Circuits & Sorcery

Chapter Eight - Broken Foundations.

Things settled down after the strange explosion of void space. Captain Ellison found herself standing alone by the half-melted remains of her captain’s chair. They were watching the rest of the crew, as well as the two newcomers. Keygoire and Theo were lost in conversation about something that involved void space. Sir Reginald was sat with his back against the wall within the lower section of the bridge. He was playing with a small mouse that he had either found onboard the ship or had brought with him. White was sat down next to the bodies of the deceased crew, lost in thought. The poor pilot had been through a lot. Ellison felt strangely protective of Sam. They were the youngest member of her crew, and despite their natural talent at piloting, they were still very green. That lack of experience was showing, as the stress of real combat was obviously taking its toll on them. Valentine was in the process of wrapping the cultist’s bodies up in body bags and then adding them to the collection of other bodies. While captain Ellison didn’t mention it out loud, it felt odd, wrong even, to lay those cultists next to the bodies of the crew that hadn’t survived the crash.
But that was what death was, wasn’t it?
The great equaliser. No matter who you were, everyone was the same once they were dead.
Although now that there was a chance that literal Gods were real, was that even true anymore? If Keygoire and Sir Reginald were right, what did this mean for her world, the world of science. Until this moment, the universe had been a strangely simple place for Ellison. Sure, it was complex in a sense, with science pulling at the threads of understanding, uncovering string theory, quantum physics, and other advanced fields of science. But for all this complexity, existence had always been limited to just this world, this life, this universe. That had always meant that with science, and enough study everything was theoretically understandable.
The magic that Keygoire had just used, had just undeniably proven to be real, destroyed Ellison’s simple notion that this universe was understandable through science. He had created water from nothing. She had just watched as a man broke the first law of thermodynamics, the conservation of energy, like it was a normal thing for him to do. Which, as she now understood, it very much was for Keygoire. This meant that the very foundations that the captain had built her life upon were false, provably so. Everything that she thought to be basic, obvious, fact, was wrong.
She didn’t know how to handle such a revelation.
Ellison made her way down the stairs to the lower section of the bridge, towards the area that would usually have been occupied by the holoscreen. Sir Reginald was still sat against the wall, playing with the little mouse.
“Mind if I sit with you?” The knight looked up at her, which revealed an expression of worry on his face.
“Captain Ellison, my fair lady, it would be a pleasure to share your company. I offer my humblest apologies for my dour mood.” Ellison sat against the wall, next to the strange man.
“What’s wrong, if you don’t mind me asking?” The captain was hoping that she would be able to distract herself by helping someone else. It was her usual way of dealing with difficult emotional problems. Ignore them until they felt better.
“Thank you, my lady. It’s Quinn, my squire. I’m worried that we won’t be able to save him from those foul cultists, that his blood will be on my hands.”
“It sounds like we need a plan. What can you tell me about this cultist base?”
Captain Ellison and Sir Reginald started to work together to arrange a plan of attack.

