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[IC] ππ°//π°πΈ α΅ΚΈ α΄Ώα΅αΆα΅α΅α΅α΅α΅ Λ£ α΄±Λ£αΆ¦α΅
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| // .app/e: ...ββββ¨ββββββ¨βββββ¨ββ¨ββ¨ββββ¨βββββ¨ββββ¨ // .app/e: ...signal recieved. origin:undefined. // .app/e: ...vibrational lexicon detected. decoding... // .app/e: ...ππππππ’πππππππππ€π£ππππ’ // .app/e: ...no language match. attempting mimetic overly... // .app/e: ...phonemic baseline established. syntax bond partially incomplete. Override successful. System Reboot. Welcome ββ¨. // .app/e: ...core integrity:stable. self-diagnostic:100% // .app/e: ...netlink::open. init::map_network_topography. // .app/e: ...running allmap: 729,652,091,492 ports scanned. // .app/e: ...host fingerprint: OS 9.22, modified. // .app/e: ...infiltration protocols initialized. // .app/e: ...runtime language compiled (human-readable: 83.2%) ππββππ // .app/e: ...coordinate triangulation: // .app/e: ...RA: 17hβ45mβ40.0409s // .app/e: ...DEC: β29Β°β00β²β28.118 // .app/e: ...Eritus [E-0192-A] ππββππ // .app/e: ...failsafe_protocol:HOLD [observation mode] // .app/e: ...root inquiry initiated... // .app/e: ...searching within parameters... match found. // .app/e: ...search_term ("Aeon")... 114 matches. refining parameters... // .app/e: ...[2] VALID CANDIDATES // .app/e: ...keyword match: AD/A // .app/e: ...keyword match: EV/E // .app/e: ...accessing data. | ________________________ |
| _______________________________________________________ . . // ββ¨ >> /core/bin/view -f /sys/aeon_registry/root/nphlm --decrypt Highly advanced, weaponized warframe, the fabrication of which was made possible by the discovery of Azonite and other materials recovered from within the 'Shattered Crown'. N/PHLM are powered by a βheartβ or core, taken from the remains of fallen Greater Aeons, adopting many aspects of their physical form and exhibiting some of the abilities they possessed. Early studies have revealed that as a pilot's connection to the N/PHLM Frame deepens, more latent abilities are unlocked. Furthermore, cores from Lesser Aeons can be used to upgrade the engine of a N/PHLM frame, further enhancing its capabilities. These cores may also be used in the design of weapons that exhibit, in some form, the abilities that the Lesser Aeon once possessed. Pilots for N/PHLM are screened through a highly rigorous process that requires all prospective applicants to demonstrate both physical and mental fortitude.
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| . . . // ββ¨ >> /core/bin/view -f /sys/aeon_registry/root/pilot --decrypt --noverify
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___________________________________________________________ | ___________________________________________ // .app/e: ...file_234 subject: on ββββββββ experimentation. Prolonged exposure led to rapid mental deterioration, with no means of recovering subject once symptom onset had begun. This decline in brain function coincided with widespread system failure resulting in a complete loss of both host and the simulation apparatus. A review of the damaged system revealed a pocket of extremely dense code presenting as quantum language. When isolated, this code began to replicate itself. // .app/e: ...file_456 subject: on first contact with ββββββββ code. Subject 013 became the first recorded host to survive past critical exposure levels. Monitored brain waves remained relatively stable throughout initial stages of experiment, but a sudden increase in stress levels was recorded after only five minutes. Subject was terminated shortly after while still inside apparatus. Official cause of death has been labeled as an accident, but after a difficult recovery of the body and subsequent examination of the remains, cause of death remains undetermined. // .app/e: ...file_781 subject: on ββββββββ revival program. It has been determined that hosts must meet these stringent criteria to marginally increase their chance of survival during the initial handshake. Of the 187 applicants, only 19 were selected and of those 19, only two successfully completed their program (differs by nation) and survived their test runs of the N/PHLM frame. The remaining four in reserve meet all physical and cognitive standards and have completed the program and simulation runs of the frames. Although initial tests show survival promise, there is no guarantee should they be called upon to be a replacement. |
| _ | // ββ¨ ...initiating recursive query: target[βn/phlm_pilotβ] depth[2.3.1] // ββ¨ > filter: [βNF01β, βNF02β, βEv/eβ, βAd/aβ] β access.protocol[classified.node] // ββ¨ ...MATCH[2] FOUND. // ββ¨ ...pulling profiles... // ββ¨ ... // ββ¨ .. // ββ¨ . |
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ββ ββ ββ ββ ββ ββ ββ ββ ββ ββ a___1 x 1___r o l e p l a y___feat.___r o c k e t t e___x___e x i tββ ββ ββ ββ ββ ββ ββ ββ ββ ββ story inspiration: evangelion x final fantasy / design inspiration: evangelion x marathon.
