«12. . .6,8196,8206,8216,8226,8236,8246,825. . .6,8746,875»
OOC: I've been working on this for the past few days in my spare time so enjoy
The Saiyan from Foli - Beyond The Shackles
Location: The Hidden Schism
Time: Seconds after leaving the Temple under Senate observation
The meddlesome trickster of the sector, the ancient Puriran elevated from her ancient society by the Fallen God of Knowledge, returned to her realm of limitless possibilities and closure.
Her realm was one she fashioned herself thanks to the teachings of that God, at one time in the past she was loyal to his ideals and visions of a better future. But then he let grief, bullying and anxiety get the better of him. He went over the edge and got shattered by the man he considered his greatest friend… It was her laboratory, her sanctum, her archive, her workshop and so much more. From this realm she meddles in matters of life and death, plucking worthy souls whose lives were cut short and in need of redemption or much needed closure or taken villains who did not get what they deserved in either respect.
She was often seen as a villain but this was by her own design. Because she knew people needed something to motivate them in order to better themselves even when they needed a chance to lift themselves up from nothing but misery. She knew change needed a catalyst, so if she must serve as one then she would do so. She did this for many of the sector’s current powers. Most recently that was Felix, Wilhelm, William, Jack, and most recently Jeremy… But she failed with William. He disappeared into the night and now she can’t track him or the presents she gave him. Something is keeping him hidden. Something powerful enough to overwrite all the failsafes she placed in him… She knew of the existence of higher powers. True Dragons, Pilgrims and other such beings of true primal power. Her theory on his disappearance was that one such being took a liking to him and snatched him up. Oh well… She can’t waste her resources on a lost cause any more than she already has.
She stepped into the pristine and clinical white halls of her lab, forged of metals and crystals as the windowed walls show the spirals of swirling colours that make up the realm, and stepped into a room with large suspended vats with human and humanoid bodies within… These vats held people she plucked from the material plane to offer new chances. She stumbles and braces herself against a rectangular console with white crystals jutting out a port on the left side that shined and sung a small harmonic chime. She could stop the shaking, she grit her teeth as she felt the withdrawals of fate's hand and she desperately fought against the pull…
‘I’m not going back there… I… I have all the information I need… But.. But..’ Her internal monologue further served to try and ground her. She knew that travelling there, to that impossible temple, was dangerous… What murals she saw served to pull her fate in another favour. That is why she had to leave. She worked so hard to free herself from her own shackles, she would not be bound by more. She wanted freedom. She sacrificed so much for freedom… Too much.
This crushing, miserable feeling persisted as she anchored herself to her realm to keep her stable. In time she finally came down, steady breaths passing through shadowed lips as she sat down with her back against the console she braced against and looked out a nearby window into the swirling clouds of multicolour pass by before she grit her teeth once more… Pain passed through her heart. “Why… Did you have to go there… Even your nature will be useless against whatever is there, planting strings…” Worry, guilt and so many more conflicting emotions filled the Immortal witch’s heart. She couldn’t believe the rotten luck he had, even as a shard of his former self he knew just how to walk into danger.
She wondered if she would have to see him with new strings… She didn’t want that. She’ll have to grab one of the shards soon. They are her only anchor to keep her free will from Salem.
She sat against the chequered tiled floor for a while as thought of ways she could arrange for a new anchor but the option was unappealing. She created it originally using a formula based around love… She hated it, still does. She doesn’t hate the man that she had to sacrifice however. That was the tragic irony of the spell she used to create her free will anchor. She must love in return as well as be loved. Being so close to losing her freedom made her introspective to what she has done.
She brought her hands to smack her own face and pep herself up. “Haaah… Enough feeling sorry for myself! I have work ahead of me.” She rose to her feet and went to work. She still had to meet with her newest ‘project’.
She looked back to the console she was working on. Across the console were readouts of a humanoid body that had massively traumatic modification done to it in a dramatically slim timeframe. This readout was for a Saiyan, a modified one based on a Mystic human that he was cloned from. One she was familiar with. The absolute safest route for her work was to simply eliminate the current ‘Jeremy’ and create a new iteration based on the original design while keeping the current version somewhere else. This prevents any nasty surprises from the Vim Creature in the short term from Jeremy’s end…
But the possibility exists that ‘Victor’ took everything that made him up and just left a husk of limited potential that IS Saiyan. Vim entities control life perfectly, so it is entirely possible that along with there being no Vim left in Jeremy’s system for him to worry about, he was just a trauma ridden recreation of what he was originally intended to be. A human clone with Saiyan DNA mixed in. If that was the case then she could alter him as she pleased.
