Beneath the eponymously named Zarek Mountains, the great Avos slowly traversed its territory. The dirt and stone of the mountains, so jagged and dry, were its shell. The great spine of the Rumiga plane spanned north to south, and top to bottom. The plane wasn’t just wide and long, but also tall and deep. Deeper than comparable frontier planes with lesser foundations. Zarek was understandably proud of his home. Pride and arrogance, a hallmark of the young. And the Avos was much younger than he looked.

It was two centuries after the Shattering that it first drew breath, consciousness awoke atop the remnants of a broken spirit. Memories of things past blurred the line for the Avos, and for a long time, it wasn’t sure which were its memories and which ones it inherited. Those shaped its mannerisms and gravitas and aided it greatly in subjugating the other extant Avos.

The shattered planar core had been its birthing place, and it would have been a boon without peer had it the knowledge and ability to take advantage. Alas, even now, Zarek lacked the insight and might to fully subsume the core, but it was only a matter of time.

The mountains on the surface were like the shells of its progeny, while the underground was its body. Zarek’s head couldn’t exit the boundaries though, nor could it peek beyond the foothills. But the surface area was nearly a third of the plane’s, so it was fine. As for underneath, well, it was a similar third, save for the sacred ruins. The ruins that slowly siphoned and contained the core’s energies and twisted it for their own use.

Zarek’s head and neck moved idly underneath the ground, jaws chewing slowly as it digested the Chaos shards that had been traded to it for passage. The Imperials were the most annoying thorns in their literal side, but they were akin to a force of nature. Just like Zarek was, in truth, but they come from a greater and more terrifying power. At the very least, coexistence with the Verdanians was possible as opposed to the Chaos Lords, or those blood-crazed tribals in the north. Those from the Coalition, the locally called Federation, were actually the ideal allies, but their ambition was larger than their capabilities.

As it frequently happened, Zarek’s mind was lost to his inherited memories. The previous core holder wasn’t a Stonetoise like it was, but a rockwyrm. A creature whose skin was made of granite and obsidian, hard and sharp stones, and one who ate the bedrock only to release sand and gravel back into the dirt. Back then, Rumiga wasn’t Rumiga, but simply another piece of the great continent.

Planar cores were nothing more than foci for the powerful essence and Chaos flows that snaked through the land, and at each nexus, precisely engineered structures had been built to harness that power. The cores were the embodiment of the power over the lands, and whoever possessed it were its rulers.

And then, the Shattering happened. Zarek didn’t have any memories during that time. Well, vague and fragmented ones at least. All it knew was that the piece of earth it had been born into was merely a fragment of the greater whole, even if that particular fragment hosted treasures and wonders of great power. It also knew that there was probably a large remnant of the great continent but was much farther than could be imagined. Sometimes, it felt connected to a distant place. But only sometimes.

Crack!

Chaos shards were turned to dust in its mouth, and its potency siphoned away into its body. A veritable feast had been traded for passage, but it only took a single bite to consume it all. Power and knowledge, fragments of memories, rushed to its mind and it sank further into its reverie.

Chaos shards were only found in stronger Wyldlings, but as soon as the creatures gained sentience, the shards became Chaos wells and were functionally useless to their slayers. Unlike the shards that were the crystallization of filtered Chaos, or the dust that were its fragments. An easy source of power for Avos and their ilk.

Zarek slumbered and meditated in turns. Days and weeks passed, maybe even Seasons. It knew not, as nothing ever changed for it. Instinct had it release seeds and fragments from its body, which slowly grew to more of its kind. Some of those managed to reach adulthood and were then pressed to service, while a greater fraction simply became food for the predators.

Zarek slumbered as it couldn’t when it was young. For to sleep was to invite becoming prey. But now, it was the apex predator and who would dare to hunt it?

And then, Zarek woke up. An intruder. Eyes focused on the apparition floating in front of its eyes. A man with silver hair, green eyes, and an empty circle and the crescent moon symbol on his tanned cheek.

Chaos Lord.

__________

The Watcher’s incarnation grinned as he gazed upon the surprised look on the Avos’ face. Admittedly, a Stonetoise’s head was much less expressive than a human’s, but Zarek’s Animus churned and popped, boiled and quivered, in response to his presence. The fear and sudden terror fed the Watcher’s Anima, making him shiver in satiation. Emotions, strong emotions directed at his august personage, held such heady flavours and were much better than the vintages produced by his court.

Still, he didn’t have much time to tarry. Already, he could feel Rumiga attempting to expel him, hampered only by his tainted connection to the Imperial’s subjugation tool. He leaked Chaos out of his Well, however, and he only had a minute or so before the leakage dropped his reserves to below what he needed. There was time for a little chat, though.

“I give you my permission, spirit,” he said with a smirk. “You may yield.”

Pompous, of course, and it was utterly impossible for the creature to yield its core to him. Doing so would not only mean an end to freedom but possibly life and the possibility of rebirth.

