The Open Door (megacrossover)

[Academia Nut]

Okay, I am currently trying to push through this stupid freaking writers block, so I have decided to just start writing something, anything, to try and get around it. Expect lots of little crap over the next little while. Anyway, here's a little thing that has about a 0.3 on the serious metre. The prologue is very different from the main idea, it is merely meant to appal and terrify and make you laugh with the implications.

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Prologue: The Open Door

The day had not started off well, and it had only been going downhill from there. A grey, dreary sky had met him when he woke up in the morning, and just as he had left for school a sort of hybrid of a clinging mist and a half-hearted rain began to sort of drift to the ground. It was a rather depressing sort of precipitation, in that while it still had all the misery of soaking you to the bone, it had not the energy to make up for it. It was as if the weather was tormenting you out of apathetic boredom rather than actual maliciousness, which made it all the worse.

Continuing with the motif of the universe casually toying with him, somewhere along the line one of the tires for his bike had developed a slow leak, gradually making it harder and harder to push the pedals and guide it, until finally he had given up and hauled it over to a pedestrian tunnel running beneath a roadway. The weary drizzle floating in the air made it hard to actually escape the cold water, but at least there was a light in the tunnel that gave him a better view than outside. Sort of. The off yellow bulb had a tendency to flicker whenever a car passed overhead, making the illumination sporadic at times.

All in all the day seemed constructed to annoy him, and he knew that it was only going to get worse. While technically not late for first period yet, there was no way he would get to class in time, meaning that when he did arrive he would get chewed out by his teachers for being late. And of course, no matter how well the school administration accepted his reasonable excuse of getting a flat tire pretty much exactly half way between his home and the school, the bane of his existence would inevitably treat his lateness as some sort of personal affront.

Then she would probably sulk and he and the others would probably have to figure out some way to cheer her up before she tried to destroy the universe.

Again.

Some days, especially on a day like today, it did not pay to be called Kyon. Especially since that wasn’t exactly his name and now that he reflected upon it he knew that he would find it especially annoying today and Haruhi would find some reason to use an endless repetition of “Kyon-kun! Kyon-kun!” and as usual he would be limited in his ability to tell the spoiled, bratty, hyperactive destroyer and creator of worlds to just shut up.

Still, as Kyon fought with his tire repair kit in the poorly lit, damp tunnel, he made very, very certain that he did not even think that things could not possibly get worse. He was enough of a pessimist to know that things could easily get much worse, enough of a cynic to know that things would get worse, and enough of a realist to know that tempting the cosmos, especially when it already had it out for you, would not improve the situation.

Unfortunately, fate was being enough of a bitch to take his lack of invitation for a smiting as a sign of hubris and decide to give him a whole knew dollop of pain and suffering.

Kyon first knew something was wrong when the rain immediately behind him ceased its irregular patter. Turning about, Kyon discovered Yuki standing behind him wearing a rain smock with an umbrella in her hand. At first Kyon was relieved, but then he noticed that her normally emotionless and impassive face had a hint of concern and worry, perhaps even a smidgen of fear. To those that knew Yuki, this was somewhat like seeing a normal person running about in a blind panic with their hands waving in the air screaming bloody murder.

“We must leave,” Yuki told him.

“Yuki, what’s wrong? I…” Kyon began to ask something when he suddenly saw Yuki’s face flash with fear and anger, her focus shifting from him to something behind him. Whirling about, Kyon discovered another person in the tunnel.

The person was wearing a somewhat garish purple and blue raincoat, the hood pulled up over the head and the whole body slouched forward while simultaneously leaning up against a wall, as if it were a chore simply to stand. The hands were slung in the pockets of the coat, again as if even letting the arms hang from the shoulders was simply too much effort. From the angle the person’s face could not be seen, and so voluminous was the coat that it was impossible to even tell the gender.

With a sort of awful slowness, not from anything particularly ominous but because the motion felt poorly scripted, the figure turned its face towards the two SOS Brigade members, revealing an androgynous but slightly more male face concealed behind a pair of thick, dark sunglasses, incongruous with the dark, steel skies above. The face split into an ugly, lopsided grin that felt absurdly forced, almost as if someone else was trying to force the expression with their fingers.

The person then chuckled, producing a weird, atonal sound, before the person, tentatively labelled as a ‘he’, said in a choppy, disjointed manner, “I see simple hellos are not welcome here.”

“They are to your kind,” Yuki replied coldly. Already strongly suspicious that this had something to do with Haruhi, Kyon now knew for certain.

“Do I really scare you that badly? Is my presence here the dark mirror for your kind?” The man… thing… whatever asked.

“We are nothing alike,” Yuki replied coldly. Normally everything she did was cold, or at least cool, but this was like comparing dry ice to a snowball: both were cold, but only one would burn when thrown at you.

“Your denial only tells me you know how lucky your kind is in comparison to my kind… and how limited as well,” the man replied.

Getting somewhat annoyed, Kyon finally interrupted and asked, “Who or what are you?”

Yuki responded, “It is an extra-dimensional entity, one from another set of realities that the Integrated Data Entity has only recently become aware of. It is… malevolent.”

The thing canted its head to the side awkwardly, as if attempting to affect an air of bored disdain but not quite getting the motions right. Sighing, it said, “Those are our cousins, we are not so uncaring.”

“What about the man whose body you stole?” Yuki accused.

“His mind is being entertained as an honoured guest within the palace of my master. We are not so fortunate, as always, as to be able to simply form ‘humanoid interfaces’ at will,” the thing said.

Kyon looked at the man again and he realized that all of the creepy awkwardness could be said to stem from the fact that it looked like the mind controlling it was unfamiliar with the skin it was wearing. Seeing his stare, the man reached up and removed his glasses. The reason for their presence became immediately obvious.

Instead of eyes, there were only empty pits filled with blackness, and perhaps, if you stared too long at them, tiny twinkling stars that should not have had room to exist. It was an eerie, disturbing sight that was mercifully cut short by the thing returning the glasses to their position on its face, but what had been seen could not be unseen and Kyon felt a shiver creep up his spine that could not be blamed upon the weather.

Not even the homicidal Ryoko had displayed anything quite so sinister, and perhaps only the monsters conjured up by Haruhi in Closed Space during her blackest moods could approach the inhuman malignancy that now radiated off of the creature.

“If you truly care at all, the man will be returned unharmed to his body after we have finished our conversation. His destruction would not serve us, and we have no desire to antagonize any of you. We merely wished to ask a favour of you, and it is not one that would be truly onerous or odious,” the thing said.

“His kind lies. Do not listen to him,” Yuki warned.

Snickering harshly, the thing replied, “And what if our request was that you keep doing what you are doing? Would that cause you to immediately go out and tell Haruhi everything simply to be contrary to what we asked?”

Yuki frowned before she said, “Your kind always have ulterior motives.”

“But of course. For now though, it is entertainment. We get a cheap laugh or two out of your various misadventures handling your young, immature goddess. We have no intention of disrupting the delicate balancing act you maintain, not when it is so amusing to watch. No, we merely wish to ask for permission to travel through this dimension,” the thing said.

