Entering the gates to the Underverse and beyond

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THE CHRONICLES OF RIDDICK

The Gates To The Underverse

Zhylaw's Pilgrimage

by LordAvatarII
The journey to the Underverse is long and treacherous. Non-human races litter the space between the armada and Asylum. Zhylaw, the new Lord Marshal, must venture on wards alone in his ship, The Last Rites, to the very gates of the promised Underverse. With him he has his armour, a few weapons and the very secret stellar map to the gates.
The gates to the Underverse are not gates at all. It is a rift in space that was torn eons ago. It leads directly to another universe, a dark universe. Every Lord Marshal before Zhylaw has crossed through the gates. Each of them returned with knowledge or power, or both. Zhylaw hoped that he could return more powerful than anyone else ever had. He wanted to be the one who would end the campaign and successfully bring all Humans into the Verse.

As Zhylaw's ship was being prepared for departure, he sat in his throne surveying the room around him. He sighed, slumped in his throne and relaxed. "Now I am the master of all this," he whispered to himself. "All that is left for me to do now is gain my rightful powers."

Boot steps echoed through the great hall of the throne room. Zhylaw was still sat in his throne, imagining the glory of his future. "My Lord," called a soft voice. "The Last Rites is ready for departure."
"Thank you for the update," he said, raising his head to look at who the voice belong to. "Lady Minoso." He rose to his feet, pulled his cape to the side and began to walk towards the landing bay.
He walked out of a side passage and into another room. It was dark, like most areas of the Necropolis. It was also lavishly built, as one would expect from a tomb, with all manner of murals and statues. As he strode into the docking bay, a boy was on deck to show him to his ship. "This way, my Lord," he said sheepishly. "Your ship is ready for take off."
"Thank you, boy," he said sternly, patting the boy on his shoulders. "I can't wait to get The Last Rites up in the air again. It has been a while."
The boy led him to the foot of The Last Rites. It stood twenty feet high, black with stripes of gold and no windows. Everything was seen through mounted visuals which were seen on the console. Zhylaw walked up the ramp and into the ship. He placed his weapons in a locker close to the doors of the ramp. He walked towards the console room and sat down in the pilots seat. He turned the console on, which acted as a window to every inch of the ship inside and out, and switched the engines on. They hissed and crackled as they warmed up.
"Okay, I'm about to leave." he said, over the telecommunication module. "We will rendezvous at the coordinates when I send the signal. Until then, keep my Armada protected!"
The ship began to rise in the hangar bay, but not with combustion thrusts or anything so outdated and primitive. No, the ship rose on gravity wells which lifted the ship up from underneath without effort or strain. The hangar bay depressurised and the doors slowly began to open. Zhylaw's mind began to race, his pulse and adrenaline hit new levels. The Last Rites flew easily out of the bay doors, the computer screen was vivid with the colours of the Sceptal Nebular. Green, blue, red, and lots of other colours pulsated across his screen. Beautiful, he thought.
Zhylaw had to take his ship outside of the Nebular to engage the lights-speed jump to the coordinates he had on his person. Each kilometre he got away from the Armada was utter torture for him. I wonder if I'll see that sight again, he thought.
Once Zhylaw had reached a safe distance from the Nebular, he engaged the the light-speed. Once he did, the ship fired up and a countdown began on the screen. 5...4...3... "I better get strapped in," he said. "This could be jumpy." 1...0...And the ship jumped passing whole galaxies within hours.
Zhylaw was resting in his chair as the ship suddenly ground to a halt. He looked at the screen and saw that he had only managed to reach half way to the gates. "What's going on?" he asked the ships artificial intelligence.
"There is a blockade of ships and mines dead ahead," it replied. "Plotting new course now."
"Blockade you say?" he asked. "What are they? Human?"
"Unknown," was the computers only answer.
"Very well, switching to manual," he said with excitement in his tone. "I'm up for a little dogfight!"
