"No." The woman's voice was firm. "We don't have that kind of time."
Reaching into the void of her pocket dimension, she withdrew a small vial. The moment it appeared, the runes etched into the Fate chamber's walls trembled, reacting as if in the presence of something immensely powerful.
Every figure in the chamber instantly focused on the vial, their expressions shifting.
"What could make the very foundations of this chamber react this way?" they all had this kind of thought.
The woman controlled the vial, suspending it at the center of the table. A soft glow emanated from within, illuminating the chamber with an eerie, celestial light.
Inside the vial swirled a viscous liquid, its color like a starry night, moving as if entire galaxies were contained within.
The Ancient Robot, the oldest among them, spoke with a metallic voice that carried a rare note of curiosity as it looked toward the woman.
"What is this?"
Quintessa also narrowed her eyes as she examined the vial, its starry liquid casting shifting reflections across the chamber.
Before the woman could respond, she said, "Dozens of law auras are emanating from it." Her voice was low and filled with disbelief.
A figure cloaked in shadow leaned forward. "Dozens of laws?" His voice was explicit but skeptical. "That's impossible. No known material can hold that many fundamental forces without tearing itself apart. This defies every logical constraint."
Another figure scoffed. "Of course it does. That's the point. It's not known. We're witnessing something outside our understanding—even ours."
The tension thickened.
The Ancient Robot's lenses whirred as it scanned the vial. "Confirmed. Multiple law signatures detected, layered and stable. No degradation. This is not a natural phenomenon. It was engineered."
Quintessa's grip tightened around her throne. "Engineered by what? Or who?" as she looked at Merita.
No one responded. They all shared the same thought: whatever created this vial defied the rules of their universe to an unimaginable degree; it twisted them.
Merita finally spoke up. "I don't know what this substance is," she admitted. "But I found it on my way here. I saw an entire river of this material stretching through the void. I didn't waste any time, so I hurriedly took only two vials before the river disappeared. And this is one of them."
The others exchanged glances. Some nodded, accepting her explanation. Others remained skeptical, silently wondering if she had taken more than just two.
But none would risk their reputation or their alliance over a dispute about possession, furthermore, Merita was no less weaker than any of them so taking anything from her would be extremely difficult.
Vorex leaned forward, his expression one of curiosity. "Why now, Merita? Why reveal this here?"
Merita's gaze flickered toward Quintessa.
"I have a feeling," she said slowly. "If you use this on the Oracle Drive… it might repair it."
A heavy silence enveloped the Fate Room as Merita's words lingered in the room. To beings of their caliber, a feeling was no trivial matter.
A gut instinct from one of them wasn't brushed aside easily since it is equivalent to prophecy. Their senses were too refined, too attuned to the threads of fate and causality.
If someone like Merita felt something, it was only a matter of time before that reality followed.
The others exchanged silent glances as understanding passed between them. Even the most skeptical among them knew better than to dismiss it.
Quintessa's gaze remained locked on the swirling galactic substance within the vial. If Merita was right… if this truly could repair the Oracle Drive, then they wouldn't need half a cosmic year. They might have the answers as soon as possible.
The Ancient Robot said coldly "Your theory is untested. What if this substance corrodes the Oracle Drive instead of restoring it?"
"We don't have the luxury of caution," Merita shot back. "You said it yourself—the laws of the universe are unstable. If we delay, we might not have a drive left to repair."
Emperor Vorex, silent until now, let out a low sigh. "She has a point." His sharp gaze swept across the others. "Every moment we waste, our enemy grows stronger and our chances of winning dwindles."
The gathered powerful individuals exchanged glances. These were beings who had stood at the pinnacle of existence for eons, yet today, they were scrambling for solutions like desperate mortals.
Quintessa finally moved by extending her hand toward the vial and then it drifted toward her, spinning slowly in the air as if resisting her touch.
The moment her fingers closed around it—
FZZZT!
The runes of the chamber flared violently, blinding light flooding the room. An invisible force surged through her arm, ancient laws stirring within her. For a moment, the Fate chamber itself shook.
Then—silence.
The others watched cautiously as Quintessa steadied her breathing, her silver armor dress shimmering in the room. She met their gazes, her expression unreadable.
"This substance," she murmured, her voice laced with something between awe and unease, "It's not just something unknown" Her fingers tightened around the vial. "It's… a remnant of something terrific. Something ancient."
The Ancient Robot's mechanical eye flickered. "How 'ancient.'"
Quintessa exhaled. "Older than any one of us, it is as…," she paused then continued when she saw how serious the situation was. " As old as the universe"
That sent a ripple through the chamber. Even in a gathering of beings who had outlived entire civilizations, the idea of something preceding them was unsettling and furthermore, it was as old as the universe.
"So what do we do?" Emperor Vorex asked.
Quintessa looked toward Merita, then back at the vial, "We use it," she declared. "And we find out exactly what we're dealing with."
••••
Meanwhile, deep beneath the surface of the Zerg planet, the young Queen stood in the heart of a massive living structure, an incubation chamber of terrifying scale.
All around her, fleshy sacs pulsated with life, each one carrying the seeds of future conquest: millions upon millions of Royal Broodmothers.
These were no ordinary spawn. They were sub-queens, born to rule regional fronts, each one destined to lead entire armies in distant, hostile environments.
Whether it be icy wastelands, molten terrains, or bio-toxic jungles, these broodmothers would evolve and breed forces perfectly suited to their biomes.
But for now, they lay dormant—mere embryos.
The Queen got out from the throbbing flesh of the planet and looked down her head toward the fleshy ground. Her body twitched, and from her back, dozens of massive black tendrils emerged.
They plunged into the planet's surface, burying themselves deep within its core.
Then she looked up and screeched. The sound did not just echo—it resonated, rippling through the air and across the world like a psychic shockwave.
Immediately, the planet reacted as It began to throb and then expand as if something massive was swelling inside it.
Then again, it throbbed and expanded.
And then again.
The Queen was injecting her very essence into this fleshy-like planet, embedding her genetic code and her young instinctual memory into the planetary network.
This essence she gave them contained her power but not her full power and abilities.
Abilities like Devouring were passed on but diluted. Her children would be able to consume and adapt, but not endlessly. She gave them Evolution but with built-in ceilings. The higher a Broodmother's status and strength, the more they could evolve, but none would be able to reach her level.
She was building a chain of command, not foes.
After ten long minutes, the Queen pulled back her tendrils. Her body slumped slightly due to the immense undertaking she did. Then, the fleshy ground beneath her feet began to convulse.
The sky turned dark. The very flesh of the planet twisted and reshaped itself, letting out eerie, soundless howls. The size of the planet began to expand unnaturally as if bloated, and it was transforming into something greater.
After quite some time, the transformation fully ended, and the fleshy planet transformed into Prime Hive Mind, a world-sized brain connecting every egg, every larva, and every emerging Broodmother under a single, evolving network—a network that answered only to her.
In the darkness of the incubation chambers, the Royal Broodmothers began to stir.
Their young minds, which were still forming, began to twitch in response to the call.
Soon… they would awaken. And when they do—War would follow