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story Weaver's Journey

Weaver’s Journey Finale

We had maintained a holding pattern for 150 years in Hell. As usual, we got our information by probe. This day, the probe showed Nemesis Prime charging Intrag’s sword with the dark powers he learned from Primacron’s dark half, Unicron. They were going to try to make a portal out of Hell. Meanwhile, Dr. Borg was cuddling with her spouses as Igura and Hana made an image of Megumi out of rocks. Hiro raised a stick as a sword. “And so, it’s come to this, my greatest enemy!” he said to the rocks. “You’re finished, Kamen Rider Royal! THIS…is the final fight!” He then swung the stick at the rocks and scattered them.

“Hush, simpleton!” hissed Dr. Borg. “I want to see how badly this flops!” Intrag raised the sword.

“COLUKAS!” he shouted as he swung down. The swing made an energy wave that opened a rip in mid-air, but it closed itself. Intrag and the Terrorcons roared in fury. “I! WILL NOT! BE DENIED!”

“Why don’t you face it?” sighed Dr. Borg. “It’s going to fail again, like your previous attempts!”

“At least Intrag and I attempt to free us from this prison!” snarled Nemesis Prime. “I won’t sit idly by and listen to Hiro’s inane ramblings for another decade! And the way you chew-!”

“Hey, I keep my mouth shut!”

“I was referring to your wings fluttering every time your jaws break down your food!”

“They do NOT!”


“Okay,” I muttered, “I’ve heard enough. Order the probe to decloak.”


On the surface, as Dr. Borg and Nemesis Prime were arguing, the probe revealed itself and startled them. Their yelps attracted everyone’s attention and Hiro arched an eyebrow. “Looks like a Borg device,” he said.

“It most certainly is NOT one of mine!” grunted Dr. Borg.

“Not you! There’s a collective of cyborgs made from different races called the Borg. They’re usually found in Star Trek universes.” It was then they noticed the shadow of the Imperium.

“Above us!” called Jansha. Everyone looked up to see my ship. I then appeared in front of them.

“A thing of beauty, ain’t it?” I chuckled. “The first of its class. The Lords’ flagship.”

“Who are you?!” demanded Hiro.

“I thought the Japanese consider it rude to ask questions before you introduce yourself. Not that it will do you much good, Adachi Hiro. I know all your names and stories. Hiro, your wife, Igura, was killed by Skaro Daleks after Caan freed them. She was pregnant with your daughter. Dr. Cytanek Yavenag Borg, you, your spouses, and fellow councilors drained your gods and destroyer in a bid to use their Divine Mana to become gods yourself, but Arsha and her lovers stopped that and ended the Final War. King Intrag Emboramii, Oyed abandoned you after just one mishap and left you to languish here. Nemesis Prime, formerly known as Miles Prower of Moebius, you and your Terrorcons were killed during Unicron’s rule over Mobius. I’m guessing you all want out.”

“After seeing our gods here,” remarked Nemesis, “yeah, we do.”

“And you claim to have that way out?” asked Intrag.

“Don’t take his offer!” urged Hiro. “It’s still a Borg ship! He’s probably their new Locutus!”

“Hardly, I’m the ‘Queen’ of this mini-collective,” I replied.

“…Why’s your skull normal?”

“I just needed a neural transceiver to give order to chaos.”

“You seem familiar with us,” remarked Intrag, “but we’re at a disadvantage in that we don’t know your name.”

“Then let me even the playing field,” I replied. “I am Khan, the Author.” Hiro and Igura’s eyes goggled.

“Anansi’s student?!” asked Igura.

“The very same.” A slight lie, but they don’t need to know my Kaminoan origins.

“Who is Anansi?” asked Dr. Borg.

“I thought he was just an old Mazuri myth,” remarked Nemesis. Hiro and Igura looked at him in confusion. “Africa became Mazuri both in my old universe and in the universe I died in.”

“He is no myth,” I said with distaste. “After he tried to keep me from the Tome, we parted company. The Lords, the mini-Collective I now command, were the Tome Guardians.”

“So the Tome exists as well,” purred Igura.

“And it’s in my possession,” I warned. “Now, to business. You want out and I want troops.”

“How will fighting your battles benefit us in the long run?” asked Intrag.

“I offer a new multiverse that you lot can rule over as immortals. Giving you the unageing and invulnerable bodies is an easy task (I can use the Tome for that), but I need the Sources of the Apocalypse and Flourishment as well as the Master Wand, Mirror of Reality, and Time Amethyst to make you full gods and to rewrite the multiverse’s history. You will have to decide how that history goes first.”

“Will our enemies be involved in that new history?” asked Nemesis.

“Not if you don’t want them to.” Everyone grinned.

“Say goodbye forever, Optimus Prime and Megatron!” cheered Nemesis.

“I was denied the chance to see the multiverse for a thousand years,” said Hana, “and I’m not about to waste this chance!”

“I’m eager to finally bring Megumi Hishikawa to heel!” chuckled Hiro.

“Godhood was our original goal,” purred Dr. Borg, “and wiping Arsha out will be a bonus!”

“And I will enjoy disposing of the Divine Ones and Oyed!” laughed Intrag. “We have a bargain!”

“Excellent!” I cheered. “Tell me, have you all heard of New Mordor and Shocker Umbra?”

“Yeah, we did,” shuddered Hiro. “The Oni read about them with the morning announcements during our sharing circles.”

“Not one more sob story!” groaned Yulduk.

“Well, I have them as allies,” I explained. “With you lot, we’ll have enough commanders to accomplish our goals.”

“Then let’s get to it!” cheered Igura.

“Hold it!” warned Hiro as a thought entered his head. “You aren’t gonna assimilate us, are you?”

“Do you want to be?” I asked innocently.

“Not really.”

“Then no. We only assimilate those who WANT to be assimilated. You guys are safe. First things first, though, you all need ships.” I then wrote a passage into the Tome and read it aloud. “‘When the Tome snapped shut, the Scorpion, a Shocker Rift saucer, and a red ship of an odd design appeared next to the Imperium.’”

“Ah, a Tome demonstration, hm?” guessed Dr. Borg. I nodded and closed the Tome. When the Tome snapped shut, the Scorpion, a Shocker Rift command saucer, and a red ship of an odd design appeared next to the Imperium.

“That ship came from Primacron’s old universe, Terrorcons,” I explained. “It’s a Genocide-class planet destroyer, the prototype Unicron and the last of its class. The cannon on the front fires a beam of destructive energy into the planet’s core and shatters the world.”

“You call it what you like,” chuckled Nemesis as he rubbed his hands, “I call it the Hellfire!”

“I’ll send some more crewmates to the ship,” I offered. “The Hellfire needs a crew of 80 to man it. You all should be getting all the access codes right now.”

“Got them!” said Nemesis. He then activated his comms. “Nemesis Prime to Hellfire, seven to beam directly to the bridge!” They vanished in red light.

“I’m familiar with that type of saucer,” remarked Hiro. “It’s a Raider-class saucer, designed for hit and run tactics, but can be used as a command ship in a pinch. Crew complement is 60. I think I’ll call it the Dominion.” He tested out his old command codes. “…Still works! Hiro to Dominion, three to beam aboard!” Hiro, Igura, and Hana vanished in blue light.

“And the Scorpion still works as it did in the past,” I assured Dr. Borg. “There’s already a crew from the Realms waiting for you all.” Dr. Borg made a call.

“Dr. Borg to Scorpion,” she said, “11 to beam aboard.” They all vanished in the usual orange light of a teleport spell. I then called my ship.

“Author to Imperium,” I said, “one to beam up.” I returned to my ship and our little fleet left Hell. I then made it so that those I rescued had bodies unable to die or age. They thanked me for their return to life and a chance to see the multiverse. I assured them that it was no bother. As our ships came into contact with New Mordor and Shocker Umbra, I outlined the plan. Thanks to the security surrounding the Master Wand, the Mirror of Reality, and the Time Amethyst, it will take decades to enact. Time, however, is not an issue. In time, I WILL become the Author of All Reality!

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Weaver's Journey

Weaver’s Journey 9

The hidden probe followed the group of villains as they were given a tour of the Oni’s castle. “And this here,” cheered a red woman in a yellow dress as they reached a large room, Ral Turgyt, “is our ballroom!”

“It’s where we host our daily balls,” explained a blue man in red dress, Tor Uroguf. “You can never go wrong with having skirts rustle up to one another!”

“If you lot are good,” suggested Tan Kelgyt, “we’ll let you dance with us!”

“Yay,” muttered Hiro. He looked to his wife and child, then to the Terrorcons, then to Intrag. Just then, the lights went off.