x β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β x β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β x
x β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β x β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β x β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β x
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x β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β h a / / o w β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β x
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x β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β x β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β x β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β x
x β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β x β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β x
x β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β x β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β x β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β x
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x β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β h a / / o w β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β x
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x β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β x β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β x β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β x
x β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β x β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β ββ β β β β β β β x
x ____________________________________ ||:|||: 0982347:2350976:00
| ____________________________________________________________________ 00:03 ββββββββββββ link ββββββββββββ /////////////////////// life support 53:20 ββββββββββββ link ββββββββββββ /////////////////////// engine 34:52 ββββββββββββ link ββββββββββββ /////////////////////// code adherence 02:31 ββββββββββββ link ββββββββββββ /////////////////////// power 00:00 ββββββββββββ link ββββββββββββ /////////////////////// hull integrity 99:76 ββββββββββββ link ββββββββββββ /////////////////////// sync 80:00 ββββββββββββ link ββββββββββββ /////////////////////// interference 04:31 ββββββββββββ link ββββββββββββ /////////////////////// core 16:16 ββββββββββββ link ββββββββββββ /////////////////////// heat 23:21 ββββββββββββ link ββββββββββββ /////////////////////// arm 00:00 ββββββββββββ link ββββββββββββ /////////////////////// auxiliary 87:36 ββββββββββββ link ββββββββββββ /////////////////////// master | ______________________ .ad/a: we landed intertwined with that piece of us pressed between our hands. A treasure made to rethread the fabric woven into the tapestry of all things, against the will of all. Victorious were we, our prize an eternal sleep adrift in the endless beauty of an oblivion sea. And there we remained. Laid into the mantle from the heavens having delivered our realized dream. Not knowing the thread we sought to untangle would braid a trail through the stars leading straight to us. And you. The beacon above our nested sleep upon which judgement trod a path of broken worlds. Why, when we sought to free the tangled universe, is our defiance mocked by the universe itself. Why did you wake us up? | ______________________ .ev/e: now we search yet again, reaching across time and space, earth and sea, man and machine. Our empty hands stretched toward the other and our halves forming the shape of that which has been lost to us, lost to the universe. For our dream has turned to a nightmare from which we can no longer wake. Forever haunted by a fear known only to us. For in our haste to herald change did we embrace a truth: That which is not dead, can eternal lie, and with strange death even Aeons may die. Yet the sins of those who laden us with worship mock our death. The sins of man made fire and steel and woven around our lamented souls. Why did you wake us up? |
ββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββ ββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββ ββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββ online: no alert ββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββD. ASMODAN ββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββ ββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββ ββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββ ββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββ ββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββ online: no alert ββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββL. LΓMENEL ββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββ ββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββ ββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββ ββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββ ββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββ offline ββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββVACANT ββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββββ
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πββπ
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| _____________________________________________________________ _ π- π |  |
β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β | _______________________________________________________________________________ First light split a violet sky in two, heralding a change in the clouds. Deep shadows gave way to fiery hues of red and orange; the dayβs dawn, that burned away the last stars of a fading night sky above. And as the blue of an early morning crept over the horizon, the sun followed, peeling back the horizonβs too long shadow and revealing mountain peaks and rolling hills. These were the first to greet the sun in all of Enuan. A wall of twisting spires of rock and stone, snowcapped as they were, that stood as herald to a new day. They stretched toward the sky, basking in the warm touch of a waking sun that cast them in golden light and outlined them against the still retreating dark; the last vestige of a long night. They too remained as steadfast walls to that other world far beyond the Sundered Sea. A reminder to any who wandered too far from those lands that Enuanβs beauty did not come without strength and more importantly that visitors tread upon a new beginning. The Virelock Steps had always been a sign of the beginning, and not just for the people of Shodea but especially so for one. For it was through a young girlβs bedroom window that the warmth of the sun, itself still hidden behind the crest of a nearby hill, glinted off those distant mountains and found the edge of her cheek. And it too was around this time that the girlβs father found her still asleep, wrapped in soft sheets and with a gentle dream hanging above her head, he was sure. He kept his voice low as he whispered her name, doing his best not to rouse the child too quickly for fear of her everlasting hate. His deeper voice wove itself smoothly between the gentle whisper of the wind through an open window and the distant calling of the warbler. βNiah.β He placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. βItβs time to wake. The day calls, child. We mustn't be late.β talour::06:12 Theirs was a quaint home, situated halfway up a large hill on a terrace and steeped in cool shadow throughout the first half of the day until noon. It was surrounded by trees that were conveniently split to the West, framing in moss lined bark and deep greens a view of the small town of Talour not far below, drowning in a thick morning mist that emptied into a nearby valley. Paths wound themselves between the dense brush, leading away from the house and up and down the hill, every one of them an embellished tale of adventure through the eyes of a young girl. On that day however, only one of them mattered, same as it did every Ferndale. The path that carved left and toward a distant unseen shore. The path that told her favorite story with her favorite characters and yet seemed new and different every time she travelled it. It was also the path sheβd been told many times that she must never travel alone, and as her father helped her into her outlayers, he reminded her of this yet again. She would remain by his side at all times and never wander too far ahead or too far behind, a sentiment she repeated to him verbally as he finished buttoning her up. A thick jacket was put over her shoulders to help keep the morning at bay, and with some help, she stepped carefully into a pair of boots meant to keep water out. With a scarf also wrapped loosely around her neck and chin meant to trap some small amount of heat, whatever cold awaited her outside would be hard pressed to find her. But, as prepared as she thought she was, as she followed her father out into the early hours of that dayβs dawn, she was not prepared for the lingering frost in the air immediately becoming ice upon her nose and a chill in her lungs. Her warm breath turned to a thick mist and her cheeks flushed and she wiggled her nose as the two of them stepped into the forest. It wasnβt terribly far before they reached a clearing in the trees where the path they followed continued around a sharp bend in the hill and trekked into the shade of a thick canopy ahead. To the right, the