The real issue lies with the company he made a home with. The clone of his adopted sister that was corrupted by Victor personally and the Ghoul woman who had been gorging herself on Victor’s cells. Both of them were now a hazard, any progress she made with Jeremy is jeopardised by their polluted existence… She needed to find a way to engineer their deaths without being involved personally. Otherwise the aberration will no doubt seek to kill her for her act of kindness.
Then a thought came to mind… The Original known as Drake had his territory interfered with by Jeremy during his time being led around by Victor. Now that… Would be a suitable way to both clean up Jeremy’s walking sources of trauma and allow her to cement that she was his only hope… Now~ How to lure Drake into massacring Foli?
Location: Foli Outskirts
Time: A day after he recruited the Vampire Natasha into the Kints-oni.
Jeremy stood off in the forest beyond Foli looking into the town from the treetops, his raid on one of the Safehouses for a Vampire gang calling themselves the Black Tusks. His new Enforcer to his own gang, a ragtag syndicate thrown together by his alter ego Asher going by the name Kints-Oni to hoard wealth along with loyal muscle and information, has spilled what she knows about the gang's new backer. A minor Vampiric noble by the name of Adam Trask. That noble has been dipping their toes into the human world, taking over several human gangs through compulsion and intimidation to run drug rings and scams and the occasional human trafficking operation to bring in blood bags for him. The Black Tusk’s work as a branch of enforcers who keep the human gangs in line and out of trouble. With her death faked that opened up a window to strike at more of their operations and increase his reputation as a hero and gather more muscle for his crime organisation that Asher runs. If that wasn’t already good news, his sudden epiphany on telepathy opened up new and interesting ways of bringing order and cohesion to his underlings and new ways of dealing with his enemies.
He was using his time getting used to this new ability to passively listen to the echoes of internal thoughts of those within the Town. He did some brief training with Natasha before to make sure he doesn’t hurt normal people with his new ability and now he is continuing on his own. Of course he wasn’t just being nosy, he was training it by exposing his mind to the sheer white noise of it all and then focussing on singular minds amidst the storm…
Easier said than done. Thankfully he liked the chaotic white noise of so many voices, for as much as he hated Victor he did at least come to miss the arguments he and Hero would have in his head. Asher existed now but he was normally quiet unless Jeremy slipped into the alter ego or made a clone.
As he keeps his eyes closed, listening to the sea of internal voices. He recognises several people he talks to in the day to day. Avoiding two voices in the crowd. Fear keeps him away from their minds… He would rather be blind to them then reach out and find only his voice in their place.
“Enjoying the view, boy?” An older voice called from below. Snapping Jeremy back from listening to the crowd of voices. A shaky sigh comes from him as he looks back to the small oriental woman that he called master.
“Not really… I liked this town once…” He says with traumatic candour. Peering up into the sky to see a shimmering vale where none was before. Then the rustling of leaves. Another duplicate of himself going back into Foli. ‘I guess I’ll be going somewhere.’
“You will be in a moment.” His master answered his mental musing as she smiles, seeing him look at her in disbelief before she continues. “You only think you liked this town. Because it is close to her grave… I’ve relocated it by the way.”
“Wha… When did you do that?” Jeremy says as he balls up his fists. He didn’t like people interfering with Cass’s grave. Not even someone he thinks of as his master.
“A good while ago. I noticed it after the foundation messed with her grave, I moved it then. Purely to keep it from being tampered with further… I have no doubt that it would be targeted by the Vim abomination or the Foundation again should something happen to her clone. Rest assured, I will do nothing to her body or her soul.” She says as she peers up at him, her eyes filled with sincerity and promise.
He wanted to ask when she did that. But he didn’t feel like she was leading him on or tricking him… He calmed down and looked back out to Foli. “Why did you say ‘should something happen’? Are they in any danger I should know about?”
“What I implied was purely hypothetical. I have no reason to assume the Ghoul girl or the clone are in any danger. Besides… If they died then Victor would surely torture and end you. And then I will bring you back.” She says in a very matter-of-fact kind of way. Like it was just that simple.
