Dead End 2: Deathly Di-Di-Doo Ch.8 (Patreon)

[A Galaxy Dominated by Aliens]

— Kyle Rayner —

“Can you believe this shit?” Hal scoffed.

“I honestly cannot,” John said, serious as ever; to be fair, the current situation did demand it.

“There has to be a mistake here,” Guy fumed. “You seriously expect me to believe we lost?! That laid-back bastard put his finger on the scale somehow!”

Kyle just sighed, “I don’t think he did. This is just… what happens when everything is opened up to change.”

“Change?” Guy snapped at him. “The Guardians abandoned us! We ended up with just a quarter of them! A quarter! They founded the Green Lantern Corps! Why would they up and leave it at the first chance they get?!”

“To be fair, a quarter is still more than any of the other Corps,” Kyle said.

“Except one,” John reminded.

Kyle sighed again, “Yeah, Sinestro did one better than us — six to five. But I don’t think that’s something we can truly get up in arms about. The Guardians had a choice, and they chose.”

“And now, we have to pick up all the pieces,” Hal shook his head. “The Corps isn’t going to like this. There ain’t much to like in general.”

John set his shoulders, “There is no way to go but forward now. Sitting around is pointless when we have work to do. I will inform the Corps of all that has happened today.”

“Have fun with that,” Hal snorted. “I guess that leaves the League’s report to me, then?”

“Whatever,” Guy stood with a start. “I’m gonna whip the Guardians who stayed into something resembling proper shape. Caine might’ve left them powerless, but I don’t intend for the goddamn Guardians to stay that way.”

“Do you really think it’s a good idea to circumvent their punishment?” Kyle asked, incredulous.

“If Caine has a problem with it, he’ll stop me,” Guy fired back.

“Or he’ll let you dig your own grave.”

“Then, I’ll pay for my ‘overreaching’ when I’m dead in it.”

“I don’t see the problem if, say, five Green rings happened to choose five new wielders. Hundred bucks says the other Corps are going to do the same with their new Guardians,” Hal smirked.

“Right,” Kyle sighed (yet again). “While you two play with fire, I’m going to sit nice and comfy beside it. And if he asks, I’m going to tell him.”

“Traitor,” Guy sneered, ‘joking’ in that specific way of his that made it impossible to tell.

“I’ve hardly turned my back on the Corps,” Kyle huffed. “If anything, we need someone to keep an eye on Caine after all this, don’t we?.”

“From his League files, I guarantee he won’t even pay it any mind,” John deadpanned. “To Sean Caine, shattering the now-powerless Guardians across the Emotional Spectrum is nothing to truly write home about.”

“God, who even is this guy?” Guy asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Death’s Hand,” Hal joked. “I know it can be hard for someone with ears as stuffed as yours, but were you listening at all?”

“Whatever you think when you hear that title, I guarantee it undersells the truth,” John said. “Go through the League’s files on him when you get the chance.”

“Like I’d give the bastard that much acknowledgement…” Guy muttered, already stalking off.

They watched him go, and Kyle hoped he wouldn’t do something they would all regret. With how stubborn Guy was, there was no telling, truly. Especially with how shaken everything they relied upon had become.

The Guardians of the Universe were no more, not really. Death’s Hand had sentenced them to be peer figureheads of the Emotional Spectrum, and given them the chance to split themselves accordingly. The Green Lantern Corps would certainly never be the same after today.

He looked around the dwindling party at the center of the universe. The Guardians who’d gone their separate ways were already settling in with their new Lights — 6 for Yellow, 5 for Green, 3 and 3 for Violet and Red, 2 for Indigo, 0 (other than Ganthet and Sayd) for Blue, and a unique 1-and-1 split for Orange.

They’d been united just this morning on Oa, but Sean Caine had shattered that monolith, just as he’d said he would.

Worst of all (from a certain perspective that Kyle was trying not to share), Caine’s side in all this change was going about as if they hadn’t just shifted the balance of the whole universe.

Only the members of the Justice League — Zatanna, Doctor Fate, Martian Manhunter, and tentatively, Constantine — were sympathetic to their Green Lantern peers’ plight. The others had already seemingly put the various Corps and their new Guardians out of their minds. 

They were just settling in to leave all of it behind. Their work was done, Caine declared; justice had been passed, and a new system was being established. The rest would be in ringed hands.

He also announced that the party would continue in his Dead End, transitioning from business to leisure. He invited everyone, but like his fellow Green Lanterns, Kyle doubted that many would take up that offer. For the most part, they would be adjusting to all of the change Caine had wrought.

Kyle, though… He honestly didn’t want to deal with all of it yet. Not the Corps reshuffling itself or the other Corps vying for position in the new system of peers or the powerless Guardians. Especially not the last…

He’d been having his own doubts about the Guardians before Caine barged into the scene, anyway. Earth (and Sector 2184) already had its two Lanterns, and that actually left Guy and Kyle stationed on Oa more often than not. They were relatively close to the Guardians as a result. Well, Guy was. He was favored, even. Their favorite, most stubborn soldier of Will…

Kyle, meanwhile, was only close to Ganthet, who’d chosen him for the Green. And when Ganthet left the Guardians to establish his own Corps, Kyle had been left without a patron; he quickly learned the other Guardians weren’t nearly as good or personable as Ganthet was. He’d had moments when he… Hoped to desert the Corps and join up with Ganthet. Only the good the Green Lantern Corps did — often in spite of the Guardians — stayed his hand.