The manual drive was switched back on and Zhylaw began his careful approach. Avoiding mines, his ship manoeuvred with ease as it drew closer to the vessels he was tracking. There were two large freighters and several fighters. Zhylaw never feared and he never backed away from a fight, even if the odds were against him, which in this case, they were.
Using the ships gravity wells, he forced as many mines as he could in the direction of the enemy vessels. Without warning, the mines hit and badly damaged one of the freighters, as well completely destroying to of the fighters. Then the explosive repercussion and debris hit and destroyed two more fighters. "This is going to be so easy!" Zhylaw remarked, aiming his ships weapons at the target. "I think I'll leave the big one for last!"
He flew into the fight and began shooting gravity shock-waves at the fighters. Another two went down with easy before they could respond in kind. Then, the computer picked up a signal and put it on screen. The image was blurred, but Zhylaw could make out a strange figure. Hmm, not human, definitely not human, he thought.
Then the figure began to speak, confirming that it was not human. It spoke in a strange language, it was mainly grunts and barks. The Lord Marshal couldn't understand, but he didn't care, they weren't humans, they couldn't be converted. KILL THEM ALL, he thought.
Suddenly the freighter opened fire upon Zhylaw hitting the side of the ship. Luckily the damage was not sufficient enough to stop his devastating barrage. There were two fighters left and they flew towards The Last Rites in an insane approach designed to take attention from the freighter as it tried to flee. Zhylaw rammed his heavily built ship straight into the nose of one of the fighters, he flew through it with ease, it was like a knife through butter. Then as he smashed through, his ship undamaged, he opened up his deadly gravity shock-waves, and within moments, the fighter was completely obliterated. However, the pilot did not die, he somehow managed to escape the fighter, only to be consumed by the radiation caused by the battle.
The pilot bubbled up oozing green blood from his face. Zhylaw watched as the alien was boiled from the inside out. "Ouch, that has got to hurt." he laughed evilly.
By the time Zhylaw had stopped watching the alien, the freighter he was so eager to annihilate, had all but disappeared, leaving only a trail of fuel behind.
Zhylaw had won, but his victory was not complete, he turned his ship around to face the mine field and opened fire. It set off a chain reaction and within moments the field had been cleared. His victory was now complete, he could move on. "Computer, switch back to autopilot and get us to the Underverse."
The computer did as it was told and within seconds, The Last Rites was back on course in the direction of the Gate.
A few hours later, the ship stopped dead with the Underverse in view. Zhylaw switched the screen on to view the sight fully. He had never seen it before. The gate was a huge hole in space, it was blue and white in colour with green specks. As he looked, he could almost see through onto the other side. He felt a strange sensation run through his body, he could feel the dark universe call to him silently. "Well, he I go," he said, manoeuvring the ship through. "Let's get to Asylum and fulfil my destiny."
The gates colours entered the ship as it entered it. Each centimetre it passed the gates orbs materialised within the ship. An even stranger feeling flooded Zhylaw's body, he felt as though he had died, and when he reached the other side, he felt reborn.
Zhylaw tapped the console, but all systems were down. He was flying blind, the only thing he could see was the luminous signs that were place in his ship in case of a shut down. All he could do was wait and hope that he didn't crash into something. A few moments had passed, and still, the console was down.
Zhylaw grew anxious, he wanted to see the dark new constellation. He struck out at the computer in hopes it would do something. Alas, there was still nothing. Then he could hear a scraping sound on his ships hull. "Oh no," he said aloud. "I hope that this isn't going to be the end of my pilgrimage!"
The scraping continued and Zhylaw was getting more anxious. Though he was anxious to see what was going on, he didn't let it cloud his judgement. He rushed to the hind quarters of the ship to look for tools to repair the console and as he did so, he heard and felt the ship land. Then the doors began to unlock and the rampart lowered and scraped the ground. "Who could this be?" he asked himself, grabbing his weapons and rushing to the exit door.
