A Frog's Blessing on this Wonderful Galaxy: Interlude 1

The Imperial Palace

Jaghatai took a deep breath before he buried his face against his palms. "Sometimes, I wish I was back in that cell rather than dealing with all of this," he muttered to himself as he dragged his palm across his face and stared at the mountain of documents and reports before him. At least there, all he needed to worry about was his survival rather than the fate of the Imperium itself.

"Did you say something Lord Jaghatai?" One his secretary asked as she peeked from the edge of his desk, reminding him he wasn't alone in his office. With him were various clerks, the best the Administratum had to offer, as he had taken up the mantle of Lord Regent.

As the Emperor's son, and the only one of his brothers now around, the reins of the Empire naturally fell on his lap. That meant he was responsible for handling everything. From the logistics and deployment of the various Adeptus Militarum, the administration of the four Segmentum, to even something so mundane as picking who was to clean the bowels of the Imperial Palace, he had to give his final approval. How the Imperium turned into such a mess after just a few millenia, he did not know.

"Horus happened," He thought to himself as he frowned. His father is now interned to the Golden Throne, the Sigilite is dead, half his brothers have gone off to the forces of chaos and the remaining half were either dead or missing. Seeing that he had gone off into the webway and got himself captured, he was no better than the others.

Shaking his head, replied, "It's nothing," He might have ran off to sate his ego, he had now returned and he was here to fix it. Still, it was a sisyphean task worthy of a primarch. Feeling the weight of having the weight of the Imperium upon his shoulder, he grew weary.

Yawning, he excused himself, "I'm just a bit tired, that's all." While the body was willing, his mind grew tired. "Guilliman would have been of great help here," he thought to himself as he smiled.

Amongst his brothers, none could match Guilliman in logistics and running a bureaucracy. "The daily runnings of an empire was never my greatest suit. This is more of Guiliman's playground, not mine," he admitted as he remembered how easily the man worked through the ledgers as he would tear through the enemies.

"Guilliman would have loved this," He thought to himself as he found himself chuckling. He would have made this look like child's work. Still, that doesn't mean he was helpless. He had people he could rely on, people whose lives were devoted to the runnings of the Administratum.

"Nonsense my lord, we're making great progress!" The girl cheered as she returned to her work, sorting and compiling the documents in need of his attention, "The Administratum has never been better. I've never seen such a volume of documents signed before!" she added, making him grimace.

As much as it pained him to admit, the current state of the Adeptus Administratum was less than desirable. It was a bloated, byzantine mess which was all but unmanageable. He didn't need the eye of his brother to see that it was slow, inefficient, and even downright dysfunctional at the best of times!

Entire worlds lost due to accounting errors, reports and vital information slipping through the cracks only to rediscovered millennium after the fact, countless lives wasted simply because the apparatus could not handle the giant that Imperium had become. There were so many things that had gone wrong for the Imperium in his absence. Hearing the chants of the Ecceliciarchy just down the hall, he frowned. The less he thinks about the Imperial Cult, the better.

"Then it's a good thing I've returned." he replied as he added another name to his growing list of names. Despite his misgiving, he loved the Imperium. This was his brother's legacy and it would be amiss of him if it were to fall while under his guidance. "Now, let's get back to business so we all could have our much deserved rest," he told them, much to the cheer of his office. He had much to prune from the overgrown hedge of the Imperium, one he will relish for all the headaches and pains they have him.

Feeling for the pendant on his neck, a vial containing poisons concocted by his lover herself, he felt renewed vigor fill his veins. "Only I could have you, no one else," he remembered her words fondly. No wonder poets and artists obsess over the matter. He was going to make this work, no matter what the cost.

If he were to reunite with his lover, he needed to bring lasting peace upon this galaxy. And to do that, he needed to get the Imperium back in order so that no rogue elements would jeopardize the tenuous peace he had with his friend Kermit and the Aeldari as a whole. It was a daunting task, given the state of the Imperium, but not impossible.

Despite the lows in which the Imperium had reached, through some miracle, it was still alive. So long as it exists, there is still hope that one day, it can return to its former glory. His father did reforge humanity, so why couldn't his children do so? He just had to get through the day and get the whole thing running better.

"My apologies, Lord Jaghatai," A voice called out, breaking his train of thought. Looking up, he paled as carts after carts of dusty parchment were wheeled in the already cramped office. "It seems that some of the documents from the warehouse were delayed and had just arrived. We'll be carting more shortly," the man told him.