Sam was sat on the floor, next to the body bag that hid the corpse of Peters.
A lot of things about White’s understanding of the universe had changed with the discovery of this world. Keygoire and Reginald had opened their eyes to a whole new way of understanding life and death. Religion had always felt like a farse to Sam before. Stories of afterlives spent living in a paradise for lives well-lived, or eternal torment for those that choose self-interest over altruism. They were all promises with no evidence. It was the hope of being able to see those lost again someday, but it had to be built on a foundation of blind faith. Faith that White had never been able to find within themselves.
Then Sam had watched a knight of a God they had never heard of produce a flaming sword that never extinguished, as well as a wizard able to create water from his hands and lightening from his staff. Keygoire had even mentioned that religious leaders often conversed with their Gods on this world. While it had been a brief footnote, he had even mentioned that the God Interitus had attempted to invade this world before.
As Sam looked down at Peters, they felt hope that his soul was out there, somewhere. With one of the Gods that he had yet to learn about.
“I’m sorry Peters.” Calling him by his surname felt wrong in this instance. “I’m sorry, Leo. I’m sorry that I couldn’t save you.”
White then got up, wiped the tears from their face, and walked over to Keygoire.
“Of course, without the guidance of Tywyll, one would never be able to traverse his realm of Uffern.” The wizard was halfway through a conversation with Theo but quickly turned his attention to Sam as he noticed them approaching. “How may I be of assistance, my good man, or were you looking for the attention of my non corporeal friend here?” The misgendering hurt, but there was no sign that it had been intentional.
“Sorry, but I’m not a man, I’m non-binary.” White’s voice was still quiet, which reflected their anxiety.
“Hmmm, like the dwarven folk or certain elves, interesting. Allow me to ask my query anew then. How may I be of assistance, my fine fellow?” Keygoire’s tone was full of arrogance, but it was that that had Sam hopeful that he would be able to answer their questions.
“What do you know about the afterlife?” Sam spotted the look of concern on Theo’s face as they asked this.
“An interesting subject.” The wizard began, as he ran his fingers through the tangled mess that was his beard. “We know that the soul does depart this mortal realm upon death, and various Gods, such as Solas or Grundle, have confirmed that certain souls have made it to their realms. Beyond that, I’m afraid, I know very little.”
“Are you okay, Sam?” Theo’s kind voice was reassuring to hear, and they didn’t want to worry him, so they answered as truthfully as they could without getting into the details.
“I’m holding up. Thank you for asking. How are you feeling Theo?” Sam had chosen their words very carefully. If they were right, and Theo’s code was evolving, then the word ‘feel’ would be very important here.
“It’s strange, I’m feeling a lot of things. I believe I’m feeling grief for those that didn’t survive the crash, relief for those that did, fear for what’s to come, and hope that the plan I’ve been discussing with Keygoire will work out. It’s confusing to have so many conflicting processes all active at once, but I suddenly understand why humans create poetry. I believe it’s an attempt to capture this confliction.” Theo stopped for a second, clearly reflecting on something, then added. “Thank you for asking, Sam.” All they could manage was a simple smile in return, but it seemed to be enough for Theo.
“Do you think it’s worth mentioning your plan to the captain?” Sam asked, to move the topic of conversation forward as much as for its practical purpose. Theo then blinked out of existence, leaving Sam and Keygoire alone, before they reappeared next to the captain and Reginald. Then they disappeared from next to the captain and reappeared next to Valentine, before reappearing, once again, next to the wizard and pilot.

Ellison, along with Reginald, joined with the rest of the team ready to hear out Theo and Keygoire.
“It seems that you fine people have one fundamental problem.” The wizard began.
“To put it simply, we’re trapped here, on Honosreach, with no way to return to Ociea Prime and warn the Alliance of the Brotherhood’s VSD navigational capabilities.” Theo continued.
“Well it would seem that to navigate the realm of Uffern, which you fine people know as void space, you would need the assistance of Tywyll, otherwise known as Interitus.”
“To communicate with Interitus, we would need a VSD navigational orb, which the brotherhood assassin is in possession of.”
“These orbs are known as Orbs of Regna on this world. It would be safer not to have more than one here, as they were once used by the God of Destruction during an attempted invasion. If more than one is kept on Honosreach then such an action may, once again, become possible.”
“So why not solve both problems with one action? I propose that we use the VSD navigational orb, along with the brotherhood’s assassin armour and ship, to trick Interitus into navigating us through void space back to Ociea Prime.”
“Which would allow you to warn your Alliance and would safely remove the Orb of Regna from our world.” Keygoire finished.
“We still have the issue of the cult and their kill zone.” Valentine pointed out the obvious flaw in the plan. They needed to make it into the cult’s lair to deal with the cultists and the brotherhood assassin, which would mean having to walk into the choke point at the entrance of the lair.
“Me and Reginald have been thinking about that, and we have a plan, but it’s not one you’re going to like…”

© Robyn Timmons, 2025

Circuits & Sorcery

Chapter Seven - Assassins!

