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Different Outcome Part 1 - Different Outcome Part 2 - Different Outcome Part 3

"Different outcome pt 3" 

Two weeks of searching and preparations had passed since his declaration of war against Daemian Blade, his former student and lieutenant... 
He suspected his new foe may have escaped, but decided not to pursue the matter too much, the standard report-and-detain order would suffice for now.

He had more pressing matters to attend, specifically operation Checkmate, the coup de grace that would change the galaxy and bring about an empire.

Two weeks of preparation, his forces were in place and awaiting the final order to deploy.
All that remained was one final piece to play.

He made his way to the Citadel's third sub-level, his Secondary genetics lab, only remaining bastion of his illegal bio research since his impulsive destruction of his main lab on his home world.
The heavy doorway remained locked tight unless specifically told, by him, to open.
A massive security key, hundreds of random characters, biometric redundant locks, filters, scanners and a separate, isolated AI core kept the lab inaccessible to anyone -or anything- other then himself.
'and Daemian...' he recollected, regretting the liberties he had given his ward.
In the blink of an eye he cleared all the security checks, and the doors slid open.

As he strolled in the lab's lighting flickered on, the five biotanks casting most of the light as the computer screens were slowly warming up.
While the underlying software and hardware had been constantly updated by the advances of time, the cosmetics and surface hardware had remained ancient, a testimony to the lab's age.

He stopped in the middle of the lab, and waited for the old systems to register and process his intent.
After a minute a table extended from the floor, followed by an opening in the ceiling.
Several mechanical arms extruded and placed various objects on the table.
A pair of gloves, some bracers, curved metal plates, an energy cannon, three tentacles shaped themselves into a scaled Javelin weapon... Finally a helmet was placed in the middle of it all, completing the set.

It had originally been a proposition from Daemian, anticipating war he had recommended Deetex prepare some sort of weaponized form for himself that emphasized his supremacy.
Ultimately it had been of Deetex' own design, but the irony of using his own suggestion against Daemian had not escaped either of them.

As he paused, his body reacted, pockets in his clothing, compartments on his armor, even fleshy pouches from his exposed skin pulled back and opened, ready and eager to receive the equipment.
He took hold of the curved armor pierces first, placing them over his shoulders, his elbows, thighs and knees.
As he locked them into place tendrils growing from his body slithered about the pieces, meshing seamlessly with the cold metals, bonding with the alien hardware.
The bracers and gloves slid effortlessly over his trench-coat's sleeves, tightening as they locked into place.
He flexed his fingers inside their new gloves, felt the power and strength coursing through his arms, as the metal clattered and rattles at first, then fell silent in his movement.
He heaved the energy cannon in one hand and the javelin in the other, letting them shatter to pieces and crawl their way into the crevices and gaps of his new form, ready to be used at a moments notice.

Only one piece remained.

He stared at the helmet for a long time, the final piece that would carve his future into stone, a point of no return for both himself and the rest of the known universe.

Reverently he reached out and grabbed the helmet with both hands.
It was an elegantly designed piece, it's sculpted rim adorned with the deceleration of war upon all who oppose the would-be empire, topped with five points, representing the five factions involves... And himself with his four lieutenants watching over them.

Slowly, gently, he raised the piece above his head, and let it slip over his head.
'a crown befitting your kingdom, a true trophy to your conquest' Daemian had commented after he saw Deetex' masterpiece.
As the helmet slid in place a mesh of biology and mechanics weaves itself between all his new components and his skin, his trenchcoat reduced to a cape, while his shoulders and thighs formed a layer of fur, it's metalic sheen casting reflections in the ambient light.
As final touch he cast a metal layer over his grey eyes, replacing his iris with the holographic patterns he displayed when scanning every so often, now permanent.

The tyrant had risen, and he had a job to do.

Looking onto the five Biotanks, he noticed the blank vessels inside were ready for gestation.
He stretched out his arm, a small compartment slid open.

As he made his way to the middle tank, he pulled a small vial of silvery-grey fluid from his arm, the essence of his being, diluted and changed, a catalyst to something new, and inserted it into a machine.

The fluid emptied into a receptacle, interacting with large canisters of dark red matter, pumping it to four of the five, all but the middle one… the backup tank from which anyone could be grown anew… anyone but the one soul that mattered.

In less then a day the four beings would be brought to life, less then 24 hours before his creations would be ready… less then the fraction of a human's lifespan before every human's life would be governed by these beings.

"Rise, my sons…" the Tyrant muttered.
"Rise… that we may begin our crusade."

Hasarith, Dayarith, Heratex and Azraphel would soon walk about to heed their callings, soon enough join their father by his side, as he would conquer this galaxy.

"None shall stand against our empire."