And as the Watcher expected, his words fanned the flames of rage as Zarek reared back and roared. Then, a moment later, its humongous head snapped towards his floating form, and its jaws slammed down.

The Watcher wasn’t there. Though his incarnation held little of his true power, several of his techniques were embedded into its makeup. Doing so precluded its use by his other incarnations, but that was the price for using premade skills.

The incarnation floated back, borne by the very winds of the Avos’ passage. It brought his body just far back enough to avoid getting eaten, but not so far that his counterattack would be out of reach.

As for why he was doing this…well, with the Gemheart practically his, it was time to disrupt the rest of the anchors that stabilised Rumiga. The plane had to wobble, spin, and sink. Only then could his purposes be fulfilled.

Chaos gathered at the tip of his finger even as he floated and dodged out of the way of the Avos’ enraged bites. The earth and stone around them began to tremble and then shatter. Fragments flew towards his Corpus, but they were too feeble to penetrate his Protective Field.

Still, a storm of sand would eventually wear away a mountain of stone. Already he could feel his Field begin to shatter at the edges. But it was too slow to truly hamper him. With this incarnation, he wasn’t as strong as his true self. The plane would quickly drain him of power otherwise. He was just a tad weaker than a Marquis, halfway between an Earl and that rank. Just barely enough.

Zarek was strong, but that strength was too one-dimensional. It was enormous, with ponderous strength and resilience, but its Anima defences were weaker than what a creature, well, spirit, of its level should have.

The Chaos at his fingertip pulsed. It grew bigger than his fist, then contracted to the size of a grain of rice, before ballooning back to a large ball as he added more of his reserve into the attack.

The underground chamber’s support stalagmites and stalactites shattered and the ceiling came down. Watcher let his Corpus flow with the turbulent winds while Zarek’s head and neck ignored the large rocks.

“You arrogant rotter!” the creature yelled, and much worse, Watcher saw the rage behind its eyes begin to cool. It was replaced with a cold glint as it reared back. Its mouth opened wide, and instead of biting down at the Watcher, it expelled a cone of obsidian shards.

Now, the Watcher couldn’t use the winds to dodge. The eddies around each shard conflicted and clashed, and if he followed it, he would be torn to shreds. No choice, however. He gritted his teeth and hardened his Protective Field over his Corpus’ vital points. There were fewer points compared to a mortal, just head, heart, and senses, really. Of course, he had to protect his joints and muscles, too, otherwise, this body wouldn’t be able to move. He focused on protecting his right shoulder and arm since he’d been focusing his Chaos into his right index finger.

The shards tore through his Field and cut deep into his body. And it was then he knew that he had miscalculated.

The shards weren’t completely physical in nature and held an aspect of Fate. Elsewhere, he felt his other bodies, and each of them grew wounds that mirrored this one’s.

“Traitor Sun,” he muttered a curse. Still, he would endure, and heal, even if it would take time. His timeline was quite flexible and not all of the pieces were ready. He could take the time to heal. But…

He would pay back each wound tenfold.

He slipped past the cone of obsidian shards and arrived right between Zarek’s eyes. Now the cold glint of anger changed to fear and wariness.

Watcher pushed his finger and touched Zarek’s nose. The condensed ball of Chaos popped. It spread a tracery of green across the creature’s face, even as the oversized worm reared back and roared in pain. Its head thrashed about, and Watcher was vaguely aware of the whole mountain quaking with its pain.

Landslides, of mud and shattered rocks, water reservoirs burst and flooded the springs, then the rivers. Watcher could vaguely sense all of this happening, but he didn’t have the luxury to sit back and enjoy. His bodies were still being shredded by the lingering obsidian wounds. Chaos seeped into the material, heating it up. Obsidian was nearly as bad as Nyctferrum, but at least the stone didn’t mutually annihilate the Chaos.

“Foolish Avos,” he muttered as he watched the creature thrash. It pulled its head and neck back into the stone, and he followed.

The Watcher’s taint would eventually kill Zarek, but only if it didn’t purge it. The planar core contained enough power to do so, but in the process, Zarek would lead him directly to it. Once he secured the core, it would be another step in his plan completed, and his goals, ever closer.

Unfortunately, the wily land god diverted his path and closed off every avenue he could follow. That was fine as that part of the plan was a long shot anyway. What was more important was to bring the creature out of play, and leave him that much leeway to bring Rumiga under his influence.

He had plotted centuries since his vassal, the Whisperer, discovered the path here. No ordinary plane would do to fuel his Ascension. Well, it would actually, but using this plane would give him a powerful leg up when it came time to reach for the Firmament. And every advantage was needed to fight off those monsters lingering in the Abyss.

The world was wider than could be believed and there were many, many things to watch and derive pleasure from. Just that he now wanted to dip his fingers in and stir the pot.

Laughing to himself, he pulled his Anima tendrils out of the Corpus and allowed it to disintegrate. This severed the threads that connected it to the rest of his bodies, which stopped the ruinous damage. Well, he had been wounded capturing the Gemheart and was still recovering. What was a few more years when everything came to fruition?