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Ỹ̫̊͞O̰ͫ̚Ṷ̼̇ͣͩ͝ W̩͚͡Ḩ̙͉̮̔̇͊Ȯ͕̀͠͝ P̡̛̹͝U̿͡T̸͈̳ͅS̲ͮ͗ͪ̃͛̔ A F̨̩ͮ̌ͫ̂́IN̟GȄ̩̞̟͜R_̽ O̙ͪͦ̓̚͢͟N̡ T̼̎̿H̳̉ͥͥ̐E S̱̓͒̒C̥Ȃ̳̼̙͝L̹̆͐E͎S̢̩̥͐̕ͅ
W̙̿̐̽͢IL̍Ĺ͔͚̆ F̦IṆ̴̩ͨD̟̟̟́̈́̽̅ E̴̟̠̞̊̌̀Q̸͓̿ͨ̒̏͘Ṵ̋͌ͧ͆̀A͚̾ͭL̸͖̰ͫ͌̕ A̒̽N̜ͩD̹̪̥̈́̚͢ O̰͖̼͎͛́PP̔̾̚O̤̿S͖̞ͤ͠IT̸̡͛̽̈́̌E̴̳̫̾ͤ B̶AL̒AN̡̎͌C͓̠ͯ͛ͫͦͅE̐
Alla-Lush'Shaa
It began within Xen, beneath a crimson star surrounded by grey void. A pool of spawning, with countless vortal forms conducting rituals of spawning... it finds itself suddenly with so much consciousness. So much purpose. It is unsure. It does not know *what* to do. Pulled abstractly from the primordial ooze of unknown potentiality to potential recognized.
Learn. Sit. Listen. Obey.
High upon a ridge of the mountainous spires... a set of yellow eyes stare down at it. That yellow, those eyes... those are what bid it to climb. To approach, to come forth and learn, the voice it had not known was a voice whispered. It climbs and it climbs, and it reaches the peak... finding a progenitor of the Homeworld. Its name yet unknown, Shaa would obey nonetheless. For that is all it knew.
Learn. Sit. Listen. Obey.
This is the mantra it had been told since the moment of its creation. Smooth gray skin, surrounding a crimson red eye. All watching. Spiracles expanded-- listening. It was taught, since its conception, that to harm was to do sin. To do wrong upon sentient life is unacceptable. It lives by this mantra, with each passing cycle.
Learn. Sit. Listen. Obey.
Soon, its purpose was found... to it's tribes disbelief, their dismay. It found that to submit rubbed its being wrongly, like scraping ones nails down a chalkboard. To submit to the Hulkabin, the Controllers, the Nihilanth. To be less than it could be.
...Fight. Stand. Resist. Oppose.
It is christened in ichor thick and yellow as liquid gold that it found its purpose. Where its tribesmen forgave and turned the other cheek, it struggled. It ascended. It slipped its yoke, slaughtered one of the Nihilanth's Controllers. Struggled against the Hulkabin. Blinded it.
This action, this Vortal Form forged in violence and glorious victory, turned to kin shocked to stillness... and a morbid golden gaze. "Why?" asked its Elder. "Why do this evil thing when patience brings ever greater reward?" it pleaded, begged for an answer. The confusion and befuddlement that wafted from it poisoned the aether. Turned one tribesmen against Alla and its actions. And then another tribesmen. Another, another still turned. Unspoken demanding rage roiled on the surface of the space unseen.
But Alla-Lush'Shaa had asked itself this very question, and in its prior meditations it found suitable answer. "Evil is necessary. In moderation, both sides may be balanced for the best outcome possible-- and you!" it howled, raising a claw and pointing a blood-stained digit at its Elder, "You are a fool! A hypocrite! You preach these things and you have killed in the past! You who fled from the Homeworld, YOU are the fool! Grown so stiff that you would break instead of bend in your beliefs! To turn the cheek is to be a feckless coward! And I will balance the scales which you set."
With these damning words, it turned... and fled. A few of its prior tribesmen fled the following cycle of the stars, as well, when all were resting and asleep. Slipping away from the life that they did not subscribe to. The One Free Man rises... the Nihilanth falls. The Liberator vanishes, and Alla-Lush'Shaa is left desolate within the Siberian wastes.
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