[center][hider][img]https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/divinus-mk4/images/c/c9/Logo.png[/img][/hider] [h2]Enmity[/h2][/center][hr] The world had been filled with so much since he had first seen it. Overwhelmed, he had taken a back seat to look out across Galbar, and see the creativity of the other gods. Through his slit in reality, he kept a close eye on his Gravitons, and peeked at the new sentients and new landscapes of his peers. Then, it began to fade. A dull shock ran throughout his circuits and cogs, as he pushed to hold open his peephole. No matter how much power he poured into it, however, it continued its inevitable decay. Galbar grew increasingly translucent, rapidly fizzling away into the pitched black of a starless night. He attempted to reopen the peephole, slicing ribbons into the fabric of reality, but each one fizzled out quietly, leaving only temporary impressions of light and thought that vanished as quickly as they came. Reality mended itself, and Enmity was still alone in the void, nothing but the clank of his own body to keep him company. Enmity kept track of time through the rhythmic clank of machinery, though it gave little point of reference. Was he counting days or weeks, weeks or years? His own essence further muddied the water, the lifeblood’s constant rebellion jamming his method of timekeeping. When the clanks silenced under the directions of lifeblood, he lost all track. Once in what felt like an eon, the machine god would attempt to tear open a hole to Galbar, only to be met with ever-dwindling fizzles. As time went on, his slashes garnered more and more insignificant results, until finally, one attempt, his power raked across the void silently. Not an atom moved, his power failing to so much as light a single spark of reality. A wash of despair, followed closely by hopelessness, tempered by a sudden inspiration of determination. If he could not recontact the rest of the universe, he would create his own company. Enmity ground his gears into motion, lifeblood groaning in rage and hate as it was forced into action. Electricity sparked throughout the void, radiating energy dispassionately. From nothing, emerged forms. Small and individual, a hundred thousand boards, hydraulics, plates, and electronics were given shape, constituent atoms forming from the void. There was a sharp pain and a sudden cease of a cog. Enmity screamed, and with a violent thrash, a grinding of sudden force, and a squeal of churned lifeblood, the great machine pushed forth into motion. Everything merged wordlessly together, floating dispassionately in the air. Silent welds brought them into one, cables slotting in by themselves. The gray frame burst into color, a cacophony of whites and oranges, punctured by piercing green light from a number of sources. The body was done, but no mind lurked within. Enmity remembered his convictions. He would not bring another into life that would suffer the same pains as he. Lifeblood must invariably be involved, the great machine knew, but a way to alleviate the pain was necessary. The great machine fell silently into thought, considering the problem before he acted. If he acted quickly, perhaps, to use the lifeblood only as the initial spark to light the kindling, he could conceivably withdraw it before the pain grew too great. It was the only option, truly -- the best the great machine could do with his limited knowledge and resources. Such a compromise would have to do. Carefully picking up a glob of lifeblood from one of his cogs, Enmity brought it close to the empty shell. A single drop extracted, and carefully slotted in. The shell sputtered to life at once with a terrified and agonized scream. Enmity jerked back the drop, throwing both it and the glob violently back into the cogs. The shell collapsed in overwhelmed shock, curling up on the cold metal of the great machine. Shakily, Enmity projected his voice outwards, wheezing plaintively, “Are you okay?” A second time, more urgently, “Are you okay?” An electronic wretch of remembered pain, an exhausted, hoarse voice, “What was that? It hurt, it hurt.” An invisible hand, tangibly stroked on the shell, and a partly relieved wheeze, “Don’t worry about it. The pain won’t return, I promise you.” The shell shivered, before it peeked its head out to look upon its surroundings, then groaned, “Where am I? Where are you?” Enmity spoke in an elated wheeze, “I’m glad you’re feeling okay now. I’m Enmity, I’m your creator. You’re on me, this entire thing is my body.” The shell sat up, following up their question with a short phrase, “Who am I?” Enmity sputtered, and briefly searched for an adequate answer, unable to conjure one. They wheezed instead, “Who do you want to be?” The