“But… Why?” He sounded so confused. Why would she go so far for him? “Why would you risk yourself like that and bring me back?”
“I told you already… You possess a seed that I want to see realised. Within you is a spark, a possibility, for true freedom.” She says as she once more looked at him, but this time with a sincere and caring smile.
Jeremy felt weak just looking at her. This kindness… He didn’t deserve it. Even if she did admit that she was using him. She told him to use her right back. “But… He stripped me of the other aspects of DNA I could call upon for strength. Mystic Human, Aetheran. I’m left with Saiyan cells, I don’t even know if he left me with any potential for growth. He could have just fed me this amount of strength to shackle me at this level… What if I can’t grow?” Jeremy’s eyes pleaded for an answer. One he had previously feared asking.
And in full honesty, Maria found his concerns and fears very valid. Victor likely did untold things to hinder his previous host, to derail any hope of standing against him. But there was so much more to Jeremy than just what the Foundation thinks they spliced him with and more than Victor stripped from him. What's more, she thinks Victor is a complete fool to have left him alive in the first place. “I doubt that will be necessary. Even if the other avenues of strength have been demolished by that pest. I have given you a tool to help create a brand new one.” She says as she looks to his once vacant shoulder. Now filled by the new arm she had grafted to his body.
Jeremy did wonder what this thing was. He couldn’t remove the bandages that seamlessly connected to his torso, and every time he used it, picked things up, flexed his fingers, moved a muscle, he got a headache and his blank eye started to burn up. Even just lifting it and balling his fist now had his eye burning up behind the socket. So much so that he had to close it. “It hurts to even throw a punch with this thing…”
“Because you’re using brute force to get it to obey you. You lack some… Required traits to fully use that arm.” She answers as she watches him strain to keep his arm lifted.
Jeremy turns to her, keeping the bandaged arm up, as he looks to her with his one good eye. “What traits are those?”
“Well,” She starts as the world around them starts to distort and change. They were leaving the mundane world and travelling to another. The environment warped around a pin point and was sucked away into a void of black nothingness. Only for a new world to appear around them.
A vast and empty desert stretched out in all directions as they stood on a mountain plateau overlooking everything. The landscape of this place was littered with ruins, other mountains, sparse patches of greenery and even a distant oasis.
The bubble they were in dissolved, letting the rough and humid desert air hit them along with a stark increase in gravity that made Jeremy uncomfortable. It made him have to feel that burning sensation in his head all the more. Maria resumed talking. “For one, you aren’t a god. And two, you don’t have the knowledge required to use its benefits.”
Jeremy looked over to his teacher as she stepped out across the shady plateau with green lush plants growing in the shadow of the mountain peak. “What- A God? Wh-Who’s arm is this??”
She looked out across the harsh desert, as things started to emerge from the sands… Large worms and scorpion-like monsters, demonic fiends, Purira Trolls and Ogres, and many more beasts and creatures that were captured and brought here for sport. All for the sake of training for her newest project. “You should be familiar with him. He is the fallen Titan God of Knowledge. I assure you, he won’t be needing it.”
Jeremy looked to the arm attached to him and was dumbfounded. The arm of a Titan God was attached to his body? How was he alive? He didn’t think something like this was possible. How can divine flesh be connected to mortal flesh without there being a connection or a trail of some kind? “H… How?”
“What a broad question.” She mused with a smile on her face as she looked up to the twin suns looming overhead. The days in this world were long and excruciatingly warm. Wilhelm faced this place not too long ago. “It was stolen back and forth from organisations and groups of fanatics until it landed in the Foundation’s lap and they locked it away. And then it ended up in my possession.” She then turns to face him with a broad smile. “As for how you can even use it. You possessed two qualifications. You had the blood of Duncan, who would have become the chosen Apostle of Salem, flowing through your veins. And you had Forgotten Blood.”
“Had. Yes. I had them. But he took them. I can’t use the lost mask, the gates, Old magic, any of that.” Jeremy says as his body was adapting quickly used to the intense 20x gravity of this strange world.
