In Pan Post 2, the first in-story post for Pantheons of the NeSiverse, Fladnag the White is acting as vizier for The Big O, who is the ruler of the entire NeSiverse. When Highemperor and Soriel arrive to conquer the NeSiverse, Fladnag willingly surrenders the title to Highemperor without a fuss. Highemperor is then harassed by Runekeeper nagging for Fladnag's wisdom, along with many other supplicants until Highemperor is so frustrated he gives the title back to Fladnag - just as Fladnag has expected.
Who Wants to Rule the Universe Anyway?
On the edge of the NeSiverse lie the Outer Galaxies. On a desert planet called Tatooine, the Big O pursues his hedonistic pleasures in his remote palace. Meanwhile, his faithful vizier, Fladnag the White, enacts the actual governance of the cosmos.
Fladnag the White: Next!
President of the Outer Galaxies Swim Team: But I wasn't finished!
Fladnag the White: I already told you no.
President of the Outer Galaxies Swim Team: But we HAVE to have a match here! On the very capital world!
Fladnag the White: Look, you're more than welcome to try. But good luck keeping a giant pool of water from evaporating. NEXT!
Pig-faced Gamorrean[Ext 1] guards usher the President of the Outer Galaxies Swim Team away, and Fladnag looks towards the door of the throne room. He himself is standing next to Big O's throne, clearly delineating his position as vizier and governor in the omnipotent deity's stead.
When no one comes in right away, Fladnag frowns, before speaking into a microphone attached to his collar.
Fladnag the White: Dora! What's the hold-up? If the next supplicant is delaying, boot him out of line.
It is then that the door to the throne room opens, and a supplicant attempts to come in, before being decapitated by an extremely sharp and bloody sword.
Decapitated Head: I say! Brutish swordplay won't make you next in line!
Fladnag's frown deepens. Two young-looking men walk in, stepping over the decapitated head. One is a caped, short-haired, young swordsman, whose sharp blade still glistens with the neon blood of his latest victim. The other is a long-haired man in a black cloak and outfit, with red sash and shoulderpads.
Highemperor: You do know that it's extremely poor form to keep talking after you've been decapitated?
Yes, this is indeed a younger version of Highemp, from earlier in his personal timeline when he was a multiversal and multi-temporal wanderer. His companion, the talented and bloodthirsty warrior Soriel, boots the vociferously protesting head out of the room.
Soriel: Hey look! More guards! Hope they're hostile.
Gamorrean guards are approaching the duo, and Soriel eagerly raises his sentient sword - known as Fred Teh Uber Blade - to greet them. The guards pull back at a gesture from Fladnag, much to Soriel's evident disappointment.
For once, the vizier's voice is slightly fearful.
Highemp: You know me? Well, I suppose my reputation precedes me.
It is then that Fladnag realizes this is a younger Highemp, and not the present-day ruler of a phenomenally large and powerful empire.
Fladnag: You might say that... what do you want?
Highemp throws out his arms in a grandiose proclamation. Fireworks spark behind him for effect, summoned by his magical powers.
Highemp: I'm here to conquer the NeSiverse!
Soriel: You've got to stop using those fireworks, it renders them speechless every time.
Highemp: That is sort of the point.
Soriel: Whatever. Can I kill those guards now?
Highemp: Only if they attack first.
Highemp: Now where is Oh... Og... Okmerkith?
Highemp: Right, him. Where is he?
Fladnag: He's in his chambers, enjoying his harem.
Fred Teh Uber Blade: A harem? Suddenly this just got more interesting!
Soriel: SILENCE BLADE!
Fladnag looks quizzically at the young swordsman. No one can hear Fred's voice except the one who holds him. Highemp looks apologetic.
Highemp: Ignore him. Now, lead me to him, that I may overthrow him!
Fladnag: Well, if that's all you want, you don't have to do anything to him. He doesn't care about ruling the universe. Gave me that job.
Highemp: You? And who are you?
The time-traveling wanderer looks Fladnag up and down. He is in a gray robe, and a tall pointy gray hat. A long white beard flows down his chest.
Fladnag: I am NOT! Why does everyone keep saying that? I am Fladnag the White!
Highemp and Soriel look significantly at Fladnag's clearly gray robes.
Fladnag: It's not MY fault it's impossible to bleach out Tatooine's sand.
Highemp: Whatever. Looks like I've got to overthrow you then!
Soriel: Does this mean I can kill him now?