“Why?” Kyon asked suspiciously.

“Your goddess has altered this reality so that those who know how can slip through. We intend to use this reality as a transit hub of sorts, allowing us to slip through to other realms, other possible realities. Unfortunately, should your goddess alter the rules again, we would no longer have such an opportunity open to us. Pragmatically, we wish to spread to other realities as a form of back-up plan, but really, we are in a lull phase of our own operation back home and it would amuse us to no end to explore infinity,” the creature replied.

“So you want to conquer the universe,” Kyon said flatly.

“Just our own, and if you knew it, you would agree that it needs conquering. Where we come from is not a nice place, not a nice place at all,” the thing said.

“Your kind makes it that way,” Yuki accused.

“As I said, those are our cousins, who incidentally, we are offering, one time only, to keep away from your lovely reality. They are far less subtle, yet far more experienced with trickery, and no where near as benevolent as my kind. Also, as extra-dimensional travellers, we are ultimately unaffected by your goddess. Oh, scouts and agents might perish during a reality rewrite, and the doors might be barred to us, but ultimately neither we nor our less compassionate brethren actually care what happens here,” the creature replied.

Kyon shuddered in mute terror. Assured destruction was what had held the various factions in line and prevented any overt action around Haruhi, but evil outsiders with no concern for casualties added a whole new level of horror to the calculations.

“What would your ‘cousins’ do if they got here?” Kyon asked.

“They would destroy us,” Yuki stated.

“Correct. There are those who would immediately want to charge in and cause all sorts of death and destruction, the streets running with rivers of blood and that sort of thing, all very cliché and predictable. Haruhi would probably panic under such a situation and realize that having alien invaders from another dimension slaughtering her friends is not something she would want and rewrite this world into something far more bland and boring. And then there would be the others who would seek a more indirect approach, who would seek to change her,” the creature then lifted one of the man’s hands out of the pocket of the jacket. At first it was normal, but then with a sickening crunch the bones started to warp and break, the flesh splitting open to release jets of iridescent flame. Bits of burning, molten fat dripped from the limb for a moment until it all sealed up and returned to normal.

“How would you like it if Haruhi was informed of the sort of goddess she truly is and then convinced that she deserves to be worshipped, that she deserves sacrifices made to her? Or how would you like it if she was convinced that whips and chains and leather and piercings in sensitive places sound like a fun time and everyone should join in? Or all of a myriad of other possibilities, of ways that she could be corrupted. Every human vice and weakness and flaw and negative aspect that you can think of, my kind, and our cousins more so, can exploit and magnify. It would be so easy too with someone like Haruhi. But we do not want that, we merely wish to explore. So what do you say? We leave you alone and keep the nastier members of the cosmos off your back, and you leave us alone and keep Haruhi happy like you have already been doing?” The thing asked.

“Why are you asking us?” Kyon asked back.

“Well, technically Haruhi should be the one we’re asking, but that entails a certain unpredictability we do not desire, so it falls to her ‘handlers’ to ask permission from. Of course, all of the SOS Brigade should be here, but Itsuki is both particular strong and particularly vulnerable against me, so he won’t come within a hundred metres of my position, and Mikuru is rightfully terrified of what I am and what I represent, so I ask you two, knowing that you can speak for the group,” the creature replied.

Yuki looked at Kyon in a sideways manner for a moment before she said, “You are not to be trusted… but the Data Integration Entity trusts you more where you are visible. We will not act against you.”

Kyon looked at the thing warily before he said, “I agree, I don’t trust you, but I don’t know how to stop you from doing something worse if you don’t get your way.”

“Excellent. A pity that we could not work more directly, but here the deities do not know their own power, unlike where I come from. If you need anything, you two, or any other member of the Brigade, can simply say my master’s name three times and a representative will be sent to you,” the thing said.

“What is your master’s name?” Kyon asked.

“Tzintchi.”

---

Welcome to Thousand Shinji Gaiden: The Open door, the oddly named, probably non-continuity, side story set after Thousand Shinji, where bored Chaos gods will explore the multiverse for their own amusement. Chapter 1 will be titled "Rematch", to give you some idea of what will be happening.

[Darth Yoshi]

I figured that it'd be a 40K cross of some sort, but Thousand Shinji? Hehehe. So, the "cousins" the Black Pharoah referred to, are they the Chaos Goddesses, or C'tan?

[LadyTevar]

Oh my dear gods.

Now someone explain to me about the SOS Brigade and the immature goddess?

[Darth Yoshi]

Not having seen The Melancholy of Suzumiya Haruhi myself (although I intend to), I believe that the SOS Brigade was a school club founded by Haruhi to investigate the existence of aliens, ESPers, and time travelers. As it turns out, the members of the club fall under those categories, and Haruhi herself has godlike powers over reality.

[Vehrec]

Not having seen The Melancholy of Suzumiya Haruhi myself (although I intend to), I believe that the SOS Brigade was a school club founded by Haruhi to investigate the existence of aliens, ESPers, and time travelers. As it turns out, the members of the club fall under those categories, and Haruhi herself has godlike powers over reality.

And when they call her godlike, they mean it. Haruhi can create and destroy whole existences at a whim-she has in fact already done so at least once, since the world she lives in Did Not Exist three years before the beginning of her Freshman year of High School. The only thing that seems to be stopping her from doing it again is the fact that in the very last episode of the series, Kyon kisses her while she is destroying the world and she restores it to make him happy or something. She does not realize that it was real, and thinks it was all a dream, but she wears her hair up to school the next day because he said it looked good that way right before he kissed her.

[Academia Nut]

Correct, Haruhi wields the power to completely remake reality at a whim, and she will do so if she gets bored. The catch of course is that she knows absolutely none of this, so not only must her minions keep her entertained at all times lest she obliterate the universe in a fit of pique, but they can't actually tell her any of this for fear that she will obliterate the universe and make a new one once the newness and excitement wears off.

[size=0]Additionally there is some evidence from the novels that the anime is based off of that Kyon, the sarcastic narrator, is actually god, and he has given Haruhi her powers to help entertain himself by watching her hijinks. Despite being the normal one in the group, he is alarmingly intelligent and well informed at times and seemingly immune to Haruhi's powers[/size]

But yeah, you can now see why letting any of the Ruinous Powers anywhere near Haruhi is categorized under the heading of "Really Bad Fucking Ideas". If any one of them got their claws into her they could turn an entire cosmos into a playground for Chaos that would make regular 40k look like a stroll through a sunny park on a warm Sunday afternoon.

[Academia Nut]

Chapter One: Rematch

The rumble of battle could be heard in the distance as the guns of Tokyo-3 duelled with the latest intruder threatening to extinguish the human race. Up close the roar was quite literally ear shattering and could even kill an unprotected human that stood too close, but here, several valleys away from the primary fighting, the fury of the storm of metal being thrown at the Angel was reduced to a low, continuous thunder.

