It was a confidence reserved for the foolhardy and the rational. The drop may have been into sewer water, but the drop itself wasn’t that deep, and none of this would carry over into real life anyways. No pressure, and no problem. With an acrobat’s grace and poise, Ari slipped into the sewers, the residents above her none the wiser.

The smell within the cramped tunnel was of old earth and stone, mold and refuse, tickling her nostrils as she took her bearings. No light shone within; the darkness threatened to swallow her whole if she continued to go down it. The sounds that she heard, however, were rich and many. The flowing of water, the splatting of falling objects, the skittering of insects, the squealing of vermin. She could feel it too, the rushing of air, the hollow echoes of a sewer system that perhaps covered the entirety of Nyu-Taro. And with the wind, carried voices. Human, perhaps. Barely audible, bright notes of laughter bouncing off the old stone walls.

There was a connection, perhaps, amongst the claustrophobic tunnels of the sewers to the den of the Tsi-Lai Gang. But to do so, Ari would have to brave these dark depths alone, blind.

Would she?
[sub][@Greengoat][/sub][hr]
[b]“It is a pleasure to receive your devotion then, Lugh Dysphoria. I am Shirin Bihe, a worshipper and an ordinary woman.”[/b] The blue-haired priestess bowed her head once more, her eyes only widening slightly at the curious question he posed. After a couple moments of careful contemplation, she spoke up again. [b]“You Immortals do have some interesting concerns, don’t you? Monsters are not judged by how closely they resemble humankind, but rather whether or not they are capable of the same intellectual processes granted onto us. I cannot speak in place of a deity, but many congregations around Horogi are welcoming of the monstrous devoted. And let it not be left unsaid, that our own Fair Lady oft descends upon this world as a pale scaled serpent.”[/b]

With the former warrior seemingly satisfied, Shirin turned to head into the Shin-Yu Temple, taking off her sandals as she stepped up into the building. The interior of the temple smelled of a bright, almost citrus-y aroma, and the polished wood that formed the supporting pillars of the structure was bright yellow, reflecting well the sunlight that diffused from the paper windows. Nightingale floorboards creaked melodically under foot as they moved down the hallway, passing by several rooms filled with chanting adherents. They arrived, finally, at an open-air chamber, the floor transitioning into veinless marble. In the back of the chamber stood the weather-worn statue of a lithe woman. Though a seamless, indisctinct beauty from waist-up, her lower body flowed sinuously into the marbled ground in the image, perhaps, of a flowing river, a twisted tree, a snake’s tail.

Even in perpetual stillness, she embodied motion, an incarnation of the eternal wind and waves.

[b]“Kneel before her,”[/b] Shirin instructed, her voice distant in Lugh’s ears even though she stood beside him. There was something different about this room, something consecrated and sacred. [b]“Your tutelage begins when you close your eyes.”[/b]

And when he did, lightning scored the synapse of his virtual brain, painfully beautiful.

The dynamics of the spring wind, the ceaseless flow of the mountain streams, the transitioning of all states, like the shimmering of light upon scales so pure, yet containing such myriad of colors within! Was it not invisible light, that transitioned into the shades of color that one’s eyes could glean afterwards? Was it not a millennia of bloodbirth that brought him where he was now? The world was formed of such precious, unseen blessings, each insignificant slice placed together to form a tapestry beyond compare, too large to ever fully appreciate, but awe-inspiring all the same. To eschew from such a cycle was sacrilege. To desire ascendance was mortal ignorance. They were all of the dust of deities, every one of them placed to fulfil their heart’s purpose. Obligations and restraint, duty and law, all the ignorance of man, extolling virtues that turned one’s gaze away from the Lady of the Alabaster Scales.

In one’s freedom, one could truly become themselves, shedding their faults like old skins, transitioning from one form to another like the world around them. Pursue your desires. Walk your own path. Make a mark upon this world, and grant that same courage to others as repressed as you once were.