“What the?!” spluttered Yem Mefguf. “Argh, the lights! I swear!” He turned sweetly to the villains. “Don’t go away,” he said. “Rally and I will be right back!”

“Jat Kuttaw, you and your copies see to it that our guests are all right,” Ral Kelqen directed the butler’s red-skinned, blue-wearing, right-side monocle using copy.

“Very good, Ma’am,” replied Jat Kuttaw. As the masters of the castle left, the butler looked to the villains. “Tea?” he asked.


All the two Oni’s parts came together into their greater black forms to investigate the power failure. “I swear!” growled Yemtorpai.

“Don’t do that,” chided Rallamtan. “It’s a bad habit.” They made their way to the fuse box and checked it. “…That’s funny. Nothing’s tripped. Everything is fully on.”

“Did someone cut the wires?” muttered Yemtorpai. He pulled his phone out of his parasol and tried to call someone. “What the?! No signal?!”

“Wait, if there’s no signal-!” gasped Rallamtan. Yemtorpai realized what was going on.

“THE ANKLE BRACELETS!” the two Oni yelped.


“So, are we just standing here with our thumbs up our noses?” grunted Lord Dominator as she idly twirled part of her hair.

“Looks that way,” remarked Hiro’s daughter, Hana.

“Might I advise something?” offered Jat Kuttaw.

“What’s that?” asked Igura.

“I would advise NOT going down below to the dungeon and NOT removing your ankle bracelets in the process. I would also advise you, once you do NOT go to the dungeon, do NOT turn left and open the armory where your weapons are currently stored. I would also advise AGAINST fighting me and my duplicates to make the act more convincing until you do NOT regain your weaponry.” Even the slowest of villains got that hint. Hiro grinned as the butler’s other duplicates arrived, getting into fighting stances.

“Away we go!” called Hiro. That was all the villains needed to attack the butler. During the fight, the ankle bracelets came off. Once they were freed of those devices, they all dashed to the dungeon and found the armory.


Rallamtan and Yemtorpai found their butler’s individual selves sprawled all over the ballroom. They quickly brought all the selves together into Jatturlan Najkutlentawyug. “Jatturlan, what’s happened?!” asked Yemtorpai.

“I’m afraid the fiends took advantage of the power outage,” replied Jatturlan, “and took down all my copies while disposing of their ankle bracelets. They managed to get the location of their weapons from me and left me to suffer alone!”

“The Villain Vault!” hissed Rallamtan. As the Oni trio dashed to the armory, Rallamtan and Yemtorpai changed their dresses into what looked like a cross between a military person’s kit and clothes and samurai armor complete with oni masks. They drew their kanabō and increased their speed.


The three oni arrived at the armory too late. The villains had regained their weapons and those that were shrunken had regained their original sizes. That bit applied to Primacron, Starscream and his Trine, and six of the Terrorcons. Nemesis Prime simply plugged himself into the purple car. “Time to see if it still works!” he chuckled. “Nemesis Prime, TRANSFORM!” The car changed shape and assumed the form of a massive purple robot with the organic pilot concealed in an orange canopy. “Still fits!” cheered Nemesis Prime.

“Now, those letters,” recalled Hiro, “said we should thank the one who gave us the opportunity.”

“What letters?!” demanded Rallamtan.

“They’re referring,” explained Jatturlan, “to the letters my real employer sent out to inform them on how to regain their power.”

“Did you cut the power?” asked Saruman.

“Indeed, Mr. Saruman.”

“You bastard!” snarled Yemtorpai. “You gave the wolves their fangs back!”

“We prefer snakes to wolves,” chuckled Primacron.

“I’ve split the skulls of both!” growled Rallamtan as she readied her kanabō. “They explode all the same!”

“I say, madam,” warned Jatturlan as he held a kunai to her throat, “would you terribly mind lowering your kanabō?”

“You’re gonna regret this betrayal!” snarled Yemtorpai.

“I think not. You see, my employer has promised that, in exchange for betraying you, I would take over this sector of Hell.”

“…About that,” remarked Starscream. Everyone leveled their weapons as Jatturlan.

“You can’t be serious!”

“Come on! What did you expect? It’s what our letters promised.”

“That was NOT the bargain! I gave you your weapons’ location in exchange for power! You surrender yourselves to me and I command an empire!”

“Ah, yes, not so good a bargain. How about this one? My army, my empire!”

“About that!” snarled Lord Dominator. Everyone then pointed their weapons to Starscream, who had the nerve to be surprised!

“Why you beef-witted, five-faced scrubs! Khan promised me an empire!”

“Khan?!” yelped Yemtorpai. Everyone then heard a dog barking. It was a little chihuahua that had found her master.

“Why in the Pit is there a chihuahua here?!” demanded Starscream.

“She’s our Hellhound!” explained Rallamtan and Yemtorpai. The chihuahua’s head then expanded and clamped her jaws around Starscream’s hand. After a struggle, Starscream pulled the dog off and realized his hand was missing. There was only one thing he could do in that instance…scream in horror. At that scream, there was the biggest brouhaha among villains ever! Hiro and his family rolled their eyes and made their way out of the fight and up the stairs. The Terrorcons, Dr. Borg and her fellows, and Intrag followed them as their letters gave them different instructions in finding a way out. After their attempts, I would swoop in and rescue them.


Aboard the Imperium, I smirked. “We’re almost there,” I chuckled.

“Incoming transmissions from New Mordor and Shocker Umbra’s base of operations,” reported the Collective.

“Put them through,” I replied. Gorshagh and Metaltron appeared on screen.

“Khan, we’ve made our decision,” said Metaltron with a smile.

“We’re in!” supplied Gorshagh.

“Excellent,” I praised. “I’ll call you when I need you. For now, I need to wait until our last batch of allies is ready. See you when everything’s set.”

“Understood,” replied Metaltron. The call then ended.

“Maintain cloaked holding pattern,” I ordered the Imperium as the probe followed Hiro’s group out of the cul-de-sac and into the wasteland surrounding it. “We wait until they’re near the end of their rope.

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Weaver's Journey

Weaver’s Journey 8

With Anansi having fled and my donor and his parents out of the way, I could continue my plans unimpeded. I had to make alliances and I knew where to start. There was a universe called N-3-W-M-0-R-D-0-R, run by Orcs, Trolls, and wicked Men. I asked to meet their Dark Lord for a meeting with another person. I then contacted 5-H-0-C-K-3-R-U-M-8-R-4 and requested to meet with their leader. We decided on holding the meeting aboard the Imperium. Sonavok, Ziddet, and I waited patiently until the Collective gave a report in our heads. “Two vessels have been detected,” it said. “One Ancalagon-class vessel. One Predator-class vessel. Both on intercept course.”

“Let them come within transporter range and hail them,” I ordered. The Ancalagon-class vessel was shaped like the first of the flying dragons Morgoth created for his armies and the Predator-class vessel was a purple saucer. Once the vessels were close enough, I hailed them. “This is the Imperium. You are cleared to send your ambassadors aboard.”

“This is the Gorgoroth, sending over our Dark Lord,” replied the Ancalagon-class vessel. Just then, Gorshagh shimmered into view.

“This is the Relentless, sending over our Great Leader,” answered the Predator-class ship. Metaltron appeared.

“Welcome, my friends, to the Imperium!” I greeted the two. “May I offer you two refreshments? Grog or some wine?”

“Save it,” grunted Gorshagh. “You said you wanted to meet us.”

“So, what prompts the Borg to want to negotiate?” asked Metaltron.

“Strictly speaking, they’re not Borg,” I corrected.

“As far as I can tell, you’re the only individual on this ship.”

“I can assure you,” interjected Sonavok, “we’re all individuals where it matters.”

“The Lords are quite different from our original Borg masters,” supplied Ziddet.

“…Okay, you’re more free thinking than I thought,” muttered Metaltron.

“Tell me, you both wish to command the multiverse, yes?” I asked.

“Yeah, your point?” grunted Gorshagh.

“What if I were to tell you I have the means to do so? To make you lot gods of a new multiverse?”

“…I’d back away slowly and call the nearest insane asylum.”

“Even if I had, say, the Tome?” Metaltron snorted in disbelief.

“That thing?” she asked. “That’s just a myth.”

“It’s no myth,” explained Sonavok. “We’ve been guarding it at the behest of Anansi.”

“Now that’s a lie!” scoffed Gorshagh. “Anansi doesn’t exist!”

“He does,” replied Metaltron. Gorshagh turned to her in confusion.

“I thought you don’t believe in legends.”

“I don’t, but Anansi is real. I saw him.”

“And I was his student at one point,” I supplied. “And the Tome is real.”

“Then show me the proof!” challenged Gorshagh.