And then, for a brief, awful moment all sound was drowned out by an eerie buzzing noise, the sort of thing that would set animals into a blind panic in their cages half a continent away. But then the sound stopped, replaced by something far, far more terrible.

They stood there, a quartet of them, fifty metres tall and each one of them ghastly and horrible in its own unique way.

One was clad in bronze armour that flowed and fused with brilliant scarlet flesh, its face obscured behind a helm of ancient design and cruel, pitiless countenance. Enormous, bullish horns rose from beneath the helmet, while the hands were set with terrible rending claws capable of gutting battleships and the brass hooves on the feet could easily slice through tanks. Not that these natural weapons were necessary considering the colossal bronze axe it held in one hand and the cruel, barbed and bloody whip it held in the other. Sprouting from the armour on its back were two great, leathery wings clearly large enough to carry this beast aloft. Circling about it were keening warrior women, armed and armoured in bronze capable of cutting through steel, their hair streaming behind them as blood coloured banners.

Standing next to this war god forged in the traditions of Mediterranean antiquity was the bearer of plagues and pestilence. Its flesh simultaneously bloated and gaunt, it was corrupt throughout, bearing a tangible miasma of disease that caused all about it not forged of immortal essences to wither and rot. What exactly it had once looked like was impossible to say beyond the fact that it carried itself upon a humanoid frame, so decayed and twisted were its scabrous features. Somewhere along the line its lower jaw had come loose, leaving a long tongue hanging free, dozens of lamprey-like maws adorning the nearly prehensile appendage. Clutched in one meaty, tumorous mitt was a great, ghastly sword that was more of a cleaver for preparing meat than a weapon of war. Its grey-green, necrotic flesh crawled with life, from yellow maggots the size of large dogs to humanoid figures that seemed to be walking conglomerations of cancers give life. A layer of pus and ooze adorned everything of this monstrosity, and its skeletal wings were not so much bat-like as they were bits of bone and connective tissue with great sheets of green mucus replacing the skin typically found on such appendages.

Flanking the war god on the opposite side from the plague bearer was a creature that met just about every dictionary definition of the word ‘obscene’. Not only was it an unholy monstrosity like its fellows, but just to look upon it would have caused any so called ‘moral guardian’ to spontaneously combust in sheer horror. Its flesh was a bright, garish, sex toy pink, and the only adornments were not so much covering its flesh as piercing it. Not that covering up would have done much good without a jumbo jet sized burkha, for it seemed that every inch of its flesh had some form of erogenous zone, male and female, copied over, and in many places the various mouths and genitalia and nipples were interacting in ways that only made glimpsing the creature even more of a violation of decency laws. Of course, the places where there would have been such things on a human were only writ large versions of what was expected. Six large orifices, gaping like wounds, leaked out semen, sexual lubricants, saliva, narcotics, liquor, and beer. From the top of its head, framing its perfectly formed face sprouted a cluster of writhing black snakes and decidedly phallic tentacles. Clutched in one hand and coiled about its seductively proportioned hips was a long, snaking whip, intended for capture where the war god’s meant to inflict ghastly, bleeding wounds. The opposite hand bore the true killing implement, a brutal crab like claw that could peel open hardened bunkers with casual, dismissive ease. Great black, feathered wings rose from its shoulder blades, just as with the others. Swirling about this monster were keening, naked, seductive women, their siren call capable of lulling mortals into passivity so that they could have their way with them.

But leading the group was the most awful one of all. At first glance it seemed the most human of them all, a Titan of old clad in a simple loincloth and wearing a face concealing head dress like that of an ancient pharaoh, but further examination of its flesh revealed a certain incorporeal quality to it, such that if you gazed too long at it you could see beyond. Not beyond into the surrounding area, but beyond, into the cosmos of sparkling stars, billowing nebulae, and swirling galaxies. And if you gazed further, you would then see beyond even that, into the space between the stars, the space between the void, where these creatures made their homes, and the mind shattering horrors that dwelt within. Of course, to stare at such things was hypnotic, meaning that the longer you looked at it, the harder it became to look away, until it was too late. Clasped in its great hands was the symbol of its authority, a titanic spear that coiled and uncoiled like the strands of life and fate. Once this had been metaphorical, but time with its new master had altered the weapon such that it now literally moved upon its own like a writhing snake. Adorning its back were not one but three pairs of wings, the feathers adorning them constantly shifting through a myriad, hypnotic, unpredictable pattern of reds, blues, and purples. Flying about it were dozens of smaller versions, whispering secrets to their great master.

The Evangelion avatars of Tzintchi, Asukhon, Reigle, and Mislaato were all here. It was perhaps something of a risk, but the temptation to play around in this timeline, so similar and yet not at all similar to their own, had overwhelmed them. Their objectives were simple: Asukhon would engage in a little rematch with Zeruel, Reigle would hunt down the souls of SEELE to add to their collection, Mislaato would find and devour Gendo for similar reasons, and Tzintchi would just observe and laugh.

It was good to be the king.

Taking to the air and followed by their clouds of lesser daemons, the four Chaos Gods observed the familiar terrain from the air and wondered what their former comrades, or hell, they, would think of such a sight. The thought brought chuckles to their dark hearts. Breaking into a wide banking turn when they reached the airspace above the city, they discovered that Zeruel was already descending into the Geofront. Swooping in, they followed as the Fourteenth Angel was met by the barrage from the waiting Unit 02.

If NERV had not known about these new intruders, then they certainly did now. The battle paused for a moment as both defender and attacker tried to discern just what the hell these new, unholy monstrosities were and exactly whose side they were on. Finally after the Chaos Evas landed some distance away and folded their wings to watch did the fight resume, with Unit 02 opening up with everything it had.

Asukhon gazed over the equipment and sneered. Pathetic. Unit 02’s only hope was that the absolutely lacklustre showing so far had kept the Angel from adapting much. And… nope… Unit 02 got decapitated, and an appropriate fight scene before hand either.

Getting up, Asukhon stretched her Eva’s wings a bit while rolling her shoulders and limbering up a bit before stalking over to the Angel, cracking her whip and bellowing out in a booming voice, “Hey, shit head, its time for our rematch, you and me. One on one.”

Zeruel considered this offer for a moment before it fired its main beam weapon directly at the slowly advancing Asukhon. There was a tremendous explosion and then… Asukhon continued to advance, as if she had never even been hit. Zeruel fired again and again and again to no avail, until the unholy beast was standing next to it.

Casually Asukhon snapped out her barbed whip, cracking it against one of Zeruel’s arms, shredding the broad, flat, thin, cutting appendage. It lashed out with its other arm, only for the red and bronze titan to dodge aside contemptuously. In fact, all she did was evade its attacks for a time until it regenerated the wounded arm, at which point she lacerated the opposite one.

“Come on you bastard, evolve, you’re no sport the way you are now!” Asukhon bellowed while the other gods watched in amusement.

“My counterpart is attempting to sneak into the battle while carrying an N2 mine,” Reigle pointed out.