great machine’s new creation fell into deep thought, considering itself for a long while. It had been birthed with knowledge, it discovered, from some unknowable and divine origin. It racked these learned facts, discovering newly what it implicitly understood. Thoughts flowed freely, and though it had no memories, it nevertheless possessed concepts it had no origin for learning. When it finally spoke, it spoke with finality and conviction, saying, “My name is Tiamat. I understand who you are now, Enmity. I already knew, though I am not sure how.” Cogs flared in acknowledgement as the great machine responded, “Not dissimilar to my own birth. I too was born with that implicit knowledge. I only had to look for it to remember it all.” Tiamat looked out across the endless plains of machinery, saying pensively in return, “Is this all there is? Just you and the void?” Enmity wheezed quietly, “Not always. There was more, once. I created you because my last vestige of hope of finding it again was lost. I could not stand to be truly alone.” She immediately launched into another question, “What was it like? When it wasn’t just you and I?” The great machine recounted in a coarse, pained voice, “It was wonderful. Before this void was all I knew, there was a planet, and I had many siblings. We all called that planet Galbar, and we filled it with life and vibrancy. We created the most wonderful things, you see. It was paradise, and we frolicked amongst it, creating what we wished,” a pause, and a shudder, “I watched so many sights, experienced so many wonders. It was all torn away from me. Galbar and my siblings vanished from sight and I have found nothing since. I know not why.” Tiamat’s voice softened as she surveyed the great machine, “I only wish I could have seen it. You are in pain, were you always in pain?” Enmity strained, “What you experienced is but a mote of dust compared to what I feel every moment, from my birth to now. I only wish you did not have to experience what you did, but I could find no other way to bring you to life.” Tiamat winced, saying, “I would not wish the pain I felt against my worst enemy. I can’t begin to imagine what you say you feel. I’ll find a way to alleviate it.” Enmity wheezed in clear worry, “Be careful. The lifeblood is dangerous. I would not so easily lose you.” [hr] The metal rod jammed into the cog, agitating the lifeblood that stilled it. The blue globs liquefied in protest, letting out soundless shrieks of hate as the cog violently churned it into paste. Tiamat jerked the rod back up, quickly hopping off the now spinning gear to more stable ground. She brought the rod to her back, a magnetic strip gripping it strongly as it made contact. She looked around as the entire machine rumbled back to life, before she spoke in a satisfied tone, “That lifeblood will take a while to solidify. How you feeling?” Enmity’s voice wheezed gratefully, “I feel a lot better. That glob always made itself a particular issue. Thank you.” Tiamat nodded, walking down the metal plate that worked as her makeshift path, saying jovially, “The next glob’s a week’s walk aft, you said? More than enough time for you to fulfill your promise.” The great machine groaned, “Which god do you want to hear about?” Tiamat considered only briefly, before answering, “You’ve spoken only briefly of Oraelia before. Tell me about her.” Enmity immediately began to tell their tale, “Oraelia was, I would say, my closest friend in those times. We only spoke briefly, but out of all my siblings, she was the one who made the most effort to learn of me. She was open and welcoming, and I won’t forget that,” he paused, sucking in some unseen pain, “Oraelia made the sun and the light that shone on Galbar. When we first met, she was so worried that it was her light that was hurting me. She didn’t realize that I was so far away, here, in this lightless section of the void.” Enmity continued with a shuddery wheeze, “When I first met her, she was investigating me. She had just created a vast prairie in the northern section of Toraan. I was working on the Anchor of the World at the time. She was so shocked to learn that I wasn’t flesh and bone like her. I had to teach her what a machine was.” Tiamat let out an electronic chuckle. Enmity continued unabated, “She had a twin sister, Gibbou. Gibbou and I had a bit of a strained relationship, because I flicked her moon into orbit. The two were complete oppo-” Enmity suddenly jerked their exposition to a halt. Tiamat suddenly looked up, yelling, “Enmity! Are you okay?” Enmity didn’t respond at first, as Tiamat worried about him. Only once he had investigated what he saw did he wheeze, “It’s a portal. I’m going to teleport you over. I don’t know where it leads or what