“…All right. I have something in mind.” I then opened the Tome up, turned the pages to a passage I wrote, and read it aloud. “‘After the Tome snapped shut, the Relentless and the Gorgoroth reported that they had ended up hovering over a barren wasteland with a single cul-de-sac as the defining landmark.’”

“…What?” asked Gorshagh. I smirked and closed the Tome. After the Tome snapped shut, the Relentless and the Gorgoroth reported that they had ended up hovering over a barren wasteland with a single cul-de-sac as the defining landmark.

“Well?” I asked.

“…Okay, I’m convinced,” muttered Gorshagh.

“Godhood, you say?” asked Metaltron.

“It’s going to require the resources of Shocker Umbra and New Mordor,” I explained.

“Why the negotiations?” quizzed Gorshagh.

“You’re the only one that doesn’t fit with the Borg norm,” observed Metaltron.

“Strictly speaking, this entire mini-Collective doesn’t,” I corrected. “We only assimilate those that want to be assimilated.”

“Even then,” supplied Ziddet, “we still pursue our individual pursuits.”

“Besides,” I continued, “your resources aren’t exactly ones we can take like the Borg. Hence why the negotiations.”

“I see,” muttered Metaltron.

“And these resources are?” asked Gorshagh.

“Multiversal maps,” I explained. “Different types of starships. Soldiers. I need them to find the Sources of the Apocalypse and Flourishment, as well as the Master Wand, the Time Amethyst, and the Mirror of Reality.”

“Don’t you have the resources you want?” asked Metaltron. “This ship isn’t exactly standard Borg design, and you have Cubes, Spheres, and Probes with the necessary man-power for those ships.”

“For all the Lords’ superiority,” I replied, “we’re not exactly the most…inconspicuous of people. Even the Imperium’s outer hull gives away its Borg origins. We need people who can blend in somewhat.

“And that’s where we come in?” asked Gorshagh.

“Yep. Besides, you’re more experienced in multiversal travel. Your mutual defense compact allows one of your two factions to succeed where the other went wrong. And the size of your armies are definitely nothing to sneeze at. So, what say you? Join me and become gods?” The two sides looked to each other.

“…I don’t know about Metaltron,” muttered Gorshagh, “but I say neither Yea nor Nay. I must consider this message and what it means under its fair cloak.”

“He’s right,” remarked Metaltron, “you talk very prettily and have a lot of power, but we need to be careful. We’ll tell you when we’ve made our decision.”

“Consider well,” I said, “but not too long.”

“The time of my thought is my own to spend!” snarled Gorshagh.

“For the present.”

“Let me warn you right now,” growled Metaltron, “rush our decision and, Tome or not, you WILL have a war on your hands. We have various anti-Borg strategies at our disposal.” The two summoned their ships to beam them out and leave. Once the ships left Hell’s skies, I smirked.

“We’ve got them,” I chuckled.

“Got them?” asked Ziddet. “They don’t seem convinced.”

“But there’s a chance for power,” I replied. “They won’t pass this up.”

“You’re sure about that?” asked Sonavok.

“One is a former Dalek; the other is a Middle-Earth Orc. They’re VERY good at choosing power.”

“…Very well.”

“In the meantime, I believe the denizens of Hell are currently enacting the plan. On screen.” A hologram of the cul-de-sac below us then showed the Oni gathering everyone up for a field trip. For some odd reason to the Oni, everyone looked compliant.

“All right, everyone!” called a red Oni woman in a blue dress, Lam Kelgyt. “It’s time for the wonderful castle tour!”

“You will see how we conduct our wonderful operations here!” said a yellow Oni woman in a blue dress, Tan Kelgyt.

“And don’t forget, any misbehavior will result in the removal of certain privileges!” warned a yellow Oni man in a red dress, Pai Urokeh.

“So follow us,” called a blue Oni man in a yellow dress, Tor Mefguf, “and let’s have fun!”

“That’s it,” I chuckled darkly, “go on and give them the means to free themselves.”

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Weaver's Journey

Weaver’s Journey 7

I continued fighting Daiku and Ddraig as the Lords looked onwards. They were acting naturally and stood around with a few movements instead of standing like statues. I kept only the necessary voices in my head as I needed as much data as I could on how they even got onto my ship in the first place! The shields were up, for a start! The fleet outside was constantly updating its software, but I felt confident that I would break through it sooner or later. The Lords are still Borg in that regard.


“The Borg are still trying to break through our data encryptions,” warned M’Row’s Chief Engineer, a Vulcan man. “Altering encryptions once more.”

“I’ve noticed a distinctly longer pause between your reports,” remarked M’Row. “Is something up?”

“In this instance, what is ‘up’ is that the Borg seem to be toying with us like-”

“Like us Caitians?”

“I was going to say a Naussican, but your analogy will suffice, Captain.”

“I don’t like it, this isn’t normal Borg behavior,” I muttered. “…Unless…oh no!” A horrible thought went through my head.

“Sir?” asked M’Row.

“Get me the Tholian Ship!”


As I continued fighting, I could feel a form of panic in my bones. Oddly enough, it didn’t come from me, it felt like it came from somewhere else. Just then, one of my Cubes, the Juggernaut, got all the data I wanted. …Well, I may have wanted it originally, but that feeling died…almost as bad as my original’s parents will! With my supposed familial connections proven wrong, I stopped holding back. That forced them to fight harder. “Son, I promise you,” urged Daiku, “you won’t be harmed if you just surrender!”

“Surrender to the likes of you?!” I replied as I pulled out a light and dark Elementrigger. “I’d never be able to show my face!” I connected the two, then pressed the button.

“What’s the word?” asked my belt.

“Balance!” I replied. I then split the Elementriggers and swapped my base ones out for the paired ones. Light and dark then surrounded me.

“BALANCING ACT!” announced my belt. “WEAVER: YIN YANG FORM!” My suit became a blend of white and black.

“Son, you’re not thinking clearly!” urged Ddraig.

“I think you mean Clone!”

“…What?”

“A Cube got every scrap of data of my origins on Kamino!” I explained. “You used their cloning techniques to create a practice dummy just so you could learn how your son fights if he ever turned evil! Well, let me tell you now, your definition of good and evil, the one you instilled in him, is ANTIQUATED! You two will have no choice but to bury him!” In hindsight, since I’m the Author’s clone, I should have known better than to say that around a woman like Ddraig.

“NOT MY SON, YOU BASTARD!” She swapped out the device in her belt with a green one.

“Daeargryn!” (Earthquake!) announced the belt. Her armor became green and evoked Toph from the Avatar universe. She then charged at me and slammed her fist right into my solar plexus. Should have blocked that. I was winded temporarily, giving Daiku enough time to pull out a device. He pulled the Fandom Shield out and inserted it into the new device.

“PRIME! TRANSFORM!” called the device. He then inserted the new device into the belt and opened the Fandom Shield. New panels then extended from the device, depicting Primus and Unicron.

“Transformers: Prime!” called the belt. It then played the last segment of Transformers: Prime’s opening theme. His suit looked like that series’ version of Optimus and he gained the Star Saber. He raised the blade above me.

“You wouldn’t kill your own son, would you?” I asked.

“No, just pathetic copies!” replied Daiku. That bit of talking was all I needed to turn the weapons dial of my belt.

“ONINI SABER!” it called. My sword then blocked his, then wrapped itself around the blade and threw him across the deck!

“Should have kept your mouth shut!” I taunted.

“Have you examined yourself recently?!” replied my own voice from behind me. I turned to see my donor’s armored fist go straight across my face. When I recovered, I leapt to a balcony overlooking the whole thing.

“There he is!” I laughed. “The OG Kamen Rider Weaver, himself!”

“You don’t have any clue what OG means!” snarled my donor.

“Original Gangster,” I replied. “A similar phrase would be ‘old-school’. You know, backwards idiots like Mama and Dad!”

“KHAN!” roared Ddraig. “I’ll show you backwards!”

“Come down here and get your spanking!” snarled Daiku.

“SHUT YOUR MOUTH, YOU MORONS!” I finally shouted. “This is now between me and your son!”

“Then do as Dad said and come down here so we can end this!” growled my donor.

“Nah, patience!” I chuckled. “This is just the beginning! First, it has to HURT!” I punched my hand for emphasis. “Then, if one of the Lords beats you to the point that your transformations are cancelled, so much the better!” The Lords then moved around the three. “But if they don’t, well, that’s when the real fun starts!” The Lords, now no longer shackled by the original Borg programming, went on an aggressive attack pattern. The attack was too much for my duplicate and his parents and it knocked them out of their transformations. I cancelled my own as the Lords held them down. Anansi was surrounded as I pulled the Tome out.