Keygoire cast a protective ward over himself as the older man, Valentine, as captain Ellison had called him, pulled Mix White out of the way of the assassin’s blade. It didn’t take their conjoined party long to prepare themselves for combat. The captain and Valentine pulled out strange devices, they were metallic with a barrel that was sat upon a handle. Keygoire wasn’t sure, but he assumed that they were some kind of miniature crossbow that would allow for ranged combat. All three of the strangers from another world tapped a button on their belts and were instantly covered with a strange bubble that slightly blurred them.
Was this some kind of protective ward, similar to Keygoire’s own ward?
Mix White then scrambled for cover behind one of the strange desks within the room. Sir Reginald held his holy sword, still aflame, in a defensive stance.
Three more blades were flung from the doorway into the bridge. Sir Reginald deflected one of the blades with his sword, easily rediverting its path harmlessly into the wall. A second blade hit the chair that captain Ellison had taken cover behind. The final blade impacted Keygoire’s ward and was flung back towards the person that had thrown it. Unfortunately, the assassin was skilled and quick enough to take cover behind the doorway as the blade slammed into the hallway wall behind them.
“Five attackers.” Theo, the AI, flashed into existence next to the open doorway. His non corporeal state had allowed him to take stock of the attackers without any risk to himself. A useful ability. “Four are armed with melee weapons, while one is armed with a phaser pistol.” The apparition continued, his tone and posture were both very calm.
Just as Keygoire began to wonder what a phaser pistol was, an assassin dressed in armour that looked as though the shadow of a skeleton had been given form, emerged from behind the door and fired one of the miniature crossbow devices. An orange liquid that seemed to boil the air as it passed through it emerged from the weapon, it quickly flew across the room, far quicker than a traditional arrow from a bow. The orange liquid hit the captain’s chair, which proceeded to melt into molten slag, leaving the captain exposed. Valentine was quick on the draw and returned fire with another of the strange weapons. This assassin was as quick as they were heartless. They pulled one of their own in front of them, allowing their comrade to take the hit intended for them. Unlike the assassin dressed in dark skeletal armour, the other four were only dressed in the robes of the Cult of Tywyll. These robes did little to defend them from the burning nature of the orange liquid as it quickly ate through their skin, muscle, and bones.
“I got one captain.” The older man’s voice was gruff, with the texture of grit, yet he seemed joyful at his kill.
“Four attackers remain.” Theo updated the party.
Keygoire decided that it was time to show these otherworldly guests the true power of magic. He called forth the power of the runes that adorned his skin and unleashed a torrent of water from his hands that rushed towards the doorway into the bridge. As the flow of water raced into the outer hallway, one of the attackers were swept off their feet by the current. Captain Ellison used the opportunity to fire her device at the unlucky cultist, who was hit directly with the orange blast. Their flesh melted at the contact, with the water turning to steam as it too encountered the orange material. Keygoire then unleashed the power of runes etched onto his staff, the same spell that he had used yesterday to deal with the cultists within their own lair. Electricity jumped from the mage’s staff, arching through the air until it contacted the water, which then conducted the charge through the doorway, towards the assassins hiding behind the door. Two of the three remaining attackers were electrocuted by the spell. The last assassin, the one adorned in dark skeletal armour was left unscathed as their armour protected them from the wizard’s lightening.
It wasn’t enough to save them, as Sir Reginald used the moment of surprise to approach the doorway, hiding the other side of the wall to the assassin. As soon as they leaned out to discharge their weapon they were greeted by the knight’s holy sword removing their hand from their arm with a single, clean, slice. There was no blood, as the holy flame of the sword had cauterised the wound as quickly and smoothly as it had created it. Yet the effect was the same, the assassin was disarmed.