“I know,” Tzintchi replied while watching with amusement at Asukhon teaching Zeruel to be a better melee combatant just so that she could have more fun slaughtering the Angel later.

“Should we let her join in on our fun?” Mislaato asked slyly.

Tzintchi pondered for a moment before he replied, “Nah. The Children are not the ones we are here to torment. My dear Reigle, if you would do the honours, could you disarm that little firecracker she is carrying before she hurts herself with it?”

“Of course,” Reigle burbled happily, waving a hand and causing the N2 mine clutched in Unit 00’s hands to corroded and disintegrate into its component parts in seconds, leaving a very stunned looking Rei examining the rust stains on her Eva’s hands.

“Incidentally, how goes the hunt by your Reiglings for SEELE?” Tzintchi asked idly.

The terrified faces of the various SEELE members were shoved out of the pus and mucus engorged flesh of Reigle’s Eva for a moment, vomiting forth the lethal slime from their lungs just long enough to begin screaming before they were once again dragged beneath the surface by the Reiglings that infected the Eva.

“Very nice,” Tzintchi commented.

“I get first crack at playing with them when we get home. Bastards cost me my father, I deserve some fun time with them, but the ones we already have you already nearly broke before I woke up,” Mislaato pointed out with a slight pout.

“There, there my dear, we already agreed that you would get to have this batch. Not quite the same I know, but its not like any of us didn’t have our own grievances with them and you were still gestating at the time,” Tzintchi said soothingly.

“I know, I know, it’s just that… holy shit, is that you?” Mislaato said in surprise, pointing at where Unit 02’s head had landed, the enormous thing having crashed through the ceiling of a shelter, and sitting there staring morosely at it.

“What the fuck? Alright, change of plans. Mislaato, go hunt down Gendo whenever you want, I need to see how pathetic I really was without Khnemu and the teachings of Tzeentch,” Tzintchi grumbles while heading out from his observation position to examine this other version of him. Already his Black Pharaohs were flying ahead to detain everyone and keep the alternate Shinji from fleeing.

By the time Tzintchi reached Shinji, Zeruel was finally fighting at Asukhon’s demanding standards, which meant that both of them were now engaged in a blurring whirlwind of death from which a light rain of blood was being ejected. Shielding the shelter with his Eva, Tzintchi peered in at the panicking crowds being kept in line by his servants and how they had isolated Shinji, who had just collapsed into a hopeless heap next to Unit 02’s severed head.

Forcing his flesh opaque so that Shinji would focus upon him and not the swirling visions from beyond, Tzintchi exited his Eva in a deliberately Christ-like pose with his arms held wide, supported by ethereal tendrils of force until his bare feet touched the concrete floor and Tzintchi stood before the apathetic Shinji.

The deity stalked about the creature that could have been him if not for the intervention of the gods, and he felt only disgust. Finally he reached down, grabbed the boy by the shirt and hauled him effortlessly to his feet. There was no real fear in the boy’s eyes, just bottomless self loathing.

Sad, apathetic brown eyes stared into a black void, before finally Tzintchi could no longer stand to hold the piece of filth and so he dropped the boy unceremoniously to the floor.

Tzintchi gazed at the severed head of Unit 02, still wearing the armour the Evas had originally come with before he had helped influence the designers into developing better equipment. Finally an awful idea crystallized in his mind.

“Is it too big for you? Is the price of failure not tangible enough even when it stares you in the face like this?” Tzintchi asked, his voice echoing with power.

Shinji may have mumbled something.

Tzintchi let the blackness surrounding his face lift enough to reveal his mouth so that he could grin evilly at the boy. “If this was not enough for you, then perhaps something a bit more tragic rather than statistical will help you.”

When they dragged her in, she was still in shock from the disconnect just before Unit 02’s head was severed. Of all the sights that day, perhaps the most eerie for the civilians in that shelter was the sight of Asuka in her plug suit being hauled along by two Valkyries: blood soaked crimson Amazons with collections of skulls on their belts and enormous axes in their hands that looked exactly like the young woman they were carrying.

The two lesser daemons threw Asuka roughly to the floor, having no compassion to the girl who could have been their mistress if not for a quirk of fate. Shinji just stared in shock between the faces of the Valkyries and Asuka’s.

Tzintchi finally let the last remnants of the blackness obscuring his face fade away so that Shinji could look upon his own face upon the body of a monster.

Sneering, Tzintchi said, “Congratulations, you are now looking upon your face after you failed to save everyone you ever might have loved and cared for. You are looking upon your face after Third Impact. Know now the price of failure.”

One of the Valkyries raised its double headed axe high while another held an unresisting Asuka down, her neck exposed for the killing stroke.

Somewhere along the downward descending arc of the blade there came an impassioned cry of “NO!”

The axe hit bare concrete and released a shower of sparks before Tzintchi let out a snort of derisive disgust. “Took you long enough to get your head out of your ass.”

Shinji was cradling Asuka’s limp, but unharmed, body, bawling his heart out at the horror he had almost witnessed. Squatting down so that he was level with him, Tzintchi said, “Kid, I fucking killed people for Asuka I loved her that much, and I know that somewhere in you there is enough of a spine that you could do it too if pushed. Now get up off your sorry ass and let loose all that shit you’ve got stored inside you. Trust me kid, whatever you’ve suffered, I’ve probably already had ten times worse, and I got over it.”

Getting up, Tzintchi allowed himself to be lifted up by the same tendrils that had lowered him down from his Eva in the first place before pausing to say, “Oh yeah, if its any consolation, the we’re taking most of the world ending pressure off you for the last three Angels. The things they keep attacking Tokyo-3 to get? Well we’re going to eat them like takeout.”

“Did anyone order the bucket of Lilith?” Mislaato asked while dragging the still crucified Angel behind her with one hand. “Or the urine soaked Gendo with the side order of Adam?” She then held up an absolutely terrified Ikari Gendo with her other hand.

“I already got my takeout,” Asukhon noted while sitting on the remains of Zeruel and munching on a hunk of flank while its skull-like face adorned one of her horns.

“Then we shall be off,” Tzintchi noted before glancing at the Lance of Longinus embedded in Lilith and saying, “Actually, just a second.”

Hauling the Lance out, he then stuck it into the ground next to where Asuka and Shinji lay. Towering over them, he said, “I already have one of these, you can keep this one just in case the remaining Angels are too much.”

Turning to the others, he said, “Alright, now let’s go.” With a wave of his hand he opened a portal out of the universe back to the one ruled by immature gods whereupon they would then hop back to their home reality with their prizes in tow.

Tzintchi helped Asukhon haul Zeruel through while Reigle aided Mislaato with Lilith. While they were heading through Asukhon commented, “That was awfully generous to give them the Lance.”

“Oh, I have a plan with regards to that,” Tzintchi noted slyly.

Rolling her eyes, Asukhon asked, “When do you not have a plan?”

