----
“I say we should attack at once,” Hel said the moment the gods gathered to discuss their findings. “We have enough Champions that can survive the lunar atmosphere, and Wepwawet can bless them all with his Perk. We send a crack team and blow up his Idol while he least expects it.”
“Our conventional forces aren’t in place for a full-scale assault,” Epona countered. “We have yet to gather them all in one place so they can teleport through my sword in a subtle enough way that enemy spies won’t report an imminent assault, which takes time. Only sending our Champions will cause them to be overwhelmed once the element of surprise passes. They can’t hope to hold Lune for long on their own.”
“We don’t need to hold it, though,” Ganesha pointed out. “Only destroy Beelzebub’s Idol, destroy the Gravitational Engines, and knock some sense into the Overmind.”
“Exactly, and we don’t need a big army to do any of that!” Hel insisted.
“Why bring a sledgehammer when a dagger would do?” Anansi added with a honeyed smile. “My Crafty will have Lune mapped out in a matter of days. Then we can simply drop bombs or incendiary explosives in key areas, then watch the fires from Elphion.”
Horus snorted. “And leave all the slaves to die?”
“It would be a shame and a tragedy,” Anansi conceded. “But surely the safety of the millions on Elphion trumps the thousands on the moon.”
“I don’t usually agree with half-dead goddesses–” Ishtar said, ignoring Hel’s glare, “but I support the motion for once. We should strike fast.”
“There’s no rush,” Wepwawet replied, trying to calm everyone down. Haste had its uses, but they would have only one chance to pull this off, and his gut told him not to overreach. “The next meteorite rain won’t fall for a few weeks and it should inflict minimal damage. We can sit this one out.”
“It’s not that, Sweetpup.” Ishtar crossed her arms, a scowl stretching across her face. “Beelzebub is throwing caution to the wind. He had to know we would learn his Idol’s location when he began the Season of Dragonstars, when he could have happily focused on staying hidden to hasten the rate of Incursion. Why risk it all now?”
“Building and activating the Gravitational Engines would have taken time,” Wepwawet countered, a frown stretching on his face. “You imply there’s another reason?”
Ishtar nodded. “I would bet the Bull of Heaven that the Fourth Incursion is just around the corner, and that Beelzebub plans to volunteer.”
“Oh, true, he could do that,” Sun Wukong said. “That would be a damn hard banana move.”
“Thoon confirmed the lunarians already bombarded Elphion back to the Stone Age once, so they don’t need Beelzebub to do it again,” Ishtar explained. “If the Fourth Incursion is set to happen in the coming months, then it makes more sense that he helps take down as many of us as he can, so as to ensure the survivors will have a much harder time stopping the bombardment once he’s gone.”
Wepwawet scowled. Ishtar’s hypothesis was, unfortunately, rather plausible.
“What do we know about Kronos?” Horus asked Artemis. “Since we know he’s likely to come next, studying his playstyle could help us anticipate the Titans’ next moves.”
“Grandpa Kronos plays an Artifact-focused deck, and his Providence lets him create time anomalies like manipulating turn counters,” Artemis replied, scratching her cheek. “Actually, uh… an idea crossed my mind while I was reviewing the intel Dad supplied me, and I wanted to discuss it now.”
Wepwawet raised an eyebrow. “Go on?”
“Even if a Titan wins in an Incursion format that takes chunks of Elphion’s surface away, it returns once the battle concludes, right?”
“Yes,” Horus confirmed. “The souls of everyone present will be reaped by the Titan, but the land and everything else within will stay behind. That’s why the likes of Whiro and Tiamat left us so many parting gifts on their way out.”
Artemis nodded to herself. “So if Beelzebub were to volunteer for the next Incursion and Grandpa Kronos picked a format like ‘conquer all Altars’ or ‘destroy the enemy Idols,’ then all the Artifacts and creatures he leaves behind will end up on Lune when the battle ends.”
“Ugh….” Wepwawet grumbled as he slapped his forehead. He could see where this was going. “If Beelzebub volunteers, it’ll let Kronos drop something dangerous on the moon…”
“Tiamat used her Incursion to infest the world with the Brood,” Ishtar pointed out. “Our dear huntress is right, it’s not unlikely Kronos could use a similar tactic to supply the lunarians with advanced technology or somehow enhance their Gravitational Engine. He might even cast a Miracle capable of accelerating the rate of Dragonstars.”
