It Won't Be Long - Season 3
BA - NA - NA - NA NA!
Roger Glipglorp: “Good evening my guys, gals, and nonbinary pals - it’s time for Roger Glipglorp! I’m Roger Glipglorp, your host, here with another shattering piece of news coming out of the Pact Worlds. Alexander Marcus and Valentina Terris - sworn enemies on opposite sides of the Pact Council - were seen eating lunch together last week at a cafe on the Station. Perhaps a forbidden romance is budding? Or a dastardly interrogation? In other news, the Azlanti Star Empire has taken an increasing interest in Shadar, after powerful energy sources began to radiate from the hidden civilization. Analysts believe that they are intending to invade, but are unsure if the conflict will be worth the effort. This is made perhaps more critical due to recent sightings of the Swarm at the edges of the Veskarium, which has everyone on their toes. We go now to…"
There is a warble in the transmission, and for a moment, we step outside the dream entirely, and go somewhere beyond… A powerful vision, one crafted by the Dreamer himself, comes hurtling down upon our heads, with dire visions of the future, a glimmer of hope.
We start near the center of the Sun, where a rogue bubble city hovers in the roiling plasma, surrounded by an army of Efreeti starships. We zoom in, into the burning streets of Kahlannal, deep into the heart of the city, where a psychic resonator screams for aid. A gloved hand obstructs our view, and flips off the switch. The camera turns, following the hand up, and up, and up, ending at the face of a massive, horned Efreeti, his flowing ashen hair cascading around a smug grin. From behind him, a soldier says:
Soldier: “General Khaim, the resistance has faded with the death of the beacon. The city is ours.”
The General’s smile deepens.
General Khaim: “Take everything. Repair the ships. It’s time to hit the Archipelago.”
We cut, now staring down on Aballon, drifting closer to the city of Striving. We pass through the wide streets of the Foreign District, turning familiar corners, until we arrive at the front of the Fifth Rail. Anacite police have swarmed the building, with lights plastered on every window, and a chopper overhead. The camera rolls through the open door, bypassing the police, arriving at the concierge desk, where Rel stands at gunpoint, flanked by five officers.
Officer: “Hands up. Kneel down on the ground.”
The Android looks left and right, as if considering an escape, and then sighs. We cut over his shoulder, where a small pen attachment to his finger is writing a letter… To Lockette.
Officer: “Down on the ground, now!”
Rel: “Yes. Yes. I heard you”
The Android finishes, pushing the paper under his keyboard, and complies. The police swarm in, and Rel is arrested.
We pull away, far away, as the city of Striving becomes no bigger than a dot on the screen. We begin to orbit the planet of Aballon, traveling at frightening speeds, until a massive, orbital plate consumes our view. Heading deeper, phasing through the walls, we arrive in a small hangar, where two old friends oversee an enormous construction project.
Skittles: “Mission.”
Sarge looks down at him for a moment, and then examines the Access Beacon before them.
Sarge: “I guess so... Time to call Nakira. Tell her that it’s done.”
Another cut, to a gnarled clearing in the bowels of Castrovel. We see a feline Ysoki, Mist’s father, Clouds, limping through the underbrush, leaving blood behind him as he goes. He walks desperately, his right shoulder and left knee clearly broken, doing everything he can to take one, more step. The camera swerves to his face - showing his left eye sealed shut by days of filth and dried blood, as Nakira steps from the shadows, her yellow eyes glowing with the fury of impatience. She leaps forward, entropy building around her fists. Clouds closes his eyes. A demonic, flaming, purple fist catches Nakira’s hand, mere inches from the Ysoki’s back, and absorbs its destructive power.
Cut to black. We’re somewhere else now, with dry air and the cool luxury of air conditioning. A light switch is flipped, and a door opens. Dominic Altraeza steps into a warehouse packed with weapons, armor, vehicles, and gadgets, followed by a little gnome with pop-shock hair, and chroma welding goggles.
Hush: “Well, this is it. Everything I can give. Tickles your fancy, I hope?”
