The Shapeshifter gazed upon the illusion it had crafted.
A blue line split the Milky Way into two, north and south, not marking territories but forming a visible psychic barrier set by the Ancient Saints.
The Shapeshifter looked up and saw the Void Dragon hovering over the black stone floor, with a metal skeleton bowing beside it.
Turning to its side, it found a Star God with a living blue-metallic body.
"Forgemaster, I need you to help me create a new weapon," the Void Dragon commanded, pointing to the dividing blue line. "This psychic barrier is anchored to planetary structures, and our weapon will erase the astral constructs corresponding to these millions of planets in the subspace."
The blue Star God responded at once, "Understood. Yet, I know little of subspace…"
"I can teach you," the Void Dragon replied, then turned to the metallic skeleton at its side and ordered, "Shalek, prepare for the assault the moment the barrier falls."
With a bow, Shalek departed to arrange the strike.
Only then did the Void Dragon leave as well.
The Shapeshifter, now alone with the Forgemaster, dared to ask, "Why must we be dragged into this war?"
"Because we are weak, and thus bound to it," the Forgemaster replied.
Hearing "we," the Shapeshifter understood he spoke of all the Star Gods drawn into this struggle by their shared vulnerability.
It wanted to say something more but was cut short, as the scene morphed into an expanse of unending darkness.
Alarmed by this unexpected change, the Shapeshifter felt a cold fear—a power other than its own had torn through its illusion.
"I know where you are…"
The Shapeshifter heard a voice. It turned, and in the endless dark, saw a figure emerge: another C'tan.
The Nightbringer.
The name alone made the Shapeshifter shudder with dread.
"Though I am but a shard, you are far beneath me." The Nightbringer halted, broken form hovering before the Shapeshifter, then eyed its hands, saying, "Your prison may keep you captive, but your fragmented essence wanders the stars—your gift and your flaw."
The Nightbringer spoke as it always had—cryptic and fragmented—but the Shapeshifter understood.
This splintered form allowed limited freedom, yet its presence was unmistakable to its kind.
The Nightbringer's fragment was closing in…
"How many slaves bind you? If they are few, I could rescue you, my C'tan kin." The Nightbringer's tone softened as though it had forgotten its prior menace.
To the Shapeshifter, this seemed typical—such shards were often plagued by missing memories or capricious moods.
"I am held captive by the Silent King," it replied.
The Nightbringer froze, then broke into cruel laughter. "Hah! The only difference between you and the Deceiver is that you lack malice in your lies. Thus, the truth in your words must be reversed."
The Shapeshifter trembled with fear, attempting to flee, but something stung it, snapping the darkness away.
As it regained consciousness, the Shapeshifter realized it was once more in reality, standing before Qin Mo.
"Forgemaster, I…"
"You finally came to your senses. Help me map a course to Cadia," Qin Mo interrupted.
The Shapeshifter, recovered from its visions, intended to share the threat of the Nightbringer, but Qin Mo's urgency cut it off.
Now it felt like a mere tool, its resentment rising at the thought that Qin Mo might never help it. Speaking of the Nightbringer's arrival, it realized, would likely make no difference.
This realization brought a moment of anger, followed by a strange calm. Rather than vent its rage or reveal the danger, it simply replied, "Very well. I will chart the course."
With memories of the galaxy unfolding, the Shapeshifter expanded the illusion to encompass the whole cosmos, asking where to mark Cadia. Qin Mo pointed it out.
"The Plague Fleet might soon attack us; the Tairon sector faces imminent war. I plan to dispatch a ship to Cadia before it begins," Qin Mo explained.
"To warn the Cadians to beware the Voskani Iron Cavalry—they will betray them in time."
"I would go now, but Creed is yet to be a Castellan, unable to make such decisions. Were we to send a fleet, the Cadians might see us as invaders. Still, even if they heed not my warning…the Iron Cavalry will not blow up the Blackstone Obelisk."
As Qin Mo spoke, the Shapeshifter plotted a path with the dimensional engine, silently following Qin Mo's directions. Understanding little of revolts or of Creed, it merely set the course, perhaps for the last time.
"What's wrong?" Qin Mo noted the Shapeshifter's unease, suspecting it had fallen into another vision.
Silently, it finished mapping the route, then muttered, "At least you need not fear the Nightbringer devouring you. For us weaker Star Gods, extinction is not yet final—some may still avenge us."
Qin Mo didn't grasp the meaning of this but saw the Shapeshifter was not hallucinating, so he asked, "What did you see in your vision?"
The Shapeshifter almost revealed the Nightbringer's hunt but reconsidered—knowing Qin Mo's powers had not fully returned, an encounter with the Nightbringer fragment would be fatal.
It shook its head, "Nothing. Just illusions."
"Speak," Qin Mo demanded.
After a pause, the Shapeshifter confessed.
Qin Mo questioned sharply, "Why didn't you mention this earlier?"
The Shapeshifter spread its hands in weary resignation, "I intended to."
"Forget it… let's focus on our options." Qin Mo lowered his head, contemplating.
Those twelve enemy ships were mere probes to gauge the Tairon fleet's strength, meaning a full invasion would follow.
And now, with the threat of the Shapeshifter's discovery by the Nightbringer fragment… a storm of dangers brewed.
Realizing this, Qin Mo looked up and asked, "If you were freed, what chance would we have against the Nightbringer together?"
"I do not know," the Shapeshifter replied. "The fragment could be powerful or feeble, but I doubt we could defeat it alone."
Hearing this, Qin Mo fell silent, only for an idea to strike him.
"Do you know what the Forgemaster's greatest strength is?" he asked.
The Shapeshifter, understanding at once, answered, "Forging."
"Exactly." Qin Mo nodded. "So, it will not just be us against the Nightbringer. It will be us… and a host of war machines."
Or rather, against a fragment of the Nightbringer.