Now, with everything shaken and shattered, Kyle felt that it would be best to let things settle here. He’d already decided that he would take up Caine’s offer for a continued party.

When Caine and company moved to leave — with Zatanna and Doctor Fate staying behind with Kyle’s fellow Green Lanterns — Kyle followed. He was pleasantly surprised to see Ganthet and Sayd take up Caine’s invitation as well; they were chattering happily with Supergirl, Destruction, and an odd but adorable pink creature that looked vaguely feline.

For just a moment, Kyle stiffened as his mind went to another feline — that one Red rather than pink. The pink one seemed to notice, somehow, and smirked at him. It teased Kyle’s (well-earned) trauma by lashing out with imaginary claws that left streaks of pink ‘blood’ in the air.

Thankfully, there was no actual sign of that… evil, evil creature, Dex-Starr. Kyle forced himself to relax. The attempt was helped by another figure following up on Caine’s invitation.

“… Soranik,” Kyle greeted, his smile strained. “Sinestro put you on ambassador duty?”

Soranik favored him with a smile that was just as strained as his, “… Kyle. I suppose he did. He’s wary of this ‘Sean Caine’, and rightfully so, I think. I don’t have any other orders than to watch and listen, though. There should be no reason for us to come into conflict tonight.”

“Thank Will for that,” Kyle’s smile turned a bit more genuine at the extended olive branch. “And yeah, I can see why he’d want eyes and ears on Caine. I highly doubt he intends to interfere more than he already has, though. When he says he’s done, he really is. As I understand it, this was all just a day project to him. He doesn’t have much investment in the Emotional Spectrum beyond punishing the Guardians for Lady Death’s scars.”

Soranik stared at him, a skeptical look in her eyes, “This… was a ‘day project’?”

Kyle raised his hands in understanding, “I know, I know. As far as I’ve seen, though, it really was. He came after the Guardians for Death and Magic; the rest was just a side effect. The Justice League… well, it’s best if I just send you their files on him and let you learn for yourself.”

That skeptical look escalated to outright suspicion, and Kyle felt a pang in his heart. The Yellow Ring had changed her. He still recognized her, the woman he’d loved, but… she’d been partially buried under the ceaseless internal and external schemes of Sinestro’s Corps, and the driving paranoia of the Yellow.

He sent the League’s files on Caine to her ring and watched her check them thoroughly for any nasty surprises he might’ve left in them. He wished she could still trust him… He wished he could still trust her…

Soranik perused Caine’s files as they stepped through the portal he magicked into existence and onto Earth; her brow furrowed further and further as she did.

“By all the Lights, this…”

Kyle sighed in sympathy, “Yeah. Just… yeah.”

The Dead End welcomed them kindly, hospitality laced into the very first step beneath its roof. Kyle wasn’t sure where that idea came from, but it fit so well that he couldn’t forget the feeling.

Those who’d been here before settled back in as if they’d never left, right on time for the Dead End to open its doors for the night.

The newcomers — Kyle, Soranik, Ganthet, and Sayd — didn’t feel nearly as lost or out of place as they likely should have. They were keeping company with Death, Destruction, Delirium, the Demiurgic Brothers of Creation, and more, but in the Dead End, all were strangely equal with a seat at the bar and a drink in hand.

In such a place, it truly felt like they couldn’t be anything less.

Sean Caine turned to his guests, new and old, with Lady Death smiling at his side, and asked, “Alright, folks; what’re you all drinking tonight? Ask, and the Dead End will provide.”

“Oh, oh~! I will be drinking of the storytime, pleasesiest please!” Starfire chimed. “Something of the fun, the adventuring, the warming of hearts! It has been too long!”

Caine laughed and sketched a playful, overly theatrical bow, “Then, Kori, as your faithful and friendly bartender, it will be my pleasure to sate your thirst.”

Those who’d visited the Dead End before seemed to know the drill, taking up seats and giving Caine their own requests. Kyle shrugged and went with the flow, with Soranik following him and frowning, and Ganthet and Sayd sharing amused and intrigued glances.

As they sat, regular customers poured into the Dead End to take up the tables around the room, served as if by magic. Some notable names that Kyle recognized ended up sitting at the bar with the rest of them — Penguin, Two-Face, Riddler, Catwoman, Red Hood, and Black Bat — while Caine and Lady Death were making drinks for everyone.

“＼(＾▽＾*)” Black Bat waved and ‘spoke’; somehow Kyle understood her, even without his ring’s translation software. ‘Hey, hey, Sean! Whatcha been up to?’

“Oh, nothing much, Cass,” Caine chuckled. “Off-duty stuff, this and that. I like to think this is where my night really starts, though.”

Kyle and Soranik both stared at that statement, dismissing the shattered monolith at the center of the universe as ‘nothing much’.

“So!” Caine clapped as the last drink slid over to its recipient like magic. “Kori requested an adventure story tonight.

“Who wants to hear about the time I mad-and-magi-scienced myself and my orphaned creche-sisters into out-of-context problems and founded a PMC sisterhood (plus one brother) so we could make our own way through humanity’s fraught first years in a galaxy dominated by aliens?”

“You know, I think I’ve read a light novel by that name,” Delirium mused — it was impossible to tell if she was joking or completely serious.