As the door opened, Zhylaw lay in wait, but there was no intrusion. He stepped through the door eager to see what had happened. He looked at the dark ground at the bottom of the rampart and saw a mysterious cloaked figure. It was beckoning him down the rampart with its gaunt fingers. He moved down the ramp and the figure moved on, Zhylaw followed with curious eyes.
The world Zhylaw was stood upon was nothing like the worlds he had seen before. It was dark, but he could see. It was cold, but he was warm. It was old, yet it all looked new. "Come, this way to the Convertati," the figure croaked at last. "We have test for you, Lord Marshal Zhylaw."
"You know who I am?"
"Yes, yes, of course we do,"
"Well, where am I?"
"Asylum,"
"Of course," he uttered, looking up to the stars around his head. "So, what tests would you like me to perform?"
"That is for us to decide," the figure cackled. "For now we must get to the Convertati."
Zhylaw and the figure walked on in silence. Strange noises crept from the blackness that surrounded them. Moans and groans. Hissing and howls. "Do not worry about the sounds," the figure coughed. "They are beasts of the Underverse. They will not attack you. . . yet."
"Yet?" he asked, unsure if he wanted to know the answer.
"If you fail test then, yes they will eat your soul."
For what appeared to be miles and hours of travel, they finally arrived at the huge black and gold building known as The Convertati. The cloaked figure walked to its only door and knock. It creaked open to reveal a warmly lit room with people bustling and bounding around. "Come, come," the figure said, waving his motioning his hands in the direction he wanted Zhylaw to travel. "We must go through to the Senatery Room for your test."
Zhylaw followed the gaunt cloaked figure into a side room. As he strode through the doors threshold, it slammed and locked behind him. The room was circular with five thrones in a circle high up in a sort of viewing gallery. There were five people seated in those thrones. The lights were dim, he could barely make out the faces sat above him. As he looked around, the gaunt fellow dis-cloaked. "Now, you must defeat me and you will receive your reward," he began, flinging his cloak across the room and picking up a mean looking sword. "but be warned, if you fall here, you shall not leave this place."
Zhylaw nodded and pulled out his double bladed sword. "This will not take long." he laughed cockily.
"Begin!" one of the observers shouted angrily.
Without notice the gaunt fellow dashed at him screeching like a banshee. It made the hairs on his neck stand up. Zhylaw rushed to meet his foe and jumped into the air with his sword out at length. The gaunt creature met his blade with his, the blow lighting up the room around them. Sparks flew in every direction.
Zhylaw parried and moved, but so did his foe. They ducked and dived, thrashing out at each other, but no blow landed. Zhylaw changed tactics, he dodged out of the light and into the dark areas of the room. The creature looked everywhere, but he could not see him. "Where have you gone, child?" he asked.
Before it could say another word, Zhylaw dropped on it from above, driving his sword through his foe's chest. The bone collapsed and broke like a dried branch. The creature fell to the cold floor, silently gazing up at those in the gallery. He lifted his hand and put his thumb up. Those in the gallery did the same and with that the creature disintegrated, leaving nothing but dust in its wake.
"You have passed the test, Lord Marshal," they confirmed, speaking in unison. "now stand and receive your reward."
The room turned black and a strange shadow enveloped him. He felt thousands of years of power and knowledge run through his body. "I feel it!" he shouted. "I feel the power of the Underverse!"
"You are now half-dead," they spoke again. "You will be able to move more quickly and shift in and out one Verse to another. You power will prove most useful."
"Thank you, I can feel it."
"Now go, bring people to us. Convert or kill!"
"I shall."
Zhylaw rushed back to his ship and boarded it immediately. He did not want to waste time bringing in the converted. He powered his ship up and set his course to the gates. "Once we're out of this Verse, drop the signal and then set course to the rendezvous. I want to get back to my Armada as soon as possible."
"Of course, Lord Marshal."