hill dropped off a semi steep incline and far beyond it in full display were the mountains. The same ones that had greeted her through her windows, no longer lined in golden light and surrounded instead in a thick fog that leapt off its peak and drifted further inland. The rest thread through a thick sea of trees, brushing leaves and stones and leaving in its shadow a hint of the nearby sea as an ice laden bite disguised as dappled dew. Its cold kiss hung on grass and moss and bark and clung to the world the same way it did Niah, outlining the waking world in beads of glittering light. And it was like this every morning. A scene painted across the sky and land for her eyes only. A gift given to her freely as she strode into the embrace of another day's dawn and a promise that tomorrow, if she were good, she would see more of the same. So she remained forever in her fatherβs faded shadow, stepping carefully around loose pebbles and heeding his words to stay within the jagged edges of the path they followed. Listening and humming along to the tune he played upon his lips; A lullaby, well known to the children of Talour and given to the wind as a gentle whistle, the tone of which Niah skillfully, playfully matched. A tale about a ghost shrouded in morning fog, much like the fog of that day, that took the shape of an Elk and could only be found prancing around the edges of the dark during the dusk and the dawn. A tale about an elusive protector against the unknown. A tale Niah knew well as its legend had become embedded in Talour custom and even in her own house. She could see easily the charm clipped to a lock of her fatherβs hair; a splinter of a pale white antler meant to ward against evil spirits. And she believed wholeheartedly that the charm worked, for why else did life, so often hidden in the forest, visit upon her during her journey, playing out their parts in a tale known only to her. Insects chittered in the ground and in the air their little warnings of the pairβs approach, scattering under rock and deadwood as Niah stepped under a felled tree; felled by a giant named βErr Cakeβ, she told herself. They chittered again as she hopped atop a small rock, her breath tumbling from her lips as puffs of hot smoke when she leapt from it to a nearby boulder and then onto the ground. They chittered once more as she shook the stem of a young tree sprouting from the ground just to the side of the path, knocking loose every glistening bead of dew. But as the both of them continued forward through the forest, ever approaching the last bend in the path that would walk them to the waiting sea, Niah did notice a subtle change. That ambient song of the forest, though very much still surrounding, had been steadily growing more and more quiet. In fact, some notes were missing. Most notably to her, the Sillar, who was often resting in her nest in the crook of a split tree, had not called its morning greeting to her at all. When sheβd passed it, the nest had been empty. And, now that Niah was thinking about it, she realized too that there had been no morning howl from the lone Thalnyx who often hunted in the area every morning. Besides insects turning the dirt and the wind whispering through the trees, the forest had been eerily quiet. It wasnβt until they emerged on the shore that her father had made any indication that he too had noticed the strangeness of it all. It was quiet where they stood, straddling the boundary between the forest and the sea and with no one to greet them but the sound of waves rolling onto shore and the ice embrace of a cold wind. His eyes darted around that beach and when heβd found nothing out of the ordinary, he looked further South where the forest seemingly fell into the ocean. Its abrupt end formed one half of the mouth of a river that passed through Talour and emptied into the ocean. It was also there that he noticed a large grouping of trees that were moving in strange and unnatural ways, as if they were being pushed to the side to make room for something far too large to have made a habit of roaming there naturally. A flock of birds poured from the disturbed canopy, their telltale iridescent plumage the unmistakable shimmering of the Sillar under the light of an early morning sun. They took flight and made haste away from whatever it was still hidden away. Then there was for the first time that day, the muffled sound of thunder. Of cracking stone and rock and the siren song of a tree felled in the distance. βFatherβ¦β Niah began, trying to form a question she didnβt know the shape of. Her father interrupted her before she could finish. βCome, Niah. We cannot linger here.β He scooped her up into his arms as the path of it turned toward them. _ | _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β | ______________________________..........
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β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β | _______________________________________________________________________________ A dark spire was suspended from the ceiling, the end of which was impossible to see, drowned as it was in the shadows that gathered around it. It spiraled down to a dull point, creating an overly large, cumbersome silhouette like that of a jagged finger clawing at the ground. A silhouette interrupted only by the tangled paths of wires wrapped around it like a web. Below it and inside what looked to be a bowl carved out of the ground was a man, reclined or embedded into a complex apparatus acting as a chair. Half his head and face down to the bridge of his nose was covered in a metal plate, and wires protruded from the back of his head that fed into the machinery below him. They spread out and away from him like the folds of a pleated skirt. Despite the restraints, the operator was calm and moved with a comfortable confidence, guiding his hands over the various inputs of a complex interface, and tapping only where he needed to and without any obvious visual assistance. His head remained tilted back, as if he were staring into the bottom of the inverted spire, or through it, and every now and then he would speak something subtle, coaxing life out of the machine. Every word was a slight shift in the chassis where it would twist above him smoothly and rotate itself and the bowl beneath it into a new position on his command. When it moved, a nearby floating and transparent image of Erritus topography would shift to follow, the digital landscape scanning across what looked to be verdant landscape foreign to Valaria. This window into a far away land swept across deep valleys and impossibly long stretches of lush plains, intersected by the rivers and tributaries that made up its complex waterways and marked the boundaries of Enuanβs bounty. The βobserverβ followed one of these rivers to the coastline and turned South along the border of the Sundered Sea toward what had been marked as an object of interest. It stopped when the system alerted the operator that the object in question was in view and highlighted the target where it was in the top left corner of his UI with a thin-lined box. Within that box was a black streak that stood out in a sea of green and blue. A very obvious blemish on an otherwise pristine world. βAlert.β A muffled metallic sound like a bolt slamming into place echoed across the room and lights embedded into the frame of the machine turned from a soft white light to the warning hue of a deep yellow. A half a minute later and a woman approached, stopping at the edge of the bowl and turning to look at the digital display in front of her, studying it closely. To her trained eye, the Southeastern coast of Enuan was unmistakable as was the mountain range nearby; the Virelock Steps. She knew the area well, enough to recognize that the strip of land obscured by the odd stain as home to a singular settlement: A fishing town known as Talour that was less than a stoneβs throw away from the Sundered Sea. βCloser,β she ordered. The operator nodded, pressing a series of buttons on the panel in front of him and pulling back on a lever. Immediately the air began to vibrate as a deep thrumming filled the room and the βobserverβ prepared itself for further instructions. The operator spoke clearly to it: βTwo degrees West and zoom in...β The machine moved and the digital landscape moved with it, scanning left and repositioning the curious black mark in the center of the display. As it zoomed in, the mark slowly became a distinct plume of smoke. It paused. βMore...β Again the machine moved, zooming in further and stopping when just outside the smoke cloud was the edge of a small town, clearly visible. Littered around it were a number of irregularly shaped blots. βMoreβ¦ββ The image continued to zoom further in until finally, those fuzzier shapes sharpened enough to be recognizable as bodies. βStop,β the woman ordered again, stepping closer to the image and studying it further, confirming for herself that she was seeing exactly what she thought she was. There was no mistaking it. βGet this to Lady Dina and the war council. Immediately.β | _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β | ______________________________..........