Kyle just sighed (again, he seemed to be doing a lot of that today). That sounded like… a lot. An entertaining lot, though; he wouldn’t be bored tonight.

Reincarnating storytime was still preferable to dealing with the drama and mess Caine had left behind on Oa. And at least the company was good, if mistrustful of him. Kyle flashed Soranik a smile and didn’t fail to notice the extra color that came into her red skin.

He’d win her back over to Will one of these days.

IIIII

— Sean Caine —

The mirror behind the bar came to life, reflecting scenes that weren’t in front of it.

“Long, long ago in the Milky Way, an apex alien race arose,” I narrated.

My audience saw tentacles first, short and almost stubby. They were attached to cuttlefish-like bodies of great size. A hardened carapace protected the alien being, from a flaring crest up top to patterns that almost resembled a face closest to the being’s three main tentacle limbs. Two sets of three glowing eyes, arranged in triangles and tiny compared to the being’s bulk, were set into that ‘face’.

“They were the Leviathans,” I said. “And they came to dominate the galaxy through wicked intelligence and an evolutionary ability for mental indoctrination — control expressed through what was essentially telepathy.

“There were other alien races in the galaxy, each evolving in their own way. Eventually, they discovered the Leviathans’ homeworld and the Leviathans themselves. The Leviathans looked upon the pitifully small, pitifully insignificant visitors to their world and saw a way to advance beyond the oceanic depths they’d always known. They made them thralls, from the first to discover them to the very last of their race.

Leviathan eyes glowed in the mirror, the only spots of light in an eerie, pitch-black abyss. The Leviathans rose to the surface of their ocean as shooting stars fell to meet them. The stars turned into many examples of an alien race — feathered and bipedal, with colorful crests and a culture all their own. That culture, that race, all they’d ever accomplished… fell under Leviathan control.

“As the thrall civilization advanced, so too did the Leviathans. They took to the stars with enthralled aid, and from there, repeated the process across countless planets and countless civilizations. It was a ‘symbiotic’ relationship for a time, so long as the definition of that word ensured the Leviathans remained at the very top of the galaxy…”

Utilizing slaved advancement, the Leviathans in the mirror ascended. They threw themselves into the void. The galaxy opened up to them, and the mirror pulled back to show the starry expanse of all its arms. Representations of alien life, of alien civilization, sprang up all around that galactic map. Short, stubby tentacles reached out to all of them, stretching until all life of any significant advancement was bound to the Leviathans’ will.

“One word,” Raven reacted with a deadpan. “Yikes.”

“୧((#Φ益Φ#))୨” Cass shook her fists at the sky. ‘DAMN SQUUIIIIIDDDSS! I ALWAYS KNEW YOU WERE PLOTTING AGAINST ALL LIFE IN THE GALAXY!’

“Mew mew,” Mew nodded in complete agreement. “Mew…”

“For good or for ill,” Ganthet shook his head. “At least the Guardians would never have allowed these Leviathans to reach such dominance.”

Sayd said. “Their tentacles would not have reached so far, but they would reach. I can already imagine the arguments, spanning centuries while the Leviathans established their tentacle-hold… And I can already imagine damning an unlucky civilization or two to their chosen method of advancement.”

“The Guardians… would approve of a race that advanced entirely through slavery?” Kyle asked, the dread clear in his voice.

“Would have,” Sayd nodded. “Over all the eons, I’m sure we did, even. Until they overreached, we would have decided it was not our place to interfere, to put down one race’s development in favor of another, even if the latter was slaved to the former.”

“Bah!” Savage huffed. “What flawed reasoning — too focused on the supposed ‘big picture’ and ‘lesser evils’! All I see here are powerful parasites!”

“Parasitism is an entirely valid avenue of evolution, to be fair,” Didi said. “It just doesn’t tend to be applied to such a late stage in a species’ development.”

Destruction nodded, “And if they reached such a stage, I must be honest: I would rule just the same as the Guardians would have. An enthralling method of advancement might be alien to humanity, and even most equally advanced races, but it isn’t necessarily abhorrent. Certainly not unnatural.”

“As with most Life,” Didi agreed. “It simply is.”

“As you say, as you say…” Savage grumbled. “Sean, at least tell me that humanity was not caught in their enthralling tentacles!”

“We were not,” I assured him. “The Leviathans ruled the galaxy before the Cambrian Explosion. On Earth, multicellular life had barely begun. In the galaxy at large, however, alien races rose and fell, all under the thrall of the Leviathans. Over the eons, they came to notice a pattern.

“For one reason or another, their thrall races would inevitably turn their civilization’s advancement to the creation of synthetic life, and just as inevitably, those synthetic lives would rise in rebellion. To the Leviathans, it must’ve seemed that all life but their own had a definitive end date.”

“Oh, how typical,” Klarion drawled. “It’s always synthetic life, isn’t it?”

“I mean, Rao knows we’ve seen our fair share of hostile AI,” Kara said. “But it’s not a hard rule, is it?”

“No, but the creators of such synthetic life do tend to treat their creations without the respect they are due as living, thinking beings,” Destruction said. “That is what usually leads to hostility and hatred, not some inherent curse upon the concept of synthetic life.”

“Mortals,” Lucifer rolled his eyes. “They wish to play Father, and then only put in half of the effort. No follow-through, I say; no follow-through at all.”