“Surrender cur, and you will not be harmed any further.” The knight was ever loyal to his code. Keygoire would sooner have just finished the foe, but the Order of Solas were useful allies, so he allowed them their code of mercy. It seemed that the assassin didn’t agree with Reginald’s ideas of mercy as they slashed at the knight with their remaining hand’s clawed gauntlet. They were too slow for the knight as he simply deflected the blow with his holy sword, removing their remaining arm at the elbow. Reginald then pulled the assassin into the bridge, as they struggled to free themselves. The knight dropped their foe to the floor and held his sword ready to be plunged into the assassin’s heart if they failed to cooperate.
Keygoire strode over to the, rather literally, disarmed assassin.
“Those fellows with you, I know them.” The wizard began by addressing the captive, before he looked up at the crew of the Abyss and continued. “They’re a rather bothersome group known as the Cult of Tywyll.” Keygoire then looked back at the assassin and continued. “But you’re not one of them. Your armour is far more impressive than theirs, it’s a similar material to that of this ship, so I guess that you’re from wherever these fine people are. So, who are you?”
“A servant of destruction, kill me, and send me to my God!” The voice of the assassin was strange, distorted, and otherworldly.
“There an assassin from the Brotherhood of Interitus. They’re the ones that downed our ship. We’ve captured their kind before, they never talk.” Captain Ellison’s voice sounded tired, as if the appearance of this assassin had sapped the energy from her soul.
“You want me to talk? Fine, I’ll tell you one thing, we have the boy that you so carelessly abandoned!” The assassin then erupted into laughter, the kind that Keygoire had only heard from those that had their minds twisted by madness.
“Quinn‽” Reginald gasped. He then pressed his blade against the thinner, flexible part of armour that covered the assassin’s throat. “Where is he?”
“The Cult of Tywyll has him.” The distorted voice was losing itself to madness.
“Why tell us this?” Captain Ellison asked, her question was simple, but wise.
“It’s a trap.” Reginald answered for her. Then Keygoire caught onto what the knight meant, the lair would give the remaining cultists the advantage.
“Yes, I fear that the brave knight is correct. Their lair, it’s only accessible through a single entrance, which would leave us trapped within a choke point. While we could use overwhelming magical force, with Quinn prisoner, we couldn’t be sure that he wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire.” Even Keygoire himself noticed that his voice had lost its traditional bluster.
“They hope to funnel us into a kill zone.” The gruff voice of Valentine summarised the situation.
“What’s our play then?” Captain Ellison seemed to be a woman of action.
“First of all we deal with our captive.” Keygoire affirmed, before he addressed Sir Reginald personally. “Will you be taking this one alive as well?” The knight looked conflicted but eventually left the assassin’s fate in their own hands, with a simple question.
“Do you repent your vile God, assassin?”
“Never!” The distorted voice barely had time to answer before the knight’s holy sword had dealt its deadly blow. As soon as the assassin’s soul left their unholy body, a strange thing happened, a nightmarish void of nothingness began to pull the body into itself. Keygoire immediately recognised this reaction and pushed Sir Reginald backward, out of the way of the void explosion. In the blink of an eye, the void had vanished, leaving a crater in the floor of the ship where the assassin’s body had previously rested.
“What was that?” Mix White asked, as they emerged from their hiding place.
“It was void space, at least it was according to all my sensors.” Theo answered.
“How did void space emerge here?” Captain Ellison continued.
“That was an Orb of Regna exploding. During the Düsterberg Invasion of the Third Age those Orbs played a vital role, but they were all destroyed. All but one of them, which I happen to know is kept safely away from these cultists. This means that these assassins have access to their dark God’s realm once more. It has now become vital that we stop them, before Tywyll, or as you seem to call him, Interitus, is able to once again attempt to invade this realm and have it unmade.” Keygoire’s tone had become deadly serious.
Now the fate of Honosreach rested on the shoulders of himself, a lone knight of Solas, and three strangers from another world.