[The Grim Squeaker]

Ach, poor angels.
You could have used Greater Daemons (Titan sized bloodthirsters have been known), but nooooo, you had to be Nasty

[Vehrec]

But yeah, you can now see why letting any of the Ruinous Powers anywhere near Haruhi is categorized under the heading of "Really Bad Fucking Ideas". If any one of them got their claws into her they could turn an entire cosmos into a playground for Chaos that would make regular 40k look like a stroll through a sunny park on a warm Sunday afternoon.

Conversely, if she could be guided to use her powers for good instead of awesome, she might just be able to wipe the Ruinous Powers from existance with but a thought. So even for them, going too close to her should be categorized as a really bad idea.

[LadyTevar]

Of course you know.. now you have to write the aftermath of *that* Shinji.

[Academia Nut]

Chapter Two: Diplomacy

The Outsider stood before their group, smiling faintly in a disconcerting way, waiting for them to come to a decision on his proposal. They all knew of his kind, and had thanked their lucky stars that until this moment it had been impossible to cross the barriers between realities like this. But now this creature had come to them.

By some fortunate stroke of luck the Outsider had come from a strange branch of its family tree so while it was a psychopathic killer with no concern for those that stood in the way of its goals, it actually didn’t believe in maximum collateral damage as a goal and it seemed like it could be downright pleasant to its allies and followers.

Of course, it was still from a group known for pathological lying, so they didn’t particularly trust it despite its protestations that it was really quite friendly.

But all of this left them in a rather unpleasant dilemma. This creature had, by all rights, achieved what it had by its own merits, and by their laws they had no real right to restrict its actions, especially since it did not exactly exist on the same plane as them. Similar, but not the same. Of course, it was also evil. And did they really want this thing and its fellows running about their back yard?

But then again so were their own cousins and so far they had not done anything to impede their actions. The Outsider had very carefully planned its presentation too. It knew that the current majority refused to intervene in the mortal realm even with their own existence threatened. It had also told them straight up that it was brutal and unforgiving to its enemies and courteous to its allies, and while they still did not quite believe the latter statement, they very much believed the former. While they could probably restrain the Outsider, the chaos in their own ranks would be devastating as the interventionist faction would take this as precedent and gain possibly enough popularity to form a majority.

They could not let that happen.

“Very well, we have considered your offer. So long as you stay out of our affairs on this plane you and your allies will be permitted leave to explore the mortal realms unhindered and unimpeded,” the leader said to the Outsider.

“And should the mortals take to worshipping my master and his queens?” The Outsider asked.

There was a moment of hesitation before the words were said, “If it is their choice then you may lend them what aid you may desire.”

“I thank you, my master will be most pleased to hear this news,” the Outsider said happily before vanishing back to the realm where it resided in this universe.

All assembled wondered if they had just made a terrible mistake.


In her lifetime Shilash had witnessed many incredible things. She had seen fire rain down from the gods to punish the wicked. She had seen strange foreign men in odd clothes that seemed to make them blend into the trees come to her village to say that the deities she had known all her life were in fact false gods who had tricked them into worship with fancy devices. And then she had seen the deathly pale man walk into her village and say that all that refused to follow his words would be destroyed. Confused, by so many conflicting messages in such a short procession of years, the village had refused to give an answer.

And now Shilash was probably the last member of her people, a great plague having struck them down. She had been one of the last to suffer infection, and now she was crawling half delirious through the forest surrounding her village, her entire world on fire and in pain.

And now an angel knelt before her. Shilash’s eyes could not focus, but she could see the radiate beauty of the creature before her, her skin milky white and glowing with the greenery of the forest. Shilash cried at the wonder of it all.

“Hello Shilash of Karadesh,” the angel told her softly.

Shilash just smiled, it was all she could do.

“You have suffered much my dear, and you have endured it so well. You have lost everything, even hope, and yet you still keep moving forward. Your beauty stuns me,” the angel said. Shilash would not say that she was beautiful now, what with the various ugly sores upon her body, but she was in no position to argue.

“Would you like to follow me and my mistress?” The angel asked.

Shilash nodded.

“Thank you,” the angel said before leaning in close to kiss Shilash upon the forehead.

The most incredible sensation filled Shilash as catastrophic pain welled up within her such that she thought she was going to explode from the agony, but then it went up over a wall and she realized that while the pain was still there, nothing could compare to it anymore. She opened her eyes and despite the spoilt milk colouration that clouded them over, she could see, she could truly see for the first time in her life.

She had been blessed by the angel, the sickness within her body transformed from a curse into a blessing. What wonders her flesh now held and what compassion! Her once frail, selfish frame was now strong and durable enough to carry so much life. She would carry her own children in her womb, why not the children of flies in her flesh?

The angel of rot next to her smiled. “Welcome into the fold of Reigle sister, I am Lady Charity, designated servant in this galaxy.”

“We must return to the village, there may still be others still alive who we tell of this blessed occurrence,” Shilash said excitedly.

“Nothing is beyond Reigle or those touched by her gifts,” the angel said with a smile. “Even those who have perished can still help in our struggle.”


SG-1 had seen some appalling things since the arrival of the Priors in the Milky Way, but by far this scene topped anything they had ever witnessed. Immediately beyond the exit of the Stargate was a field of butchery that not even the Goa’uld had ever engaged in. Dozens of headless, flayed corpses had been strung up or nailed to crude supports as a very clear “Keep Out” sign. Watching from the monitors in the SGC of the MALP telemetry, the flagship team of humanity could only imagine the smell.

It was, however, Teal’c who first pointed out the obvious. “Do the followers of the Ori not burn those that defy them?”

Frowning, Mitchell said, “Yeah, the Big T is right. This doesn’t fit the Ori MO at all. They don’t leave warnings like this; they either convert a place or wipe it out.”

His face deeply furrowed in shock and confusion, Daniel finally said to Walter, “Zoom in right… there.” He then pointed to an area on the screen beneath one of the corpses. The technician obliged and the camera zoomed in on the spot Daniel designated, at which point they realized that something was very, very wrong.

Piled up in a small heap and soaked in blood and hacked up in places were several copies of the Book of Origin. This was not a warning from the Ori; it was a warning for the Ori.

“Someone obviously wasn’t a fan of Origin,” Mitchell commented dryly.

Frowning even more deeply now, Daniel pointed out, “The locals on P4X K79E are a peaceful, agrarian society dominated by the Goa’uld for millennia. They don’t have the sort of society that would react this way.”

“Teal’c could one of the various mercenary or rogue Jaffa groups have done this?” Mitchell asked.

“Unlikely, but possible. Such mutilations were seen as a waste of time by most of the Goa’uld when they already had most worlds terrified of them,” the stoic Jaffa said clinically.

“Either way it looks like some outsiders came in after one of the Priors, killed anyone who looked to be turning to the Path of Origin and then left the bodies there as a message to the Priors and anyone looking to follow them,” Carter said.

“Which means that the next time a Prior shows up the bastard will fall on the locals like a ton of bricks. We had better find out who these maniacs are before they do this again,” Mitchell said before turning to General Landry and asking, “Sir, permission to take a team through the gate and see if we can get the locals to tell us who did this.”

