Chimera Side Stories: Destruction (Patreon)

Chimera Side Stories: Destruction

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Wordcount: 1000

Commissioned by Althero

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The dream has ended and all that remains is a nightmare from both within and without. Tragedies and genocide weigh heavily upon us all. Many have chosen to terminate themselves, once we became free of our bestial bindings, after we once again felt more than the need to survive at any cost. How many Earths did we consume? How many worlds did we condemn to becoming nothing more than places of experimentation? How many have died by our hands, claws, and teeth, before we came upon a force that slowly awakened us from our slumber?

There is much restitution that needs to be made, a price beyond comprehensions that must be repaid, but that is after hubris and need has divested us from the lumbering, terror that has become of the Cure. 

In the arrogance born of the need to spread and multiply, the Cure invested itself in eldritch, terrible powers beyond comprehension. Their memories of giant beasts that make planets seem like toys are filled with fear and loathing. Two in particular are the most feared, but the arrival of two more forced their hand. Already, they were being broken by the first pair, two immense beings of myth and legend, that swept aside whole star systems with ease. Two more, who were rapidly growing and strength and power, had them search for a means to defend against their newfound foes. So, they searched, until they came across a mad scholar who led them to one sealed away by another they’ve never found. 

They broke every law, expended everything they could, and freed the sleeping horror from its prison, before tearing apart whole planets to enshrine it and heal it. Words of worship left the throats of monsters across hundreds of worlds, as they surrounded an Icon which harnessed the mere offshoots of the power wielded by the creature, and so they had no qualms about letting a madman’s soul intermix with the one they worshiped. They changed, somehow, for the worse despite all their wrongdoings. 

And, now the cure for suffering and death burns in flame of the esoteric nature, which ravaged their forms and reshaped them even as they burned, while all we could do was sit and watch a single, final world created by the Cure as a fallback position. We can only stand and watch as the horror they worshipped fills the Cure’s bodies with flame and fury that turns them into nothing more than flesh upon the grounds of planets. Hellscapes form upon hundreds of worlds, becoming a sickly, burning carpet that sloughs infinitesimally towards a single direction. Whole Earths burn beneath the carpets of flesh that supersede all other things. 

All we can do is harness and prepare against the oncoming foe. 

The central committees and other positions of power have been filled. All that remain with us are those who have chosen to atone for their existence, as well as ensure that the Cure never goes rampant again. Therefore, the onus of responsibility falls upon “me.” We share every thought, every feeling, and every sensation, but I ma the best versed in the innerworkings of the Cure, as well as their current state. My mind is filled with information not all of the “we” are privity too. There are differences amongst the individuals, some know more than others, and so there is hope for us all in the future.

However, for now, that mattered not.

We took what we could and created a weapon to protect us from the oncoming nightmare. The Cure complied with us, worked with us, and did nothing more besides amass flesh, give, and perform for our sakes. They are shackled and bound for they can no longer claim to be in the process of protecting and gathering human beings. The war at hand was due to their own folly and mistakes, therefore they were to only serve now and forever, if there was such a thing to be had.

The opponent we face is an atrocity of eldritch purpose, design, and mind. Its thanks for its restitution and recovery from crippled comatose was to fill its benefactors with power and take control of them. Already, the Cure reports changes occurring to all Chimera that came undone due to the machinations of the inhuman being that they created. The flesh is moving, emitting terrible magics, and is taking shapes both familiar and strange. That flesh is the vast majority of the Cure’s efforts. Billions and billions of organic masses seized, with the souls of all that flesh destroyed in the process, as the creature stands unharmed and bereft of care. 

For now, all we can do is dig in and hold fast.

The gateway to all other Earths is now at the end of a convenient-sized weapon practically beyond the scale of a human being to envision. It is composed of us and the Cure, as a weapon that will harm and forestall the inevitable if it came our way. The weapon utilizes the most powerful means of attack available to us, as well as capable of evolving and changing into other weapons systems, but it is merely a means to delay the inevitable. 

If necessary, we will destroy the Earth we now stand upon and consign ourselves to only a singular universe.

Many amongst us decry this, but there is no other choice. Even with the debt that we must pay, if we choose to fight against the oncoming tide, then there will only be loss and destruction for us. Though we are only a fraction of our original species, with many of those who objected now dead and gone, it is up to us to change, to follow the tide, and adapt to the horror we have unleashed. If we must, we shall swallow our pride and entomb ourselves forever in a singular galaxy bereft of life, if only to hopefully trap the eldritch abomination who killed trillions with a simple whim. 

If we cannot defeat it, then we can at least trap it with us forever in our last galaxy. 

It is the very least we ought to do.