Letting out a heavy sigh, he did his best not to fall into despair as she lamented, "It seems that I've spoken a bit too soon," There seemed to be no end to this blasted paperwork. If only he had his brothers to help him with the load. Even Leman Russ would do as he could at least deal with the budgeting of the armed forces. As barbaric as the man was, he knew how to run his army.

"Such is life in the Administratum!" The girl jested, making the rest laugh. Even he found himself chuckling. The girl was nothing if not spirited. It certainly made things easier

As his eyes picked up a report on the Tyranids, horrible creatures which he learned weren't just another set of monstrosity made by the Heamonculi's, he told the girl, "Please continue your report on the current whereabouts of the various Hive Fleets while I review the budget of the Navy."

While he picked apart the ledgers, making a mental note to have one of the accountants executed for trying to embezzle funds, the girl recalled reports of strange behavior from the various tendrils that made up the greater Tyranid Swarm. For quite bestial creatures, any reports of unusual behaviors were always of great concern.

"And that concludes my report," the girl summarized what she told him, "All hostilities from the greater tendrils have ceased as they seemingly abandoned their current actions. Even planets that are in the middle of being consumed are left behind." He frowned as he considered what could have caused such a sudden and abrupt shift.

"Do we know where they are heading?" He asked as the girl reached deep inside the piles of parchment before she pulled a great roll of fine velum. With the help of cherubs and her fellow clerks, she unrolled the pieces showing off the map of the imperium.

From the eye of terror, to the minor xenos empire called the Tau, this was as detailed of a map as one could get. As a servo skull floated above his head, the lights turned off before its eyes shone, overlaying the path of the Extra Galactic menace. The sudden and abrupt change in the course of the swarm was hard to miss.

"Based on the last sightings and shared reports from our… allies, out in the stars," The girl trailed off, her tone laced with distastes at the mentions of the Craftworlds, before she continued, "They might be heading for the Eye of Terror or atleast in its general direction," While the Throne world was in its path, no worlds have been eaten so far. Still, he reminded himself to get the Imperial ready just in case. "As for why? We're not sure," She told him. Frowning, he considered why.

These creatures were ravenous as he had the misfortune of having dealt with some of them that escaped through the cells. For them to abandon their meal, one that came at great cost due to the battles they had to wage, a great prize must have attracted their attention.

"You say that they changed course right after the Liberation of Commorragh, yes?" He asked as he glanced towards the photo taken just before he left the Dark City.

There he stood in the middle as the rest gathered around him. Kermit, much too big for the photo, only had parts of his eyes and his face captured in the background. Magnus, or a shard of the man, floated just beside him. Malys, his dear thorny rose, had her hands wrapped around his waist as she leaned on him. Not even Lilith diving across the bottom of the photo could ruin that moment, captured in time.

As much as he wanted to reminisce on times he had with Malys in the battlefield, his attention was on his amphibian friend and his radiant light. "Yes," she nodded before she frowned, "My lord... Are you suggesting that they're attracted to the green giant?"

"Kermit," he corrected her. While he had only returned to the Imperium a few months ago, the tales of his friend were already spreading. After all, a being that could stand toe to toe with one of the monsters from the warp was someone worth celebrating or one to fear as he saw in the eyes of some of his staff.

"And it's more of a hunch," He admitted as he stroked his beard. The man turned amphibian was certainly powerful, the light of their soul reaching the intensity of that of the Astronomicon. Given the battle raged and the temporary green star that shone in the stars, it wouldn't be that much of a stretch. Still, with the gates closed… The only other entrance big enough for entire hive fleets to get through to access the way was the Eye itself.

"The only other reason they might be attracted to it is… the Twin Moon," He noted, trying not to think much on how She got stuck there of all things, but then again Kermit happened. "But not even those are not bright enough to overshadow the Astronomicon. The only other source of light strong enough would be my friend," He pointed out.

"It seems that we'll have more to discuss with Commorragh when we meet them in a few months' time," He muttered darkly, frowning at the thought of facing a horde of such magnitude. He just hoped that Kermit could pull another miracle.

"That's enough of the Tyranids for now," He sighed. As much as he hated it, the Imperium can only whittle away at the horde, not when the Orks could return. Leaning back on his seat, he sighed,"How goes the search for my brothers?" No man can wield this empire alone. He needed his brothers.

"So far, none of our efforts had yielded results," The girl replied as she shook her head in dismay, "We have yet to see any signs of Dorn, Leman Russ and Corvus Corax while efforts to revive Guilliman had so far failed," he told them.