Wepwawet considered their current position. Now that they knew Citystep worked, they could credibly launch an assault on Lune in the coming weeks. He just had to equip their Champions with the Perk, gather and outfit a large enough army for Epona’s sword portal, and strike. They would still need ships to reach the engine on the other moon, but knocking out Beelzebub and taking over Lune would greatly ease their task.
Yet Wepwawet sensed there was a smarter play to make…
Titan Incursions all come with a two-day warning, so we’ll have forty-eight hours to deal with Beelzebub should the worst come to pass, Wepwawet thought, an insidious plan forming in his mind. Forty-eight hours when Beelzebub will need to gather his forces in one place…
Sun Wukong grinned wickedly upon seeing Wepwawet’s expression. “I can tell what you’re thinking. We pull the rug from under them right when they think they have us cornered.”
“Yes, we will,” Wepwawet said as he cleared his throat. “Okay, I have a plan. A plan that will both give us the benefit of time and screw over the Titans’ strategy at a critical moment.”
Ishtar chuckled. “A plan we’ll have to keep secret, I assume?”
“Oh no, that’s the beauty of it.” Wepwawet grinned wickedly. “We’re going to leak it.”
—--
The ship greeted its crew with a burping noise.
General Peridot, who had been given the task to supervise the project, did a double-take at that. He quickly observed the aptly named ‘Insupportable’s Flying Minion’—a name forced upon everyone in dragonbreath’s length—which took the form of a metallic blackstone saucer two hundred feet wide and seventy feet thick. The open door had teeth, the rampway looked like an unfolded tongue, and tiny eyes at the ship’s edge kept winking at them as if to convince them everything was normal, and failing miserably at that.
“Are you sure it’s not going to eat us?” the general asked the engineers on the project.
“It hasn’t eaten anyone yet,” Bernard replied, which didn’t particularly reassure his superior officer.
“I will say it again, I question the wisdom of creating sentient spaceship mimics,” Lourson said, having contributed to the ‘design.’ “Especially mimics capable of flying anywhere and crossing the void of space. What if one or two leave Elphion and make their way somewhere else?”
“They can only drink black oil, which are only useful for oil lamps,” Bernard insisted, “Surely they’ll peacefully coexist with all interstellar civilizations.”
“I doubt that,” Peridot said with a sigh. “But I suppose this is the best prototype we’ll get.”
This ‘mimiship’ was the first production of the Artemis Space Program, a completely autonomous Rank 6 living spaceship capable of carrying a small crew into space… in theory at least. Due to the danger involved, the test flight would include a very small crew of hardy Champions: Slimon, who would serve as engineer; Cynisca, the pilot; Igor, who would take charge of the weaponry; and Peridot, who would supervise everything. Should the test flight go well, Neigebleue Castle would then proceed to spawn more of these creatures to serve as a backup fleet to invade the moons.
Just thinking about that gave Peridot a headache. The fact that they were even considering a full-blown assault on Elphion’s satellites when Lavaland had struggled to invade Verglane less than two years back boggled the mind. So much had changed in so little time.
The program had chosen the icy mountains near Insupportable’s original den to serve as the test’s location. Besides Slimon’s team and the engineers, Fire Sultana Alexandrite herself had decided to observe the test in the enlightened company of Princess Treasure and the much less wanted presence of Insupportable.
“Are you climbing on board or not?” the dragon complained. “I did not lend my name to this ship for nine one-tenths of all the moon’s treasures so its crew could laze off!”
“Must I remind you that this is a military operation first and foremost, honorable dragon?” Fire Sultana Alexandrite replied calmly. “We must ensure the safety of our soldiers, not to mention I doubt we will find many treasures up there.”
“Think, queenly minion, think!” Insupportable pointed his claw at his skull, as if there was anything in there. “The moons shine in the dark, and only precious things do! Hence, the moons must be made of silver or platinum alongside those blackstones!”
“Our astronomers would say otherwise, but they detected signs of volcanic activity and magma-induced quakes,” Fire Sultana Alexandrite explained, with Princess Treasure listening quietly with rapturous attention. “Establishing magmorian colonies on the moon could let us extract underground resources.”