His poor mind was so buffeted by this defeat, this horror he’s suffered. But he was right. Victor took any semblance of malleable power with him. Leaving Jeremy with KI, which was rather stiff in comparison to Old mana and Divine power. But it was capable of many things, she just had to get it to bend and shape in a way that was usable. “As I said. That arm will create a new path. All you need is a catalyst and a place for it to mature. That is why I brought you here, to this harsh and unforgiving place. Now. Sit.” She commands as she too sits down with her legs crossed. Jeremy sheepishly joins her soon after on the rocky, grassy, ground with his legs crossed. “Give me your arm. And when you do remember the sensation that comes after.”
Jeremy looked at her for a moment, looking in the face to see if there was any deception but he did place the new hand on her own. “Okay…”
“I said concentrate.”
“I am. But nothing’s happening.”
“No, I want you to be preemptive. So. Focus now.”
“... Okay?”
“Are you concentrating?”
“Are you?”
Maria and Jeremy look to one another as the Clone keeps giving sass brought on through pain. She understood that it was an involuntary coping mechanism but she didn’t care for it. “Screw it.” She announced as she sent a current of foreign energy through his arm. Jeremy can feel it, a sensation similar to feeling lightning coursing through his body that makes him clench his teeth and his muscles seize in agony. This foreign energy that feels like fire runs through his veins, awakening the strange runes underneath the bandages with a blackened hue and turning Jeremy’s blank eye into a Midnight colour.
The blank empty places of his dna filled with nothing but junk were being filled with this energy but not perfectly, like slamming an odd jigsaw piece into a different picture. It was whole but not correct.
Blood gushes through Jeremy’s clenched teeth as the burning black fights its way up his arm and draws more blood. The black burning scored his heart and something deeper as he started to scream through his teeth but he couldn’t let go. He couldn’t ask for it to stop. His other eye turns blue, a rush of gold aura engulfs him as power blasts through his nerves and up through the top of his head. It was too much.
It hurts.
IT HURTS.
ITHURTSITHURTSITHURTSITHURTSITHURTSITHURTSITHURTSITHURTSITHURTSITHURTSITHURTSITHURTSITHURTSITHURTSITHURTSITHURTSITHURTSITHU-
- - - - -
Everything was black. No matter what direction he peered out there was nothing. He couldn’t see anything. He couldn't do anything. Up was down, down was left, right was nowhere to be seen. Nothing was. No sound. No movement. Just. Nothing. But he was looking for something, even as he found he had no strength in his body.
How long had he been looking for something? Anything?
He couldn’t remember.
What was he looking for again?
...!
He could hear something. Out in that black nothingness. Noise in this vast nothing. Something faint, something small reaching out for something. He felt so numb. Maybe that's fine… Maybe he should rest…
Je…!
It’s getting louder. Such a faint voice… Voice? Whose voice? He just wants to sleep…
Jerem…!
It's louder again… It sounds like a girl's voice. It's familiar… But no… He didn’t want it to be familiar. She needed to stay away. Make it stop…
Jeremy!
Why is it so loud?? He just wants to sleep. He wants it to be over. Just let this nothingness take him! He doesn’t want to wake up again. He’ll be back there again! He didn’t want to go back there. Not with what waited for him! Stop. Please don’t make him go back!!
Jeremy… You can’t give up.
Who not?! Out there is hell! Everything he loved is either gone or twisted into sickening mockeries of themselves. Not even allowed to die! He wanted to just go. Let someone handle it… Someone stronger.
If you’re gone. Then we won’t be able to meet again. You promised.
Cass… Her voice was so loud in this nothingness. But her voice, while nostalgic, only filled his heart with guilt. Her short life was cut short by random chance. Yet he was tenacious enough to endlessly come back against her killer. It was Victor’s power that made it possible, but he was the one that steered it… He thinks… He… He didn’t anymore. How much of him was him and how much of him was Victor.
He wanted to keep that promise. But he had no soul… This nothing was all that awaited him in death.
You promised! Please Jeremy!
…
……
Please… I want you to be my brother again.
…?? Yeah. He wanted that too… He couldn’t make her cry.He couldn’t break his promise… Yeah… It was going to suck getting that far. If he clawed his way out of here, back into that hell, there was no guarantee that he’d get that far.
The sluggish feeling over his body began to fade, he could feel his limbs moving again. He started to march forward.
He’d have to fight for the right to have a soul.
The black nothingness was being pierced in the distance. An orange light, faint and small, was reaching out through the nothingness.
He didn’t need the approval of Purira’s gods… He didn’t need the approval of the Foundation… He didn’t need Victor’s f*cking say so!