Clenching his fist, he grumbled, "Unfortunate," Three of his brothers were unaccounted for while one was grievously injured, while one… he wasn't quite sure.

"We are making progress however, my lord!" The girl cheered as the map was rolled up and the lights were returned to the dark and gloomy office. "One of the four remaining artifacts had been recovered while the Dark Angels have news about their Primarch," She replied, squinting at the letter sent by the First Legion before they handed it to him, "They are a bit cagey about such information and wish to share it in private, my lord," She told him.

As much as he wished to discuss it with the Angels, he had other pressing matters to attend to. "I'll see to that after Commoragh," He told her as he pulled out a roll of paper and started drafting a letter, "Speaking of, send a message to the Ultramarines. I'm taking my brother with me," While he could pursue his other brothers, he had one that he had with him and he knew one person who could help him. Now, he'd see if the Eldari legends on Isha held any merit.

-x-x-x-

Armageddon

As the sun set upon Armageddon, Yarrick couldn't help but feel dread. How couldn't he when all he heard were the songs of the native wildlife that called this jungle their home. There was neither the sound of gunfire, nor the rhythmic thumps of the basilisk. For the first time since Hive Hades was obliterated, he heard nothing.

"Any signs of the Greenskins?" He asked as his adjutant slipped into his tent, bringing him his dinner as well as news from the front. There must be something, anything that would tell him what the orks would plan but all he'd receive was the same old confused shake he had become all too familiar with.

"Not a sign of the green menace my lord," They replied, their voice hopeful as they told him, "It seems that they're truly gone," The Orks were gone. From one end of Armageddon to the other, reports would come in that the invaders were gone. He had not seen any of them ever since that fateful day, when the sky itself shook and turned green as a new star was born.

He could still see the look of awe in their eyes, this reverence he had only seen in the true believers in the emperor, before they fled. No, the orks never fled, only turning into disarray. It was as if they were called to the star itself.

He heard from his correspondence with his Inquisitorial contacts of a battle in Commaragh, exactly coinciding with the birth of the new star. How it could relate to the Orks, other than being a strange green color, he did not know. Whatever the case was, every last ork disappeared which grinded the war to a halt.

With no enemies to fight, lines broke out in search. The guns were finally given time to rest. The men? They earned their rest. Still, he could not feel at ease, not when he hadn't killed their Warboss. Their armies were still intact and they were out there… somewhere.

"Keep vigilant," He told them, refusing to let his guard down. It had only been months, but things could change at the snap of a finger, "The orks might be brutes but they are not without cunning," He reminded them before he told them, "Double the scouting party and give them extra rations. We're to search the abandoned tunnels."

Pausing briefly as he looked at the green start that blinked from time to time, he added, "And make sure that we have eyes on the sky. I do not want them escaping, you hear me!" He cannot let him live, not when that Ork posed the greatest threat to the Imperium since Abaddon the Despoiler and his Black Crusades.

"Yes my lord!" the man saluted, before retreating. While he wouldn't have wasted the rations, keeping the men happy for doing something as "inane as watching nothing" was his only course of action. How could his men have strict conditions when there was no one to fight?

That ork, even in his absence, gave him trouble. Whatever his machincation was, he promised that it would not come to be. "Now where are you, you bastard," he whispered as he reached for his gun, feeling another presence in the room.

He felt his stomach drop as a low rumbling laugh echoed inside his tent. "Oh I'd be happy to answer that," A deep and familiar voice answered as rage and fury bubbled up Yarricks chest. Slowly turning, he found Ghazghkull Mag Uruk Thraka, the Warboss of the WAAAGH of Armageddon, sitting there by the corner of his tent, without his armor.

Letting out a toothy grin, barring his massive tusk, the Ork greeted, "Evening Commissar, lovely night ain't it? A perfectly clear sky. Almost makes me want to fight…" Feeling for his trigger, Yarrick felt his heart hammer away at his chest, his blood roaring in his ears as he heard the Ork trail off, "But I won't, not today." Without a hint of hesitation, Yarrick pulled his gun out and fired, letting the bark of his Bolter fill the tent.

It should have been the end of that. The Ork was a few paces away, but to his horror, the bolts disappeared into flashes of light, leaving him unmarked. "Now wasn't that rude," They replied, grabbing his food before tossing it to their massive maw. "Good thing your mens a bit busy right now. Sorry for your supplies. It was either that or I had to kill them all," the Ork casually told him as he heard shouting outside.