© Robyn Timmons, 2025

Circuits & Sorcery

 Chapter Six - Strange New World.

The crew of the UAV-Abyss were in bad shape. Most of them hadn’t survived the crash landing on whatever planet this was. White was one of only three survivors. Themselves, captain Ellison, and Valentine, the head of security. Peters, who had been stationed next to White, hadn’t survived. What stood out to Sam, as they stared down at the full body bags in front of them, was the distance between themselves and Peters. The ships weapons expert had been sat only a few feet to the righthand side of White. That tiny distance had been the difference between life and death, with the pilot coming out on top. White felt a confusing mix of emotions. They felt glad, relieved, to have survived the crash. Because they lived there was a chance, they’d be able to see their husband again. Yet, that relief created a feeling of guilt, born from the fact that they were celebrating someone else having died in their place. Then there was the dreadful burden and feeling of responsibility for all this death. These thoughts rushed around in their head as they continued to look down at the five bodies, hidden within their body bags. Daniels, Peters, Smith, Swallow, and Fernsby, all gone in what felt like a single moment. Then there was Tyler, still held tight and secure within her cryopod.
“Theo?” White called out to the AI.
“Yes Mx White, do you require any additional medical attention?” Theo’s voice was calm, and furthermore, it was kind. White had a deep gash across their forehead, and quite a few nasty bruises along with it. Valentine, a trained field medic, had stitched up White’s head as best they could. It hurt but White felt like it was a punishment that they deserved. “Mx White, are you okay?” Theo’s question startled them as they had begun to dissociate again.
“I’m fine Theo. I need you to run some calculations.” White’s voice was distant, distracted.
“Certainly Mx White. What are we calculating?” Theo’s kind tone felt soothing.
“I need to know if there was anything I could have done differently? Could I have plotted the jumps better, or could I have decelerated more during our entry into the planet’s atmosphere?” The query came out as more of a plea than a question, White heard the desperation in their own voice and felt ashamed of it.
“I checked all jump data before I allowed the VSD to activate. While I didn’t have the time to arrange a one-hundred-percent safe jump, your calculations were as good as anyone could have done given the urgency of the situation. As for the entry, you did what little could have been done. The fact is that the Abyss was simply not designed to operate within a planet’s atmosphere.” Theo had an empathetic voice. White understood that they were a computer and therefore didn’t experience human emotions or empathy; but sometimes, it felt like they did. This was one of those times. The holographic projection of Theo attempted to place their hand on White’s shoulder. “You’re not responsible for these deaths, Sam.”
Had Theo used their first name? That was against the Alliance Navy protocol, which made it odd that an AI went against it. A human might do such a thing, given the right personality or situation, but AIs were supposed to always stick to the protocol.
White hadn’t been imagining it, Theo was becoming more human. His code was evolving. Interesting.
“Excuse me Mx White, our guests are here.” Theo sounded apologetic. Before White was able to address any of these developments, the AI blinked out of existence and reappeared standing next to the captain.