Dominic looks around, surveying the items with idle interest, and then stares at an item in a glass case across the room. A humanoid robot sits inside, with the words “Fairy-Killbot v323” engraved in its chest piece.
Dominic: “Nice… Verrrrry nice.”
Another cut, past the planet of Akiton, and onto the adjacent Idari. We go to the halls of the Pradulex Monastery, where the daily traditions have been set aside. Grand Master of the Solarions of Idari, Nawa Jin, meditates in his personal garden, as a Kasathan attendant bows before him.
Kasatha: “Grand Master, I have come with the recommendations for the trial.”
The Grand Master opens his eyes, taking the documents with one hand, scanning through them idly. Then he places them in the dirt beside him, closing his eyes once more.
Kasatha: “Sir? What should I tell the other Masters?”
Nawa Jin: “Tell them that their recommendations are denied.”
Kasatha: “Denied. Grand Master, then how should we hold court?”
Nawa Jin: “Tell the Masters there will be no court. Then inform the Quartermaster that I will require the Proving Pits.”
Kasatha: “But… sir. Do you mean?”
Nawa Jin cracks an eye, and the attendant leaps up, fleeing to fulfill his master’s will...
A new planet, one we’ve never seen before. Eox, home to the armies of the undead, and the terrifying legacy of the Corpse Fleet. But the individual we move towards is very much alive, and lives far from any known civilization, in a house-sized atmosphere bubble of his own making. An older man… No. A scientist. The scientist. The one we saw fleeing with Chad when he was just a baby. He stares out into the dead wastelands, smoking a pipe full of mind-altering medicine, his eyes filled to the brim with shame.
We fade to the Cradle of the Pact Worlds, humble Bretheda. But we avoid the gas giant itself, focusing instead on one of its moons. The radioactive hellscape known as Thyst, home to one of the Barathu’s most notorious prisons, where the worst of the system’s criminals gather rare resources from the surface. We zoom in on one such party, nestled into a cave during an acidic rainstorm, waiting for the chance to return home. Despite the location, they all wear the red and orange suits of Varos… Save one.
Ooblat: “It’s not a bad plan.”
Steel Jaw: “It’s pretty good, actually. But… Why go to all this trouble?”
The camera spins around the remains of Varos Mining Team 4, now of Thyst, to focus on its newest member. Ricardo Dominguez, the Android gunner of the Maelstrom -- one of two survivors.
Ricardo: “I have a friend that needs my help.”
The Android looks down to his arm, where a screen embedded into his skin shows a countdown, with 22 days, 13 hours, and 4 minutes remaining...
We fade, leaving the Pact Worlds, fast enough that the stars become incandescent streaks. We go on this way for an age, and then come to a momentous stop, zooming in on Isra’s home, the Forge. We return once more to the military installation bolted to the planet’s crust, where Corporal Taxus sits behind a stately desk. Deku Ollivander stands on the other end, facing the same way, looking to a writhing heap chained on the far wall. Cromwell, now devoid of any limbs, his mechanical augmentations forcibly removed. He shakes as two wires attached to his Core pump electricity throughout what’s left of his body, but lacks the strength to scream.
Taxus: “If you aren’t careful, you’ll break him.”
Deku: “Nah. I know what he’s staying alive for.”
Taxus: “His people? They are all but lost. We have seen the Core of the planet. Only Entity stands between us now.”
Deku shakes his head, walking up to Cromwell to turn off the power. The Android sighs in relief, half-lidded eyes glaring up at the man.
Deku: “Not them. He’s waiting for her… Isra. The Fire of the Forge.”
Our last fade. To a world we’ve seen only once before -- at the very beginning of our journey. A misty cave, where a golden-eyed Halfling stares harshly at his own reflection, in a pool as clear as glass. We rotate around him, looking at his actual face, just as the Centurion steps from the gloom.
Rufus: “So?”
Centurion: “They took the bait. We’ll be seeing them soon.”
The Halfling shows no emotion. He closes his eyes, and nods.
Rufus: “Well then. You better get going. They’ll be expecting you to meet them.”