“I agree. We have to stop these people before they make things worse for everyone, us included, but you’re taking SG-3 and SG-12 with you. Whoever did this had numbers and willingness to kill and mutilate those that stood in their way. You’re taking plenty of firepower with you,” General Landry told them.

“All right team, let’s gear up,” Mitchell said only somewhat enthusiastically.


The smell was indeed as bad as they had expected. Every member of the teams were veterans of combat, the original members of SG-1 more than probably any other human on the planet as they had been engaging the Goa’uld and now the Ori for the better part of a decade on an almost regular basis, but the smell of a battlefield was different from this. Decay had set in, but without the skin to act as a barrier to escape there was little bloating.

Strangely enough, despite the savagery inflicted upon the bodies, little blood was spilt upon the ground, indicating that the killing and mutilation had taken place elsewhere. Not entirely unusual. What was unusual was the fact that little blood had been smeared upon the various supports holding the bodies, indicating that perhaps the bodies had been actively drained before being strung and nailed up.

Slipping into the woods, the SG teams slowly and cautiously infiltrated forward towards the location of the nearest settlement on this world. While unlikely, there was still the possibility that whoever had done this was still here and…

All thoughts the SG team were having trailed off when they crested the final hill and discovered the region around them utterly deforested, the timber having been used to construct a massive wooden palisade about the village. People were toiling away to finish clearing the land, hauling up roots and digging trenches and burning wood to make charcoal. What had once a peaceful, agrarian village was rapidly being turned into a fortified camp bustling with industry.

“My… God…” Mitchell muttered while surveying it all.

“Should we make contact?” Carter asked.

“Some of the woodcutters have wandered out further and they don’t appear to be supervised. We could probably approach one quietly and ask about what is going on,” Daniel suggested.

“Sounds like a plan,” Mitchell said before motioning for several of the Marines from SG-3 and 12 to accompany him and Daniel while the others stood on watch.

Selecting one man partially obscured by scrub that had yet to be cleared away, the two of them revealed themselves several metres away before Mitchell said to the woodcutter chopping enthusiastically, perhaps even over enthusiastically, at a tree, “Howdy.”

The man whirled about in an instant, his axe held high and threateningly before his eyes caught up with his motion and he immediately stopped. This also let SG-1 get a good look at him for the first time, and to their horror a large, ragged series of cuts had been made on his forehead, forming an eight pointed star. The wounds looked fresh an untended to, for blood still trickled from partly formed scabs to clot upon his eyebrows.

Upon seeing them, the man immediately said, “The Tau’ri!” before dropping his axe and falling to his knees, crying out, “Blessed be the Lady!” He then ripped open his shirt and began clawing at his chest, revealing a series of brutal scars from previous similar wounds.

“Whoa!” Both Daniel and Mitchell cried out simultaneously while rushing to the man’s aid. As they tried to restrain him in his frenzy, he fought back for a moment before he calmed down a bit and said, “Oh… I am sorry my friends, I was merely overjoyed to be chosen for this great honour. Yes, great honour.”

“So you decided to start clawing yourself?” Mitchell asked incredulously.

“Bloodshed does please the Lady, although her envoy counsels against excess. Thought must be coupled with fury, which is why she welcomed the envoy of the King. He was the one who foretold of your coming! You are the changers of ways, the great hope for the galaxy! He said you would come, and any who met you were to welcome you as brothers! The Lady’s envoy agreed! Come, come!” The woodcutter said, nearly working himself into a frenzy again.

“Uh… I’m not sure if we want to go into your village right away,” Mitchell pointed out.

Nodding, the woodcutter said, “Yes, the King’s envoy said that you would be wary and cautious. He said you would rightful fear an ambush, so any who met you should only bring you to the gates of the village, where you would be safe with your weapons against us and we could speak as equals. Is there one named Daniel Jackson amongst you?”

Frowning in bemusement and confusion, Daniel said, “That would be me.”

Smiling broadly, the man looked ready to go into another fit before he said, “The King’s envoy said to give you special regard, for you were amongst the wisest of all beings in the galaxy! Wiser than even the builders of the Chappa’ai!”

Looking both confused and slightly flattered, Daniel asked, “Why did the envoy say this?”

“Because you would not have let them into this galaxy,” the man stated, sending a chill down Daniel’s spine.

Before more questions could be asked the radio crackled to life and the commander of SG-3 said, “Lt. Colonel, we’ve got Prior activity at the village.”


The Prior stood before the defiant village in a nearly apocalyptic rage. The only thing that kept him from destroying this entire place outright was the fact that whenever he tried to open the minds of these people to find out who had done this outrage, something began whispering blasphemies into his mind, telling him lies about the Ori.

Raising his staff high into the air, he shouted out, “Who has done this?”

The gates to the village opened and out stalked a young woman wearing primitive bronze armour and holding a wicked looking axe. What skin was visible was coloured bright red, and sticking out from beneath her horned helm was a long banner of vermillion hair. Strangely enough, the only thing that was not some shade of red or bronze was a solid black band of iron about her neck that appeared to have been permanently welded on. She smiled wickedly at the Prior, revealing teeth sharpened to razor points before she said, “I am Lady Justice, envoy for my Queen to these people, and I convinced them to turn away from your false path. Some were not so willing to cooperate and sadly the conflict grew violent. We disposed of their corpses as is our new custom.”

Raising his staff, the Prior said, “All those who refuse to walk the Path of Origin must be destroyed.”

“Before you attack, could you say it?” Justice suddenly asked.

The Prior looked confused for a moment, hesitating at the strange request.

Rolling her eyes, Justice said, “You know, that catch phrase you guys use with that hollow, monotone voice. I want to hear it.”

“Hallowed are the Ori?” The Prior asked in confusion at the insanity of the woman before him. He knew that those who rejected the Path of Origin were sick animals in need of putting down, but this was a new low.

“Not like that! You need more gravitas, you need to say it like you mean it, like you’re about to commit genocide and need the empty words to soothe what’s left of your humanity lest you think about the consequences of your actions,” Justice said indignantly.

Now the Prior needed to say the words just to focus himself away from the madness. Lifting his staff, he let awful white light leak from the crystal as he intoned, “Hallowed are the Ori.”

“Awesome! BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!” Justice cried as she leapt into the air.

---

I said this would be a megacrossover and I meant it.

[Xon]

I want to see their faces when they run into the Xeelee

[Crayz9000]

Apparently Lady Justice was a SG-1 fan

[Academia Nut]

Well, its not like they're going into situations blind, so they have some intel on those they are facing. They're unlikely to tangle with any cosmic overloads like the Xeelee (to say nothing of the fact that I've never actually read the books) although they might slouch around with some of the higher end guys just to see what is going on.

And really, Lady Justice just wanted to show how much cooler her goddess' catchphrase is.