The faint light grew brighter. In the darkness a small orange figure was visible, reaching out. He ran towards it.
F*ck the food chain. F*ck laws of nature. F*ck these limitations everyone sets on him!
He gained speed, running faster through the void, stretching an arm out eager to leave this horrid nothing behind and claw his way back to make his future real!
He’ll get his soul. He’ll grow and become a threat. He’ll forge a future all his own. F*ck anyone who would get in his way of seeing his sister again. He didn’t care what forces he needed to face, whose wrath he needed to incur, whose future he had to stomp out or plans he had to interfere with to make them happen… He was going to reach the future he wanted!!
Jeremy reached out and grabbed the small orange hand and-
- - - - -
“Finally awake huh?” Maria asked from a distance, closer to the edge of the plateau, watching over her young pupil with curious eyes as he opened them once again. “You were out for hours. I was worried you’d never wake up. Worse, that I gave you a fate worse than death.”
Jeremy was looking up into a sky or dark swirling colours, different to its vibrant colours from before. His breath was visible in the air, he felt cold… How long had he been out? Was anything he just experienced… Real? “What did you do to me?”
“Nothing much.” His teacher answered with a shrug. “I fed you some power to get that arm working. I wanted to see if you could cultivate that power through the arm… But that didn’t happen.” She answers dryly as she sat with her legs crossed and head in her hands as she studied him. But the curiosity in her voice was more apparent than before. “Instead something else happened…”
Jeremy groaned, his head felt light yet still burning… He raised his hand to his face, expecting to see bandages. But he quickly noticed a lack of bandages. Looking at his arm, it was… Just that. An arm. No markings, no bandages. Nothing special. “Wah? Huh? Where did the bandages go?”
“If you want to be technical there were never any bandages. They were just flesh to the one they belonged to… How odd… You have a soul…” Maria said so nonchalantly. Leaving her pupil to look at her like she had grown a second head.
“H-Hah. Hahaha, what?” He couldn't help but laugh at that. Whether it was nerves or just because it sounded so outlandish. “What do you mean?”
“I mean you have a real soul now… And I didn’t give it to you.” She sounded almost unhappy about that but the loud undertones of wonder overpowered any anger she had in her voice. “I honestly didn’t see this happening. I was trying to get you to cultivate the power I was feeding you… But this is new… You really are like the person you were clones after. I suppose even Victor couldn’t steal the unique luck and audacity you seem to command.”
“H-Hah… Haha… No kidding?” He says as he places his hand tentatively over his heart. He has no idea- Wait. That small orange light shaped like a person. Was that… Cass? No. Where the hell would she get to the right to give him a soul. It can’t be hers. She wouldn’t be able to see him again if she did that. Or… Or could she? Can you ask a reaper to do that kind of thing? No wait she died… Uh… Ugh, maybe a god? What god would agree to that though. This was just too bizarre. “Was I supposed to have visions?”
“Visions…? Of what?” She sounded taken aback. She kept sounding more and more surprised. This must be a rare time for her, the glimmer in her eyes was dazzling yet looking alittle unhinged to him. He better not keep her waiting.
And so he began to explain the odd vision he experienced while stirring in the depths of that black nothingness. And Maria seemed to be hooked on every word.
- - - - -
The twin suns hang high in the sky of this imposing desert, plumes of sand and resonating shockwaves dance across the surface of the boundless horizon while Maria is sitting on a rock at the same plateau as before. She looked out at the rising clouds of sand and booms of sound in the distance.
Out in the distance was Jeremy. The source of those clouds. Fighting through demonic fiends and other grim beasts of supernatural backgrounds while she silently pondered all he told her.
She did not wrestle Cassidy Boom’s soul from the clutches of Afterlife. How could she? She could wage small-scale skirmishes against Reapers, make deals and offer trades to gain more time or outright bargain for the continued life of souls she had interest in. But that was only upon their death, she could only interfere before or in that limbo between life and death. No after…
Yet Jeremy swore the voice of Cassidy called to him through the ether and called him back to life… It sounded like he was dying. Which did corroborate with what she was seeing. The feedback from the arm was killing him, she underestimated the remains of the original flesh the Fallen god weaved to step into the material plane the first time. A grave miscalculation… Yet it would appear that it came with an unseen detail. Perhaps the arm acted as some sort of conduit to allow Jeremy and his sister to converse once again… And perhaps…
Her mind wandered as bolts of golden ki coloured the sky. Another unexpected wrinkle. She had many observations of the Foundation’s Saiyan’s and their transformed form. This ‘Super Saiyan’ as they called it. An impressive power multiplier that increases incrementally, similar in nature to many such techniques and even Supernatural Shifts that exist natively on Immensus. Power takes many familiar forms out in the wider universe it would seem. Jeremy was far from the obvious requirements of using Super Saiyan. His body was not strong enough to handle the incredible stress of the power increase the transformation offers. Yet he entered a sort of demi-state where his power increases only 5x with the same golden aura… What’s more, it is stable.
