Seraph Research Report 1: Pollination
Nauseously stumbling through the ethereal warp gate, Razael clung to the lingering words of Akroasis, “utopia, collectiveness, conformity.” Despite the world tree’s echo reverberating through the sapling Razael carried, his connection to the gestalt consciousness was weaker than ever. Decades of training and a life as a leading scientist on the Mirovandia home world was supposed to prepare him, but he found the slow trickle of self-awareness disorienting and chaotic.
Reaching through the collective soul of his team, Razael could feel the impact on his compatriots. Confusion and fear flooded the minds of the plantoids in his charge, and for the first time he found parts of their mind hidden from him. No amount of drills had ever prepared him for the overwhelming sense of dread resulting from this individualistic separation. He found himself growing empathetic for the unfortunate xenos born into the absurd, detached from holy unification: alone.
Focusing on his directives, like the hundreds of off world colonists before him, Razael hastily began searching for soil suitable for Akroasis’ scion, Pathos. Unfortunately, their deep space scanners had been wrong. Razael’s own data suggested that Allora would be a suitable world for pollination, an alpine biome in which the divine will of Akroasis could extend its glorious reach. Instead of the frozen paradise he had promised, Razael led his people into a tropical nightmare.
Unfamiliar and psionically unresponsive foliage twisted out in every direction hap hazardously displaying an unbelievable amount of genealogical diversity. Stange and dangerous sounds began rattling in every direction, and mystic shards of crackling energy provided an unsettling dim light under the forest canopy. With thick mass of trees, vines, and flowers blocking any vision past the clockwork temple ruin, Razael ordered the construction of an operations base-a garden.
Reaching through the collective soul of his team, Razael could feel the impact on his compatriots. Confusion and fear flooded the minds of the plantoids in his charge, and for the first time he found parts of their mind hidden from him. No amount of drills had ever prepared him for the overwhelming sense of dread resulting from this individualistic separation. He found himself growing empathetic for the unfortunate xenos born into the absurd, detached from holy unification: alone.
Focusing on his directives, like the hundreds of off world colonists before him, Razael hastily began searching for soil suitable for Akroasis’ scion, Pathos. Unfortunately, their deep space scanners had been wrong. Razael’s own data suggested that Allora would be a suitable world for pollination, an alpine biome in which the divine will of Akroasis could extend its glorious reach. Instead of the frozen paradise he had promised, Razael led his people into a tropical nightmare.
Unfamiliar and psionically unresponsive foliage twisted out in every direction hap hazardously displaying an unbelievable amount of genealogical diversity. Stange and dangerous sounds began rattling in every direction, and mystic shards of crackling energy provided an unsettling dim light under the forest canopy. With thick mass of trees, vines, and flowers blocking any vision past the clockwork temple ruin, Razael ordered the construction of an operations base-a garden.
As recorded by Yndris Dhusenel on the 5th of Madan upon visiting the newly established Fogstream Harbor in The Garden of Razael Allora.
