spend elsewhere.


The alter dimmed as Raal got to his feet. He was uneasy. He had been in meditation for many hours and yet the Goddess remained silent, her words did not fill his head or his heart. Though it was not uncommon for one of the lower castes to be unable to hear the Goddess even after hours of prayer and meditation, for a chosen, such as Raal it was an ill omen. The chosen, as they we called, were individuals chosen by the Goddess from the lower and upper castes. These Chosen often embodied virtues that Sanjeat admired though not always. Some like Raal had simply caught her eye and deemed worthy of her blessing.

The Book of Seasons had very little to say of the Ritual of the Chosen, but explained knowledge of its process kept secret from the young Kellop, for their protection. The Chosen, though enlightened, being Kellop still, were also kept away from such knowledge. All that was known, of the few who survived the ritual, was that when they returned, they had changed. They now could hear Sanjeat’s words within their minds. They were stronger, faster and more agile then their brothers. Not to mention that as their ancestor the Kret they could regenerate their limbs, albeit much slower. (a year sometimes two, as opposed to a few days)

So with his Goddess’s silence, he was uneasy. Something was wrong. “Was that display really necessary?” Raal ignored the sudden interruption of his thoughts. He had been so lost in thought he hadn't noticed his brother had been watching him. Well at least he remembered not to interrupt me this time. As with many of the clan Raal thought his brother to be useless the child stayed at home and didn’t venture out. He did thankfully enough, study scripture, so he was welcome during rituals and the likes. But it was well know that his strange markings and behaviour made him an outcast even amongst family. “They were just scared. None of them have seen war they aren’t hardened like the rest of you.” Raal began to get dressed for the coming battle. His brother was forced sit in silence, it was clear he wasn’t being listened to.

Raal wore thick heavy cloth. There were stronger materials to be sure but he found the lighter fabric helped him stay mobile in the thick of battle. He reached for his belt and noticed his Blood Horn was missing. His eyes narrowed on his brother causing the boy to wince. “I’m sorry, someone had to do it.” His eyes softened and a small chuckle escaped his lips. Well at least the boy isn't completely useless.

The city of Defiance, bustled on without a care in the world right then.

With their Ruler having left the area, they were left to continue about their lives, and their daily escapades. Surely most of them were merchant-like - offering food to those in trade for other foods, or weaponry of all kinds. Others were just working on the small farms outside their strange dirt-stone houses, growing flowers, or picking strange fruits that grew from the land's surface. Adding in bits of liquid, they were able to strengthen their plant life, encouraging others around them to participate, in the bragging of their crops. Children and other youthful beasts were seen running around, perhaps preparing for some in-coming battles, or just training to better themselves. This strange Kingdom, was more about 'perfecting the self' than anything. So sparring over the dirt streets, was a common thing to see.

Guards of all kinds paraded their ways through the streets, watching, and making sure none of their Laws were broken. To do so was to loose their heads, which were tightly placed atop their shoulders here. People were weary of the Ruler, and rarely, were crime committed. Such a penalty, such a threat of sheer death - was normally enough to scare them. Rarely did even a single child attempt to steal. And if he had, he was explained away due to being too poor to grow his own, and perhaps, later turned into such a monster of a Guard. Everyone here had a purpose, a calling, a right of passage - something. There just was no room for "useless" beings. All of them were expected to set aside who and what they were, in order to continue on with the smooth essentials that made their nation so great. To question that alone, would put you before the hazard of a Ruler. No one wanted that.

Most people located in this region in fact, actually wanted to be here. Truly. They were one of the various great Kingdoms still left, thriving on in their own ways while still being equally successful. Not many people had an issue with that. And if they had wanted to change it, surely, it was a well-kept secret. To speak out against the Ruler, was a grand Sin, and instead of death - one would be subjected to an unfortunate mess of torments.

- Back within the 'Castle' Walls -

The small boy had followed such a devious Ruler, back to his black cathedral of a room. It was created by a grand many stones, shards of rare gems and glass, and his own infection. The grand room was one of dirt grounding inside what looked like a cavern. Things hung from it, or were placed inside of it, to stabilize and encourage its direct beauty. Such a godly room, for just one being. But surely, the being owning this room... well. He was far beyond just that.

The Keeper sat there atop his Throne, which was carved from stone, blasted glass, and the hardened form of the Sin Plague. Truly a magnificent mix of creation and foundation, this place was surely fit for such an over-powering creature. A Crown sand-blasted with a perfection of sleek black almost onyx-looking fixture, was placed atop the Ruler's head. And it sat there in equal beauty to the chair in which he placed himself atop. There at his lap, sitting atop his right thigh, was the small blonde boy, which he used better for things unmentioned throughout time.

A stand of guards were permitted to enter the cavern, all standing tall until they reached their Ruler, and got down onto one knee before their King. They completely ignored the young mutant, and knew better than to ask questions about what their King had dared to keep around. Wanting to live, they only pretended he wasn't a mutant, and never dared to start a single rumor within the city. The trusted twins at the front were probably his most loyal Commanders, with a female behind them, responsible for inflicting damage were they unable to. Behind her were a scarce few others, and none of them would breathe a word.

"Your Excellency," One of the twins said, in his own black and silvery clad armor. This one was a man with massive pale-blue wings, a man with blood-red eyes, and fangs which begged others explanation. A true Abomination in nature, yet, still somehow Angelic. "What will you have us do, with the prisoners brought in from sunset, days ago, this passing week?" He had asked, rather hoping for something bloody.

