NoraEcho
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Summary
Desmond didn't use the Eye, the world burned, people rebuilt and world continued.
It's been almost 300 years since then, and what was built is coming to a head.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 109,285
- Chapters:
- 29/29
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- 2,057
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- Bookmarks:
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Bookmarked by NoraEcho
10 Jan 2025
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Bookmarker's Notes
Really awesome concepts, especially regarding the “power of Belief” and what Desmond can do with the apple’s coexistence.
RELIGION AND BELIEF IS SO SICK.
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Summary
The Isu built humans in their image—flawed, emotional, stubborn. So, perhaps it was inevitable that everything else created by their hands also picked up those same imperfections.
The Eye was no exception to that.
In which, the Eye has an existential crisis and Desmond tries to survive medieval Italy, which would have been easier to do if it weren’t for the goddamn wings.
(Aka the time travel fix it/wingfic that no one asked for)
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Henry thought he did an excellent job, all things considered.
Sure, he planned to die soon, but he had done his best to help beforehand. Not by playing the role of hero or villain, but through handing out whatever information regarding the future he could. He wasn't a respected figure when rambling about Endbringer attacks, but he was hardly sticking around to see the aftermath.
Now he could pat himself on the back and wait for the Simurgh to do her work. Madison was a doomed city, and death was preferable to the misery of Worm.
But he didn’t die. Instead, he’s trapped in a quarantined city with everyone believing he's some sort of prophet.
Not to mention he’s a cape now. Fantastic.
Bookmarked by NoraEcho
26 Feb 2025
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Bookmarker's Notes
The parts with Adrian later on when he is broken is yummy.
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Summary
Cyn hadn't always been his name. It was a reminder, a label to mock him for his blatant heresy. It had originally been "sin", but whatever remnants of sanity he had left changed it into something he could claim as his own. He liked the name "Cyn", even if it had originally been made to hurt him. Besides, he couldn't remember his old name anymore. In fact, he could barely remember anything beyond a few years ago, but he knew he didn't belong here. This was a galaxy that should have killed him the moment he dared to draw breath. It hadn't, but he was practically dead regardless once the inquisition got their hands on him.
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An SI who's already been physically and mentally broken by the world of Warhammer 40k gets a half-assed apology in the form of divine powers beyond his comprehension. It's too bad he doesn't know how to use them or that he even has them in the first place. Meanwhile, the Imperium is scrambling to get their hands on what they believe to be a vessel of the God-Emperor. It's too bad their new lord can barely string two words together and is currently on the other side of the galaxy.
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Summary
"Alice’s hands shook as she traced out the image on the data pad beneath her. It had taken her hours of franticly working between shifts and cutting her sleep schedule to accomplish. Every detail had to be perfected, every line and arc exactly to the specifications lest it all fall apart. The marker was a beautiful thing, a towering obelisk against the backdrop of Aegis VII, its twisting spirals reaching towards the heavens. But she knew otherwise, was fully aware of its true purpose and the horrors it could unleash upon them all."
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Alice's strategy of survival was to leave all the Unitology bullshit alone. Unfortunately, the religious nutjobs seem to have taken a liking to her. Apparently vague descriptions of the future and confessions of insanity are a popular method to getting yourself a cult following.