[Xon]

Stephan Baxter's books are quite cool, his short stories are just plain awesome. The earlier novels tend to have quite poor characterizations but he does get better, the various recent collaborations easily have the best characterizations.

Vacuum Diagrams is probably the most iconic book in the Xeelee Saga. It is a bunch of short stores stiched together by a really horrifying metastory.

The Silver Ghosts create an learning machine with infinite processing power and effectively infinite storage. Foresight & planning is mostly a matter of processing power.

Think about that for a second.

[LadyTevar]

Now... considering all the *other* in-jokes in the SG-1 universe (StarWars, Star Trek, etc) ... would anyone on an SG team actually recognize that battlecry?

Other than from Michael Morecock's favorite Albino, that is.

[Satori]

I saw this coming as soon as a read "Kyon"...

Mostly because i was playing around with a similar concept for my own fanfic. Like with what you seem to be doing, I figured Haruhi can control the borders of her reality and allow or disallow passage... with very interesting implications for multiversal conflict.

My plan was BtVS rather than WH40k, but I really like your idea. More please.

[Academia Nut]

Chapter Three: Introductions

Whatever the Prior and the SG teams watching had thought was going to happen most emphatically did not. The Prior’s staff flashed with white light for a moment before Lady Justice was completely unaffected, her axe flashing through the air to cleave the staff effortlessly in two and remove one of the Prior’s hands. Bright red blood spurted through the air and stained the Prior’s robes as he fell to the ground in complete shock at this absolutely unexpected turn of events.

Lady Justice grabbed the Prior by the hair and hauled him not quite up to his feet, but up far enough that all of his weight was hanging by the scalp.

“The Ori are weak and you are a fool for following them!” Justice told him as she raised her axe high.

For the first time since he had been chosen, the Prior knew fear. All the powers he tried against this abomination did nothing, and whenever he tried to reach out for aid from the Ori he only heard mocking laughter and a voice telling him that his gods were not there.

“SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE!” Justice screamed out at the top of her lungs before bringing her axe down hard on the Prior’s neck, severing his head with a spray of blood. His body began to spontaneously combust, but the flames could not reach the head, instead twisting away from the hand that held it as if the fire was afraid of Lady Justice.

Considering what had just happened, it probably was.

Holding the slightly charred and very bloody high above her head, Justice let out a terrific bellow that was joined by all of the villagers watching. She also held the severed stump of the neck above her face so that as the remaining blood drained from the skull out of the severed blood vessels it poured down upon her face and there was little doubt that she was drinking the blood of the Prior.

The SG teams looked a little green at the sight before them, especially the way the villagers seemed to be ritually mutilating themselves in their victory frenzy. The woodcutter they had found finally lost it in the throes of religious ecstasy and ran out into the open field, crying out enthusiastically, “The Tau’ri are here! Blessed day, the Tau’ri are here!”

“Well there goes the element of surprise,” Mitchell mutters darkly before he waves for SG-1 and half of SG-3 to get up and follow, saying, “Look casual boys and girls.”

Walking out of the tree line, the SG teams causally walked along the scrub land towards the woman that had just taken apart a Prior without breaking a sweat. Admittedly, she appeared to be somewhat specialized towards killing Priors as she was using an axe and wearing antique armour, but she was frightfully fast and strong and if she got amongst them it could quickly turn into a bloodbath before they could bring their guns to bear.

As they drew nearer, Lady Justice lowered the severed head and nodded courteously to them, saying, “Ah! The famous SG-1, we have been expecting you.”

Coming to a stop at what was a relatively easily defensible position, the SGC personnel spread out into a neat military formation that would maximize their ability to bring fire upon attackers from the direction of the village, especially Lady Justice, while still keeping an eye on other avenues of attack.

Clearing his throat, Mitchell then said, “You’ll forgive us if we would prefer to stay out of range of your axe for the time being.”

Laughing heartily with a fierce, throaty bark, Lady Justice said, “Of course not! You are no fools, we expect nothing less.” Tossing the Prior’s head casually to one of the villagers, she said, “Here, put this with the others.”

Slinging her axe across her back, Justice then removed her helmet, revealing the fact that the horns were not in fact attached to the helmet but grew directly out of her forehead, which caused the SGC members to realize that her skin was at the very least dyed red rather than painted. Her eyes were little orbs of red and black. But other than the eyes and the teeth and the horns and the colours she looked like a normal young woman who should probably being going to school at some nice university rather than tearing apart Priors and drinking their blood. It was distinctly more creepy and disconcerting for the SG teams than if she had been some sort of monster. Monsters they could deal with.

“While it’s not exactly of an introduction, you seem to know us already, and we heard your name during that little spat with the Prior, so I guess with that out of the way, the obvious question is how exactly you did that,” Mitchell asked.

“Of course you would ask that,” Justice said with a smile. She then touched the iron band about her neck and said, “My Queen made this for me before she sent me on this mission, to protect me from the powers of the Priors.”

“Who is your queen exactly?” Daniel asked.

“She is the Lady of War, Asukhon,” Justice said, the name somehow seeming like it should have a crash of lightning and the panicked neighing of horses accompanying it.

“Never heard of her,” Mitchell said.

Grinning lopsidedly, Justice said, “Until the Ori invasion, she preferred to keep a low profile.”

“She’s an Ancient, isn’t she?” Daniel asked bluntly.

“Not quite, but if you wish to think of her as an ascended being, then that is one way of thinking of her. Or any of the others,” Justice explained.

“Others?” Mitchell asked.

“My master and two others share power with Lady Asukhon,” a man said as he languidly strolled out of the village. He was an odd, Asiatic looking young man wearing long blue and gold coloured robes and an unruly mop of black hair framing a faintly smiling face. A strange aura of almost perceptible static and vertigo seemed to surround him, as if there was something very wrong with him but to actually place what exactly that might be was impossible.

“And you would be?” Mitchell asked.

The young man said something… or cleared his throat.

“Gesundheit,” Mitchell said.

“That was my name,” the young man said.

“Oh,” Mitchell stated.

“Technically Lady Justice’s name is equally difficult to pronounce, but it means justice so she just went with it. Mine means forethought, which doesn’t quite have the same ring, so you may call me Prometheus,” the man said.

“Prometheus, right. So you’ve got Lady Justice here and you mentioned two others?” Mitchell asked.

“Yes, Lady Charity and Lady Compassion. They are currently on other worlds performing their own missions. In fact, we all have separate missions and for the time being we have little interest in communicating with each other, so I can’t exactly say where they are,” Prometheus explained.

Raising an eyebrow, Daniel asked, “Then why are you with Justice here?”

Grinning broadly, Prometheus said, “I was waiting for you to come here. Lady Justice is rather blunt and obvious, and would not fail to get your attention.”

Justice looked down at herself for a moment before she grinned and said, “I try.”

“And you want what with us exactly?” Mitchell asked suspiciously, ignoring the little by-play from Justice.

“I have a gift for the Tau’ri,” Prometheus stated before calmly reaching into his robe and pulling out a small flattened egg shaped object that sits in his palm. Pressing a button on the side caused the top to fold open and for a series of holograms to begin to play, showing a series of schematics for weapons that looked remarkably like something produced on Earth.