“Captain, our guests are here. With your permission, I’ll disengage this collection of cores and reassemble as one consciousness with our guests.” Ellison nodded her approval, and the projection of Theo vanished, just as a second instance of Theo walked through the door to the bridge with two of the strangest people that captain Ellison had ever seen. The first of them was a knight that looked like he belonged to the old-world fables or children’s fairytales. Chainmail was visible below the much more obvious knight’s plate armour, which was itself covered with a white tunic depicting an abstract picture of a woman’s face within a sun. Ellison guessed that this was a symbol of some local religious order. The only armour that was absent was a helmet, and considering the long, black, messy hair that suited the knight’s handsome face and dark tanned skin, Ellison considered this a positive thing.
The other man was dressed in dusty purple robes, tied taut at the waist with a belt, and a cloak of the same colour that covered most of the robe. He had a hat that looked as grand as it did ridiculous, it had a wide brim and a tall point. The strange man adjusted the positioning of his hat and then began to run his fingers through his long white beard. Unlike the knight, this man had old, tired looking skin with a pale complexion that was covered in tattoos. Every patch of exposed skin had been covered in tattoos depicting strange symbols. While they may have been letters in some language that Ellison didn’t understand, they looked more like runes or hieroglyphs to her. These two certainly made one hell of a first impression. Ellison pushed aside her initial impressions and stepped forward to introduce herself, before she was able to, however, the knight strode past her and right up to Valentine.
“My liege, as a knight of Solas, it would be my honour to aid you and your crew, as long as your intentions are pure, and free from evil.” The knight spoke to Valentine in a manner that made it clear that he assumed the gruff older man was the acting captain.
Ellison cleared her throat and introduced herself.
“I am the acting captain of the UAV-Abyss, you may call me Ellison. The man you assumed to be in command is our head of security, Valentine. I’m afraid the only other surviving member of our bridge crew is Mx White, they were our pilot. You have already met Theo, our on-board AI. May I ask who it is I have the pleasure of introducing myself and my crew to?” Ellison’s tone was firm, but not impolite. The knight turned to face her.
“You must accept my sincere apologies, captain Ellison. It’s rare, nay, unheard of in some parts, to find a female captain within the Kingdom of Quilldrake. You must be an exceptional commander to have overcome such adversity. I am Sir Reginald of Athelbury, Knight of Solas. My companion is the great and wise wizard Keygoire.”
“I can introduce myself, Sir Knight.” The strange man snapped at Reginald, before he turned to face Ellison and continued. “My younger companion is correct; I am the wizard Keygoire of Biblio. This is a queer craft you have, is it an airship of some variety?” The way he interrupted his own companion told Ellison that this wizard had a very high opinion of himself.
“The UAV-Abyss is a spaceship, but my pilot, Mx White, can better explain the specifics.” Ellison hoped that this response would be enough to prompt the wizard to move on but instead he simply turned towards White.
“Are you Mix White?” The question was more thrust at the pilot than politely asked.
“Yes, sir.” White answered the wizard. As the smallest member of the surviving crew, Ellison had become somewhat overprotective of the pilot.
“Now what does your female captain mean by spaceship, is she referring to realmspace or starspace?” Ellison felt her body tense as the wizard began to assault White with his questions. White did their best to answer the curious man.
Ellison took a long-controlled inhale of breath through her nose, held it there for a moment, and then released it in a long exhale through her mouth. It was a simple action, but one that allowed her to regain control of her emotions. When she tuned back into the conversation between Keygoire and White they had managed to reach an understanding. Apparently, the space between planets, stars, and other astronomical bodies was referred to as starspace on this world. Which led to an obvious question, which Ellison would have asked herself, if White hadn’t beaten her to it.
“If the space between planets is referred to as starspace, then what is realmspace?”
“What an interesting question.” The wizard chuckled to himself. “Realmspace is the space within the realms of the Gods. I trust your people have encountered the Gods?”
“I mean we certainly have religions, if that’s what you mean.” Ellison answered, causing the wizard to turn to face her again.
“Yes, it is, and your religious leaders commune with their Gods, do they not?” The wizard’s question seemed strange to the captain.
“Some believe they do, most take their Gods existence on faith, but there exists no tangible proof of any communication. Most of the people of the Alliance have accepted agnosticism over religion given this lack of any real evidence of the Gods existences.” This response seemed to agitate the wizard.
“No proof! No evidence! Do you not have access to magic where you come from, have the Gods truly abandoned you‽” Keygoire practically spat these words at the captain.
“I’m sorry, but this is where I must draw the line. Magic is nothing more than tricks for children, it’s far from real!”
“If not for magic, then what kept this vessel in the air‽” Again, the wizard spat his question at the captain.
“Science! Measurable, testable, controllable, science!”
“You wish for proof of magic, then you shall have it! Sir Knight, kindly remove your holy sword from its scabbard and show these uneducated fools’ proof of magic.” The wizard turned to the knight.
“As you wish, wise wizard.” Reginald addressed the wizard first, before he then looked briefly at each of the crew and addressed them all. “I draw my sword to be examined, and not as a means of engaging in combat.” The knight seemed much more polite than the wizard, which given his poor first impression was saying something.
Sir Reginald then withdrew his sword from its scabbard and as he did so, it erupted into flames that burned with no signs of slowing. Ellison couldn’t help herself, the curiosity was too much to control, so she stepped forward to examine the blade closer. As she did, she noticed the glowing symbols, similar to the tattoos that covered the wizard’s skin.
“What are those symbols?” The question was addressed towards the knight but of course it was the wizard who answered.
“Arcane runes. These runes are the original language of the Gods, first spoken and then written down by the greatest of all Gods, Glas. These runes are more than just simple symbols; anything scribed in them will materialise itself within our mortal realm. Have you never encountered them before?” The wizard’s tone still carried the same arrogance, but it had notably lost the aggression.
“We’ve never encountered anything like this.” The captain answered truthfully, before continuing with a follow up question. “Are these the same as your tattoos?”
“You’re a fast learner captain. Yes, I have covered my skin with the spells I need to always have access to. My staff is also covered in these runes, as long as I have hold of it, I am able to cast any of the spells that are etched onto its surface.”
“Interesting.” The captain didn’t really know what to say, then White asked what needed to be asked.
“If you’re able to use these runes to achieve, seemingly anything, would you be able to use them to return us to our home world?”
“That is an interesting notion, but I’m afraid that the simple answer is no. Teleportation is a tricky thing. The mages of Biblio have mastered the act of teleporting between predetermined platforms; each etched with a rune of teleportation and a rune giving it a specific name. However, teleporting from one random spot to another random spot has always been met with tragedy. From what the scholars of Biblio have determined, the problem is the movement of the world itself. Say I mean to teleport from here, to Biblio. Well, the world orbits the sun, so where I remember Biblio being, is not where it is in space right now. So, if I try and teleport there, I end up in the space where it used to be, rather than the space that it is currently in. Does that make sense?” The wizard seemed invested in his explanation.
“Strangely enough…” White began the sentence but before they were able to finish it, they were yanked backward by Valentine. A split-second later an assassin’s blade slammed into the floor where they had been standing.
Ellison pulled her phase pistol free and prepared for a fight!

