Dunestorm Myth

A view of Keith's Pulsar, from the satellite planet Septigia.

The Hegemon

The year was 20,001 AB. Deep into the glory years of the High Waifurian Empire, the Mummy's vile fingers tainted all corners of the galaxy. From the most desolate rocks to the most advanced civilizations, the Waifurian Empire reigned supreme- their authority was unquestionable. Fleets of Greenspill-powered Gigafrigates patrolled terrestrial orbits from star to shining star, and the Waifurian Dollar had become a universally adopted currency- although, in many cases, was adopted through force- as entire systems bent their knees to Mummy and his rotten Waifurian Astronomical Trade Organization (WATO) Council of allied (Satellite) states.

The MTO, once a liberation force renowned around the Milky Way for their incredible victory against the Combine during the Great META War, had become imperialist drones of the Waifurian Imperial Authority, obeying any and all direct orders from their superiors, no matter how unethical, no matter how gruesome. Spiritual, lyrical war hero and musician Rick Hernia had long since become disillusioned with the Waifurian Empire's bloody campaign of conquest across the galaxy, and had been in a self-exile for the better part of 700 years, ever since the unfortunately-fated Obliteration of Wan'arra, which he personally oversaw. In Rick's stead, five-minded synthetic military genius, Raxus Milluk, had taken the reigns of the Waifurian Imperial Army. And things had gone swimmingly, for the most part. Raxus had continued Rick's campaign of 'civilizing' foreign planets, bringing them all under the Waifurian Crown-- and even found the time to play mobile games on his phone whilst bombarding and slaughtering belligerents.

Keith

Keith Cumshoes Life Update

Keith Cumshoes, Rick Hernia's Co-Producer and second-in-command, had recently retired to a life of blunt-rolling and sex-having in the Temple of Rannjoe on Ghetsin 3. After his demotion following his role in the Obliteration of Wan'arra, Keith had served as Mummy's Personal Royal Grandiose Imperial Disc Jockey for several centuries, but eventually grew tired of remixing 'Ring Around the Rosie' for eight hours a day, five days a week.

Keith, then, travelled to Ghetsin 3 to smoke pot with Francis Merrigold and Millings, doing his best to be sober for as few hours as physically possible, and complaining of 'Legume Headaches' which only intensified during the Warshippers' scheduled time with the Legume (Unrequested). His connection to the Legume, despite his proximity to the sacred artifact, only weakened during this time. One day, Keith was growing particularly frustrated with his inability to roll a blunt with Legumish Particulums, when a metallic knock exploded against the door. Millings, that rotten thing, scampered away, and Keith stood, rubbing his eyes, brandishing his starmetal katana.

Advisors held a grand 20,000 year “golden age” anniversary celebration. The mummy presented a rotten speech, which we didn’t even bother to write down simply because of how little substance was contained within it. ItOn Earth, the Joseph R. Biden Imperial Anniversary Celebration was held in Albuquerque New Mexico, commemorating the Mummy’s Alleged “Victory” against purported Magarrish Armies of Donald J. trump (this was a gross misrepresentation of the Glue Factory Incident). In attendance were Keith Cumshoes and Rick Hernia, two renowned war heroes, celebrated around the Omniverse for their historic deeds. But they’d left hours ago, as the moon hung heavy over the night sky, and at this point, only the drunk or brave locals remained as the sun crested over the horizon.

As the dusty Albuquerque wind, rife with couch particulums and Chairzoggish Lumenquarks, rolled over the Sandy dunes on the cities exterior, Keith Cumshoes closed his eyes, meditating.

“Gonna be a hot one today,” Rick hernia commented, lighting a blunt. Keith nodded, his fingertips pressed together, breathing deeply.

“It always is, Richard.”

Rick passed the roll to Keith.

“From Francis,” Rick puffed a cloud of smoke into the smoldering morning air.

Keith grinned. “He’s got some good shit. Millings knows what he’s doing.“

Rick wholeheartedly agreed . In the distance, exuberant Waifurian parades shot fireworks and explosions into the sky; the smell of sulfur filled their dune and Rick covered his human-false nose at the smell.

“I’d better get down there,” Rick sighed, kicking on his rocket boots, “time to go be the Empire’s hero.”

Keith grinned. “You always are, my friend.”

Rick Hernia revealed a Bluetooth speaker; he cranked up  “B@$EDG0D” and shot off into the sky. Keith relaxed; closing his eyes once again, feeling the dust swirl around him. He tried to feel the Legume flowing through him; to feel the Energies of the Omniverse as they floated through his bones.

He felt particles from all manner of reality shooting through him; so small, infitisimally small, that they weren’t even visible to the finest Garraxian Eye. However, Keith could feel them- as Rick had taught him to- and allowed their entry through his skin, becoming one with the Omniverse.

And then the voice started.

“Keith…” a ghostly, silky voice, from some unidentifiable distance. Keith shot up; eyes still closed, focusing, concentrating.

“Keith.

“Keith…”

Keith’s eyes exploded open.

“Mother…?”” He exclaimed, in disbelief. How could it be?

Rick Hernia Celebration Technique

Rick Hernia stood atop a gilded waifurian float, drawn by armor-plated elephants and cyber horses. He waved to adoring masses of the populous, a heavy sinking feeling sliding down his throat. He’d been pulled out of hiding on GHETSIN 3 for a hefty sum—- just to be paraded around like some kind of living statue.