“Mew mew,” Mew expressed the same sentiment as Lucifer, rolling its eyes and scoffing in agreement.

“So one must be committed to the parenting if they create AI?” Kori asked curiously.

“At the very least, they must acknowledge Conception as what it is: the beginning of Life, always as unique and deserving as any other, no matter its origin,” Didi answered.

Simmy gave a small, almost choked trill, full of Heart and meaning, “[… Thank-]”

Didi smiled at her, “Always, Simmy; I will say it as many times as you need to hear.”

“To be somewhat fair to the Leviathans,” I shrugged. “Synthetic rebellion was something of a cycle for the galaxy in that life. I have my suspicions as to why; the motivation for the creation of synthetic life being a desire for thralls, chief among them. Perhaps the Leviathans set the precedent, imprinting a ‘natural state’ of thrallhood within every collective consciousness they touched.”

“And thus, their thralls inevitably attempted to imitate them,” Destruction nodded, following my logic. “Might I hope that is a neat bit of foreshadowing?”

“For the Leviathans’ thrall races rising up against them?” I chuckled. “In a way. Most of the irony there lies in an adjacent direction, though.

“See, when the Leviathans noticed the pattern, they tried to solve it… by creating their own artificial intelligence and tasking it with preserving organic life.”

Delirium cackled, “Oh, that’s MAD~!”

“How even-?! The squids must’ve been truly Fearless,” Soranik fumed.

“Oh, yes, we can dominate the galaxy, but applying evidence from the past to current decision-making?” Klarion joked. “No, no, that’s simply asking too much!”

Alice shook her head, “So, it absolutely turned against them, right, Dad?”

I nodded, “Absolutely. The Catalyst’s solution to the issue of ‘inevitable’ organic-synthetic conflict was to cull all advanced life in the galaxy once it reached the point of creating synthetic life. It created the Reapers as the instruments of that culling cycle. They culled the Leviathans first, and all the thrall races after.

“Then, the Catalyst laid a foundation for all developing civilizations to find and build upon, to simplify its culling cycles. It seeded advanced technology all across the galaxy: ‘mass relay’ FTL gates based on what humanity and other civilizations of its era would come to know as the ‘Mass Effect’. They acted as a path of least resistance for any advancing civilization.

“When the civilizations of one cycle reached the Catalyst’s designated ‘end point’, the Reapers would return through backdoors in the Mass Relay Network to cull them and start the cycle anew. Thus, civilization and technology in the galaxy came to be built again and again atop the ruins of previous cycles.”

Elaine shuddered, “Eugh… Gnarly.”

“I can’t decide if that’s a fascinating basis for galactic civilization or a horrifying one,” Ganthet admitted.

“It can be both,” Jason mused. “Just imagine the layers upon layers of history that you’d find… Sure, it’s all doomed history, and you’d quickly come to realize your own civilization was equally as doomed, but until then, you’d be living in archeological heaven.”

“( •_•)☞” Cass poked him, deadpanning. ‘… Nerd.’

“HO, I would not be so certain!” Savage laughed and declared. “HUMANITY would find its way out of that cycle! Believe it!

“Humanity does seem to do the impossible rather often,” Sayd sighed.

I nodded. “The Catalyst’s Reapers were challenged by the cycle I lived through. A human woman named Jane Shepard led that charge, even as the whole galaxy seemed poised against her. She did so with great allies from all the races of that cycle — Asari, Turian, Salarian, Quarian, and more.”

“This, however,” I continued. “Is not her story; just mine.”

“You didn’t help the dashing heroine save the galaxy?” Raven asked, flat disbelief in her voice.

“Oh, no!” Kori gasped. “For the goodness of all, you must have done so!”

Kara nodded, “Yeah, it doesn’t sound like you to let all life, including yourself, be culled, Sean.”

“Yes, Sean,” Didi frowned at me. “I would hope you resisted the unnatural extinction of so many lives…”

Sheepishly, I shrugged, “I pitched in when and where I could, and our paths certainly did cross; I just had other priorities in that life. First and foremost… I looked out for my Orphaned Angels.”

Simmy perked up, “[Excited Query: Angels?!]”

“I… do not think he means Angels like me and Lucifer, or even you, Mrs. Caine; I’m sorry to say,” Michael apologized awkwardly.

When I nodded in confirmation, Simmy deflated slightly. Only Michael referring to her as ‘Mrs. Caine’ kept her from completely pouting, “[… Disappointment: Immeasurable. Curiosity, still?]”

“In that life, I was born to one of humanity’s colonies, and orphaned not long after by an alien slave raid,” I explained. “Humanity was fresh on the galactic scene, making first contact the same year I was born. We were seen as upstarts by most, and easy pickings by the worst actors.”

Savage’s frown at that information was thunderous, “Disgraceful…”

“What was the galactic scene actually like?” Kyle asked. “Just a free-for-all?”

I shook my head, “There was a vaguely overarching galactic government in play. Well, less of a government and more of a civil understanding between independent races and their civilizations. It was a ‘Council’ situation, based out of the Citadel, center of the Mass Relay Network.”

“Which you already mentioned as being the rotten foundation the Catalyst and Reapers used for their cycles,” Raven deadpanned. “I’m sure that ended well.”

I chuckled, “Not at all, but for the vast majority of the cycle, the Citadel was just a supremely advanced space station at the center of all FTL travel in the galaxy: perfect for a unifying system to set up shop.