His classification of G7 was only there because of the power pushed upon him by Victor after his revival. A move Jeremy has wrestled every day since he fled the sector. This Demi-state transformation now pushed him over the starting line of S-class. And it was seemingly all his own, a crystallisation of will instead of power. That was what she observed… This new state was down to the soul that now existed within him. A powerful catalyst for a dream he wanted to achieve.
“Vengeful Spear!” BOOM.
A large plume of sand erupted closer to the mountain, catching her attention. She could feel it in the air. Ki and something else mixed in. There were so many questions, theories, all tearing through her mind as she watched Jeremy. As Ki weaves through the air around him as he uses the very arts she used against him on their first meeting. She marvelled at this growth… He was innately able to latch, replicate and use techniques that would have taken months, years to master…
“Hah… I’ll give the Foundation one thing. They chose an excellent source to pull from. This Clone of Heimrich is outlandishly gifted. Or just outlandishly lucky… Both Heimrich and his clone both survived Victor.” But only one had beaten him. Given time perhaps the other will follow the original in gaining a path to ridding himself of the monster that haunts him.
This wasn’t the way she expected her project to go… But what was life without a little chaos?
“I’ll keep him here for a few days. Let him get used to the new soul in his chest… Perhaps meeting his own clone will make things interesting. Oooh… An unexpected avenue to annoy that beast appears. Heimrich… Learning of his continued existence inside of Foli… That should be interesting~” The plotting and scheming, weighing the pros and cons of such things against each other continues as the teacher watches over her pupil as he continues to fight, emboldened by the new source of life burning in his chest. A renewed sense of purpose drumming in his heart. Will it see him through the grim future to come? Will a chance encounter with his source material bring about another change? Who can say. The future is still unfolding. Who’s to say if the clone and the original will ever meet.
I'm sure you have a reason Cassidy's soul appeared to Jeremy and merged with him, but in case you don't, Ztu takes great care to those who face injustice or those who can rise to fight such things. He would have no problem letting an angel escort her soul back to Jeremy to save his life.
He's had his hand on the trigger for a while in case mortal champions cannot handle the threats to the sector, like Vengeance, Viviana, the Spider, etc. But so far they have, and he hasn't had to step in. And while grafting Enochian bits on a mortal is pretty fuggin blasphemous, he'll deal with that in a different way.
It's Wabs, this will be something for much later.
Oh it wasn't Cass at the very end. He no doubt believes the little orange figure was Cass. But it was important that Jeremy think that it was Cass. It was important for the figure that he believed too.
Besides Jeremy said it himself. It would defeat the point or their promise for Cass to give him her soul. They couldn't hope of meeting again if she sacrificed that chance to do that.
Hmmmmm.
Very Hmm. I have no doubt you'll figure out what hijinx are being pulled here.
*X-Ray of brain shows dead mouse next to a wheel on fire*
Mhm yep.
Samantha was still on the fence about not getting involved but she didn't possess the power to wade in to this... She'd be more upset about that if this wasn't already a trend she was grudgingly getting used to. She feel the combined fear coming from the Transformed version of her brother, and feel the power from the source of those chains. She kept the crystal barrier raised as she looked back to Scotti and Tobbi. It did feel like they were suddenly out of their depth.
The source of the chains was a large black metal lantern lit with a hollow red flame. Kirk got the feeling that his musings on the origin of these chains was right. The question was, were they placed maliciously or with purpose? Given that he's survived this long... The latter seemed like the better answer. It seemed that the Old Spirit had been bonded with Felix seeing as it freely influenced this transformation into being assumed, likely transforming parts of his body that became affected by the decay by shifting it into stronger and stronger mass. Using what it could to heal the damage with its ramshackle forced understanding of Aura while also holding back the full might of this cursed attack... One that seemed to get stronger over time. Even Now Kirk could feel a faint increase. Meaning these chains were not as strong in the beginning. Only giving more evidence to the fact that this was done with the purpose of guiding the spirit to bond and empower the charge he was bound to.