“ANANSI!” called my donor. “HELP!” Anansi looked back and forth between the Lords and my donor…then vanished. “ANANSI!”

“That worthless arachnid won’t save you now,” I remarked. I opened the Tome to an entry I had written earlier and read it aloud. “‘Once the narration was finished and the Tome was closed, the original Author and his parents turned, rather painfully, into denizens of Arsha’s world, a Sea Dragon woman, a Sky Elf man, and their Blender son, then they passed out until they were brought to the Realms with a new past that worked within the Realms.’”

“What?!” yelped my donor. Once the narration was finished and the Tome was closed, the original Author and his parents turned, rather painfully, into denizens of Arsha’s world, a Sea Dragon woman, a Sky Elf man, and their Blender son, then they passed out until they were brought to the Realms with a new past that worked within the Realms. I turned to a Turei Lord.

“Get that fleet out of here,” I commanded him. “Sonavok, Ziddet, take my donor and his parents to the Realms. They will wake up in their home of Varshenta Beach and will have forgotten their old lives as humans, remembering only that they are Leumas Venchitak and his parents, Petramel Venchitak and Noletam Farginta.”

“What about their original universe?” asked Sonavok.

“…Destroy it. I want no further attachments.”

“As you wish.” I could see through the Collective that the combined fleet was pushed back into 5-T-4-R-T-R-3-K-0-N-L-1-N-3 and that a single Cube was making its way through the rift to find my donor’s old universe. Meanwhile, Ziddet dropped Leumas and his parents off at Varshenta Beach just a few years before Arsha began her tour. When they woke up, they wondered what the heck they were doing napping on the beach and headed to their respective jobs. All that was left was to watch the Civil War of the Damned.

Categories
Weaver's Journey

Weaver’s Journey 6

It took a few years and a lot of secret-keeping, but I finally got my own, personal ship! It’s built like a Borg Diamond, but the faces had triangular pyramids on them. It was roughly 500 meters longer on all sides compared to the 3,000-meter sides of a Borg Cube. I called her the Imperium, registry LS-0109. As is typical on a Borg ship, there were corridors lined with Drones and multiple redundant systems, including personal quarters for myself when I need some space. Each of my quarters had a bed, a kitchen with replicator, a bathroom, an art and writing station, and a tv with game consoles. As I was admiring the handiwork, the Collective’s voice rang throughout the ship. “A cross-faction fleet has been detected. Five Starfleet vessels. Three Klingon Defense Force vessels. Three Romulan Republic Vessels. Three Dominion vessels. One Tholian vessel. All are on an intercept course.”

“Alter course to meet them!” I ordered. I sat in the central throne as the Borg surrounding me stood in their alcoves, commanding the Imperium through their will.

“All stop,” reported the Collective. “The USS Jerome Horwitz is hailing us.”

“Open a channel,” I ordered. The Captain of the Jerome Horwitz appeared on the screen. She was a human that, judging by her prosthesis, was liberated from the Borg.

“This is Cassandra Harold of Starfleet,” she introduced herself. “Khan, we know what you’ve done after I retrieved my Captain’s Yacht. Surrender at once or your ship will be destroyed while you are taken into custody.”

“I won’t be surrendering any time soon,” I replied. “My ship’s hull has neutronium in it and nothing would make me happier than you giving me an excuse to prove it!” Anansi’s face then appeared. Judging by the Tholians surrounding him, I’d say he was on the Tholian ship.

“I trained you better than this!” he hissed.

“The Tome will finally give us all what we want without consequence! Wrongs will be corrected! Bad guys will fall like dominoes-!”

“And good guys will get the happy endings they deserve,” interrupted Anansi, “and everything will be wonderful! …Except, that’s where people like you get it wrong.”

“There are no people like me!”

“Sorry, but there ARE. You’ve become the two-bit terror you once hated!” How dare he!

I am the hero the multiverse needs! With the Lords at my side, we’ll finally bring harmony to every single universe!”

“My own son!” hissed a woman’s voice that I could recognize while asleep. I whirled around to see my parents standing there!

“…You just had to get me to talk!” I snarled at Anansi. Mom growled as she stormed towards me.

“I raised you better than this!” she said. “I thought the Borg were your biggest nightmare!”

“And I made this mini-Collective into something greater!” I insisted. “I gave them all emotions and I installed creativity into them! They have their own identities now! Yes, they’re still a hive mind, but it’s not an oppressive one! I made these guys Lords!”

“Somehow,” remarked Dad, “I could hear the capital ‘L’. Boy, you’ve crossed the damn line!”

“…My own parents?!” I hissed, livid at this betrayal.

“You’re not thinking right!” urged Mom. “Come back!” Anansi’s replacement hopped onto my shoulder. It was a purely mechanical spider with the necessary power to maintain my suit and its various forms. It took a lot of trial and error, but I finally had it perfected. I brought out my base Elementriggers and the spider formed my belt.

“What’s the word?” it asked.

“Henshin!” I replied as I separated the Elementriggers and attached them to the belt. I transformed into Kamen Rider Weaver. Dad brought out his belt.

“FANDOM SHIELDRIVER!” it announced. He then brought out his base Fandom Shield and pressed the button.

“TRANSFORM!” it called out.

“Henshin,” said Dad. He didn’t sound like his heart was in it. He inserted the Shield into the ShielDriver, then pressed a button to open it.

“THE TRANSFORMERS!” called the belt. “Autobots wage their battle to destroy the evil forces of the Decepticons!” He became Kamen Rider Daiku. Mom then brought out her own belt, sighing in grief.

“My own son, throwing away what we taught him,” she mumbled.

“When did YOU become a Kamen Rider?!” I asked.

“Believe it or not, this is my first fight. I just wish I had a different opponent.” As she put the belt on, I noticed it had a dragon motif to it. It looked like three circles with two dragons about to chomp on a circle each. She then pulled out a long card that looked like a dragon breathing fire. She slid the card into her belt and the circles glowed, alternating in different colors. “Henshin,” she said.

“Llosgi!” (Burn!) called the belt in Welsh. Flames surrounded her and her Rider suit formed. It looked like a classic flying dragon. In fact, the helmet evoked Draco from Dragonheart. I assumed my beginning pose, as did my parents. Dad started it.

“All the world’s a stage, but I’M editing this script! Kamen Rider Daiku!” I decided it was time for my new catchphrase.

“You face Kamen Rider Weaver, the Author of all Reality!”

“Kamen Rider Ddraig,” said Mom, using the Welsh word for Dragon. “You sure about that, Cupcake?”


M’Row, the blue haired Caitian Captain of the USS Tiger, tapped her finger on her armrest. She felt a little on edge. “This is nuts,” she hissed to herself.

“Captain?” asked her First Officer.

“Let’s just say I have a little…history with the Borg.”

“You’re fine around your XB Captains,” I remarked as I stepped onto the bridge. M’Row looked at me.

“Look, are you sure this was a good idea?” she asked. “Cloning yourself and letting it loose with Anansi like that?”

“To be honest, no,” I replied. “But I asked Mom and Dad to keep me in check one way or another and Anansi thought this would be the best way. There’s no way this is easy for them, though. I mean, they KNOW it’s a copy, but it still has my face.”

“I’m just surprised,” remarked M’Row’s Helmsman, “that the Borg aren’t attacking us.”

“Yeah, a little surprising,” I muttered. “I need to talk to Anansi, see what’s going on.”

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Weaver's Journey

Weaver’s Journey 5

I had struck a friendship with Sonavok and an assimilated Cardassian woman named Eshett Ziddet. We usually had meals together, each one of us assigned a day when we cooked. I must admit, Romulan and Cardassian cooking is quite good, and they seemed impressed with the dishes I made so far. It was breakfast time, and I was the chef. I made some chocolate and banana pancakes (real healthy, I know. I had fruit prepared as well.) and set the table. The door chime then rang. “Enter,” I said. Sonavok and Ziddet came in. Ziddet sniffed the air.

“Do I detect chocolate?” she asked. “Hardly the healthiest of breakfasts.”

“Well,” I replied, “the Lords have been expanding quite nicely. Why not celebrate?” Ziddet chuckled.

“Fair point,” she conceded. I then served up the pancakes. Sonavok then put ketchup on his stack, like he does on all his foods, something Ziddet and I found odd.

“You’d be surprised how tasty it actually is,” remarked the assimilated Romulan.

“Well, you do you, I guess,” I muttered. “For me, though, I prefer the good old fashioned Vermont Maple Syrup.”

“I was under the impression that Canada produces better syrup,” mused Ziddet.

“Ah, don’t listen to them! Vermont’s the best!” The syrup came in a can, and I poured it all over my pancakes. Ziddet did the same with a different can (I don’t remember replicating two cans of syrup) and took a bite. As she chewed, her expression changed to one of confusion. It then turned into a look of panic as it looked like she was trying to open her mouth!

