Riftborn Faction Quest

## Chapter 2

*its starry nights and fecund worlds, it's so-called intelligent life born of evolutionary laws that pit every organism as winner or loser--everything horrifies, everything scars. The worst though, living in this artificial shell, is that slowly, but inexorably, I grow immune to it's bleakness. Or perhaps not immune, but numb. I wonder... should Coroz ever be cleansed of the blight would I be able to return? Or am I forever changed? Am I destined to live out my years here in this universe?*
*A moot question, perhaps. News from Coroz suggests no breakthrough in slowing, or even understanding, the blight. Perhaps if the Communion invested more of their energies on investigating the rift and less spying on me, they might've made more progress. Yes they learnt of the existence of the Virus, Anax-Jink, and their reprimand was severe. Keep anything else from us, they said, and you will be stripped of the title of Grand Viceroy and ordered to return to Coroz immediately. They didn't need to say what fate would await me there.*
*I will not be so careless in the future.*
*The Communion wish our efforts to be focused on the rift. The presence of the Virus affords us an opportunity to study it in detail, so that is certainly possible. We already know that some of the rupture in this universe precipitated the emergence of the rift, but we don't know the Details. Anax-Jink will help rectify that.*
*Or, I can focus my efforts on cementing my own authority, being ready for unforeseen events... the construction of a supremely powerful vessel would be a rational choice to fight off our enemies--without or within.*
 Consolidate
 **Outcome** | *Every day is a struggle, but my faith in the Virus has paid off. Its eccentric yet profound thinking, allied with the logistics provided by the system's trade company, has driven much greater understanding of the cause of the blight.*
*There was a vessel.*
*The Grey owl.*
*Aboard it carried a Dust arifact of enormous power. Somehow it became unstable, exploded.*
*The rest was inevitable.*
*Worse, Anax-Jink tells me there is no hope of arresting the blight; the plague is a manifestation of the physics of one universe strangling the physics of another. Soon, inevitable, Coroz will be an endless blackened wasteland, devoid of life.*
*My title is Grand Viceroy of New Coroz. If Coroz will be no more, where does my allegiance lie then?*

*The Communion press for a full evacuation into this world. They imagine it a safe haven, where they might find refuge. They are mistaken. This universe is far from a sanctuaru for us. It is a dirty, fetid place, awash violence. The only thing they will find here is distress, and eventually death. Despite their suffering, we are just not ready for them. They should stay. Fight to the end to save Coroz.*
*But they will not.*
*I beg. No matter how hard I persuade them not to venture into this universe, my pleas fall on indifferent minds. All the horros that I communicate--the blinding light, the fierce cold, the vast abysses--are merely meaningless words for them. They have no concept of this place. And as I am the Grand Viceroy of New Coroz, as my authority stops where this universe ends, I cannot forbid them from coming.*
*Eventually, though, I manage a minor victory of sorts. I convince them to delay the evacuation, give my forces enough time to prepare for their arrival.*
*What can I do though? I might as well be seeking the end of the primes. Staring up at the starry night, I feel the weight of the universe crushing me, suffocating.*
 Secure

## Chapter 4

*Rumors spread that I left them in Coroz, or eliminated them during their transit to this universe. The rumors are useful tools for control, and I do little to dispel them.*
*Sometimes I wonder if this universe has changed me too much. Sometimes I wonder if this place of constant conflict and bargaining and deceit has altered the very character of the Riftborn.*
*I often wonder if Survival is enough.*
*The Communion might be hidden from sight, gone in the minds of my people, but that doesn't mean they don't exert their influence. Every day I grant them an audience, and we enjoy lively discussions about the future. With little to do in their gilded cage except absorb news from across the galaxy, they make a circle of most insightful advisors. With Coroz gone, dead and blackened, they have convinced me that we must begin to take steps to resurrect our cosmos in this universe.*
*Only then will we remember who we truly are.*
*The Communion might be dead to all, but that doesn't mean they won't have a legacy.*
*None will know this, of course.*
 ?
 **Outcome** | *Ecologist thinking is strong across the empire, and the desire to see Coroz made anew is growing. The news that our home is a blackened shell, corrupted and unihabitable, only strengthens feelings. Riftborn researchers make great strides understanding the fundamental nature of matter in this universe, but still struggle to render Corozian artifacts here. One day it will happen though.*
*One day it has to happen.*
*The Communion, forever locked in their impregnable fortress, have come to accept their station. They are the ones I am closest to, the only ones I can speak entirely freely with. Through their collective wisdom, my influence over my citizens has never been greater.*
*Despite the seasons that have passed, I still find this universe an infernal wasteland.*
*But at least it is my infernal wasteland now.*