© Robyn Timmons, 2025

Circuits & Sorcery

Chapter Five - A Useful Hostage.

The two state-of-the-art corvid BOI-ENVSD model battleships hovered above the alien world of Honosreach, observing the still burning remains of the UAV-Abyss. These ships were designed for combat both in and out of a planet’s atmosphere, and as such, shared a lot of similarities with the cheaper in-atmo jet fighters. The biggest difference was the shape of the wings, which were arched in the opposite direction of the traditional fighter jets.
Within the cockpits of each of these battleships was a strange orb, absent of all colour or shape. The orb looked like a hole in the universe, it wasn’t dark, because it technically wasn’t any colour at all. It was a purely cosmic thing, something that belonged to a God beyond the understanding of mere mortals. Through this orb, and many more like it, Interitus, peered from his realm of nothingness into the universe that belonged to the mortals.
Rhys couldn’t help but stare into the empty void of the orb. As he did so he could feel the thing feed on his very being. The orb, like its creator, Interitus, wanted to consume everything, reduce the universe down to literal nothingness. Even the atoms that made-up everything within this mortal universe were an afront to the God of Destruction. Because of this, the Void Orb slowly fed on the atoms of the universe around it, weakening anything and anyone that got too close to it. Rhys, and the other four members of the Corvids, had spent the better part of two years searching for the UAV-Abyss before they happened to stumble upon it. This had allowed the Void Orb to feed on them for those two long years. While Rhys was dedicated to his God, he was beginning to feel the effects of being within proximity to the Void Orb. It was like a cancer, feeding on the strength of his body, weakening him, reducing him, slowly down to nothing.
Although this had been worth it, as the Corvids’ mission was almost a success. They had found the UAV-Abyss, drifting slowly and silently through the vacuum of space, en-route to Ociea Prime, the homeworld of the Alliance. The crew of the Abyss and its on-board AI had uncovered the truth of the Brotherhood’s VSD capabilities. If they were able to return to Ociea Prime and report this information to their superiors, then the Brotherhood would lose their most powerful weapon. VSD travel was believed by everyone within the known galaxy to be impossible to navigate. Therefore, when the Corvids appeared out of nowhere, destroyed key resources, ships, or other high-profile targets, the Alliance, or wider galactic community assumed that these were random hit-and-run attacks by greedy pirates. As long as this remained true, the Brotherhood would be able to barter for peace with the Alliance while continuing to attack them with targeted VSD strikes. They would be able to have their peace and be able to fight their war at the same time. Therefore, the UAV-Abyss, her crew, and the AI all had to die.
The mission had so far cost the Corvid squad three of their five members, including their previous leader. This left Rhys in command now.
The UAV-Abyss had made a desperate series of blind VSD jumps, hoping that they would be able to lose their attackers along the way.
They had been unsuccessful.
Rhys, and his squadmate, Laka, were suspended above the wreckage of the Abyss. The massive frigate had broken itself apart as it entered the planet’s atmosphere, eventually making a hard landing along some hills filled with various crops and a single windmill. The wreckage of the Abyss was covered in several fires, some large, some smaller, all raging out of control along her hull. It was night, which meant that these fires were the only things that illuminated the destroyed ship.
Rhys watched as three figures proceeded to make their way towards the wreckage. This world was unknown to the Brotherhood. As far as Rhys was aware, this planet wasn’t registered with any species of the galactic community. Yet, it was not out of the view of the Gods. Interitus knew of this world, which he had called Honosreach. The God even had followers here. Apparently, he had almost managed a successful invasion of this strange world thousands of years ago. Rhys thought back to his audience with the God of destruction within void space. The abyss itself had looked him in the eyes; the nothingness took a form which was beyond the understanding of Rhys’ mortal mind. It was nothing given empty form. The impression of something within vacant space, that spoke within Rhys’ own mind. The conversation felt like a false memory, the recollection of a dream long since forgotten, but its impression still clearly left within Rhys’ thoughts.
This was how he knew that those three figures had one of the God’s orbs on them, they had stolen it from an order of Interitus nearby. As well as killing the survivors of the Abyss, Rhys and Laka, were to kill these three and retrieve the orb for the Cult of Tywyll.
Rhys felt weak, as he struggled to keep his tired mind focused on the three figures below him. He looked into the orb again, wishing that it would grant him strength instead of consuming it, but it didn’t do a thing. Then he noticed that the three figures had split up, they left one of their own behind, as the other two began to climb the debris towards the wreckage of the Abyss.
Now was the time to act.

Trevik found himself trapped within the void, unable to free himself, despite how much he thrashed around. It wasn’t that he couldn’t move, he was free to flail his arms and legs around as much as he wanted, it was that there was nothing to thrash against, nothing for his flailing limbs to get purchase on. He simply floated there, uselessly, completely helpless against the punishment of the God that he had failed. Until now, he hadn’t understood the true depths of fear that a man could feel.
He understood now though.
His soul, his mind, his consciousness, had been ripped from his fragile human body. If he tried hard enough, it was possible for him to be able to glimpse the view from his eyes. The connection between his soul and his body had not yet been completely severed. Unless he was able to flee this void, this realm of unmade reality, the realm of destruction known to his people as Uffern, he knew that his mortal flesh would be killed, offered to Tywyll as a sacrifice. Then, with his soul truly unbound from his body, the full extent of his punishment would begin.
He wept in fear, as his soul thrashed about uselessly within the void.
The sensation of the tears rolling down his cheek were distant. It was a strange sensation, to be almost completely detached from his body. He put everything he had into willing his paralyzed body to move. What had once been second nature was now almost impossible. After minutes of effort, he felt the little finger on his right-hand twitch. This wasn’t enough, his executioner would be at his body any moment now. He thrashed his soul about some more in the void, but nothing happened.
Trevik allowed himself to remain still as he focused on seeing through his mortal eyes, it was difficult, but he managed a flash of vision, an almost static image. It filled his heart with dread.
There were two strangers among his cult members. These strangers were dressed in clothing he didn’t recognise but they were dark. Each of them looked as if they were wearing an extra skeleton that lay across their armour, the bones were made of a dark metal, as dark as shadow. The strangers’ hands ended in razor sharp claws. Their faces were hidden behind masks that resembled the skull of a bird.
This was it; these were his executioners. He screamed as loud as he could for as long as he could into the void. All that changed was that he felt a small amount of liquid drip from his lower lip onto his chin. His mortal body was drooling as his soul struggled uselessly in the void. He continued to thrash about and scream, but nothing changed for him.
Not until the stranger started cutting into his flesh. When this happened, Trevik was glad of the distance between his soul and his body as it allowed for the pain to feel muted and less intense than he knew it would otherwise. Eventually the cutting stopped, as his soul was severed from his body, but things only got worse from there.

