Galactic Shift: Journey to Ithca

Journal of Cyrus M’gdda: Entry Unknown

My once dear friend and trusted mentor, H’yverant, promised his family he’d find a way to deter the mythic spectacle that consumed our world and plunged our side of the cosmos into a chaotic darkness: a shameless lie. Our home, Yu’dandga, was the epicenter of Their arrival. Our entire galaxy was unequivocally obliterated in the heat of an instant. The signs doomed many climates within the Nebulas system long before Their plank-second appearance. With our technology, we observed Them, but unbeknownst to our scientists, They were also observing us. They crossed three distant suns within two of our minutes. Their travel speed hounded our greatest minds, even more so for those like me.

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For I belong to the Striker’s class. Belonged. H’yverant promised me I’d soon become one of the finest scholars he’d ever seen. He lied. To me, and the rest of the E-long–my Shi’na…not present among the survivors, with great regret. There are few of us left drifting with the carcasses of stars and the dust of former worlds as our numbers continue to thin under haunting stipulations. The self-destructions grow more cumbersome to prevent with each instance. 

The Planets loom over us, taunting our company with shelter, food, and a possible way out of the black hell, but we leave them behind before embarking on another month or two toward our desolate grave. There’d been over a dozen close encounters, colliding with asteroids; each instance was a bittersweet nightmare, but the collective glee we shared when the identified black hole lifted our spirits from entropy. With its gravitational field reeling us closer by the hour, we painfully rejoiced. I am not ashamed to confess to the silent yearning for our collective extinction. We’d crave it for close to a year, only the closer we encroached on our doom, the clearer his image became. One of a young man who hauled our ship through the vacuum of space, known by his people as Agatheio.

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Journal of Cyrus M’gdda: Entry Five

Our E-long spent many nights learning the way of the Ithcans. Their rituals & practices have a familiar tone under a spiritual guise. Their oneness & intimacy with the sea matched my people’s obsession with the stars. Even though he’d been what they call a ‘prince, ’ Agatheio housed our recuperation & called for our immediate hospitality & instruction. Their sharpest minds coordinated with what we had & crafted a physical & mental routine to ease the tension of what their observers called the Galactic Shift.

We had all but confirmed the Prince’s premonition of the Yu’danga star cluster & our housing galaxy, Stormronus’ destruction. His father, King Mortepus put to work his greatest astronomers with all the use of our past truth that haunted us still. They would come. For this galaxy, death would be unavoidable, we surmised. The moments seemed to slip by when we could be suffering Their malice at any point. 

We pooled resources–what was left of H’yverant’s research. Left safeguarded by his only apprentice. Most of his notes fell on the findings of our neighbors in the Gintaron galaxy. An astroanalyst named Mi’jucal Jaccobi of the Qui’iganda Republic. Audio broadcasts were all that we could offer to share & dissect. However, these served to elicit further dismay as the researcher had no offerings but one message. 

“Fear Them,” was among Jaccobi’s ramblings.

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Journal of Cyrus M’gdda: Final Entry

To my company, they’d focused worry on the impending Whirm drifting through the stardust. So much that the surrounding threats of Ithcur felt trivial–petty. Not that they didn’t have their problems before welcoming us, and by extension, the looming threat. Talks of an Itarian warship circulating the edges of the solar system aroused fear in the council. Whispers spread of an outlaw group of marauders having crash-landed in the drylands & gave pause to salt and soil harvesters. 

I’ve spent an extended time with the Prince & have personally garnered his insight on such matters. His calm but naive demeanor & inquisitive nature were challenging to decipher, but there was no formal code to break. Something as simple as walking or breathing he did with greater ease than a natural zealot’s control over a territory. He is a spectacle made to haul a moon over his shoulders. I’ve never seen such concentrated power from a passive warrior, handling supernovas with grace & gravitas with strength that rivals the fabled All Father.

The Marauders posed the most immediate threat to the King, and to put the people at ease, his son was sent to the Thread fields to negotiate terms. They'd held hostage a bean village. Agatheio would return them all to the castle, halted in time, their movements and words minced by the seconds and held in the stranglehold of Zamon’s domain. When the Itarian gravitational probe crossed the star cluster’s lunar bridge, the Prince crushed the fine metal between two comets. I am not yet convinced of our victory against the cosmic nightmare of the Whirm, but I know if we somehow manage to stop Their rampage, by the will & hope of the universe, the Prince of Ithca will have been involved.

COMING SOON