Forum:Grimoire:Enemies/Legend of the God Eater

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The Legend of the God Eater subsection of the Grimoire covers the history of Cryth, the God Eater and his ascension to godhood under Xivu Arath as well as his timely demise.

The Haunting of the Deep

I’ve heard its voice.

I recently received a report from some of my workers down in the Hellmouth. That place is damned. I know it. After the Spider left the shore, someone needed to take charge. So I did. I loved the aesthetic of Spider’s Associates but I never felt they were used enough. So I kept their armor design and hired some new members. The Spiders Palace is also now owned by me. No one has any bounties on my head because I keep the drinks flowing but they have no clue what I’ve been doing. I’ve been using my power to explore Admittance. When we finally made it past those god-forsaken hive, we found it. IT. And it called to me. I need it destroyed. It should not be found by anyone. That THING should not be here. But I won’t be able to destroy it. Not me. My squad went through hell just to get me to catch a glimpse of it. There is something about it though. A twisted, dark beauty. For now, I hope this reaches you in time, Zarik, you can’t go down there.

Your friend, Weker

Awaken Iron!

The crowd gathered within the altar of the High Celebrant. At the front of the room, the God Eater stands aboard the pedestal flashing his blade to the crowd of Hive. The Celebrant pokes at Cryth’s shoulder from behind. “Whatever you say, just say it and make it quick. I don’t like all these people in my space.” Cryth nodded before clearing his throat and beginning to speak.

“Brothers, sisters, all Hive alike: I have come to make an announcement about our immediate future, if you are willing to listen.” The Hive murmured silently before Cryth continued.

“With the help of the High Celebrant, I have discovered a celestial body of masterful energies unknown to the rest of this universe and its people. Closer inspection reveals a group of 45 planets and moons orbiting a single, unending star, powered by 4 smaller neutron stars.”

Cryth turned to his left and stepped off the pedestal, pacing back and forth while scratching his blade against the ground. “The system’s beings call themselves the Irundaal, and they pride themselves on their expansive technologies. Able to prolong a stars life artificially; How preposterous, yet intriguing.”

The High Celebrant lowers his boomer and leans to the side. “Why do you tell us this?”

Cryth turns away from the crowd. “I say this, because…” He quickly turns back to face the crowd, slamming his cleaver to the ground to obscure the Hive’s view with blazing fire.

“We will destroy their system and all their precious trinkets!” He shouts at the crowd as they begin to cheer.

The High Celebrant confronts Cryth. “Since when do you call the shots? Last time you did something like this, you almost got us killed!”

“The Hive are ghastly conquerors. We do not live by law, we live by death! Besides, Xivu Arath will be pleased with the Irundaal’s extinction, don’t you agree?”

The High Celebrant stood silently.

Cryth chuckled. “Now! Stand tall my acolytes! For we will take our anger and lust for battle to the Irundaal’s doorstep!”

The Hive cheered excessively for their new mission: the extinction of Irundaal.

Xivu Arath was not present, but she was pleased, very pleased.

Banished in Fire

Crisis Exigent call #287

Attention all available Irundaal High Warriors, this is Imperial General Zavah’n speaking.

The Hive have deployed their largest fleet to attack the Irundaal Chroma-Orb, passing the Gambler’s Ridge en route through the Chroma-Vale Ring.

The Irundaal Irregularity Strike Force has already been deployed, but they have been entirely wiped out as their ships were crushed with a purple magnetic void of life, weaponized as a mobile energy source.

If the Hive destroy the star, our system will be eradicated without a trace. It is imperative that all militarized forces be put towards defending against the attack. We will not lose this system to the Hive.

^^^---{CHROMA-GORGE RING OCCUPIED! REINFORCEMENTS NOTIFIED FOR DEPLOYMENT!}---^^^

It seems as if the attack on the Chroma-Vale Ring was a simple subversion of our expectations. The Hive champion ((CRYTH)) has released an ontological “weapon” across the Chroma-Gorge Joint Armada, acting as a sort of psychological insanity inducement device to the Irundaal High Warriors. This weapon is seen in the form of a shadowy imitation of its originator before disappearing immediately. From what information has been gathered, the weapon will speak a few words before its targets succumb to insanity.

A warning has been issued to all 45 of Irundaal’s worlds: If the device makes its way to your position, avert your eyes and cover your ears. If you do not hear the words spoken, then you will live.

The Hive have not deployed their most powerful champion, meaning this must be child’s play for them. The Hive have taken so much from us, so much from me, but they will not take this system. For when the Berserker reaches high orbit, the Hive will find their souls adjacent to their bodies, banished in fire.

RELEASE ((BERSERKER)) {unit 2754368} INCREASE [NEUTRINO SCATTER] {10x10}

Anarchy Accelerant

Chaos! Chaos!

The Irundaal will be lost to chaos!

These maggots lack the intelligence of the Hive. They lack the hunger for blood that keeps us alive.

Our master’s subversion has worked!

Cryth’s fleets have pierced the Chroma-Gorge Ring,
burning holes in the Gorge Ring Forcefield,
peering into the bright glare of the Chroma-Gorge Wormhole.

The God Eater has seized control of the Chroma-Slade’s Deep Vessel,
using its connection to the Deep to spread his imitation
across Irundaal’s worlds, allowing the hive to invade
on all fronts; they will fall under the blade and tooth of the God Eater!

And when the Chroma-Orb falls,
its nucleus will collapse into a sphere of
atomic mass, and I will claim it for myself,
fashioning its power into a weapon of the Deep.