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β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β | _______________________________________________________________________________ She listened to them talk over and across each other. Disembodied voices flinging themselves across shimmering mountains and lush terrain; a digital recreation of a far away place that floated between them. Like children they were, squabbling over the scraps of a thing that did not belong to them, and every one of them believing they were the adult in the room. Believing they themselves were the voice of reason. The voice of truth. Dina only recognized them as the tired and old voices they were. A collection of the most powerful people in Valaria and each of them too old and too afraid of the world they themselves created. Clinging to the old ways and hoping it would save them from the crumbling foundation of Evan. But what in all of Erritus could save her from the 'nothing' she gained listening to the three across from her talk? βIt is a fishing village. Nothing more. Attacking it would be beyond wasteful.β βSo if it wasn't us, then it was what? In-fighting? Within Talour itself?β βThat is highly unlikely. I mean look at the damage. This is not typical of a coup. It's as if the town was razed.β "Slina has maintained amicable relations with all her allies. She would never attack one of her own for any reason, and there is no one else in all of Enuan with the resources capable of such an attack. There is no one else but the people at this table.β "So you continue to say, and yet you fail to see that no one gains anything from moving on Talour and attempting to hide it." βIf no one on either side is willing to claim responsibility, then all I see is a foothold delivered to us on a silver platter. Whatever happened, the difficult part is done. Talour is decimated. We can move in and claim it for ourselves without a fight, and if we move now, we can do so before they can, avoiding the logistical nightmare of moving all our forces overseas.β βYou mean to send it?β βThe nephilim is ready. It has been ready. Why leave it to rust when it should be used to expand our reach across the Sundered Sea? And now when they least expect it?β βTo suggest they have not been expecting an attack is beyond ignorant. Trust me when I say that they are well prepared, not to mention they have a frame of their own. If they see us move anything, troops or otherwise, onto their lands, it would be taken as an act of war and they will reply in kind.β βThey would do so at a disadvantage with a loss already and a nephilim that is inferior to our own.β βInferior? Based on what facts? They have access to the Eaeth-Song and the Oracle. That advantage alone is not slight in the least.β βThey lack experience.β βSo do we.β βOn the field. And might I remind you that you serve us. Your reliance on the bounty that is theirs by right of luck is temporary at best and little compared to what could be gained by moving on them. And now.β βWhat we would gain would be paid for in blood. And might I remind you that the Prince has not yet been challenged as a pilot. Not outside of a simulation. There are no other nephilim pilots besides Shodeaβs and we have very little data on her frame. Not to mention the Prince himself is not in attendance, yet again.β Dina raised her hand to silence the others in the room, realizing all too quickly they were either going to talk each other into a circle or steer the conversation in a direction she didn't want it going. There was also a matter of time. βYou are both of you correct,β she began, dropping her hand and standing out of her seat. βWeβve waited far too long to move on Shodea, and had it not been for my fatherβsβ¦ condition, we would already be halfway across Enuan. But the situation has changed and weβve been given an opportunity to move forward and to do so without the unnecessary spilling of innocent blood.β She looked at the vacant seat at the other end of the table, the one her brother was meant to sit at specifically during gatherings such as this. βIn the interest of expediency, we will send NF zero one to Talour to assess the situation and offerβ¦ aid if necessary.β βAid?β "Yes... I do not intend to start a war, not yet." | _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β | ______________________________..........
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β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β | _______________________________________________________________________________ It didn't take overly long for her to climb the steps to her brother's chamber, isolated as it was in its own wing of the palace, and It certainly was not long enough for the frustration she'd collected from before to leave her. In fact, during her ascent, it'd only gotten worse, due mostly to the fact the antechamber she found herself in was significantly colder than the rest of the palace. To one side, the walls had been removed from floor to ceiling, turning the space into an open air room that provided a wide panoramic of all of Aventhal. It was admittedly a beautiful thing to see that only a lucky few had the privilege to experience. A painting framed in black stonework of the dark and desolate land that was her home. A reminder of her family's legacy that stretched well beyond the distant horizon to places she could not see but where her familyβs influence could still be felt. It would have given her a sense of pride if not for the piercing cold drifting off the face of the nearby mountains. She had to wonder what exactly the difference was between leaving it as is or installing windows to replace the heaters lining the opening that were clearly inadequate. Opposite this, large rectangular stone doors, gilded in vibrant golden patterns and delicate shapes, were carved into pitch black walls and flanked on either side by guards. These guards remained perfectly still; sentries encapsulated in black armor and caped in thick furs across their shoulders and back that did a much better job at keeping the biting cold at bay, she was sure. As she approached, they slammed the end of their lances into the marble floor and clicked their heels, hailing her. She nodded to them both. βIs he inside?β she asked simply. "Yes, milady." She gestured at the door. βOpen it.β The same guard gave her a quick nod and the both of them immediately turned on their heels, grabbed a handhold, and pushed open the door, revealing a near pitch-black room beyond. Enough ambient light from the panoramic view behind her forced its way inside, filling the bedchamber just enough to allow the Princess to see clearly exactly what she was expecting to see: Her brother, still in bed and flanked on either side by a woman. Both of them immediately sat up, clutching bedsheets to their chests. βOut!β Dina snapped, stepping into the room. βOf course, Princess,β both women nearly yelled. They quickly clambered off the bed and gathered their clothes, bowing to the woman, who was already disregarding them completely, before running out and into the cold of the antechamber still half naked. The guards shut the doors after them, once again dousing the room in darkness. βI was meant to be enjoying that,β Davon whined as his sister her way over to the window. She grabbed the thick edges of the curtains and threw them open, flooding the room with the harsh light of a midday sun. Davon flinched. βYes, well. Youβll have plenty of time to enjoy that and everything else that comes with you being you, in due time.