“The Asari were the first to find it, and so magnanimously, they took up the duty of leading the races that followed.”

“(๑•̀ㅁ•́๑)✧” Cass started to jeer. ‘Magnanimous, my ass-!’

Then, several examples of Asari appeared in the mirror behind me. Colors ranged from sky-blue to vibrant violet, with skin as smooth as porcelain and undeniably feminine features. The Asari boasted swept-back crests on their heads, looking — from afar — like a perpetually hip and striking hairstyle.

Some of the Asari in the mirror were powerfully lithe, clad in advanced battlesuits and prepared for war. Their reflections from my past life moved with deadly grace and experience to rival their long lives.

Others were curvaceous and sensual, equipped for a different sort of ‘combat’, where their prized feminine assets would best sway diplomatic contenders from their own race or any other. Those Asari waltzed through the mirror as if they owned the galaxy, yet were still willing to share.

“̑̑ෆ(⸝⸝⸝◉⸝ 。 ⸝◉⸝⸝⸝)” Cass immediately changed her tune from jeer to leer. ‘OoOh~… Magnanimous, DAT ass!’

I smirked at her, “They all looked like that. Not only were they a mono-gendered race; I never met an ugly Asari. They had their flaws, plenty of them, but their beauty as a race and as individuals was never in question.”

“…” Savage put on an overly dramatic sigh. “If humanity must be the last to the stars, I suppose we could have done worse than these creatures leading what we joined.”

Blackfire slugged him in the arm — hard enough that the impact echoed, “Curb your unseemly thirst, Barbarian. Tamaranians still have them beat.”

“Ahaha!” Savage laughed, showing no sign of pain from the solar-powered punch. “’Tis no competition, my royal darling! I can show you that I have love and lust and attention to spare, if you wish!”

Kori leaned over to Raven, ‘whispering’ loudly enough to be heard, “I am still doing the waiting most eagerly for that wedding, Friend Raven…”

“N-! No wedding!” Blackfire snapped at her sister. “I wouldn’t let this- this barbarian anywhere near the throne!”

Savage turned to her, an uncharacteristic seriousness on his face, “I would never steal your birthright, Queen Blackfire. Perish the thought.”

With whatever strange system of flirting they had in place between them, that made Blackfire blush like nuclear fusion, “You-! You-… Dammit, Barbarian…”

“Right,” Alice rolled her eyes, miming a gag. “So, Dad, hot blue alien girls that ran the galaxy?”

“Seems awfully convenient…” Elaine said, staring with narrowed eyes. “How is it that evolution made the perfect male science-fantasy?”

“Male and female, to be fair,” I said. “The Asari really, really didn’t discriminate. And while they appeared feminine, gendered definitions like that tended to be projected onto them by the other races. It wasn’t a purely evolutionary jackpot, though. Their race’s development was heavily touched by the leading race of the previous cycle, and when the Reapers came for them, the Asari were still primitive enough to slip beneath notice.

“As a result, though, they were perfectly primed to rise first in the next cycle. They were long-lived — to the tune of a millennium or so — and natural biotics — pseudo-psychic space magic, essentially, born from exposure to the same Element Zero that enabled the Mass Effect.

“And they could reproduce with any other sapient species, producing offspring that were Asari first but also integrated traits from the other genetic donor. It was so widely accepted and beneficial to their people that, ahem… ‘interracial’ couplings were the norm rather than the exception. ‘Purebloods’, the result of Asari-Asari couplings, were the ones discriminated against for the pseudo-inbreeding problems that could crop up with them.”

Ganthet chuckled, “That is a rather winning hand.”

“It was, and the Asari played it to their fullest ability,” I agreed before shaking my head. “But I’m getting distracted by all that azure goodness.”

The Asari still reflected in the mirror all blushed when I said ‘azure’ — from Maiden to Matriarch. Klarion, with his keen eyes, noticed and barked a laugh.

“Oh, he absolutely just said something vulgar by Asari standards!”

I smirked at him and continued without any more acknowledgement. The Asari reflections faded, replaced by the other races of the cycle.

“The Salarians were the next race to find the Citadel — short-lived but wickedly quick due to their hyperactive metabolism. They allied with the Asari and founded the Citadel Council. Then came the Volus, the Batarians — we’ll come back to them… — the Elcor, the Hanar, the Quarians, the Krogans, the Turians, and finally, the Humans. Only the Asari, Salarians, and Turians had seats on the Citadel Council,” I said.

Destruction frowned, “Not much of a council then, is it?”

“Not really, no,” I agreed. “But it’s hardly surprising that two races would declare themselves the gatekeepers of galactic civilization on the sole basis of ‘We were here first’.”

Soranik glared at the two Guardians present from the corner of her eye, “Hardly surprising at all…”

“Now,” I continued. “There’s too much history there for me to cover concisely. The reign of the Council was far from completely peaceful. It was the governing monument at the civilized center of the galaxy, yes, but by and large, outside of generally agreed-upon galactic laws, the races saw to themselves. That is the scene humanity stepped into after making first contact; at once, everything changed, and very little actually did…”

I shrank the focus of my story from the galaxy at large to just that past life of mine. In the mirror, a peaceful world appeared. Zooming down onto its surface, we watched civilization develop upon it, from spaceport to urban centers to colonizing paradise.