The tents were burning, fire leaping across his camp while here he was, trapped with the Warboss. Taking in a deep shuddering breath, he slipped his bolter back on the belt as he gritted out, "Ghazhgkull," Grabbing a seat and making himself comfortable, he asked, "What do you want?"

"Is it wrong to say goodbye to an old friend before I leave?" The ork replied as he leaned forward. So, they left… or did they?

Narrowing his eyes, he fired back, "I don't believe you," The battle had yet to truly start. The line had yet to fully set and then they decided it was time to pack up? No, he couldn't believe him. "You're hiding something," He fired back, fishing for info.

"No lies, no tricks," The massive ork replied as they held up their hands, showing he had nothing on him, "I'm merely here to bid farewell before I start Da Great WAAAGH! I honestly thought it would take alot longer, but things changed!" the Ork chuckled, making Yarrick narrow his eyes.

"It's going to be the biggest WAAAGH this galaxy has seen in… well, since that war… yes… it was certainly a war that shook the heavens itself," the Warboss went on, speaking cryptically as a look of excitement and bloodlust crossed their beady eyes. Turning to him, he told him, "Best to leave the planet cause the scrap ain't going to be here."

"What war?" he asked, wondering what he was talking about. A War in Heaven? What nonsense has gotten into the Orks metal skull this time? "What are you talking about?"

"Oh just something us Lads and the Bot Boyz had before we forgot," The Ork replied as he scratched his chin. "Honestly embarrassing that we only remembered now, but we can make up for old times, especially with the Brain Boyz back in town!"

A next step in their evolution? Perhaps a higher form of ork perhaps? This…. This was concerning. Ghazghkull was a night all on his own, but an ork dedicated to thinking? He did not lik what he was hearing.

"The Bot Boyz? The Brain Boyz? " He asked, fishing for details. The mechanicus? No, the Orks were an older menace… far older that no one knows in the Imperium where they came from or how they came to be. These Bot Boyz… who were they?

"Oh you know, the ones in the jungle, sneaky buggers, building a pyramid here in Ullanor. An outpost really, but they're a tough bunch," They were in Armageddon, not in Ullanor. Given that half the Orks skull was metal, he let them be as he let them chattering along, "As for the Brainy one? Heh, all you have to do is look up in the sky and see his star."

"Commaragh," He whispered as he stared at the baleful green star for what it was, a portent of ill tidings to come. What happened in the Dark City? Did it cause the birth of a stronger ork?

"Bingo," the Ork replied before they slowly got up, dusting themselves. Before he could ask more from the xenos, the giant apologized, "As much as I want to keep chatting, it seems that your boyz finally figured out that it was just a distraction,"

"Boss! They found us, we must run now!" Gretchin shouted as they burst into the tent while the shout of panic and gun fire echoed from outside.

"I hear you Makari," The Ork replied as he gave him a nod and salute, "This was a nice chat. We should do this more often, Commissar!" They told him as they suddenly burst into action, barreling through the tent and trapping Yarrick under the heavy canvas.

Tearing himself out with his Klaw, Yarrick found the Ork climbing up the ladder to a Deffkopta of all things hovering over their base. How they didn't hear his whirling blades, he did not know, but he knew that he couldn't let them escape, not after what he heard.

"Shoot him down!" He shouted as he fired at the vehicle who took their shots as if they were raindrops. Not even the heavy bolts of the anti aircraft installation could scratch this mysterious aircraft.

"Now that's more like it!" The Ork laughed as their figure slowly faded in the distance. As they made their escape, they shouted, taunting him, "You know where to find me, Yarrick. See you in Commaragh!"

Yarrick was left there, fuming, as the ork once again escaped his grasp. Raising his bolter and rearing arms to throw his weapon away, he held back, forcing himself to sheat it back on its holster. As angry as he was, throwing a tantrum would do him no good.

"Sir, are you alright?" His adjutant shouted as he ran up to him, his face scratched up from what looked like the claw marks of a Gretchin.

"I'm fine," He replied as he gestured for a medic. Gesturing at his assistant who protested as they dragged him away, he ordered the nearest soldier he could find, "Fetch me a messenger. I need to let Terra know about Makari." This… this was bad.

"You mean the Warboss, right Lord Commissar?" The man asked, giving him a confused look.