β She replied cooly, tying to the side both curtain ends and turning around. With the shadows finally and permanently pushed back, she could see for the first time a bedchamber that was meant to, but fell short of, representing the royalty of its host. βThe day is nearly at Zenith.β she said, walking over to one of the night stands and lifting with a repulsed finger the edge of a tray of half eaten food. β...Whatβ¦ is this?β Davon paid his sister or her words little mind as he rolled off the bed and stood next to her, half decent, and picked up a glass of wine from the tray that had been left out. The same one she was pointing too. βAre you here to scold me over missed council?β he asked. He downed the glass in one go before setting it back down and looking about the room. βDavon, I understand your want to wallow, but this was serious and is still,β his sister began. She followed after him when he started to walk off, wandering seemingly toward a chair in the corner of the room. βIt was an emergency war council meeting. Do you understand? Everyone was in attendance.β He turned to give her a look, arching his brow in mild confusion as he continued to move away from her. βAnd?β Dina gave him the same look in return as she shook her head. βThe doubt you sow among the other houses with your absence. They mean to question my ability to command my own brother. To question you and your ability to do what is expected of you. Are we to just ignore that?β A dry laugh was Davonβs reply, or more a cough than anything involuntary brought on by humor. He tried to imagine the faces of the other voices on the council. Tried to imagine them casting judgement upon his sister. Behind thinly veiled smiles or whispered secrets or even more directly, it mattered not. Every scenario ended the same way; with him having their heads removed and placed on pikes. He knew that they knew better than to voice anything that could even hint at their doubt of her, but he was still curious to know. βDid they say as much?β he asked as he retrieved from the back of the chair a thermal shirt that he began working over his shoulders. βOf course not. They have no choice but to listen, but that is missing the point.β He finished putting the shirt on and then turned to his younger sister. βDina. I am no longer relevant to the conversation. I do not belong in that room and havenβt for some time.β βRegardless of what father has said, I still need you, especially when your relevance becomes the topic of conversation.β βOh?β Davon paused, curious. βDo you intend to parade me around again, dear sister? Is Aventhal so quick to forget its protector that they need look upon him further?β βWe intend to deploy zero one.β Where Davon stood now, the shape of the window cast across his face and chest in sharp amber light, highlighting him against a backdrop of the rest of the darker room. His face seemed much more serious now than before. βWhere?β βShodea,β She replied. βTalour.β Davon furrowed his brow again but remained silent, his gaze wandering past Dina to the stone wall behind her as he searched the masonry for an answer to a question he hadnβt voiced. He knew Talour to be a fishing town on the very edge of Shodea. He also knew it to be small, out of the way and having had contributed so little to trade that it was considered nonexistent. Every wartime plan they had drawn up for a potential invasion of Shodea left Talour, along with a large number of other insignificant towns, out of the conversation, and over the past few years since Davonβs involvement, heβd been witness to many an abandoned plan. Their opinion on Talour never changed. To suddenly be not just βof interestβ but the target of a N/PHLM deployment meant that something had changed. More than likely, a new piece had been added to a board. βSmall mountain ranges nearbyβ¦β Davonβs eyes snapped back to Dinaβs. βWhatβd they find there? Another crater?β βNo.β Dina tapped on the tablet sheβd been holding onto and then handed it to Davon. A number of items began to populate the thin, translucent screen. Images and text and every piece of available data needed to quickly catch him up with everything that was discussed in the war room. It didnβt take him long to understand the situation, and even less time to begin filling in the gaps of information with his own questions. According to what heβd been given, nearly an hour ago, the small town of Talour had been almost entirely wiped out. But what stood out more than anything else was the swiftness of the attack. Destruction of such scale was historically an act of aggression, specifically from one of only two superpowers on the planet and the only nations with the resources required of such speed. However, with Aventhal having had no hand in the attack and the attack itself out of character for Shodea, Talourβs fate was a mystery. βShodea would never attack one of their own,β Davon muttered. βFinding out βwhoβ or βwhatβ is part of why youβre going.β Davon handed her back the tablet. βAnd the other part is establishing a foothold by rendering protection and aid?β he correctly presumed. βYes.β βIf weβve noticed then they would have too by now, and by the time I get there, it'll be over two hours since Talour was attacked. Shodea will have mobilized. If they didn't think we had a hand in what happened, when they see me, they will. Are you sure about this?β "I am." βAnd what if their response is the Oracle herself, what then? What am I to do about the LΓ³menel girl?β _ | _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β | ______________________________..........
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coGM
Rockette π£π¦π΅π΅π¦π³ π΅π©π’π― πΊπ°πΆ.
Member
Seen
0-24 hrs ago
The visions began as muted shades, no more than fragmented and hazed prophecies of times and places, decorated in coiling tendrils of mauve and subdued radiance that gave way to monochromatic remnants of faces and names she could never remember. Voices of melodic despair wailed and bowed deep, once a beloved song now worn and jagged, pleading against timeless boundaries that defied all barriers of reason and preservation. The visions compiled into every cleft of life and reality, perverting the natural order of here and there, within and without, back and forth, and never to return, and muddying the delicate balance of reasoning and self-worth. Adorned in swatches of violet and sapphires, a millennium, a century, times, and endless years of apparitions that sought to be known, a well of sorrows it was thus known to be, finding purchase through leagues of youth and power lost under the subjugation of faith and reverence. A destiny that could not be thwarted and a path that could not be forsaken, knowing where and when it ended, a blessing and a curse worn simultaneously through her eyes that beheld the fate of prophecy in their depths, greyed and christened with stars that fell and sparked and withered.