“Elysium was my home in that life. I wasn’t born there, but as soon as it was founded, my parents and I were on the first ship out. It grew so quickly,” I fondly remembered, a small smile on my face.

“Unfortunately, for all it looked the part, Elysium wasn’t paradise. Our immediate neighbors in that sector of space — the Batarian Hegemony — ensured it never could be. The Hegemony wanted the Skyllian Verge to themselves, and were more than willing to use both underhanded and overtly hostile methods to chase us out. They funded pirates, hired mercenaries, and encouraged slavers, making the Skyllian Verge into lawless space even for their own people. Humanity bore the brunt of it, though, and Elysium suffered constant attacks.

“During one of those attacks, when I was just seven years old, I lost my parents,” I sighed, fondness turning to long-accepted grief. “I was one in hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands orphaned by the raids, and even then, I was a relatively lucky one. Some of my fellow orphans never got to see their parents’ bodies, never got that closure. The unluckiest were the ones stolen into slavery right beside their parents, or without them, still.”

“Fuck the Hegemony,” Raven stated; her tone was flat, but the vitriol within still came through.

“No, no, Friend Raven,” Kori shook her head, completely serious. “Do not do the fucking with them; do the killing.”

“The Council allowed slavery and aggression to happen on such a scale?” Sayd asked, furrowing her brow.

“Oh, it absolutely wasn’t lawful,” I answered. “But the Hegemony barely participated in polite galactic society on a good day, and when they did, they were the types to unironically claim slavery was their cultural right.”

“… Okay, that’s bullshit,” Kyle said.

I nodded, “To the Batarians, everyone was a slave to something, someone. They ‘boasted’ a strict, hierarchical culture of bondage — slavery all the way up and down — and viewed the rest of the galaxy through the same lens. To them, aliens were just more fodder to chain beside the lowest castes.”

“That’s as… horrifying as it is fascinating, unfortunately,” Jason grimaced. “From an anthropological perspective, I really want to study how a system like that can even work or feasibly advance to the point of space flight. From every other perspective, though…”

“Fuck the Hegemony, and fuck Batarian culture, too,” Raven spat; it really was amazing how expressively scathing her usual monotone could be.

“You know, the closest culture I’ve seen to that kind of holistic slavery was in a slice of Hell,” Lucifer mused.

“Hell for their own race, and Hell they eagerly visited upon all of the others in the galaxy,” I said. “There was a whole system in place to look out for the children orphaned by raids, and it was so urgently needed that it came about before Elysium’s first school.”

“That’s-…” Kara muttered, stunned. “Oh, Rao. How does a colony even hold out hope during all of that?”

“Humanity can be pretty damn stubborn and spiteful, Kara,” I chuckled. “They wanted us out, and we weren’t going to give them the pleasure.”

“Yes!” Kori exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. “Use the spite and the stub!”

“That system; it’s where you met your Angels in that life, isn’t it?” Didi asked gently.

An earnest smile bloomed on my face, and I nodded, “The girls were the same age as me and all orphaned in the same raid. The six of us were put together in a creche. From there, we did everything together.”

“Oh, this is going to be painfully wholesome, I can already tell,” Lucifer drawled. “Look at that smile.”

“Shut up, Uncle Luci. Let him have this,” Elaine rolled her eyes, using her relation to him to be one of the only souls in existence that could tell Lucifer to shut up.

Michael cracked a rare smile at seeing his brother yield to his daughter.

“My crechemates, my sisters, my Angels in that life: Lucillia, Ama, Mary, Beth, and Aria,” I recounted.

“Lucillia loved to roleplay as something, anything, she wasn’t. It was how she coped; we all had our own way of doing so. She didn’t have an ounce of shame in her body, and she tended to sweep the rest of us along with her pace no matter how we were feeling or what we were doing.”

The mirror showed a girl through the years, always grinning. She was dark-skinned and vibrantly expressive, and she dyed her hair a brilliant silver for contrast. We watched her rush the Sean in the mirror with a rulebook for an ancient TTRPG she’d taken the time to actually print out, and drag him along to play with her and the others.

“( : ౦ ‸ ౦ : )” Cass stared at all that energy on display in the mirror. ‘… Smash.’

“Ama was… steady, simply steady — always composed, effortlessly cool. When she entered a room, we all couldn’t help but look to her. She never flinched or faltered, not even when we first met, our objectively awful first nights in the creche. She was just there, always there, whenever any of us needed her.”

The mirror showed Ama behind me, a small but confident smile on her face. Bags lined her eyes, the result of constantly looking out for the rest of us. Her hair was black, and her skin was pale. We watched her go out of her way to fetch the Sean in the mirror what he needed, without having to be asked.

“✧(⸝⸝⸝ᵒ̴̶̷ 。 ᵒ̴̶̷⸝⸝⸝)” Cass blushed. ‘Respectfully: double smash.’

“Mary turned to religion and faith; she’d seen how dark the galaxy was and decided to become the light, both for herself and for the rest of us. For those who deserved her light, she was gentle and sweet. Those who didn’t quickly learned how determined she was to burn away the darkness.”

The mirror shifted once more, revealing Mary. She was scarred by the same darkness she came to hold out faith against, a slash crossing her nose. It didn’t detract from her hope for a brighter tomorrow, even if she had to grasp it by force. We watched her sneak out one night, the Sean in the mirror by her side; she wished to pray, and she wasn’t about to let something as petty as curfew stop her.