The King's eyes flashed from blue to white, and he peered down his nose through narrowed eyes at the other male daring to speak to him.

"I will have them publicly slain at the center of the city. Mark my words, they will pay for such insolence." The Ruler said, running his clawed right hand, through the blonde mutant's hair. "Have them tortured and then executed within the hour. I want the whole town to see what happens when traitors are about us."

The twin looked at his white-haired brother, who wore a more Angelic, more innocent appearance. He knew his twin to be of weak mind, and weak heart for such petty fools. So he only flicked his tongue through his fangs at his brother, then rose to his feet with the rest of his Guard behind him.

"As you wish, my Lord of Darkness." He said with a delighted hiss. His lips curled into a smirk, and the sadistic male flared out his strange wings, and offered somewhat of a bow to their Ruler. The others behind him bowed in following, and then turned to make their way out of the King's private Quarters.

The small boy turned to look up at his Ruler, his sad blue eyes now just beneath his own. Reaching out, he touched his Master's face, and then gently climbed up his strength, using his two hands to hold onto his shoulders.

"My Master... what have these people done to have angered you so...?" He whispered gently, running his bruised fingers through his Keeper's shimmering blue hair. "Were they truly so bad, that death is not just enough?" He wondered shakily.

The King gave the lad no response, and only snorted in reply. Instead he forced the boy downwards, so that his small frame sat atop his legs. With a low hiss, that almost sounded like that of a massive serpent, he began to vent his frustrations, out on the frail mutant who knew it had been coming all along. Doing nothing to fight this person whom he'd been enslaved to... whom he even possibly loved... he closed his eyes, and only grit his teeth as he was subjected to several rounds of pain and suffering.

One was not ever to question the Ruler of Defiance. Surely, he were no more special than the rest.

Raal howled with joy. Their horns blew as blood rained down on their location. They had expected a Kret scouting party but instead were greeted by  a full war party. Best of all, Raal thought to himself as he burned his wounds shut, a Chieftain with a full guard.

Standing a full 2 feet over his tallest brethren this monstrosity, towered over the surviving Keallops. In an ear shattering booming voice, his words echoed across the field, “Welcome pitiful false children of the Goddess Sanjeat. Your weapons are weak and your songs are hollow. Kret has chosen me to be your undoing. Run little ones there will be a great culling and you will not be safe.”

Both Kret and Keallop cheered in approval. There would be glory tonight and Raal more then any other wanted the Chieftain’s head.  He had underestimated him earlier. He hadn't recognised his black claws for what they were and had tried to block a swipe from the creature’s massive claw. Raal's scythe had shattered from the blow, losing the young Keallop, his nose, an eye and his genitals in that instant.  The beast’s claws and scales were too strong. If his life wasn't taken soon there would be  only one way this war would end.

Fastening his chain to the remains of the culling blade. He twirled it around him, clearing his path of anyone, Kret or Keallop, that got in his way. His blade sunk into a gap in the beast’s chest. Using it as an anchor Raal looped his hardened chain around his target’s neck and pulled it tight.

“Any last word beast before a Chosen of Sanjeat purifies your miserable life?” Raal whispered into the hole he assumed was for hearing.

The Chieftain stopped fighting abruptly and began to laugh heartily, “My dear Raal you have already been chosen by Kret to be his Champion. You are no longer Sanjeat’s puppet. Rejoice child you will bring about your peoples freedom."


“A brutal little bastard you’ve chosen my Lord. Are you sure he will be enough to kill Zioct?” The Chieftain sat alone the field wrought with blood. The few Kret survivors wandered about hunting done the last surviving Keallops using devices the Keallops had never seen before. “Kill all survivors. We can’t have anyone know of our involvement here. The Usurpers must remain ignorant of us. They must continue to see us as nothing more than vermin."

“Relax Teybra, Raal is the only survivor and he only saw what we wanted him to see.” A voice spoke from inside the Chieftain's shoulder, “Thank you for not killing him by accident, back there. In an instant we almost lost everything.”

“You think he’s ready?” A portal shimmered beside him as he shuffled to his feet.

“No, but that’s the point,” The voice continued to squeak, “He’ll never be ready if we continue to wait.”


Raal woke up outside his hut. His head still spinning. The Kret had said something to him before he blacked out. But he couldn’t be sure. Who was Kret and why was he his champion? Raal shook his head. The Cheiften was speaking a language foregin to Raal’s ears. He must have just misheard. Raal shook his head again. Wait what was it he heard him say again?

Raal’s steps were heavy as fumbled and tumbled his way to the entrance. Suddenly an image popped into his head. Raal had opened a dark hole in the sky just before he had blacked out. But how… Raal's eye focused on the large claw protruding from his hut. “Greetings, once again child.” His blood suddenly ran cold for the first time in his life Raal knew fear. “It’s a nice home you have here,” the Chieftain stood tall breaking apart the hut with his body.

Raal sounded his horn with all ofhis might but there was no reply. The army was still fighting the Kret it seemed. The only ones left were the ones who could not fight and the disciple tasked with purifying the priestesses.  Raal hissed under his breath for a brief moment he actually considered forcing them to help. Cooperating with sinners. Raal shuddered a pure death was better then living a sinner.