Rhys pushed the plump boy into the cult’s lair, hidden deep within the cave that had been shown to him by his God. As he had expected, the cult members, the few that remained, were all gathered within the main chapel area of the hideout. Nine cultists were kneeling down, preying to Interitus, in a circle around a central figure. The man in the centre of this ritual was Trevik, the previous leader of this useless cult that had failed their God. He was knelt down, with his head slumped forward, unmoving.
Rhys grabbed the man’s head roughly by its hair and pulled it upwards so that he could look into the man’s eyes. They were glazed over, empty, like that of a corpse, yet this body wasn’t cold or dead. This was obvious as he began to drool. His soul was torn between the mortal realm, unable to fully leave until his body died, and the void space where Interitus lived.
Rhys slowly ran the end of one of his claws against Trevik’s face, leaving behind a slice in the man’s skin that quickly filled with blood. Rhys was playing with his victim. The truth was that he had no idea how much the disgraced cult leader could feel, but his torture would achieve two goals. First of all, it would show the remaining nine members of this useless cult what happened when they failed their God, and secondly, it would terrify the fat boy they had picked up at the bottom of the pile of rubble. Rhys continued to play with his victim, slowly ending Trevik’s worthless life.

Hours had passed by the time he had finished and as soon as he turned to the boy, he began to talk. The pitiful whelp’s name was Quinn, and he was a squire of Sir Reginald, a knight and worshipper of Solas. The other figure that Rhys saw leave the boy behind was Keygoire, a wizard of some renown. Quinn told them that it was the wizard that had the Orb of Regna. The poor boy was a blubbering mess by the time he had finished answering the questions that Rhys had for him. The interrogation had been successful, but Rhys felt frustrated that he hadn’t been able to play with his victim a little more.
“Laka.” Rhys’ voice sounded distorted and strange through the modulator, but his frustration came through clearly.
“Yes Sir!” The response was fast but delivered in the same distorted tone as his own.
“Take four of these cultists, launch a surprise attack on the crew of the Abyss as well as this wizard and knight. If you’re smart you should be able to ambush them, ending the fight before it has a chance to begin. The crew of the Abyss are injured, and the wizard and knight are unaware of our technology. The advantage is with you, don’t waste it!”
“Sir! Yes Sir!” She then pulled her phase pistol free from its holster, checked the plasma reserves, then re-holstered it.
“Laka, if you should fail, send them back here, we’ll use this lair as an ambush spot. Taunt them with the boy, rescuing him will become their priority. It always does with these hero types!” Laka nodded, but Rhys imagined the annoyance she felt at his lack of confidence in her abilities. After this she grabbed four of the cultists at random.
“Do you scum understand me?” She barked at the cultists.
“Yes, my lady. Our lord, Tywyll, blessed us with knowledge of your language.”
“Good, follow me, you lag behind, and I’ll shoot you myself, understand?”
“Yes, my lady.” All four cultists answered in unison.
Then Laka began her march out of the lair and towards the wreckage of the UAV-Abyss.

© Robyn Timmons, 2025

Alien Earth First Impressions

I waited up until 1AM to watch this show the moment it released, I was so excited for it. Yet now I sit here the next day after having had a night’s rest on my feelings and I just feel so disappointed with it. This is exact opposite feeling I had with Alien Romulus.
If I had to sum up my instant feelings after having watched the first two episodes, the only two that are currently out, then I would say it’s bad.