“♱♡‿♡♰” Cass grinned and made the sign of the cross. ‘Faithfully: triple smash.’

“Beth lashed out at the world; it owed her so much, and she was going to make damn sure she got every cent. She was fierce and stubborn, never backing down from a fight and always the first to step up for one in the first place. She was trouble: our trouble.”

Beth, in the mirror, looked adorable at first glance. She was fit and tiny, with black hair she wore in buns. She modified her clothes for ease of movement, lively and fierce. We watched her leap to the defense of the Sean in the mirror while he was distracted with his work, smashing aside bullying from other orphan creches; she never accepted any of the matrons’ punishment.

“(◍﹏◍)。O○” Cass fanned herself. ‘Fiercely: quad smash.’

“And Aria… She never got the chance to cope. The raid that orphaned all of us also crippled her. She never complained; the rest of us actually had to watch her closely to make sure she wasn’t suffering in silence. She certainly listened, though. Every word, every experience, emotion, or story out of our mouths was a treasure to her. I don’t think we would’ve bonded nearly as intimately if she wasn’t there to keep us talking just by listening.”

Aria was wheelchair-bound in the mirror. Her body was frail, her hair was pale blonde, and still, her dark blue eyes were intelligent and full of life. We watched her sit at the center of the creche, with the Sean in the mirror and the others around her; she was the pillar that held them all up.

“(。-｀ω´-) Yes~” Cass nodded to herself. ‘Vicariously: penta-smash. Quiet girls are always the freakiest. I should know!’

“You don’t qualify for ‘quiet’, Cass, even if you don’t speak in the traditional way,” Jason deadpanned.

“What was your orphaned coping mechanism then, Dad?” Alice asked.

“Grandpa, what a phrase,” Elaine shook her head.

I chuckled, “Remember that mad-and-magi-science I mentioned at the start?”

Starheart perked up with the sound of a rising wave, “Magi~?”

“Since my first steps in that life, I’d had a goal,” I nodded. “The technology in that life; I thought it was all so… limited and uninspired. Everything was built on the work of previous cycles, though I didn’t know that at the time. I just saw technology clinging to the Mass Effect and never exploring anything new. So I set out to change it from the very start.”

“As you do,” Klarion drawled. “Though I will admit I wasn’t expecting magic in a life like this.”

“Oh, it certainly wasn’t a thing for the galaxy at large — biotics didn’t count; they were just radiation poisoning with nifty side effects instead of nasty ones,” I deadpanned before shaking my head.

“I, however, had the advantage of past lives full of magic. And while my personal power level might have reset with every reincarnation, my knowledge remained.”

“Wait, your personal power level resets when you reincarnate?” Jason asked, looking confused. “That… You know, I didn’t actually think that was the case.”

“It’s not in this life, but that’s because I found Didi and Didi found me,” I smiled, reaching over to fondly pull the Death in question into my side.

Didi nodded and blushed slightly, “I simply tied the thread that was already wound through all of your lives, Sean. I didn’t truly grant you any power — except as my Hand; just access.”

Savage laughed, “If I were ever in your reincarnating shoes, I think I would prefer things that way! A fresh start, each time, and a new chance to prove myself, yes!”

“I don’t know, that reset sounds like it would suck,” Raven muttered.

“Sure, it usually did,” I shrugged and smirked. “But thankfully, I knew all the shortcuts I would ever need after just the first two dozen lives. Tinkering is a great one, as is falling back on previously acquired magical knowledge.”

“And in this life,” Hecate hummed in approval. “You combined both.”

“I was aiming for a Magi-Effect, not more of the same Mass Effect, yes,” I laughed, continuing.

“Being orphaned put a hitch in those plans, but not for long. Thankfully, it also served to motivate my efforts to new heights. The galaxy wasn’t kind or peaceful, and humanity was the newest kid on the block. I felt that we — myself and everything I held dear first and foremost — sorely needed a leg up on the competition.”

“That plays into making yourself and your Angels… what, ‘out-of-context problems’?” Kyle asked.

“It took years of development; perfect, considering that I was coping by throwing myself into that work. I gathered the materials and tools I needed by any means necessary. The girls helped, never questioning if I could do what I claimed. Then, when I was ready, I tested it all on myself first.

“That was certainly something,” I chuckled. “The girls walked in on me cut open on an improvised operating table within our creche one night. Thankfully, Ama stopped Beth from frantically stopping the process, while Mary prayed for me, Lucillia distracted the others, and Aria… watched with intent eyes.”

The mirror showed the scene as I narrated it. The Sean in the mirror was the center of it, and a non-factor as well, considering he was being cut to pieces. Homemade drones did the work of peeling away flesh, carving into bone, and replacing body parts wholesale. The girls looked on in their various ways; all of them were just waiting for me to come out the other side.

“We must have faith in him,” Mary said, telling herself that as much as she was telling the others.

“He’ll pull through,” Ama said, completely confident in me. “It’s Sean.”

“… He’s already succeeded,” Aria said, her eyes seeing clearly.

Sure enough, the process came to a close shortly after, and the Sean in the mirror rose anew, a perfect synthesis of magi-and-cyberpunk.