Princess Treasure scratched her chest’s upper lid with her tentacle. “Adult princesses can be smart?” she inquired, her voice a bit deeper all of a sudden. “They don’t have to act vapid all the time?”
“What did you just say?” Insupportable asked.
“I am Princess Treasure! I eat biscuits in the morning and I drink chocolate in the evening!”
“Such a precious little princess,” the dragon replied happily.
“You’ve heard their Majesties’ wishes, Peridot!” Slimon said as he all but dashed inside the ship in his haste. “Let us face our destiny and conquer the stars for the princesses of the world! The meek do not reproduce!”
“Good luck!” Filou and the rest of Slimon’s team shouted at him for encouragement. “Take care and be safe!”
Peridot sighed and climbed aboard next, since a captain couldn’t be the last on the ship. Cynisca and Igor followed, both having to squeeze in a bit to fit inside, with the rampway closing behind them with the nauseating sound of digestion.
The inside of the ship was… well, what Peridot would have expected from a living creature: thick walls of flesh, with humid, smelly air, and shining crystals providing them with light. The control room was a vast dome centered around a central glassy tube holding boiling yellow fluids—the creature’s brain, from what Peridot gathered—surrounded by fleshy seats facing what looked like a window made of thousands of eyes joined together.
The chairs quickly morphed and shifted in size to accommodate every member of the crew. Peridot’s own was elevated above the others, granting him a commanding view of the deck.
“Seems rather simple,” Cynisca said as she faced a panel of boiling blisters and tentacle levers. Her Charioteer powers, granted by Lord Wepwawet, increased her intuitive understanding of such creatures and vehicles.
“Are you certain about taking on this mission given your current state?” Peridot asked Cynisca, his gaze lingering on her belly. “I am not an expert on giant biology, but surely going to space might affect your pregnancy.”
“Eh, I’ve carried the kid into Brood-infested hives,” Cynisca replied with a shrug. “A trip to the moon is nothing the healers can’t patch up. Our insurance covers it.”
Peridot couldn’t tell if he should call that confidence or criminal parental irresponsibility. Maybe both. Whatever the case, this trip was supposed to be a short maiden test flight, so hopefully they would avoid taking unnecessary risks.
“Natural stealth camouflage on?” Peridot asked, to make sure nobody would see the creature. “Health and mana reserves?”
“All clear!” Slimon said. “We’re ready to depart!”
“Let us launch.”
Cynisca pulled a few levers that wriggled in response, causing the ship to shake and then take flight. The eyescreen showed them taking altitude while their audience raised their hands and waved them good luck.
“It’s not that impressive!” Insupportable complained. “I can do that too!”
From what Peridot gathered, this kind of mimic used some form of advanced self-applied telekinesis to defy gravity. It soared smoothly over the icy wasteland without so much as a sound.
“Follow the test itinerary,” he ordered Cynisca, who guided the creature around icy mountains and past narrow ravines. The giant proved equally adept at piloting the ship as a chariot. “All clear. Weapons test?”
“Ready to fire, sir,” Igor replied. “Five, four, three…”
The ship approached an isolated glacier, then proceeded to try out the main weapon. The saucer grumbled and then fired a bright green laser that swiftly vaporized its top. The rising steam filled Peridot’s heart with military pride.
There was something deeply appealing about a successful artillery barrage.
“Alright, excellent…” Peridot frowned upon noticing a rain of green liquid leaking from the ship and onto the steaming glacier. “Is that an acid spray? I do not recall that being on the weapons list.”
“That is not acid, sir,” Igor replied. The golem checked his eye-monitor for a while, then marked a short pause. “Oh.”
“Is it a leak of some kind?” Peridot inquired.
“I believe the ship is asserting its dominance and marking its territory, sir.”
A short silence followed, with everyone glancing at Slimon.
“I swear I didn’t put that feature in!” Slimon protested. “It was Bernard’s fault!”
“Well, so long as it does not threaten the integrity of the craft,” Peridot replied, having learned to just go along with such things. “Begin suborbital flight test.”
Cynisca proceeded to slowly guide the flying saucer upward. Peridot sensed a slight pressure on his chest from the rising acceleration as the mountains below shrank to the size of hills, then merely points. They slowly crossed past the clouds and into the darkness above.
“Fifty miles… fifty-five miles…” Cynisca whistled. “We’re reaching the heavens, boys!”