“M! MM MMMM M MMM!”

“What did you say?” asked Sonavok.

“MM MMMM M MMM!”

“That’s what I thought you said!” Sonavok then stood up and went to assist Ziddet.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“Her mouth’s stuck!” replied Sonavok. I got up and the two of us tried to get her mouth to move. Our efforts were just like the Borg usually called resistance; futile.

“Maybe it’s something she ate,” I muttered. Ziddet then pointed at her plate. I got the hint! “Not my pancakes!” I took her plate and took a bite out of one of her pancakes to prove there was nothing wrong. …Didn’t work out too well. “Okay, I admit the pancakes ain’t exactly hot, but this is Vermont Maple Syrup! You can’t say no to that!” I scraped some of the syrup and gulped it down.

“Wait, which can did you use?” Sonavok asked Ziddet. She pointed to the can she used and Sonavok read the label. Just then, I noticed something was wrong with my mouth. Sonavok’s eye then popped open. “Er, which part of this ‘Vir-mont’ does Stix-fast glue come from?!” Glue?! Oh no! I had a can of glue out to work on an art project! I didn’t put it away. Ziddet read my thoughts through the transceiver and mumbled a flurry of Cardassian curses and swears. I mumbled an assurance and put the kettle on. The steam should melt the glue. The steam came out, then Sonavok took the kettle. Confused, I followed him. “Good idea, Khan!” he said. “The hot water should do the trick!” Ziddet and I read his thoughts and tried to stop him! He managed to hold us both down and poured the contents of the kettle all over our mouths! The glue melted enough to let our screams of pain out! “There, you see?” chuckled Sonavok.

“Got something against Cardassians, do you?!” snapped Ziddet.

“The steam would have been sufficient!” I supplied. “What did you think we were, lobsters?! You trying to boil us?!” We were about to continue berating him when an alert rang through the Collective.

“Target universe located,” reported the Collective’s voice. “Incursion ready.” I replicated ration bars and the three of us abandoned breakfast to get to our stations.


I had a small spy probe, shaped like an octahedron, fly into the universe and look at what was going on. Right now, it seemed like a cul-de-sac within a barren wasteland with people just wandering the area. The probe looked around and saw what looked like red, yellow, and blue clones of a man and a woman wearing dresses of the same colors. They seemed to have the personalities of eager psychiatrists, but I had a feeling that, given the nature of the universe, they were actually prison guards. The people WERE Oni (Japanese ogres). The men in dresses acted rather flamboyant, but very affectionate with everyone, man or woman. The ladies were just as affectionate and flamboyant as the men. The rest of the people were various villains wearing some form of ankle bracelet. I could spot Lord Dominator (the main antagonist of Wander Over Yonder’s second season), Aku (the big bad of Samurai Jack), Fire Lord Ozai (the villain of Avatar: The Last Airbender), Sauron, Saruman, the Nazgûl, Starscream, Skywarp, Sunstorm, the Terrorcons, Primacron, Oyed, Dr. Borg and her fellow Councilors, Intrag, Lord Vortech, Hiro, Igura, and a woman in a pink dress. “They’re all milling around,” remarked Ziddet as our cloaked cube hovered over the area. “I’m giving the order to attack.”

“I wouldn’t recommend that,” called an assimilated Bajoran woman.

“Why not?”

“Those ankle bracelets deaden the powers of everyone wearing them. We won’t be able to test their skill.”

“We’re not testing their skill,” I interjected. “We’re recruiting them as free agents. We won’t be assimilating them.”

“Why not?!” protested Ziddet and the Bajoran.

“They’re a little against assimilation. I won’t add them to our Collective if they don’t want it.”

“Won’t they work better as part of us?!” asked the Bajoran.

“…I was under the impression your old Borg programming was deleted.” That silenced her. “But you ARE right in that the ankle bracelets are a problem. The probe’s saying that they have a means of tracking their wearers on top of deadening their powers. The Oni are also a problem.”

“Especially their combined forms,” remarked Ziddet. …That was new to me.

“Combined forms?”

“According to the probe, the reason the men and women look the same is because they’re each twelve parts of one man and one woman. The women are all Rallamtan Ferkelturgytqen and the men are all Yemtorpai Uromefyekgufkeh. They can each combine into orange, green, and purple versions of themselves, and they all combine into a black version that makes up their greater whole.”

“There is a potential ally to help cause some chaos in that regard,” observed Sonavok through the Collective. Jatturlan Najkutlentawyug, the butler for the Oni running this place.”

“He has designs?” I asked.

“Designs of civil war in this universe. Particularly this sector.” I couldn’t resist a smirk.

“A Civil War among the damned,” I chuckled. “Sonavok, Ziddet, work your manipulation magic. I want Hiro and his family, Dr. Borg and her councilors, Intrag, and the Terrorcons ready to join us. The rest can squabble to their hearts’ content.”

“As you wish.”

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Weaver's Journey

Weaver’s Journey 4

My shuttle approached the coordinates for a nice-enough tear through the dimensional barrier. It was a nice Captain’s Yacht that I, er, “borrowed” from the USS Jerome Horwitz. “Computer,” I said, “calculate optimal coordinates for a photon torpedo to open the tear.”

“Coordinates calculated,” replied the computer. “Fire at will.”

“Thank you.” I entered the coordinates for the torpedo, then pressed the launch initiator. The photon torpedo flew out from my shuttle’s underside and hit the tear, opening a vortex for me. I then flew the shuttle into the vortex. It was a very smooth ride.

“Approaching exit aperture,” reported the computer. I then steeled myself, preparing for the eventual Borg encounter.

“Raise shields and ready weapons.”

“Shields raised. Weapons ready.” I kept one hand near the navigational console while my other hand hovered over the weapons. The shuttle left the vortex and arrived at a Borg Unicomplex. Two cubes rushed out to greet me. “Enemy vessels are scanning this shuttle,” reported the computer. I then looked at the monitor and arched an eyebrow at the results.

“That’s weird, Borg scanning shouldn’t be so erratic.”

“Enemy Unicomplex hailing us.”

“Open a channel.” The Borg came through.

“We-We-W-W-We are-We are-We are the-are-are-are the Bo-the Bo-Bo-Bor-Borg-g-g-g-g. Y-Y-Y-Y-Y-You will b-will-will-w-w-w-will b-b-be ass-be assi-assi-assi-assimila-milated-ed-ed-ed. Resi-Resi-Re-Re-Re-Resis-is-is-istance i-i-i-i-is fut-t-t-tile.” The Cubes then activated their tractor beams, but the shuttle barely jiggled.

“…Computer, analyze tractor beam wavelength,” I ordered.

“Enemy tractor beam is unable to maintain cohesion,” replied the computer. I then got an idea.

“Computer, given all possible data on the Borg, is it possible that being in a separate universe would make their micro-collective decay and their own cohesion fall apart?”

“The available facts and data support your theory.”

“Thank you, I think I have a plan.” I then went on the comms with the Borg. “Borg Unicomplex, this is Khan, a human. You have been sent here by a person known as Anansi, yes?”

C-C-C-orre-orre-orrect-ct-ct,” replied the Borg.

“You’ve been tasked with guarding a book called the Tome, yes?”

“C-C-C-orre-orre-orrect-ct-ct.”

“And your connection to the Collective has all but vanished, leading to chaos in your current micro-collective, yes?”

“C-C-C-orre-orre-orrect-ct-ct.” I grinned, then stood the shuttle down from red alert.

“I have a plan, but I need your resources. If you allow me access to the Tome, I will be your new…Queen, as it were. I can show you what real perfection is where your old one can’t.” The Borg were silent for a minute. Just then, a green glow flashed from behind me. A hand then yanked me out of the chair! The Borg had sent over a Drone to try and pick my brain!

“We will begin.” The Borg sounded more cohesive.

“What’s the idea?!” I demanded.

“A neural transceiver is required for maximum communications.” The Drone then took a small device from its clamp arm and put it onto my neck. “We will work as one mind.”

“Hold on! Yes to the transceiver, but you have to let me program it myself!”

“The neural link will be temporary. It will disengage when you receive the Tome. You will not be damaged.”

“I don’t care! I prefer to get into your Collective my own way!”

“Your methods would be inefficient.”

“That’s the exact same line of thinking that defeats you in the long run! Janeway’s clashes with you would be proof enough!”

“Irrelevant. You must comply.”

“I must do nothing of the sort! If you assimilate me in your usual fashion, my computer is instructed to wipe my mind!” The Drone stopped, then took a look in the computer core. It found the program, then stood at attention.