"Did I stutter, soldier?" He growled out, not having patience to deal with this. Kicking the canvas off his feet, he marched away in search of any communication device… but off course, it wouldn't be Ghazghkull if he didn't smash something on his way out; in this case, the radios. He'd have to march to the nearest base if he wanted to get his message across.

"I mean no offense but it's just a gretchin, my lord" the soldier asked as he panted, finally catching up to him. Giving the grunt a look, he decided to humor the man.

"That Gretchin spoke in High Gothic," he pointed out, as he looked around for a vehicle to commandeer, "If the runtiest of their kind could speak clearly then I fear for what the Orks have become," The Third War for Armageddon might have come to an end, but its conclusion only made him fearful of what was to come.

-x-x-x-

The Prismatic Galleries

While many tomb worlds were desolate and devoid of life, Solemnace was not unlike the rest. Where others chose to embrace the desolation and silence, its lord filled its halls with curiosities from across the known universe. Tended to by countless scarabs and meticulously cataloged, the ever growing collection was the pride of its master. Indeed, no other task could ever quite compare for Trazyn the Infinite.

Humming a jaunty tune, the lone Necron lord walked down the halls of his collection, his steps echoing in the silent halls as the dim green lights of his tomb illuminated his path. Making a round in his collection to admire, he felt something was missing… something essential for a collection.

It was neither gaps amongst the display that rankled him, nor it was how he could arrange things better and made the viewing experience more memorable. No, it wasn't that, it was something, something that gave his collection meaning. What was the use of his collection if he didn't have someone to brag about it too, someone he could amaze with his wonders!

Yes, he had visitors here and there, with some of them enjoying a place in his collection, but he barely had any visitors from the people he made it for in the first place. "Borrow an artifact one time and they never make you forget," He muttered, annoyed at his peers' seeming lack of interest. However, that soon was about to change.

"Still, it's boring now," He muttered, sighing at how empty and hollow his halls felt without the chatter of his peers, "I wonder when I'll have a visitor?" He asked himself before he heard a call. He felt a phantom of a smile stretch across his unmoving lips as it seemed that his prayers were answered.

Walking up to greet an old acquaintance, he greeted them warmly, "Orikan, it's so good to see you." Amongst his peers, the Diviner might just be one of the most amusing to talk to. With the dull look on their eyes, the man was as lively as ever.

"Trazyn," the Cryptek replied, nodding back at him. "I see you still live," He added dryly, making Trayzn roll his eyes or his exaggerated approximation of such with his stiff features.

"I can say the same to you," He replied. "Still, it's a pleasure to have you around," He replied as he gestured for him to follow. Despite the sass of his fellow Necron, the man's presence was stimulating. He could never quite get bored when he was around.

Accompanied by his honor guards, they stepped into a barge which slowly floated across the vast selection of his wonders. From various battles frozen in time, to dioramas of long dead empires who once ruled their little corner of the galaxy. He particularly liked the ones where he had some Krorks stomping on some of his rival's guards. He was still getting letters to have them back.

Breaking through the silence, he said to his companion, "While I was expecting a guest," It was a lie of course but the man didn't need to know, "I did not expect you of all people to come to my domain," He noted, finding it strange that it was Orikan that came to visit him and without prompting. "Have you come to your senses and visited to marvel at my collection?" he asked, amused by the offended look his stiff face companion managed to sport.

"Your assortment of random junk and specimens?" the Cryptek replied, glancing at his collection with seeming disinterest, "As if something so inane would be worth my attention," he added. Still, his words would ring hollow as a particular piece, an entire Dhrukari battleship, one that wouldn't have been out of place in the old war, caught the man's attention.

"Oh come now, don't be shy. You know you're impressed," He chuckled before his eyes lit up with glee, Unless… Have the Orks finally cracked open your tomb and ransacked your lab?" he asked. He knew how much the man hated Orks given the randomness they throw in the equation. It was like trying to stack sand.

"Surely you jest. As if I'd allow such a trespass into my domain," The man replied, offended by his mere jest. The man really can't take a joke. Looking away, the man muttered, "I'm merely here to observe and see if you're so absorbed in your collection that you'd ignore the call."

"Ahh yes, the return of the Silent King," Trazyn answered, reminded that the king disturbed him while he was in the middle of arranging his museum. "And as much as I am flattered, you don't have to worry about me. The reanimation sequence for the rest of my army is going swimmingly," he told the man. Already, his army was once more activated. His generals rousing as his legion marched once more.

"Another of the primitive simians' term," the man jabbed, annoyed at his frequent use of human terms. There was just something catchy with the way they spoke.