“A small hop for a slime, and a giant flight forward for oozekind!” Slimon boasted. “This has to earn me a knighthood, then she will fall all over me…”
“Sir, you should just tell her,” Igor insisted. “It has been a year, and you have made zero progress.”
“We’ve had that discussion before, only knights can wed princesses! I need an official knighting ceremony, and conquering the moon should earn me that!”
“Stay focused,” Peridot said sharply. The sight of the infinite void ahead of them unsettled him. He felt like a ship captain about to face a deceptively calm sea at night. “All clear?”
“No problems on my end,” Slimon confirmed.
“Then let us return. It is too early for a full space trip.” Slow and steady wins the race, and Peridot would rather return alive to bring back their findings before doing anything too risky. “Let us return.”
“Boring, but sure,” Cynisca replied before guiding the flying saucer back to Verglance. The mimic-ship began its descent towards the mountains… only to suddenly veer off course towards the plains nearby.
“We’re deviating from the itinerary?” Peridot asked, utterly confused. “What’s going on?”
“I have no idea!” Cynisca protested, pulling multiple levers. “It’s acting on its own!”
Peridot clutched his armrests as the saucer zeroed in on small shapes walking across the plain, which he swiftly identified as a weredog shepherd with his cows. The poor wereling panicked upon seeing the immense mimicship flying straight towards it, though the cows were strangely placid. Insupportable’s Flying Minion moved right above one, then hovered over the bovine creatures and began to shake.
“The cargo hold opened on its own!” Slimon warned his comrades, sounding completely at a loss about what to do. “The telekinesis is acting up!”
Peridot was too shocked to say anything. All he could do was watch on the eyescreen as a cow began to float into the air and into the saucer.
—--
Another day, another shift.
Dawn was rising upon the Wyld, and Victoire had been on her way to mount Soumis for another round of fending off increasing Brood patrols around Thoon’s ship when she sensed her god’s voice in her mind. “Victoire, do you copy?”
“How did the flight go?” Victoire asked. She half-expected to hear it had blown up during the flight, since both Slimon and Bernard had been involved in its creation. “Did they all survive?”
“Well… Seven out of ten, I guess?” Lord Wepwawet coughed on his head of the telepathic line. “We’ve confirmed the mimic ship can reach space and we’ve had no casualties, but it lost two hours abducting six cows and bringing them back to base. We had to pay their shepherd a great deal of money to keep his mouth shut.”
It took Victoire several seconds to process that statement. “W-why? Why? Did it eat them?”
“No, no, that’s the weird part, it just abducted the cows and brought them back to Verglane unharmed.” Lord Wepwawet sounded equally puzzled. “I think it’s like dogs playing fetch. It took the cows home because it found it stimulating.”
“But why cows?!”
“How should I know?! Monster creation isn’t an exact science! Sometimes you get weird stuff like owlbears and eight-legged horses! Be happy that we designed one that can reach space at all, and don’t ask for details!” Wepwawet sighed. “Anyway, it’s good enough, so we’ll likely launch mass production after a few more tests. Hopefully, we’ll patch out that flaw.”
“I see…” Victoire had her doubts, but didn’t voice them.
“I know what you’re thinking, Victoire. Anyway, how are the patrols going on your end?”
“We’ve repelled all Brood scouts so far, and Thoon says the ship is more or less operational now,” Victoire replied. “But I won’t lie, it’s getting harder and harder to prevent them from slipping through our perimeter. They know something big is happening in the area.”
“Good.”
Victoire blinked. “Good?”
“Yes. As a matter of fact, you’re going to make sure one of the scouts slips past your guard today…” Her god chuckled to himself, as if in on a joke she couldn’t understand yet. “And you’ll make sure they overhear something.”
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A/N: honestly schedule feels much better for quality but you tell me ;)
Val
2025-11-04 06:57:12 +0000 UTCPublius Decius Mus
2025-11-01 19:13:05 +0000 UTCVik M.
2025-11-01 13:51:08 +0000 UTCGeorge R
2025-11-01 12:05:22 +0000 UTCgostsamo
2025-11-01 10:41:54 +0000 UTCVoid Herald
2025-11-01 09:46:29 +0000 UTCDeadicatedReader
2025-11-01 09:40:51 +0000 UTCbob
2025-11-01 09:40:27 +0000 UTC