And then the window shatters, and we return from the Land of Dreams.
Roger Glipglorp: “Good evening my guys, gals, and nonbinary pals - it’s time for Roger Glipglorp! I’m Roger Glipglorp, your host, here with another shattering piece of news coming out of the Pact Worlds. Alexander Marcus and Valentina Terris - sworn enemies on opposite sides of the Pact Council - were seen eating lunch together last week at a cafe on the Station. Perhaps a forbidden romance is budding? Or a dastardly interrogation? In other news, the Azlanti Star Empire has taken an increasing interest in Shadar, after powerful energy sources began to radiate from the hidden civilization. Analysts believe that they are intending to invade, but are unsure if the conflict will be worth the effort. This is made perhaps more critical due to recent sightings of the Swarm at the edges of the Veskarium, which has everyone on their toes. We go now to…"
There is a warble in the transmission, and for a moment, we step outside the dream entirely, and go somewhere beyond… A powerful vision, one crafted by the Dreamer himself, comes hurtling down upon our heads, with dire visions of the future, a glimmer of hope.
We start near the center of the Sun, where a rogue bubble city hovers in the roiling plasma, surrounded by an army of Efreeti starships. We zoom in, into the burning streets of Kahlannal, deep into the heart of the city, where a psychic resonator screams for aid. A gloved hand obstructs our view, and flips off the switch. The camera turns, following the hand up, and up, and up, ending at the face of a massive, horned Efreeti, his flowing ashen hair cascading around a smug grin. From behind him, a soldier says:
Soldier: “General Khaim, the resistance has faded with the death of the beacon. The city is ours.”
The General’s smile deepens.
General Khaim: “Take everything. Repair the ships. It’s time to hit the Archipelago.”
We cut, now staring down on Aballon, drifting closer to the city of Striving. We pass through the wide streets of the Foreign District, turning familiar corners, until we arrive at the front of the Fifth Rail. Anacite police have swarmed the building, with lights plastered on every window, and a chopper overhead. The camera rolls through the open door, bypassing the police, arriving at the concierge desk, where Rel stands at gunpoint, flanked by five officers.
Officer: “Hands up. Kneel down on the ground.”
The Android looks left and right, as if considering an escape, and then sighs. We cut over his shoulder, where a small pen attachment to his finger is writing a letter… To Lockette.
Officer: “Down on the ground, now!”
Rel: “Yes. Yes. I heard you”
The Android finishes, pushing the paper under his keyboard, and complies. The police swarm in, and Rel is arrested.
We pull away, far away, as the city of Striving becomes no bigger than a dot on the screen. We begin to orbit the planet of Aballon, traveling at frightening speeds, until a massive, orbital plate consumes our view. Heading deeper, phasing through the walls, we arrive in a small hangar, where two old friends oversee an enormous construction project.
Skittles: “Mission.”
Sarge looks down at him for a moment, and then examines the Access Beacon before them.
Sarge: “I guess so... Time to call Nakira. Tell her that it’s done.”
Another cut, to a gnarled clearing in the bowels of Castrovel. We see a feline Ysoki, Mist’s father, Clouds, limping through the underbrush, leaving blood behind him as he goes. He walks desperately, his right shoulder and left knee clearly broken, doing everything he can to take one, more step. The camera swerves to his face - showing his left eye sealed shut by days of filth and dried blood, as Nakira steps from the shadows, her yellow eyes glowing with the fury of impatience. She leaps forward, entropy building around her fists. Clouds closes his eyes. A demonic, flaming, purple fist catches Nakira’s hand, mere inches from the Ysoki’s back, and absorbs its destructive power.
Cut to black. We’re somewhere else now, with dry air and the cool luxury of air conditioning. A light switch is flipped, and a door opens. Dominic Altraeza steps into a warehouse packed with weapons, armor, vehicles, and gadgets, followed by a little gnome with pop-shock hair, and chroma welding goggles.
Hush: “Well, this is it. Everything I can give. Tickles your fancy, I hope?”