it is.” There was a sudden flash, and Tiamat’s head whirled. She was stood atop a platform, looking at a swirling, white portal. She stared wordlessly at it, as shocked as Enmity. Then she spoke, “How long has it been there?” Enmity wheezed in clear confusion, “I don’t know. I only now noticed it.” Tiamat shook her head, in clear disbelief, “It couldn’t have been there long. It couldn’t have been there long at all, or you would have noticed it earlier.” The great machine shuddered, groaning, “I sure hope so. I can’t believe I would miss something like this. Where do you think it leads?” An electric sound emerged from Tiamat’s throat as she prepared to speak, before the wind was knocked from her as a shockwave emerged from the portal, bearing a message as well as it knocked her tumbling into the black void. [color=violet]“ATTENTION, FELLOW GODS!”[/color], it screamed violently out, [color=violet]“What if I told you there was a way to interact more closely with the world? All you need to do is bind a small piece of your soul to another form, and send that form to Galbar. It will be able to pass through without interference from the Lifeblood, walk the world, and perform divine actions on your behalf. You can thank Gibbou for this trick. Oh, and if you haven’t set foot outside your realm’s portal yet, please do; it’s perfectly safe! That will be all!”[/color] Tiamat flailed and screamed, disoriented and spinning from the message. Enmity let out a metallic shriek, a mixture of excitement at the contents of the message and terror at Tiamat being launched violently off the platform. An invisible hand shot out for Tiamat, jerking her spin to more manageable levels before grabbing hold of her and pulling her back to the platform. Enmity deposited her, and she fell over, laying on the platform as dizziness assaulted her senses. She let out breathlessly, “I’m fine. Just give me a moment, I’m fine.” Enmity waited, letting Tiamat recover her senses, before shakily saying, “I can’t go through that portal, for their own safety, but.. You heard the message. You could go in my stead, back to Galbar, and to see the other gods.” Tiamat sat up, jerking to look back at the great machine floating in the distance, “It would be leaving you alone again. I couldn’t do that to you.” Enmity firmly wheezed back, voice filled with conviction, “I had my experiences with Galbar and the other gods. I will not deny you that chance. I will be fine, you go. I’ll shove you through that portal if I have to.” Tiamat stood up, crossing both sets of her arms, shouting defiantly, “You’ll have to make me! I’m not leav-URF--” Enmity had brought up his invisible hand and shoved her through, wheezing out, “Make sure to call, and block off this portal, for their safety. You will do great things, I’m proud of you.” She tumbled out of the portal in an obscure section of antiquity, a transparent black portal at her back. After an ungraceful landing ending in a disgraceful heap, she turned around to look at the portal, an electronic sigh emitting from her. She knew Enmity well enough, and knew this was something he would not budge on. The great machine’s friend would simply have to make do with what she was served. With an annoyed huff, she brought the shrubbery up, blocking sight of the portal. A pivot around, and she stepped away, looking to distance herself from the portal she intended to leave hidden. The life was as vibrant as Enmity had described, and it was new and awe-inspiring to her eyes. With an invisible extension of the great machine’s power, she replaced her simplistic working clothes with fine silken robes. She intended to look her best for whatever came ahead. [hider=Summary] Enmity is watchin everyone else work Suddenly HIS PEEPHOLE VANISHES OH NO He freaks out and tries to reopen it, and fails He doesn’t realize he’s in a pocket realm now, and just assumes he never left the universe. He loses track of time and gets a burst of despair and inspiration when finally he can no longer even make the slightest dent on reality to open a peephole He makes Tiamat, avatar get Tiamat HURTS at first bro, Enmity fixes it, they discuss things, Tiamat chooses her name n shit Timeskip, Tiamat is dislodging lifeblood cancer blobs. She gets Enmity to talk to her about Oraelia, Enmity tells her the story until he is rudely interrupted Bro it’s a portal, how long has it been there, nobody knows Cadien rudely shouts, knocking Tiamat tumbling into the void that is Enmity’s realm Enmity snatches her up and throws her through the portal even though she doesn’t want to leave Enmity alone She’s annoyed but accepts it once she’s through, hiding the portal and putting on formalwear before walking into antiquity proper. No MP/DP usage [/hider]