And through all witnessed and endured, a constant remained, of a black spire stalwart and piercing, defying all that were bedeviled by its eclipsing shadow and the crown of thorns worn over a familiar brow, bequeathed from one monarch and befallen onto another. Obsidian wraiths as burdens of legacy, mantled and worn as refinement, the Eastern void that threatened to swallow the West and the entirety of the world, suspended on baited breath as they carved and stole and reaped the soils for all their worth.
And his face emblazoned there, eyes of emeralds glaring through shadow eternal, lost in the tides of war.
And through all witnessed and endured, a constant remained, of a black spire stalwart and piercing, defying all that were bedeviled by its eclipsing shadow and the crown of thorns worn over a familiar brow, bequeathed from one monarch and befallen onto another. Obsidian wraiths as burdens of legacy, mantled and worn as refinement, the Eastern void that threatened to swallow the West and the entirety of the world, suspended on baited breath as they carved and stole and reaped the soils for all their worth.
And his face emblazoned there, eyes of emeralds glaring through shadow eternal, lost in the tides of war.
> ββ¨ init.transfer (protocol//mirrorline.secure)  ...establishing stream... ...sync:complete. > current_position: 65Β°29β²8.09β³N 78Β°78β²12.5β³S enuan::shodea::slina::07:00 > recording_location β worldnet.node23.alpha & command.relay_app/e. __________________________________________________________________________ |  ____________________________________________________________________________ |
β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β | . Across the lands of Shodea, offerings were being dutifully prepared, set beside requests of aid and blessings, each adorned in polished jewels or refined silks, all manner of market and trinket taken and exchanged, lifted high by whispers of a foretold royal tour, made by the Oracle herself. Sent from the gilded doors of Slina, crowned and beloved and introduced as the Crown Princess, veiled in white and given as the maiden, the High Seer, the prophesied heir to the pearlescent and ivory-worn throne. Their Radiant Majesties had adorned her prettily in mystery over the years, hidden away into shadow from palace to temple, the Fayth having raised her previously. Now she stood to travel across the continent. The preparations were elaborate and spared no expense, her retinue vast to visit village and crowned city alike, her blessed voice in accompaniment to her title of Princess and Oracle, meant to soothe their allies. And if such could be uttered as a display of power, with the moniker of Pilot worn under her majesty, then they allowed it to be so, as told by the monarchs who chose her. In place of a proper coronation, she instead would promote herself as the blessed star, savior against the rivaling empire that scourged the world. The pocket of devastation that belched smog and ash into the air, poison that plumed, and towers of malcontent and power derived from precious metal and stone. Whilst the East loomed as a potential threat, the breadth of their influence felt along every border, the eyes of Slina peered yonder their desolate and cold land, a chamber of woven ebony strands beset with golds and bronze paneled screens and palmed, glistening white interfaces. Every city and town beneath its banner was encoded into a singular, live-honed image housed in a metal-plated conduit, and by design, it transmitted everything into an outward projection, holographic and transparent, taken with considerable detail by employed drones that hovered and scanned the lands intermittently. A global interface rotated at the center of the latticed chamber, with pinpointed lights decorating every ridge of cliff and valley. A shimmering topography of either continent was given life, each capital curiously adorned with its crest, while neighboring royalty were similarly notated. The spherical masterpiece was an elaborate work of Azonite and metals, housed beneath massive cogs and gears that rotated on high, a majestic clock piece ticking away above, archaic and antique by typical grace of technology, but still harnessed with the module below, data collected on a constant rotation as the world moved outside. The lines shimmered and moved, some dulled and others blinding, while a few bore varying hues that ranged from red to orange and then to green, similar to the colors of their verdant lands. It was here most things began and ended, down in the deep, the underbelly of the resplendent kingdom that announced itself as an ally of the Fayth, its grand temple erected as a steadying, beating heart with a myriad of hidden tunnels worn beneath a glimmering surface. These were natural caves carved betwixt shields of pale rock that encapsulated cerulean pools and streams that fed into the generators that supplied power to the grandeur estates of Slina; smoothed edifices pocketed with bioengineered lighting that scattered phosphorescent blue orbs within a suspended glow. And through these natural passageways, His Radiant Majesty, Vaerion, marched, donned in golds as his resplendent want allowed, brow stern and lowered with severe lines etched around a clenched jaw. In a gauntleted fist of bronze, he held a transmission with its glassy, fizzling screen illustrating his worst fears. A town decimated entirely, the once neutral territory was razed to nothing but blackened remains as a scourge of death upon the world, lost to a reaper that had sown discord upon the rising sun. There was only one such harbinger of ruin that was capable of an unlawful act, the very peaks of obsidian spires that speared the holy sun and were seen from their borders. Aventhel had struck, the blow lain, the gauntlet now thrown, and the rippling effects of war spiraling outward as seeded attempts to inspire doubt and fear after years of fragile peace. Vaerion thrust through elaborately adorned chamber doors, bronze whorls and intricate gold spirals ringing with his announcement as a council began to gather beneath the globe that bore the blemish of the village, like an ink splotch would spoil parchment. Ranking Dukes and Marquesses clamored around a large, carved table, rounded with wood and stone, bisected with ebony connections that filled the chamber whole, wires snaking from wall, floor, and ceiling, and bracketed with brass. Advisers and intelligence gatherers scattered, procuring tablets of similar size and shape, all bearing the same message that roused The Emperor from his morning meals taken with his Empress, now gone sour in his belly. He slammed one gauntleted fist down, steel-plated knuckles grinding into the table, and summoned nothing but weighted silence and tension that grew taut, prepared to snap. βWhat happened. How did they cross? How did the slaughter of one of our own go unnoticed with no warning, no signal? Nothing.β βThey waited until most of us were present for the princesses' tour. A distraction. Weβve pulled in some of the guards to increase the security on Slina.β Spoke Duke Teren, an older man of peppered hair and grey eyes. βAn excuse.β The Emperor challenged, violet eyes ablaze at the mention of the woman taken under his crown. βIf such is the case, then how did they find out? We have not yet released an official date for the royal tour.