Dominic looks around, surveying the items with idle interest, and then stares at an item in a glass case across the room. A humanoid robot sits inside, with the words “Fairy-Killbot v323” engraved in its chest piece.
Dominic: “Nice… Verrrrry nice.”
Another cut, past the planet of Akiton, and onto the adjacent Idari. We go to the halls of the Pradulex Monastery, where the daily traditions have been set aside. Grand Master of the Solarions of Idari, Nawa Jin, meditates in his personal garden, as a Kasathan attendant bows before him.
Kasatha: “Grand Master, I have come with the recommendations for the trial.”
The Grand Master opens his eyes, taking the documents with one hand, scanning through them idly. Then he places them in the dirt beside him, closing his eyes once more.
Kasatha: “Sir? What should I tell the other Masters?”
Nawa Jin: “Tell them that their recommendations are denied.”
Kasatha: “Denied. Grand Master, then how should we hold court?”
Nawa Jin: “Tell the Masters there will be no court. Then inform the Quartermaster that I will require the Proving Pits.”
Kasatha: “But… sir. Do you mean?”
Nawa Jin cracks an eye, and the attendant leaps up, fleeing to fulfill his master’s will...
A new planet, one we’ve never seen before. Eox, home to the armies of the undead, and the terrifying legacy of the Corpse Fleet. But the individual we move towards is very much alive, and lives far from any known civilization, in a house-sized atmosphere bubble of his own making. An older man… No. A scientist. The scientist. The one we saw fleeing with Chad when he was just a baby. He stares out into the dead wastelands, smoking a pipe full of mind-altering medicine, his eyes filled to the brim with shame.
We fade to the Cradle of the Pact Worlds, humble Bretheda. But we avoid the gas giant itself, focusing instead on one of its moons. The radioactive hellscape known as Thyst, home to one of the Barathu’s most notorious prisons, where the worst of the system’s criminals gather rare resources from the surface. We zoom in on one such party, nestled into a cave during an acidic rainstorm, waiting for the chance to return home. Despite the location, they all wear the red and orange suits of Varos… Save one.
Ooblat: “It’s not a bad plan.”
Steel Jaw: “It’s pretty good, actually. But… Why go to all this trouble?”
The camera spins around the remains of Varos Mining Team 4, now of Thyst, to focus on its newest member. Ricardo Dominguez, the Android gunner of the Maelstrom -- one of two survivors.
Ricardo: “I have a friend that needs my help.”
The Android looks down to his arm, where a screen embedded into his skin shows a countdown, with 22 days, 13 hours, and 4 minutes remaining...
We fade, leaving the Pact Worlds, fast enough that the stars become incandescent streaks. We go on this way for an age, and then come to a momentous stop, zooming in on Isra’s home, the Forge. We return once more to the military installation bolted to the planet’s crust, where Corporal Taxus sits behind a stately desk. Deku Ollivander stands on the other end, facing the same way, looking to a writhing heap chained on the far wall. Cromwell, now devoid of any limbs, his mechanical augmentations forcibly removed. He shakes as two wires attached to his Core pump electricity throughout what’s left of his body, but lacks the strength to scream.
Taxus: “If you aren’t careful, you’ll break him.”
Deku: “Nah. I know what he’s staying alive for.”
Taxus: “His people? They are all but lost. We have seen the Core of the planet. Only Entity stands between us now.”
Deku shakes his head, walking up to Cromwell to turn off the power. The Android sighs in relief, half-lidded eyes glaring up at the man.
Deku: “Not them. He’s waiting for her… Isra. The Fire of the Forge.”
Our last fade. To a world we’ve seen only once before -- at the very beginning of our journey. A misty cave, where a golden-eyed Halfling stares harshly at his own reflection, in a pool as clear as glass. We rotate around him, looking at his actual face, just as the Centurion steps from the gloom.
Rufus: “So?”
Centurion: “They took the bait. We’ll be seeing them soon.”
The Halfling shows no emotion. He closes his eyes, and nods.
Rufus: “Well then. You better get going. They’ll be expecting you to meet them.”
And then the window shatters, and we return from the Land of Dreams.
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