[b]“Nan seira to men. [i]As the Serpent wills.[/i]”[/b]

When Lugh opened his eyes once more, was he still the same?
[sub][@Cu Chulainn][/sub][hr]
The impact didn’t even phase her.

Even as [b]57 points of damage[/b] tore a chunk into her HP bar, even as her arms felt like someone whipped them with a yard stick, even as a shockwave burst out the other side of her arms, Magpie didn’t move an inch. She was stalwart now, and everything, no matter how brutalized her health points were, was lightweight. And in the position of a flying kick, the frogman had no way to stop what was going to happen next.

The spectral crowds went apeshit as Magpie locked onto the frogman’s arm, slamming him into the waters below. Salty froth burst upwards at the terrific impact, but the frogman protected his own vitals with his arms, transitioning into a handstand. Magpie’s strength wasn’t enough to control his body, but the frogman himself couldn’t bypass the supernatural abilities granted to her by her Nuclei. They were at a standstill, locked in place by incompatible capabilities.

Then, the frogman’s second foot began to glow, a controlled phenomenon that crackled with mystical energies potent enough to send Raime flying even on an indirect hit. If Magpie ceded ground here, she would be out of her Territory, and the frogman would be free to move as he pleased. But if she received such an attack at point blank range…could she even survive that?

Thankfully, good mental changed lives. Just sometimes, it wasn’t your own.

Charging tenaciously towards the frogman, Klein’s agility afforded him a realm of speed that was only human. Even as he saw the webbed foot glow, even as he saw the leg coil back like the hammer of a gun, he couldn’t stop now. It was always all-in, and within the party, he was the only Immortal that was truly undying! Practically skidding on the sandstone dance floor of Magpie’s Territory, the barbaric beefcake slammed his spear as deep into the frogman as he could, before the empowered kick lashed out, inadvertently kicking him in the jaw.

All that energy burst out, not at Magpie, but at Klein instead, a thunderous boom pushing against the charging Ames before a two meter tall, musclebound man of a man flew fifty meters straight up into the air, his form first a silhouette against the sun.
And then, he was a second light in the sky, wreathed once more in brilliant flame, the vengeful spirit that cloaked him granting the Immortal a full 120 HP to shield himself with as he flew down towards the earth.

The frogman chortled, the skin of his jaw expanding outwards into a bemused, or perhaps [i]impressed[/i] ribbit. Another Magic Bolt slammed into his body, scoring another mark as Amulak continued to fire away, consistently dealing damage at a safe distance. The impact of this strike, however, was the extra accelerant the frogman needed. Slime secreted from his pores once more as he slipped out of Magpie’s grasp, springing into a full handstand. It was an unstable position still, and the opening that Ames was looking for. The red-haired warrior’s collaborations had been on-point so far, and with fist clenched, he leapt in once more, system-guided movements kicking to go for a low kick on the frogman’s arm.

It was an optimal move. It was also a predictable move.

As Ames moved close, the frogman’s legs swung down, catching him on the shoulders before crossing behind him. With a feat of nigh-impossible physical ability, the warrior was dragged off his feet, his face slammed into the hard stone and buried under the salty water as the frogman formed a bridge with his body. The sudden turnaround [b]dealt 31 damage[/b] to Ames, but it was what was coming after that boded worse for him.

Klein, aflame, spear-wielding, and absolutely massive, was falling straight down, after all.

Straight down, from above Ames.

...

Though it was an odd sensation, chewing on something with just your bloodied gums, once again, the pain that terrorized Raime's mind dissipated, leaving only a strange sensation of 'stuffiness'. The scout could rise up again, and he could see again. But after all this pain, was it even worth it to keep going? The tranquility he felt back in Mei Rei Tan seemed like a whole other game, a whole other world, compared to the chaotic, bloody affair before him.

What even drove him on at this point, to shatter his psyche over and over again in the face of such incredible pain?
[sub][@Searat][@Psyker Landshark][@Yankee][@OwO][@Shovel][/sub]