"You should observe them sometimes, but given how things are going, I doubt you'd have the time now," He sighed, lamenting at how his friends couldn't enjoy human watching with him now that they were going to get busy, "It was fun while it lasted, but I suppose all things do come to an end."

"Can you remind me again why he woke us all up again?" He asked, still in disbelief at the message that was sent to all of them, "Perhaps I was just mistaken, that what I read from their message was just a trick played by my own eye," He told him.

"Faulty Memory and Poor Eyesight? I see that your own mind and body is starting to fail you, not to my surprise," Orikan jabbed back before he answered, "But if you want to be reminded, then let me help you."

"Our old enemy still lives… One I failed to predict," The man replied, shame and frustration welling up in their tone. Trazyn felt the sensation of a frown on his brow as the man continued, "We are to perform the reanimation sequence on the rest of our kind. Failure to do renders your lives and treasures forfeit,"

"So it's true then," He whispered as their ride came to a stop before a large pedestal. Getting off the barge, he continued, "The Old Ones have returned… or at least the last remaining scion." Walking before the pedestal, he pulled out a recording device and played it once more, "It seems that spreading some mind-shackled scarabs over at Commorragh wasn't such a fool's errand after all," He said out loud as he watched the content.

"You have… data?" Orikan replied in wonder, the most he'd ever gotten from the man, as they watched their old enemy wrangle with a creature from the warp. "Give them to me," the man ordered as he reached out to grab it, but not before he phased through.

Still, he knew it would only be a matter of time before the man figured out how to pry it off his hands. That doesn't stop him from messing with him though, "Only if you say please," He teased him, making the man glare up at him.

"I hate you," He replied. Already, he had this inkling feeling that he said that before but that didn't matter.

"You know you want it," He chuckled, dangling the device before the man. Despite his powers over time, there were a few things he could do, namely make things so annoying that he'd only take the path he chooses.

Seeing the apoplectic rage in their eyes fizzle out, Trazyn knew he won. "Please," the man replied as he held out his hands. Enjoying his victory, he handed it over. Giving it a look and inspecting it, he nodded before it disappeared, probably some place he couldn't reach.

"See, was that so hard?" he chuckled, enjoying their little banter. Turning to the pedestal, he then told him, "Anyways, this tadpole is certainly full of surprises. He's not unlike them, his ancestors." They wouldn't have gotten their hands dirty or even risked their own hide for their creation. Something was different about this one.

"Oh?" Orikan replied, intrigued as well.

"He's far stronger, more wily, a whole lot more friendly honestly, traits I wouldn't normally associate with our old enemy," Trazyn noted. This Old One, this Kermit didn't fight like an old one. While they would have thrown around their psychic might, this frog threw its fist. It was amusing honestly as it reminded him of his current obsession,

"If I didn't know any better, I would have thought they were human. Perhaps one raised by one?" He mused. It wasn't so out of the question. Humans, once they got through their xenophobic tendencies, had a habit helping total strangers. It wouldn't be out of the question that perhaps a couple raised this frog in some far off world. It would be quite the story.

"You and your fascination with those simians," The man shook his head before he waved him off dismissively. "So what if he's different? We have won against them once, we shall do it again." he told him, so sure of their victory.

"Ah, that's the thing. He's different, unique, something worthy of being remembered," he replied. Oh he wasn't concerned about victory, no that was inevitable as they were but one and not the legion they once were. What he was more interested in was the Old One itself, this Kermit. "I'm going to enjoy having him over," He told him as he stared up at the giant gaping hole in his collection.

"Trazyn, surely you jest? You plan on adding them to your collection?" Orikan asked, giving him a look of disbelief.

"And why not?" He answered before he stroked his chin. "It is a bit dangerous," He admitted, knowing full well how they could snap him in half with a thought, "But it's worth the pain." If something was so easy that he could pick it off the ground then why should it be in his collection? The challenge actually enhanced the value!

"It also helps that if I capture him, the Silent King can return to whatever he was doing." He mused. The Old One was the reason why they were being woken up in the first place. If he were to remove them from the equation, then there's nothing to be worried about.

"I will enjoy seeing you fail," Orikan replied flatly.

"Oh ye of little fate," He fired back, enjoying the pained groans the man let out. It was going to be hard but what was life without a bit of challenge?

A/N: 

Still need to do a chapter of the Hyuuga Fic as well as get that last commission done for the month. Sorry for the slight delay. Attended a training to refresh some skills I used to have.