And Xivu Arath will
feast upon this death and rejoice,
for her son will provide the largest of tribute,
enough for hundreds of years of conquest!
The Hive are eternal. We will never die!

— Enkaar, the Anointed

The First

Cryth stood within the never-ending void of shadow, scraping his blade across the invisible ground marking runes into the endless dream. “Where?” He asked. “Where is this? From what plane of existence have you pulled me through?” A voice called back, echoing from every corner of the mindscape. “Where? We are at the end, oh siphon mine. Everything is gone. The shape you so desperately chase was fiction all from the start.”

The God Eater flipped his blade over his shoulder, lighting up the surrounding area to reveal slithering scales surrounding him. He was not afraid, for fear was a sign of weakness, and weakness required correction. “What are you, vile creature?” Like a supersonic wave, a response flashed past him in the vain of a cool breeze. “I am the first, and you are the last. I revel in the failure of your logic, destroyer of worlds.”

Cryth was not familiar with these words, this pattern of speech was odd and troublesome to decipher. But the God Eater would not be bested by some devil, for he was hell itself, hungering for the souls of the deceitful. “Show yourself, devil! Only a powerless coward hides behind a black mast, afraid of the Prince of War!” More dark mist flooded the space, thinning the air and obscuring the endless nothing, only to dissipate and reveal the monstrous form of the devil, colossal in size with wings like a galaxy’s arm.

“You, my violent friend, are afraid of your own absence: your expiration, your death. One can only have so much influence after their ability to directly impose their will has been gutted from their lifeless body. You would know much about that, huh?” The talons of the devil wisped through the air as space ripped and tore between her claws, groaning and stretching back together without struggle. “The Zophar held influence over hundreds of species, but it all came to a stop when your sword cut it to pieces.” Cryth winced at the mention of the Zophar; what provided hundreds of years of tribute to his mother provided hundreds of vivid nightmares for him. “What is it you're trying to prove?”

“You lack apparent purpose, leading to your reckless voyage across the universe. Just like your dear old mother.” The devil’s eyes began to glow a luminescent black, mist flowing from them into the void. “But I can take it all away. Or I could bring it all back. Your wish is my command, oh siphon mine.” Deceit, deceit, he could see it clear as day. His next actions were to be chosen carefully in order to ensure his survival.

Without a trace, the God Eater disappeared into thin air, leaving the devil in complete isolation. As she turned to inspect his disappearance further, a massive shadow-like figure floated above the devil, taunting her with a cackle. “You, a liar in disguise, attempt to deceive me?! How amateur, to think that a simple wish could sway the fate of the God Eater! I have burned entire worlds to the ground! You do not scare me, wish dragon, for I am the first and the last!”

In what had seemed almost instantaneous, Cryth’s blade punctured the body of the wish dragon, bringing her down to the ground as she bled into the void. The God Eater stood over her, his sword held high in the air. The space went silent, the Prince made a wish before striking the devil.

When Cryth returned to the Black Terrace, the Hive had been awaiting his arrival. What felt like an eternity for Cryth inside the void was only a single day for the rest of the world. At the end of the pathed hall stood his mother, patiently waiting for her son. “WHAT HAVE YOU TO SHOW FOR YOUR DISAPPEARANCE, CRYTH?” The Prince dropped the skull of the wish dragon at her feet before raising his blade and splitting it in two. Xivu Arath fell to her knees, writhing in pain for a second before laughter crescendoed from the war god; his tithe was complete. The God Eater turned back and exited the Bladed Terrace, his blade and armor covered in reflective black blood; the essence of the first.

For Better or Worse

My mother forced me into a weapon of death and destruction. My will had not been my own, but at the same time, it bent to my every action. I cannot explain it.

She taught me the fundamentals of what it means to embody the sword. I have destroyed countless planets, murdered millions of unworthy wretches without a single care of morality. I have eaten the flesh of the zenith’s gods and walked the depths of the afterlife. I have tasted the atoms of stars from every corner of this reality. But no matter what I do, I am always wanting more.

Let me make myself clear: My worm is fed, it does not desperately need any more tribute; I, however, am starved for that which I cannot describe.

It has brought me to a precipice: As much as she doesn’t want to admit it, there is more to life than war, more to life than death. I have seen it with my own eyes, the mimic of the King has shown me that navigation can bring more light to the world. The Witch has shown me that deceit can help examine the way differing minds are able to process. I cannot find the words, but it is as if I have grown tired of war, much to mother’s disdain.

I have thought about siring my own spawn and forcing them to kill each other for eternity, but that would get old after a while. I have thought of hunting the zenith myself, but that has been done already, and all who have done so simply failed. I have thought of declaring war on everyone and everything, but I wouldn’t last, not for long anyway.

So I have come to a conclusion, an end to my eternal debate. I will sire under the Witch until the end of days. She will teach me new aspects of life, as I will teach her all I’ve learned under the god of war. Xivu will be furious, but she will come to understand in due time. My blade will continue to give tribute to her out of respect, as I could never forget the woman who saved my life.

Under Savathûn, I will locate the gardener and destroy its people. My blade will dull with death, and I will feast upon its flesh for my brothers, for those it has wronged.

To my mother: If I am killed, it will be because I was not worthy to exist in this bleak world. If I fail my mission, then you were wrong to give me the title of God Eater. I will never forget what you’ve done for me, as you should do the same. I now serve under Savathûn, the Witch Queen, for better, or worse.