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Hazeraze

Threads

Dec 15th, 2017
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  1. Threads.
  2.  
  3. Hundreds of them. You sit in the darkness across from them, their eyes locked with yours and an enormous, toothy grin splitting their face. Hanging from a ceiling you cannot see and being the only thing to breach the darkness are brilliant and colorful threads of light, which they gently caress and curl around their fingers in silence. They claim to see something in them; you only see glittering hard-light, but they seem to see the strings of the universe that they so deftly examine.
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  5. As you start to pipe up, they promptly interrupt you with a quiet laugh.
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  7. "I know more about you than you think, you know! You made a bit of a mistake, coming here, but I can tell you needed guidance. For all the steel they provide you, none of it does a thing to protect you from the twisted whims of fate, right? Well. You're a lackey; you hardly make a difference, I can tell." As you begin to protest, they shush you harshly: "SHH! Shush, it's my time. Now, since you make so little a difference, I'll make you a deal."
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  9. As they speak, you barely notice the slender threads beginning to coil themselves around your neck, but the feeling of something sharp at your spine suddenly makes you cognizant of it. "You leave the belongings I asked you to set aside, and I'll let you walk out of here alive, and I'll even give you the insight I promised. I'm a witch of my word, after all!"
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  11. "Fine," you mutter. "Not like there's much in there anyway. So, go on. I came here for a reason."
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  13. They grimly laugh, perusing the threads carefully. They crawl on their hands and knees, seemingly reading each thread intently. "Well. . . I'll say this much." They pause long, as if trying to keep you in suspense. As they stand, the strands wind themselves around their arms and fingers, and around their horns, and a grand image becomes clear to you in front of them: a massive Vigil fleet, its dark and baleful colors hanging in the sky of some distant world you don't recognize, fire raining from it.
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  15. "The winds of change blow strong in your future, little seeker of Reprisal." Their eyes shimmer, that grin never faltering. "Whether or not they will blow you away, and we all forget you ever existed, or lift your little operation into unprecedented power, is not my place to tell you. You'd better decide whether or not you want to be there when that happens, either way. It won't be pretty no matter what."
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  17. The image stays for a moment, before they unceremoniously rip all of the threads out of the ceiling and together, again, they weave into a pair of blades that they clutch threateningly. "Now, out! Out! Run back to your little carrier and don't show your face here again, lest I toss you off this island and into the clouds!"
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  19. Although you feel you could take them, you spy in the darkness behind them a pair of faintly luminous eyes that clearly do not belong to them. You wisely opt to follow their orders, and they are one step behind you as you leave, keeping the blades at hand until they watch you embark upon and take off in your small dropship, disappearing into the shiftless pastel horizon while they retreat into their home.
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