“What is it exactly?” Mitchell asked cautiously.

“Detailed plans for building coherent light weapons of sufficient power to be useful to you,” Prometheus stated. “Would you like me to come over and hand it to you, or would you prefer I stay back and let one of the villagers bring it to you?”

“I hope you don’t mind if we take the second option,” Mitchell said.

Beckoning to one of the closer villagers over to him, Prometheus passed off the object and the man, who appeared to have ripped off one of his own ears recently, rushed over to SG-1, absolutely thrilled to have been honoured with the task. He quickly handed it off to a waiting Carter before scurrying back to his fellows, who were all beaming proudly.

Giving Carter a few moments to look over the device for any traps and then look through the schematics within, Mitchell then asked, “So what’s it look like Sam?”

It took a little while for Carter to absorb the knowledge, but one she realized exactly what she was looking at she exclaimed quietly, “Holy Hannah! Cam, these schematics detail how to completely revolutionize the way we use lasers. These weapons are better in every possible way. They’ll hit harder, shoot faster and straighter, have more ammunition, and are more durable than any other weapon we’ve ever encountered in the galaxy. Even the power cells are more efficient and rugged than most weapons their size would warrant. And its not just the schematics for the weapons… it’s the schematics for the tooling to make the weapons and detailed theory behind the operation and… wow… just… if we got these ten years ago, before we found the Stargate we could have begun production in under a year. With all of it together… Cam, we don’t even need to hide most of this, it’s well within our technological level while still being better than anything else we’ve seen on the subject.”

“I see you like it,” Prometheus stated. “The technology comes from a civilization that was very concerned with making robust, reliable weapons for its troops. I have access to designs for other, more powerful weapons, but I fear that you will have to negotiate for those.”

“Who are these people?” Daniel asked.

“That is a very long story, but the short answer is that they no longer exist. And no, our masters and mistresses had nothing to do with why their civilization no longer exists. They simply inherited the knowledge from the last survivors of those people,” Prometheus explained.

“Okay… so let’s say we wanted to negotiate with you folks, want exactly do you want from us?” Mitchell inquired.

“Oh, not much really. The promise of religious freedom to practice our ways and convert anyone willing to our beliefs would be nice. Of course, we would not break any laws in the practice of our worship,” Prometheus explained.

“Unless of course they start it,” Justice pointed out.

“Now Justice, you are the rightly appointed leader of this village and the Prior and those that followed the Path of Origin threatened members of the village. By all accepted standards of law you were merely carrying out your duty as the leader of a sovereign government to protect those under your rule,” Prometheus said. Daniel and Mitchell frowned at that little speech as it had obviously been intended for them, while Carter was still busy looking through the schematics for the laser weapons.

Teal’c however was the one to respond, “I do not believe that the Tau’ri or the Free Jaffa will be comfortable with another religion spreading in the galaxy after the Goa’uld and Ori have shown us the horrors of false gods.”

“Indeed,” Prometheus said, making them all wonder just exactly how much he knew about them. He then added on, “But we have power and wish to spread it for the benefit of all in the conflict against the Ori. That will bring others to us; others who will wish to emulate us and will want to know of our religion. Surely the Tau’ri have been asked to spread their religion to those they have liberated before?”

SG-1 shifted uncomfortably at that. While as the first contact team they tended to move around too much, the issue had come up far too often with the diplomatic teams working with local populations afterwards. It was a touchy subject and official policy was still hazy as to handle it. So far there had been no proselytizing but try as they might to avoid the subject, there were several populations that had converted over to earth religions- or approximations of them from what they had learned through inquiries to lay people- that had sprung up around the galaxy.

Fortunately Teal’c came to their rescue. “Indeed they have been asked, but they have not made it their mission to do so.”

“Neither will we, we simply feel that in times of religious extremism and fear we would prefer to ask first rather than risk unfortunate misunderstandings later,” Prometheus replied. He then added on, “And that is just a formality request in any event, a symbolic exchange of good wills. What I truly wish to obtain is industrial capacity from the Tau’ri and Free Jaffa to help uplift the worlds that fall under our protection. We have access to much knowledge, but not the capacity to use the majority of it to the full extent.”

“So you want us to build your laser guns for you, and in turn we get to keep some of them,” Mitchell summarized.

“That would be one way of looking at it,” Prometheus admitted. “But those negotiations are for another day, when you have your diplomats around. For now though, please take my gift as the gesture of good will that it is. You can contact me on this world whenever you wish to begin the haggling.”

As the SG teams retreated from the village back to the Stargate, Justice asked, “Well?”

“They’ll do what we need them to do. Even if the individual members of SG-1 are smart enough to realize how evil we are, the governments are too short sighted and greedy to refuse the technology we have to offer,” Prometheus said with a grin as he dropped the illusion that kept them from opening fire on him on sight for looking like Anubis.

[Vehrec]

. . . A vision occurs to me of Jack fighting with a Power Sword against Asukon cultists and spawn who are screaming for his blood while he, motivated by the forces of Irony and Humor yells 'Avalanche For the Stanley Cup!'.

[Ford Prefect]

“Hallowed are the Ori.”

“Awesome! BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!”

I seriously cannot stop laughing. This is great Nut.

[FA Xerrik]

I'm a little unclear on why the Evangelion folks needed to negotiate with Haruhi for access to her plane. It works as some sort of hub for the rest of their dimension jumping?

[Academia Nut]

More or less. The way I'm writing the cosmological architecture is that most higher level beings (the Ancients in Stargate, the Outer Gods in the Cthulhu Mythos, the Powers that Be in Buffy, etc) are aware of other universes and realities, but actually getting there is much, much more difficult to do. Haruhi on the other hand created her universe to allow for such things, so if you know the way you can use it like a transport hub. You can't get from A to C directly, but using B as a stop over point you can. Also, so far the crosses have been between an alternate timeline (canon Eva) and a universe that already has screwy reality borders (Stargate).

Basically they asked permission from the guys in charge of handling Haruhi because a.) they like screwing with people's minds, b.) it prevents conflict with the various power groups that could make Haruhi aware of her powers and thus potentially wreck the utility of using her reality as a transport hub, and c.)[size=0]if you go by the theory that Kyon is really the one in charge then it was more important to ask him than anyone else[/size]

Although amusingly I have just learned that apparently Sailor Moon could also work as a transport hub amongst anime universes

[Xon]

So where would you put the Time Lords in that type of cosmological architecture?

[Shinova]

Just brushed the first bit of your fic and I have only one small nitpick: Kyon refers to Yuki by her last name, Nagato. He doesn't call her Yuki yet. Haruhi is the only one he calls by first name.

[Redleader34]

I was going to suggest, after googling crossovers, that the "SRW" universe be used as a crossover point, as it seems to serve as another nexus with Eva. My god though, what happens when the Doctor gets wind of this. This is right up his alley of madness