*The Communion remain happy to let me lead. I think they are all still shell-shocked by the reality of this universe. They don't want the responsibility of command, and I cannot blame them for that. What they know--what we all knew--in Coroz is gone. Tranquility, beauty, truth... all lost to a cosmos that values conflict above all.*
*Perhaps they let me lead because they see that I have changed. I--among all of us that have called this universe home--understand best what we must do to survive.*
*We must strive. We must fight. We must kill.*
*Every day. Every hour. Every second.*
*We have mastered time, and we will use that strength to master the galaxy.*
*Nothing living has emerged from Coroz for days, but that doesn't stop many calling for us to return. I have cautioned against raising hopes that we might return, but the Communion instruct me to organize an exploratory party.*
*I am sure they will find only blackened ruin--that is, if they return to tell the tale--but perhaps that will be the spur that will harden us, inure us to this harsh cosmos.*
 ?
 **Outcome** | *The exploration party breached the rift three day-night cycles ago.*
*Seven Riftborn went out*
*Yesterday three returned.*
*One was mind-dead, the second was delirious, and the third, while coherent, was infected by a virulent strain of the blight.*
*All were kept in separate isolation facilities. The first shows no signs of recovery and will likely be deactivated soon. The second killed itself, executing a proliferation script in its core which we were unable to counteract in time. The prognosis for the third looked bleak, but somehow it survived the night.*
*Still focused on its mission, it ignored its own suffering and damage, and relayed to us as much as it could about the party's expedition and the state of Coroz. The short version is that not only is our old home uninhabitable, it is also evolving in dangerous and unpredictable ways. Alive some might say.*
*Return is impossible.*
*We are stranded in this universe. Not without hope though. Not only did the sole survivor bring back much valuable analysis. In its infected state is also brought back secrets of Dust.*
*And with more Dust we might yet win this galaxy.*

*Some have seen my actions as genocide, when the truth is they are a mercy. A vocal but powerful minority stoke the feelings of the masses, encouraging them to move to a full-blown rebellion. They want passage from Coroz re-opened, even if it might cost us everything.*
*These protests are not the Riftborn way.*
*They are another sign that we are losing our identity to this universe. Perhaps that is the only way we will survive though. By forgetting who we were, and embracing this place of chaos and conflict.*
*I don't know.*
*The free exchange of ideas has always been a cornerstone of our way of life, but if I permit these dissenting voices to carry on challenging my authority I fear all might be lost. Compelling evidence has come my way that the ringleaders of this incipient mutiny are meeting for critical talks aboard a secret fleet at the borders of Riftborn space.*
 Crush
 **Outcome** | *The rebellion is over, its leaders incarcerated.*
*Let them call me betrayer, tyrant, murderer. I am at peace.*
*The stench of this universe seeps deep into my shell, but it is a burden I can carry if it means salvation for my race.*
*I was the Grand Viceroy of New Coroz.*
*Now I am the Communion.*
 Appease

*My inner circle fear me, and they transmit this feeling onto their own subordinates. We are a colder race now, but we are also stronger for it. Our survival in this universe depends on it.*
*The ringleaders of the rebellion remain in an incarceration singularity, their physical forms held aloft in stasis for all to see like flies trapped in amber, while their minds roam time and space.*
*Their example helps keep my grip iron.*
*A strange thing happened with one of the prisoners. Seventeen day-night cycles ago, 534628634's vital parameters spiked. The Custodians brought it out of the singularity, and quickly sent word that I must come.*
*Once stabilized, 534628634 claimed to have a detailed vision of the future. That two cycles hence, a phalanx of Riftborn from Coroz would try to breach the rift, escape into the Endless galaxy. Intense hallucinations are not uncommon when under a singularity, but the visions are always mangled fragments of imagination and reality, giving more insight into the dreamer's mind than any objective reality.*
*Everything 534628634 described came to pass.*
*And thanks to its words we were ready.*
*Since then every one of its premonitions has come true. For its candor, I give it certain comforts the other prisoners are denied. We have an understanding. How long it can endure though, before descending into madness I do not know, but until then I will heed its words.*
 ?
 **Outcome** | *The Riftborn straddle more stars than ever.*
*534628634 is gone though, the strain of the vision on its mind finally becoming far too great to bear.*
*It is a loss, but 534628634's sacrifice taught me something important/*
*Every Riftborn can give more.*
*Of course, finding another oracle of 534628634's caliber will be difficult, perhaps impossible, but that doesn't mean more cannot be extracted out of every Riftborn who sheaths themselves in a robotic shell.*
*I will work them harder.*
*And they will not complain because they will understand they are securing their race's survival. No cost is too great for that aim.*
*I will make sure they understand that.*
*And if any forget that lesson I will bring them to the singularity where the other flies are still trapped in the amber, and offer them the chance of becoming my new oracle.*

*In the meantime, I will continue making all operational decisions from the austere comfort of the Breach Provisional Authority's main base, upon condition I am not to leave the structure.*
*I am under guard at all times.*
*For the sake of our race's survival I will obey.*
*The Communion have given me the strategic aim of promoting a doctrine of peace. They are new to this universe and haven't yet developed the passion for violence that seems to be endemic to survival here. Perhaps it gives us a chance to start again.*
*Or perhaps it heralds our demise.*
*In any case, I will respect their wishes--at least outwardly. To this end, I will concentrate Riftborn exploitation ventures on securing the strategic resources necessary to defend ourselves. Singularities will help us to arrange the pieces of the galaxy as we see fit, while stronger fleets will allow us to patrol safely. Specialists will be sent to the strategic mining sites tasked with one objective: maximizing yields.*
*I don't know what the Communion's judgment will be. I don't know what fate awaits me.*
*But I will play along.*
 ?