“You may enter the Collective at your own pace.” I sighed. The Borg of this universe must be desperate.

“Thank you,” I said. I took the transceiver off, then set it onto a console. “Computer, initiate Program 9 Alpha Tango.”

“Password is required,” replied the computer. Good, just like I wanted it to.

“One Seven Three Four Six Seven Three Two One Four Seven Six Charlie Three Two Seven Eight Nine Seven Seven Seven Six Four Three Tango Seven Three Two Victor Seven Three One One Seven Eight Eight Eight Seven Three Two Four Seven Six Seven Eight Nine Seven Six Four Three Seven Six Unlock.” I then panted after rattling off that password.

“Program downloaded to neural transceiver. Attach when ready.” I handed the transceiver back to the Drone.

“Now you can put it on.” I pulled my hair back as the Drone attached it just above my spine. The instant it did, the Cubes turned violently and the Drone spasmed before collapsing. “Uh oh!” I rushed to check the drone out, then a small HUD appeared in my vision, just on its top. It was showing my own health, then an identifier string, telling me that the Borg Drone was a representative of Species 3783 and that it was Four of Eight, Secondary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero Nine, then the HUD showed a mini-map. The Drone then groaned. I looked up what other names Species 3783 was called, then saw the word “Romulans”! I gulped at that and saw the Romulan Drone stand up. It was male…and had an angry look to his face! His normal arm grabbed my shirt and he pulled me up close to him. His eye appeared to bore into both of mine, then he released me.

“The only thing worse than seeing a human,” he grunted, “is having to be grateful to one!”

“I got your Borg designation, but not your name,” I replied.

“I am Commander Sonavok. Your friend, Anansi, lured my ship here and we were assimilated on the spot!”

“Anansi…did that?” I checked his memories. They confirmed what he said. “I don’t believe it! Anansi?!”

“You said you would use the Tome and fix our little collective!” challenged Sonavok.

“…I think I can improve it along the way,” I mused as I checked the memories of the rest of the Drones. Very few were assimilated as infants, so the rest of the current Collective had clear memories of Anansi throwing them here. “Tell me, how does revenge against Anansi and travelling to other universes with ease sound to you?” The Collective appeared to consider. Sonavok grinned after a second.

“You have our undivided attention, Mister…”

“Come on, we’re all part of the same hive mind.”

“I guess I’d like to hear some form of verbal introduction. Besides, I gave you my name.”

“You’re right, it’s only fair I give you mine. I am Khan, the Author of Reality!” My words were then directed to the Collective at large. “You, my friends, shall become the Lords of all Creation! With the Tome, victories shall be glorious! We shall carve our legacy across every star sustaining every planet in every universe! From this moment on, WE ARE THE LORDS!”

“WE ARE THE LORDS!” repeated the newly christened Lord Collective.

Categories
Weaver's Journey

Weaver’s Journey 3

I was enjoying my newest bout with my evil double. Anansi had turned me into Kamen Rider Weaver as usual and I was using new Elementriggers. I had gained ones based on the four elements and ones based on light and dark. My evil double swiped his arm at me as I simply twirled out of the way. “Dude, you’re becoming washed up,” I quipped.

“You’ve spouted enough lies!” he shouted. He fired shadow balls at me, but I twirled out of the way.

“So predictable.” I then pulled out a pair of black Elementriggers and pressed the button.

“What’s the word?” called Anansi, currently serving as my belt.

“Shade!” I replied. The Elementriggers then split and I replaced my Base ones with them. Just then, shadows flowed around me.

“Flowing Darkness! Weaver: Dark Form!” My armor took a shadowy appearance. My double fired shadow balls at me, but I simply let them hit me. They didn’t do any damage. I then dropped into a pool of darkness, then popped up from a pool behind my double. I then spin-kicked him.

“…Did you just-?” asked Anansi.

“Yeah!” I replied as my double tried to find me. “I always wanted to do that!”

“Please don’t do that again!”

“My fight, my rules!” I then pressed the buttons on my Elementriggers.

“FINAL STRIKE! FLOWING SPIDER STRIKE!” As shadowy hands from the floor grabbed my double, I jumped into the air, fired web strings, and pulled myself towards my double while sticking my foot out. My attack struck true and he exploded again when I landed behind him. Once the explosion died, it revealed my double in his human form. I powered down and Anansi assumed his six-armed humanoid shape. Anansi then webbed up my double.

“What were you hoping to accomplish here?” I asked my double.

“That tome is mine, you hear me?!” he roared. Anansi’s eyes bugged out in apprehension.

“What tome?” he asked.

“You know, THE Tome! The Tome of the Multiverse!”

“That’s a myth!”

“You and I both know that’s a lie! It was the very book Nyame gave you! The one that contained the Stories!”

“Now that’s a lie,” I remarked. “Nyame kept the Stories in a box.”

“And where did you hear that from?!”

“From various sources, even academic ones, on the internet. If you’re trying to tell me Anansi’s lying, well, that IS one of his abilities.”

“HEY!” protested Anansi.

“But he DOES tell the truth when push comes to shove and multiple versions of him becoming the Keeper of the Stories say that Nyame kept the stories in a box. Therefore, hypothetically, if Anansi were to tell me that the box he showed me yesterday had the Stories, I’d believe him.”

“Did you really need to say that? I don’t trick people unnecessarily!”

“Explain how you paid the price for the Stories in the first place.” Anansi opened his mouth, then sighed. I had him there.

“The Tome, Anansi!” demanded my double. Anansi just opened a portal and flung him back to his universe.

“He never could see the bigger picture,” muttered Anansi.

“Anansi, what was he going on about?” I asked. Anansi tensed up. “…If it’s about something too dangerous, I’ll happily drop it.”

“No, no, you need to know,” replied Anansi. “You’re one of my more mature students. You can be trusted with that knowledge.” He sat down on a rock and began weaving his tale. “The Tome of the Multiverse is a book where anything your write down becomes reality in a few seconds. You become the Author of the Multiverse and can change timelines to your whim, even going so far as to remove all the bad stuff…and continue a story for all eternity, even when it’s gone past its expiry date.”

“…Okay, yes, conflict’s necessary for life,” I said, “but what’s so wrong about continuing a story?”

“Everything has to end, my student. Civilizations, gods, planets, stars, universes, even stories. Something new has to take the old one’s place. That’s what makes life worth living.”

“What does the Tome look like? Where does it live?”

“…I’m afraid I can’t tell you. …No, check that, I won’t.” I was a little angry, but kept it buried.

“Why not?”

“That kind of power drives a person mad. I tried to use it and I almost lost my family. I had to establish guards in the Tome’s universe, guards connected by a hive mind so they could constantly check themselves against temptation. Believe me, if a god can’t wield that book without consequences, a mortal doesn’t have a hope in Hell.” Anansi then smiled. “Ah well, that’s enough doom and gloom. Now, come on! We need to get home!” As Anansi opened a portal home, I thought about what he said.


I did some research on where the Tome would be located and what was guarding it. It was located in a universe with only stars and asteroids, no planets to speak of. I had the means to create a crew, but I needed a ship, so I headed to a universe where starship travel was practically the name of the game. Universe 0-N-L-1-N-3 of Multiversal Cluster 5-T-4-R-T-R-3-K, the universe of Star Trek Online! The rift I had opened deposited me to Earth Spacedock, the main hub for Federation players. In that universe, I adopted the name of Kahn. I made my way to the spacedock’s bar and lounge, Club 47. I looked around to see if anyone could help. Just then, I saw my four characters come in. Three of them were women and the one male was a Jem’Hadar First. One of the women was a short Liberated Romulan Borg. How could I tell? She was grinning and wore Romulan civilian clothes instead of Borg armor. She still had a Borg eyepiece and the ashen skin of the Borg, but she had a cutesy attitude and stance. The second woman was a Klingon of average height with a seductive swagger to her movements. That didn’t exactly detract from her Klingon Warrior’s attitude. The third woman was a tall one with spikes around her face and eyebrows, reddish-pink skin, long limbs, and a long neck. The Klingon woman saw me and smirked. “Typical,” she chuckled as she sized me up. “I join my more experienced teammates of Valkyrie Division to get some refreshments and who do I find? The little runt!”

“You can talk, Captain Beefcake!” I replied. The Klingon and I stared each other down. …She then laughed in approval.

“Welcome back, Kahn, old friend!” said the Klingon, Tarj’agh of the Minor House of Luk’ergh, Captain of the I.K.S. Katana.

“What brings you here?” asked the tall woman, Captain Galmak of the U.S.S. Augustus Washington.

“Actually, can we all talk in private?” I asked.

“There is a private area here,” offered the Jem’Hadar, First Teran’tekal of the D.V. Glory. The four led me to a secluded area of the bar.