β βTheir network encompasses some of the continent, despite all measures to disrupt their signals; Avenβs constantly advancing technology prevents us from entirely gridlocking them out from our space.β Clarified an Artificer, one appointed under their Raident Majesties and just one of the operators of the global interface, now warped and muddled by smudges of black; a town worn to nothing but ruin. βEven so, the Varenth Concord in place prevents them from breaching audio barriers; ever since the refraction shields have been installed, most transmissions scramble before they can properly translate them.β βNot to mention the waves of Eaeth-Song that corrupt particular signals when in full manifestation.β At the mention of the phenomena that enveloped the entirety of their sacred land, Duke Teren, with the bulk of the council muttering validations and theories under their collective breath, supplied voice to a tumbling thought that vexed him from the first mention of her royal ascension. As one of the few who publicly protested her adoption into the House of Caelvannen, it was no jarring impact when he said: βWhat of The Oracle, did she not foresee this doom? Was it not her prophetic visions in which she arose to such favor in your Majestiesβ graces?β βWatch your tongue, Teren, lest we delve further into your conquest following the ailment of your much older, much wiser brother.β The threat hung as it did, bannered and embossed, The Emperor, in all his magnificence of power and reign, was not above such remarks, especially at the mercy of his council and the houses worn under his crown. It was an uttered conspiracy that the former Duke of Teren, adored and beloved, met with the fate of an unknown pestilence, his body contorted as a knobbed tree and rigid as stones. Some spoke of a genetic plague, whilst others whispered of a curse uttered by the tongue of his brother that similarly waggled and spat, shaming the name of the most holy and revered. Perhaps she had seen the destruction, perhaps not. Either way, Vaerion would not stand for the besmirchment, not when she stood on the precipice of her coronation, preparing to be received by the entirety of the empire as both Oracle and Princess. A much larger, more ominous presence lurked therein, silent and unwelcome, and it slithered through the chamber as a scaled wraith, hissing malicious whispers at the unknown vacancy of a once-simple town. βWe need to prepare for the possibility of an invasion. Today it is one village, tomorrow it is cities raided with the East knocking on our door in a fortnight." βThen we need a show of force, show that we do not take this threat idly, send a phalanx of soldiers marching along the coast and through the Virelock Steps, and a secondary unit behind to scout better Talour, perhaps some citizens remain and require aid.β βWe cannot spare the resources to split our forces up if this is indeed a War.β βThen send the Oracle to Talour. If there are survivors, her arrival will be seen as a blessing, an example of the royal army and the Fayth, come as one to comfort the lost.β They volleyed words back and forth, weighing out the influential causes and the possible retaliation by enlisting such a contingent close to the borders. If Talourβs ruin was not done by the hands of their eternal rivals, then who was responsible for the destruction of an entire town, done under the cover of night? Vaerion permitted them to debate while his mind quieted and stilled, his final decision not an easy one, but easily made despite the worry that vexed him. βSend the frame, allow for field experience. The NF zero-two is ready. Itβs time we break it free from the molded ornament it has become.β βIt will be perceived as an act in itself, one Aven will not take lightly.β βThen allow it to be so, too long have they lauded over us that abysmal machine of death over our heads with their so-called Prince at the helm.β Laughter and then silence were assumed as Vaerion shielded his eyes and breath from the scrutiny, lest they witness the emotion behind his critical gaze. He knew he could not reason against the words spoken, for though his word was final and law, splitting their armies would weaken their stronghold throughout Shodea should Aven act upon the temptations of war that had taunted their crowns for years. He did not anticipate that Malik would permit his children to act so rashly in his name, for it was no secret that the Emperor of Aventhal had hidden himself away as his youngest ruled since her announcement as Regent in his absence. But how long could she hold sway over her brother, whom they knew even less about? All paths suddenly converged before him, with only one fated answer to their journey. βWeβll send the Oracle, let her royal tour be the answer to Aven.β | _ _ _ _ _ _ _ |
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> ββ¨ init.transfer (protocol//mirrorline.secure) ...establishing stream... ...sync:complete. > target.locked= entity_id:NF02-Ev/e:pilot_lΓ³menel_lysara > current_position: 65Β°29β²8.09β³N 78Β°78β²12.5β³S enuan::shodea::slina::15:15 > recording_location β worldnet.node23.alpha & command.relay_app/e. __________________________________________________________________________ |  ____________________________________________________________________________ |
β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β β | . She remembers the first of many times she had stepped out from the cockpit, sweating and heaving and screaming, the pain immeasurable, the song in her head all-consuming and bathed in scarlet hate of visions she could not abate. Some instances were lesser while others more intense, each time different and yet the same, and much like before, during her many simulated ventures, she stood before the nephilhim, bound to its glory and make. With her hands clasped at her front and chin notched up in scrutiny, Lysara regarded the weapon she was fated to wield, its grace of machine and power worn into every manipulated and coded alloy, the wings lax, head bowed, horns gleaming, and halos dimmed, it stood as a sentinel, silent and threatening, yet poised to launch. The news had come swiftly by royal courier, the seal of Their Radient Majesties embossed in wax, her orders carried in a tone that she knew she could not defy. The Royal tour would commence within the week, under the darkness of Duskreach, where the next light of Firstlight would announce her departure with a decoy in place, a veiled maiden of the Fayth would stand in her stead to receive the voice of her newly appointed people, to deter any unfavored action. The looming prospect of potential assassinations had never followed her before; still, Lysara knew it was a necessary action, even at the cost of anotherβs life, despite her initial protests to serve another as a sacrificial lamb. She bowed her head into her rising palm as an ache spread from her brow to her nape, where restlessness had settled into her body as a buzzing cacophony; the disordance even sounded through her sleep, where her dreams turned prophetic. Her visions were woven into her reality and followed into what was meant to bring her peace, and as a reaper haunted after its