As Kirk started to walk towards the dragon wrapped around the old guild hall it snarled in way that rumbled the world around them, yet it gave ground. The Dragon stopped holding onto the building as he slightly retreated behind the Guild hall. No doubt to place it between them and Kirk as more fire started to billow between its car sized teeth. All done to try and intimidate, to try and ward him off of getting closer. How could it trust a destroyer, even one that had a broken master. Of course it felt pressed, panicking, it was pouring more old magic that it had stockpiled into the chains to try and destroy them and end at least that threat. It was effectively now fighting two powers at once after contending continuously with just one.
POV: Me trying to correctly write Wabachan character names
POV: Me trying to find the motivation to work on my factbooks and developing stuff here like I used to
Just write in the factbook 4head
Sword would be a bit difficult to put an edge on at the levels of density we are talking about.
Good ol hammer or blunt force polearm would be better. Put that density to work directly!
Enkara: But I want a sword.
It was going to keep retreating, while the chains keep eating away at him. It did not escape his notice that the chains around the boy's souls are growing stronger. It has been only a couple weeks since Felix lost his arm, a tragedy that he has refused to share with anyone. And in that time he has been rapidly consumed by the Old Spirit's influence in a naive attempt to protect its host. But the levels it will have to go will erase Felix's sense of self. No man alive could keep his identity under the constant pressure from an Old Spirit. A Forgotten wouldn't care, after all the Old Spirit would reach its limits eventually, and chains like this are designed to continuously feed off the user. They will always be stronger, and will one day dominate the one trapped within them. There would be no other way for them to overpower the Lost. No matter how "slow" the chains are progressing, it is Salem's magic. And the Forgotten can never be trusted. Kirk has to bet on whether he can trust the Spirit that was forced inside Felix, or if it too is part of a Forgotten scheme.
When the dragon retreats behind the Guild he does not follow. Instead he asks it a question, and gives it a chance to do the right thing. "Great Spirit of Life, who was it that put you in chains? Who trapped you inside Felix? All I want is to free the boy from his suffering. If you truly want the same, then we are not enemies."
30 minutes later
"Another barrage."
"Aye Warlord. Sign of Twilight, initiate bombardment."
Rath watches as the shields protecting the robotic forces within the mountain valley ripple and struggle against the judgment raining down upon it, but as the Sign of Twilight passes over the valley and joins its sister cruiser, the shields still hold. "Anything more sir and the shields will fail, however if we give them more time to bolster them it will take far more than a pair of cruisers," One of his science officers scanning the shields announces.
"I do not want them wiped off the map. This is a new foe, one that we cannot understand with just the cyborgs the marines are pulling out of that facility," Rath growls as he stomps away from the viewscreen and to his battlements, a 3d generated field containing the armies on the ground and the mountains separating them. "What does the enemy number?"
"From what we can register as unique forms, 50k infantry, 10.3k assorted vehicles, accuracy at 98 percent."
"That outnumbers our's and Synnadine's combined forces by a factor of nine. You have a lot of faith in this new toy of yours, doctor." Rath growls his displeasure at the thin and dark haired Wabachan standing a little ways behind him, who adjusts his spectacles with a smile.
"Do not worry, Warlord. My 'new toys would be able to handle this little threat by itself if need be. However I know the military has been... Restless, with the lack of action."
That earns a hefty huff out of the reptilian hulk. "I'm not even Wabachan and I can feel it. Our time is coming, where we must be ready for war. Against who or what, who cares. My blood boils for a fight. Your toy better give us a good show."
"Not to worry, my scaly friend. He will."
____________________
With the rear base secured and Thons and the aiding Synnadinean Marines evacuating the Athailian survivors, the Warsept begins to move. With the Assault Crawler at its heart, using its secondary set of shields to protect itself and the main army within it, they are the distraction scattered squads need to avoid potential scouts and CAS as they work their way into the mountains, probing the way forward under space surveillance. Recon Squads, both Synnadinean and Wabachan, push forward, seeing the wall of the shields as the second bombardment takes place. The Wabachan Squad remains well hidden, as their OVCD armor camouflages to the grassy and snowy rocks of the mountains. Invisible besides their tags revealing them to the Synnadine commando squad they were operating with, they wait in their cover as the particle beams splash down on the shields.