“Now,” asked the Liberated Romulan Borg, Commander Sarvem of the R.R.W Brutus, “what can we do for you?”

“I need to borrow one of your ships,” I explained to everyone, “one that you don’t see yourself using anymore.”

“What for?” asked Teran’tekal.

“…You don’t want to ask that.”

“Too late, I just did.”

“First Teran’tekal, you REALLY don’t want to know!”

“Khan,” growled Tarj’agh as irritation reached her voice, “you are not speaking plainly!”

“I’m a Romulan,” said Sarvem, “so I like my secrets, but we can’t exactly give you a ship we don’t want any more unless you tell us why you want it.” I grimaced. Time to tell the truth.

“I’m using that ship to get into a universe where a book floats in space and is guarded by a hive intelligence.” Galmak arched an eyebrow.

“This wouldn’t be the Tome, would it?” she asked.

“…How did you know?”

“You’re not the only one who knows about it.”

“The Tome?” asked Teran’tekal. “The book that can warp reality as we know it?”

“The book that makes whatever its wielder writes in its pages happen in real life?” quizzed Tarj’agh,

“The book Anansi doesn’t want anyone to get near?” inquired Sarvem. I nodded, confirming their suspicions.

“You were right, I DIDN’T want to know!” gulped Teran’tekal.

“Think about it!” I urged everyone.

“Oh, we are!” said Sarvem. “Which is why we’re not helping you!”

“Sarvem, come on! At least let me use the Caesar!” I pleaded.

“You wanna know what that hive intelligence is made of?! I’ll give you a hint: they’re like me!”

“…They’re former Borg?”

“The Tome is surrounded by a Borg Unicomplex,” explained Galmak. “Anansi took a Cube into that universe a long time ago and added more drones and materials to make the Unicomplex. They’re long severed from the Collective, so they’ve made their own hive mind.”

“Then that makes them weaker,” I remarked.

“They’re functioning on basic Borg commands,” growled Tarj’agh. “We’d still be assimilated in ten seconds flat!”

“They’ve even learned how to assimilate and preserve Jem’Hadar,” continued Teran’tekal. “The Founders ordered me to avoid them at all costs unless there’s a chance of victory, and I don’t intend to throw away my life for defeat!”

“Tarj’agh, surely going through the Unicomplex would be a glorious battle!” I asked the Klingon. She scoffed at my attempt.

“If there WAS a chance of a glorious battle, then I would take it! As it stands, going against a Borg Unicomplex is foolhardy and the wind does not respect a fool!”

“Galmak, this would be a chance for Starfleet to deal more crippling blows against the Borg!”

“No, it would mean that they would learn more Starfleet secrets and I’m not about to become the next Locutus!”

“Sarvem, you would be able to prevent others from being assimilated!”

“Are you kidding?! With my combat experience, I’d be reassimilated! Forget it! You got our answers, we’re not helping you go through a Borg Unicomplex just so you can get a book that would make you a god!”

“But-!”

“Our decision is final!” barked Tarj’agh. “Leave us!” I looked all four of my first characters. Never had I felt so betrayed.

“…Fine,” I hissed as I opened a rift. If they wouldn’t help me, then I would use someone else.

Categories
Weaver's Journey

Weaver’s Journey 2

“Man, what a YEAR!” I griped as I recalled 2020. COVID-19, civil unrest, the election, it was quite a year. So much so, it made me forget what I held dear. Sometimes I wonder how I managed to hold on for so long. A mechanical spider bumped against my foot as I thought. I looked down at the spider and arched an eyebrow. “Something on your mind, Anansi?”

“Just making sure you were okay,” replied the spider, the African Story Keeper, Anansi. He then shifted into a more flesh-and-blood form of an elder man in traditional Ghana dress with six arms. “This year has been rough on everyone, even me.”

“How so?” I asked. “You can’t possibly be affected by COVID-19.”

“Even gods and their kin can get sick.”

“So, you couldn’t go overseas to see your wife and kids.”

“Nope, and it tore me apart.”

“That just seems un…” My sentence was stopped by music. “…The heck?”

“It’s coming from your closet,” muttered Anansi. We entered the closet and shuffled through my clothes and came out of another door instead of running into the back wall. It opened to a room with a large bookcase. We went closer to it.

“…Music’s louder here,” I reported. We then got the same idea and felt around for some sort of trigger.

“…Dammit, my eyesight’s going bad!” grumbled Anansi. “Hey, pass me that candle, would you?” He pointed to a candle flickering on the wall. I grabbed it…and the bookcase wall rotated, taking Anansi with it! It soon became a bare wall. “…Put! The candle! Back!” I did so and the wall made a complete circle. “…All right! I have it figured out now! Take the candle out and…”

“I see where this is going! I’ve watched Young Frankenstein enough times!” I argued. “You’re gonna have a cracked exoskeleton if you do that!”

“Trust me!” I rolled my eyes at his insistence. I took the candle out and Anansi blocked the bookcase with his body. I then set the candle down on a table and shoved against the other side of the bookcase, making it rotate and freeing Anansi. I then dusted my hands and smirked before I realized what just happened.

“…Put! The candle! Back!” I called. The bookcase then rotated before Anansi webbed it and halted its progress. We then looked through the opening to see a passageway. “Well, well, well, what have we here?” I mused.

“The music’s coming from down there,” remarked Anansi. “Come on!” We went down the passageway and came to an open door to a music room. A band was playing something similar to Dare from the 80’s Transformers movie.

Sitting in a basement and always writing,

And he’s got no real friends,

You wonder how he keeps going! (going)

Think of all the things that really matter,

And the chances he’s missed!

His visible paunch is growing! (growing)

Can’t even fly if he tried, sitting on his behind!

Heaven only knows what’s on his mind!

Dare, dares to believe he’s got a life!

He buries his head in the sand!

Dare, dares to think he’s got any strife!

He never even stands,

He doesn’t even want to dare!

He keeps on typing at his keyboard,

In his dwelling underground.

Seems like it’s been forever! (ever), oh!

Apply the right kind of needed pressure,

Then he lose his last round!

Looks like it’s now or never! (never)

He never wants to ever come out into the light,

He always thinks his silly words are right!

Dare, dares to believe he’s got a life!

He buries his head in the sand!

Dare, dares to think he’s got any strife!

He never even stands,

He doesn’t even want to dare!

Dare, dares to believe he’s got a life!

He buries his head in the sand!

Dare, dares to think he’s got any strife!

He barely has any form of command, oh!

Dare, dares to keep all his rambles alive!

Dares to be lazy as he can be!

Dare, there is a place where he survives,

He thinks it gives him victory!

Dare, dare!

As the song played, I noticed the band members were people I knew! The lead singer was my evil double from a universe where I conquered Earth, the guitarist was Megumi Hishikawa in her blue dress, the drummer was the holo-form of Megatron from my Transformers/Sonic the Hedgehog crossover, and the keyboardist was my dad, Green Dalek! “…Is he for real?!” asked Anansi as we watched.

“I’m gonna get an explanation from all of them,” I muttered. The song ended and Evil Me saw me. “You’re actually serious about this?” I asked as I pointed in the general direction of the band.

“Behold, my weaker self! My Future Villain Band!” cheered Evil Me.

“Oh, for the love of…!” I groaned. “It’s been about almost two years since our first meeting and you’re just as derivative as I thought!”

“Derivative?! What do you mean derivative?!”

“‘Future Villain Band’? One, you’re a villain from my past! Two, Megumi and Dad aren’t villains! Three, the only reason I get the reference at all is because I watched Linkara review a comic adaptation of Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band! Couldn’t you have called it the ‘Author Parody Band’ or something?!”

“Ooh, there’s an idea!” mused Megatron.

“Megatron, what are YOU doing here?!” I demanded.

“I’m a villain in my story!”

“Yeah, but you haven’t even faced me! And…you play drums?”

“I DO have other interests outside of barking orders, berating the Decepticons for their failures, and beating on Eggman twice a week.”

“Megumi,” called Anansi, “what ARE you doing here anyways?!”

“I got bored after winning my 3V2R,” explained Megumi. “I figured this parody song would be okay since I’m not gonna have my contract with the Author renewed for a while.”

“I…guess it’s okay,” I muttered. I then turned to Green Dalek. “Dad, what’s the idea?!”

“To be fair, you DO have a tendency to be lazy,” replied Green Dalek. “In any case, it doesn’t matter. Your Evil Twin needed to do some introspection anyway.”

“Now JUST a minute!” protested Evil Me.

“And how are you even here at all, Evil Me?!” I called. “You were banished back to your universe when Vegeta took you back!”