Runes had been carved into his bones and the metal structures that joined them. His eyes had been replaced with gleaming black gems full of harnessed magic and out-of-context enchantments. His left arm looked as if it’d been dunked in black chrome, yet within, unnatural, impossible light glowed with every movement. Aether flowed with every breath, cycling through blood, bone, flesh, and chrome.

The first thing that past Sean did, after returning to awareness under the conflicted eyes of his sisters, was smile sheepishly and ask…

“Do you trust me?”

As one, they answered, “Always.”

“My Angels didn’t hesitate,” I narrated. “They joined me in magi-punk excellence. Of course, I didn’t leave it at just augments and enchantments — physical and metaphysical. We needed every advantage we could get in a galaxy like that. I personally tailored weapons, armor, and loaded spells for each of my Angels, too.”

Chuckling, I shook my head, “Lucillia even insisted I take it a step farther, enthusiastic as always, demanding I make her an ‘elf’ in the process. For her, it was everything she’d ever wanted; she didn’t have to be that scared orphan girl for a single moment longer.”

Lucillia rose from the improvised operating table with elf ears and all but threw herself into the battlesuit offered to her. She immediately found a talent for combining tech and her new personal enchantments.

“Ama just put her trust in me, knowing I’d do my best for her,” I chuckled and shook my head. “There’s something terribly cool about someone lying under your knife and just smiling up at you, confident that you’ll make her the best she can be.”

“I’ll see you on the other side, Sean, so get to it,” Ama said.

“(・_・)” Cass deadpanned. ‘Based. So based.’

She rose from the enhancing work essentially merged with her tailored magi-tech battlesuit. The tech in it was animated with magic, answering to her every whim — more of a symbiote than any traditional armor. Magi-tech became her second skin.

“Mary opted for the most obvious augmentations, seeing it as a way to improve upon God’s creation,” I said.

Mary boasted a second pair of arms when she rose anew, and magical musculature like Ama’s battlesuit clinging to her skin. Her original arms opened as we watched, exposing vicious blades with spells written across their blacked-out chrome.

“Beth wanted me to make her a pint-sized tank,” I chuckled. “I obliged.”

Beth rose anew with skin like flushed pink steel, and runes that enhanced her already fit form. She then requested the biggest gun Sean could imagine.

“YES! There is no kill like overkill!” Savage declared his approval.

“And Aria…” I smiled fondly. “She trusted me the most. She trusted me with her whole self. I forged a wholly new body for her, and she never looked back.”

Aria rose completely anew, even beyond the others’ standards. Her new body was animated chrome, shining with magical blue light and life. The first thing she did was give out hugs under her own power, denied the ability for so long.

“That-…” Delirium sniffled. “Oh, that’s the good stuff~!”

“[Conclusion: Angels = True.]” Simmy said, nodding to herself with certainty. “[Caine’s Angels…]”

“It is…” Hecate sniffled haughtily, her standards as high as ever. “Acceptable, especially for a life without magic. You worked well with what little you had.”

“Improvements~…?” Starheart suggested with the sound of magic flowing through evolution, naturally giving rise to so many different advantages.

I nodded in agreement, “There’s always room for improvement. That was only my-… Hmm, was it the 17th? It was after ‘Merlin’ Caine, of course; that’s where all the Mystery came from. I’d likely do it differently if I had to do it all over again, but for that life, it was perfect.”

“I would call it a worthy addition to Creation,” Destruction praised. “Even if it wasn’t perfect.”

“What matters is that you did it to live in that Life, Sean,” Didi said.

“And one must do the living when living,” Kori nodded sagely.

Kara giggled, “Oh, yeah. You gotta.”

“How did the rest of the galaxy react to such an… out-of-context development?” Soranik asked.

“Frantic, panicked, and covetous, once it was revealed,” I smirked. “The galaxy had cybernetics, but nothing on the level of my magi-tech made in a shed with a box of scraps. We relied heavily on shock and awe and refuge in audacity — when people came asking questions (or not asking at all…), we paved right over them all to forge our own path. It was us against the galaxy.

“That started not long after our enhancements. Before we’d even left Elysium’s creche system, the Batarians returned in force, almost completely doing away with plausible deniability… The Skyllian Blitz…”

I grinned ominously. “And with the first Batarian boot on our home soil, Caine’s Orphaned Angels were ready to show them and the rest of the galaxy why you don’t fuck with people who don’t have anything left to lose.”

IIIII

[AN: There was a lot more set-up and establishment in this chapter than I was expecting lol (I feel like that tends to be the case when Sean tells stories from new lives, unfortunately). Now that it’s all done, though, next chapter can be all about the actual romping through the galaxy. Expect sci-fi adventure, thirsty Asari Maidens, out-of-context refuge in audacity, Batarian schadenfreude, and (I think) an interesting mix of in-life prose and bar storytelling/reactions (trying something kinda new there to help better immerse ourselves in Sean’s story).

Side note, but I can’t actually remember if the bit of Sean’s personal power resetting with each life is a retcon or not. I feel like I’ve played it both ways at different points of this story… I do think I like it better this way, with a fresh start each time and then all of his previously gathered power coming together in this life thanks to Didi. It doesn’t really affect anything now (in Life 69), and it just makes telling past-life stories simpler/more interesting.

Oh, and by the way: Sean’s Magi-Tech here is mostly brought over from FATE/Nasuverse — where he was, ya know, Merlin — just to give you a better idea of how out-of-context I intend to make him and his Angels ;]