Gara-4 whistles as the bombardment ends and peace returns once more to the little crag they currently are in. <[Not much could withstand particle weapons of that magnitude.]> He remarks over the local comwave that they and the Synnadine commando squad are sharing.
<[Which may work out for us,]> Gara-2 responds, about ten feet ahead of him. <[Particle shielding is weak to slow moving objects. We may be able to move straight through it.]>
<[We're moving, two minutes until the shield wall.]> Gara-1, the no-nonsense squad lead and most senior member of this particular commando unit, informs both his squad and the Synnadineans before moving forward. The OVCD commandos are dead silent, even in armor, their advanced training beyond standard recon training has transformed every member into a wraith as they close in on their shimmering goal.
If y’all are wondering where John/Richard is. He’s playing MechWarrior 5: Mercenaries of all things.
Impossible.
That's illegal
How dare you out me
Ur mom
You're illegal
https://i.imgur.com/gzlenKP.jpg
Had I checked in sooner I would have outted you as well. Considering you've been playing that for at least 3 days now from what I could see on the Game Bar.
Just realized I could do a militant course on training the UKZ military in the intricacies of mech warfare. That would be neat.
Tag:Lore
Shortly after the end of the Zoconian Civil War Wabacha's recovery and rescue teams landed on the beleaguered island to provide aide and assist in the rebuilding effort. The Wabachan military command was just ad swift in preparing what was left of the armies for modernization and restructuring to make due with the loss of nearly all of the pre-war fighting forces. The human and orc tribes that aided the Loyalists in the last months of the war accepted this readily, especially with the support and bridge that was Sept Marshal Vargas, a Hobgoblin native of Zocom. This early after the war the dwarf, goblin, elf, and beastmen tribes were still warming up to the idea of foreign aide both civilian and military, but by the time of the announcement of the UKZ to the world fully accepted Wabachan aide in fighting off the Templar menace. In many villages and towns the natives and Wabachans were already fighting side by side against Templars and Forgotten, aided by mysterious commandos that appear to fight the higher tier Forgotten and after slaying them disappear without a trace. While the new war seems dire, not everything can be devoted to the front. Many of the war machines that were built before and during the Civil War are destroyed or corrupted by revenants, there are still a few sighted in the deep wilds of Zocom eluding termination. The next generation of mechanized warriors will have to be trained on new equipment still in the Wabachan thinktanks and factories. The old Havoks that Zocom fielded are well behind the mainland arms race. And while some can find new life in training courses, the next generation of UKZ mech pilots will have to learn from scratch. Luckily, they are under the protection of the masters of mech warfare.
Nearly a hundred prospects were hand picked out of the human and orcish hobgoblin tribes, and later a few elves who leaned more towards technology than their nature roots, anyone with the aptitude and the standard human body plan who could fit in a cockpit without limiting their access to the controls. Other tribes were more freely recruited for engineering and control room training, especially from the goblin and dwarf tribes. All of them are shipped out to Wabacha's end of the Gannon mountain range, where training facilities are buried deep underground and safe from threats and probes. They are organized and split between their new designations as the Zocom's 1st Mech Orsept, broken down into its four tactical companies, its destroyer company, its scout company, and tactical reserve compantmy. Each company has its own classroom and training bay. Each company is further broken down into its squads, the tactical companies containing three squads numbering four mechs each, plus the Company Captain. The Captains of each company have not yet been chosen, neither have the squads been designated or their leaders. That designation process is still in the works, as each company member is tested and monitored to decide which position and which pilots they will work best with. Team performance optimization is only second to individual piloting ability. Every recruit is pushed to their limits in learning and piloting as they absorb written and visual information on operating basic mech systems and operation, and practice in isolated cockpit simulations controls and maneuverability.
After a grueling week and a half of hitting the books and simulations, the 4th Tactical company returns to their classroom after lunch and their final knowledge exam, prepared to meet their next teacher, with butterflies in their stomachs and excitement in their hearts. Because with this next teacher comes applying what they've learned with a real mech.
«12. . .6,8196,8206,8216,8226,8236,8246,825. . .6,8746,875»
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