“He didn’t destroy the technology I used to make my first trip!” answered Evil Me.

“So, you couldn’t let go of the beatdown Anansi and I gave you?”

“No, of course not! I won’t let myself feel defeat again!”

“And THIS is your big revenge scheme?! You form a band and play a parody song about how I’m so lazy?!

“I also kidnapped Anansi’s family.” Evil Me pointed to a group of people lashed to chairs. They were like Anansi’s human form in that they were in traditional Ghana dress and had six arms. The group consisted of one plump elderly woman and seven young men.

“Hello, Anansi,” greeted the woman.

“Aso, you and our boys are spider deities like me!” protested Anansi. “How did you get roped up?!”

“We DO have other interests outside of putting up with your antics, Dad,” remarked Toto Abuo, the Stone Thrower.

“This day refuses to make sense,” I grumbled.

“Your sanity is hanging by a thread, loser!” taunted Evil Me. “All it takes is one little push!”

“Can’t argue that,” I conceded.

“Think about it! All that time writing, all that time sitting in your basement, hoping your words will change someone’s mind on a certain topic and the world just ignores you! Face it, your quest to change someone’s mind will NEVER be over! This is why DeviantArt Eclipse was your downfall! You’ll be forever building up your fanbase and what will happen when your sites take a turn like Eclipse?! You will have to start all over again! You are a loser and a failure who will never be as popular as Peter Cullen!”

“That’s enough!” snarled Green Dalek as he stood up. “You can’t call him a failure, you pale imitation!”

“…Pale imitation?!” hissed Evil Me.

“You’re right,” I mused. “There’s a risk that people will just scoff at my writing and I’m probably not going to be as popular as Peter Cullen…but, a failure? A loser?” I then laughed. “You couldn’t be more wrong.”

“He’s right,” affirmed Anansi. “Now, my former ‘Master’, what say we get on with it?” He turned into his more mechanical self, then formed a belt strap and fastened himself to my waist. I then pulled out the gimmick I needed, the Base Elementrigger. “What’s the word?!” called Anansi as I put the thing near my mouth.

“HENSHIN!” I announced. The Elementrigger then split into two and I inserted them under Anansi’s legs. Anansi then leapt away from the belt and wove a cocoon around me while I made a spider impression with my hands. I then swung my arms outwards and broke the cocoon while Anansi returned to my belt. My suit had already formed by then and I became Kamen Rider Weaver once again. Green Dalek then pulled out a belt that he won in a 3V2R. He fastened it and it spoke.

“FANDOM SHIELDRIVER!” He made a pained expression as it was kind of loud. After his ears recovered, he pulled out the gimmick (a shield-shaped device with the Autobot and Decepticon logos on each side) and pressed a button on top.

“TRANSFORM!” it announced. He then set it into the belt and struck a pose.

“Henshin!” he called. He pressed a button on the right side of the buckle and the device opened up, revealing a mural of the Transformers fighting, with Optimus and Megatron at the forefront.

“THE TRANSFORMERS!” called the belt. A bit of the first G1 opening then played. “Autobots wage their battle to destroy the evil forces of the Decepticons!” His armor then flew out of the device and formed onto him, evoking Optimus Prime and gaining a shield-shaped shoulder pad on his left shoulder. His weapon appeared, a giant shield with a blaster near the wrist. The shield was shaped like the Autobot symbol. Megatron rolled his eyes.

“Kamen Rider Prime?” he asked. Green Dalek simply turned to my evil twin and pointed at him.

“All the world’s a stage,” he proclaimed, “but I’M editing this script! Kamen Rider Daiku!” His name literally translates to ‘carpenter’, but it DOES work as ‘editor’. I followed suit.

“Kamen Rider Weaver, I shall be the author of your defeat!”

“Hey, wait for me!” called Megumi. “I haven’t had a good Henshin sequence in a long time!” She inserted her i.d. tag into her Vortex Driver “Henshin!” She spun the wheel, and a giant version of the wheel then surrounded her feet and opened parts of itself to attach her armor while the belt strap changed her clothes into the undersuit. The armor then completed itself and she struck her pose. “Kamen Rider Royal! Evil shall ultimately bow to me!” Megatron then shrugged and extended his concealed blade from beneath his fusion cannon.

“I am Megatron! Peace through tyranny!”

“…We’ll work on that,” I muttered.

“No, we won’t.” Megatron was then slugged in the chest. My double had long shifted into his tarantula-monster form.

“If we’re all done talking,” he hissed, “why don’t we proceed with the fight?” I swung a punch, but he caught in and managed to burn my hand! I pulled back and held my hand in pain. Daiku then slammed his fist onto our enemy’s back, only to get the same result as me. Evil me then started shooting fireballs. We all took cover and fired our ranged weapons.

“Well, I guess it’s that time!” Daiku then pulled out a new device and pressed the button on top.

“ELEMENTAL MASTER!” it called. He then replaced the device in his belt with the new one and opened it.

“AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER/LEGEND OF KORRA!” called the Fandom ShielDriver. His armor then took on the appearance of Aang. Like the Avatar, he used a variety of elements to aid him in the fight. Megatron continued firing that BFG of his and Megumi pulled out an i.d. tag, swapped hers out with it, and spun the wheel.

“Uncle Iroh Steel!” it called. She then gained armor based off of Iroh and attacked. I felt left out.

“Excuse me!” called the youngest of Anansi’s boys, Intikuma. “I got something that might help you!” He handed me four sets of Elementriggers.

“Thank you!” I bid. I then took out my base Elementriggers and pressed a button on my new orange set.

“What’s the word?!” asked Anansi.

“Burn!” I replied. I then put them in.

“Burning Justice! Weaver: Fire Form!” announced Anansi. My armor then gained a fiery appearance. I struck my double and, this time, he was the only one feeling pain. “Wait, that doesn’t make sense,” muttered Anansi. “You’re using fire like him and yet, YOU’RE causing him damage.”

“I guess like repels like,” I theorized.

“That only works on…you know what, I won’t question it.”

“Use the blaster!” called Intikuma. I took his suggestion and turned the dial on Anansi’s rear to the desired weapon.

“MMOBORO BLASTER!” The gun appeared in my hand, and I fired. My evil twin doubled over in pain.

“NOT AGAIN! GAGH! IT’S WORSE THAN LAST TIME!” Daiku then swapped out his current armor for his usual one and Royal began her power-up sequence.

“DAI SUPER CHARGE!” she called. The old armor turned gold and white, then bulked up before exploding off of her to reveal new armor with tiger stripes. Now, she was Kamen Rider Vortex. She spun the wheel again.

“Final Attack!” announced her belt. Daiku then closed and opened the mural.

“FINISHING EDIT!” called his belt. I then pressed the triggers on the Elementriggers.

“FINAL STRIKE!” cheered Anansi. “BURNING SPIDER STRIKE!” We all performed a Rider Kick and struck true. Megatron then gave a parting shot, causing our enemy to explode. He fell to his human state and went unconscious.

“Well, that was fun,” sighed Vortex as she took off her belt and became Megumi Hishikawa once again.

“Intense, you mean,” replied Daiku as he became Green Dalek again. Anansi leapt off my waist and checked on his family. Once everyone was okay, Megumi called a ride home for us.

“Thank you, everyone!” I called as I left with Anansi. We returned to my usual dwelling, and I began writing again.

Categories
Standalones TMC

Update

“Hm, hm, hm…yes, that shall go there…” a man was at his desk, moving things around on his website. He was deaf to the outside world…for a bit anyway.

“Sir. …Oh, mister. …AUTHOR!” The scream jolted the man awake and he whirled his chair to face a grey, male, Mobian Hedgehog in a gray suit with a black tube on his arm.

“Ah, Megatron,” greeted the man, the Author. “What can I do for you?”

“May I ask you something on behalf of your characters?” asked Megatron.

“…Sure, what’s up?”

“When are you going to update our stories?”

“I have to update the site, first,” explained the Author. “People have told me that the navigation menu was getting cluttered and too lengthy. So, I pared it down and now have it devoted to pages for my posts. Your part of the site is already done, I just need to work on Arsha’s, Megumi’s, and then your combined story.”

“And how long do you think this update will take?” sighed Megatron as he became impatient. “The Decepticons have one more Chaos Emerald to retrieve.”

“You don’t know if that team will get it.”

“…What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, cool your thrusters, I don’t know when the update will be done. I WILL post this little chat, though.”

“Well, hurry it up. I have a war to win, as does Dr. Borg.” Megatron then stormed off, grumbling all the while. “Honestly, the kid pulls a Doctor Who style regeneration and he becomes much more asinine!”

“…Walking corpse!” the Author muttered to himself once he was sure that Megatron was out of earshot.