Fladnag snorts. Highemp he fears, but he'd like to see a mortal swordsman try.
Fladnag: Fine. If you want the job, you can have it. Your seat, my lord.
He gestures to the throne, much to Highemp's confusion.
Highemp: You... give up?
Fladnag: Well, who am I to resist an obviously superior force?
Highemp and Soriel trade glances. Soriel just shrugs. Highemp collects himself.
Highemp: Right! Exactly! You show great wisdom! You may remove yourself now.
Fladnag: Of course, my lord. I'm sure you're eager to greet your supplicants.
He bows, and hides a smile as he leaves. Perhaps he can catch a nap... though he wonders how much sleep he'll actually get. Soriel looks after him with some consternation.
Soriel: Are you SURE I can't kill him?
Highemp: I wouldn't kill a surrendered foe!
Soriel: I would...
Highemp: Kill those guards if you must. I'm glad to hear I already have supplicants, here to praise my glory and majesty!
The Gamorrean guards bleat in terror and try to run away, but Soriel is on them, killing them in moments.
Soriel: That was very satisfying. But too short.
Fred Teh Uber Blade: That's what she said!
Soriel: SILENCE BLADE!
Highemp: Of course, you do realize that, without the guards, you have to usher in the supplicants now?
Soriel trudges to the door of the throne room as Highemp settles himself in the throne - which is far too big for him, sized as it is for a tentacled monstrosity - as a bald man holding a huge tome comes in.
Runekeeper: Fladnag, I-- You're not Fladnag.
Highemp: How very astute you are! I am Highemperor, the new supreme ruler of the NeSiverse, and your lord!
Runekeeper: Right. Where's Fladnag?
Highemp: He's not here any more! I'm the one you're dealing with!
The Runekeeper, god of all magic in the NeSiverse, whose book holds every rune and spell and magic-user who ever did or ever would exist in that cosmos, looks skeptically at Highemperor.
Highemp: Earth's god of magic? Er, I don't seem to recall meeting one when I was there...
Runekeeper: Of course! What kind of idiot do you think I am? Er, one moment please, just received an urgent text.
He pulls out his phone and hurriedly googles 'Earth's god of magic'.
Highemp: But your phone didn't beep.
Runekeeper: I have it set on vibrate! Er, so as not to disturb your chambers with, um, unnecessary sounds, my lord. Anyways, as I was saying, OF COURSE I googled it. Unfortunately, the only results I get are Hermes Trismegistus and Thoth.
Highemp: I think I've met both of them before...
Runekeeper: But Hermes, while adept and powerful at WIELDING magic, AND a god on that planet to boot, isn't a god OVER magic. And Thoth, while a magically authoritative and knowledgeable god, seems to just be a bookworm.
Highemp: Well, sorry, but I don't think I can help you.
Runekeeper: Well, can you get Fladnag? I bet he would know!
Highemp: Ugh! Enough about Fladnag! NEXT!
Soriel ushers the Runekeeper out, and the next supplicant comes in. For several hours, Highemp deals with frustrating supplicant after frustrating supplicant. They all have problems they want him to solve, and when he can't, they want Fladnag. As the most recent supplicant is ushered out by Soriel, Highemp slumps in his throne.
Highemp: WRAAAA! No wonder Big O delegates to Fladnag. I think I need an empire of my own before I can conquer the NeSiverse, so I have people to delegate ruling to!
An inspiration comes to him, manifesting as a light bulb over his head.
Highemp: I delegate you, Soriel!
Highemp: Yes, you are now my chief vizier. You can see all these supplicants.
Soriel: Fair warning, if you make me vizier, there will be a lot more decapitated heads around here.
Highemp: WRAAAA! Fine. FLADNAG! Where the frack did he get to?
Soriel: Well, you did tell him to take a hike...
At that moment, Fladnag the White walks in, much refreshed after his siesta.
Fladnag: And indeed I did! But I am here if my lord requires me.
Highemp: Right, yes. Er, in my magnificent magnanimity, I have decided to allow your universe autonomy for the time being. You may resume your duties, and Big O can have his throne back. It doesn't fit me anyway.
Fladnag: My lord is most gracious.
Highemp scurries out of the palace as fast as his legs will carry him, with Soriel trailing behind. Fladnag resumes his position standing by the throne and raps the butt of his staff on the floor.
"This post is actually part of the mini-series "Highemperor and Soriel's Adventures in SPAAAAAACE!!!", which originally began during the Memory Lane Story Arc of NeS2." - Britt the Writer