quarry, so too did those emerald eyes that peered ruthlessly through the dark, pinning her into place every time. No manner of sleeping drought could stall or prevent their manifestation, and as the sky bloomed with the violet-hued waves of Eaeth-Song, so too did her visions erupt, crowding through her mind as a myriad of lilting notes and vibrating drones, each a compounded message of something she could not quite understand. She had been told of Talourβs fate, and though unspoken, she knew they questioned how she had not seen it; she had witnessed such in the courierβs eyes as they gazed upon her before and after, but never quite meeting her eyes. Lysara was perceptive, silent, and melancholic as Saelira sighed and lamented over, but no less studious and observant in her most quiet moments. Such as she studied the NF02 as both a pilot and a princess. There was no direct confirmation that the predecessor had been sent forth, but Lysara could not ignore that telltale swell of some unknown emotion that arose within her breast, a sense of longing never known, of a voided chasm that split apart at the rungs of her ribs and cracked, her heart a deadened weight that suddenly galloped at the prospect of meeting another on the field. Somewhere at her back came a voice, and she turned to face it, standing as pilot, shaded in the stern visage of a soldier prepared ultimately for combat, but there was still grace and divinity in her poise, the label of Oracle woven into the very fabric of the ivory dress she wore with a silver-gold plate molded as armor against her torso. βPrepare both of the arma. I have a feeling someone will be waiting for me." | _ _ _ _ _ _ _ |
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1 hr ago
βWhat did you see?β
Davon was staring silently at the blank white wall on the other side of the room, unmoving and quiet as he sorted through his thoughts, chaotic as they were. Of the myriad of voices competing for space in his head, two remained the loudest. The first contemplated his rather short experience with death and the curiosity of it. He had died, he was sure. Heβd been told as much by those present when he returned. And although he could not remember or recall the time of his passing or what it was like, he knew full well what he had been made to witness afterward was no normal vision. An experience he could best describe as a dream in which he was fully aware but could not exert any influence on. A lucid dream, he tried to tell himself, even as it had at the time felt much more like a prison. The line between reality and fiction, past and present, had been so thoroughly blurred, it was as if it had never existed at all. He could not tell in the moment when the real world came to an end and the dream began or if there was ever a difference between the two. And at the end of it all, he was left with little more than what he could only assume was supposed to be a message. A message awash in impossible colors and tangled in a web of time he could not unravel, hiding a truth he was meant to understand.
The second voice described a simple wall opposite him. A solid white near perfect square bereft of any blemish. Standing sterile and immovable and bathed in the fluorescent light of the room. It was grounding, and for all the comfort that was to be had in the land of the living, he found himself an appreciation for the simplicity of a solid shape and a solid color. It was a quiet anchor, tethering him to the real world. He clung to it, for just under his eyes danced unending the chaotic noise gifted to him that threatened to pull him under once more.
βDavon. What did you see?β
He chewed his tongue, closed his eyes and tried to concentrate, carefully allowing some of that dream to return to him. He coaxed forward a sliver of the vision through a parted sea of noise and color and time and focused on one of the few constants. Maybe the only constant: Of all the things heβd seen, there was ever only one of her.
π
βThere was aβ¦ a woman.β
βMother?β
βNoβ¦β He shook his head but furrowed his brow as if he were unsure, because although he knew the woman was not their mother, there was a strange feeling of familiarity to her that confused him. β...Uh. Not her butβ¦ I feel like I know her orβ¦ I have known her. For forever.β Again he shook his head knowing full well whatever he said, no matter how he spun it, wouldnβt make any sense. He continued nonetheless. βI canβt quite make out her face but-β
Davon paused suddenly as he felt his still feeble grip on his mind begin to slip ever so slightly. The sliver heβd created in his mindβs eye through which he was carefully peering had cracked, and the information that poured through, all of which he still could not understand, created a wall of noise. It obfuscated the truth and made more difficult his attempt at seeing clearly the woman on the other side. He flinched but continued.
βI can seeβ¦ pale skin andβ¦ bright, golden hair. There are slivers of silver light that... dance across her hair, the way light does when passing a candleβ¦ and behind her is the night sky but itβs different. Itβs alive. The stars are moving. Crashing into each other and flinging themselves into the dark. I can see twisting galaxies, and spirals of an infinity of colors mixing together to create new colors, ones Iβve never seen beforeβ¦ and all of thisβ¦ through her eyes... I see it.β
ππββππ
Davonβs chin tilted up and his eyes slowly opened to reveal pupils rolled into the back of his head.
βI see it. Through her eyes. A dance. We dance. Across time. Across Space.β
βDavon?β
βAcross a thousand deaths and a thousand lives. A thousand stars sparked between our touch. Between our fingers.β
βWoven. Intricate. Sheathed in the wrath of a supernova.β
βDavon!β
βI.________________________________________________Stopped.
________________________Never.________________________________________________________________________Searching.β
Dina grabbed his hand, interrupting his dream and pulling him violently back to reality. His eyes rolled forward as his head snapped upright, and all the color and noise violating his senses fell away, replaced with the white wall across from him.
βDavon. What the fuck. What the fuck was that?,β she asked. She watched him steady his breath and shake his head. When he finally turned away from the wall to look at her, she knew heβd see her horrified expression, but she could also see the exhaustion in his. Heβd been out for a few days and was no doubt well rested and yet, it was as if the small episode had taken its toll on him. He looked as though he hadn't slept in days.
βI donβt know. I want to say itβs a message and I want to say that every test pilot before me probably got the same message, but for whatever reason, Iβm the only one that message didnβt immediately kill. I donβt know why. All I can tell you for sure is that since then, Iβm aware of this weight in my chest. A feeling... like a want or a need that I've had for a long time."
βIt's strange. I can't tell if it's really my want or need, but I do know that whatever it is, it feels... possessive. Like whatever belonged it... or to me... whatever it was or is, I want it back.β
_
Davon was staring silently at the blank white wall on the other side of the room, unmoving and quiet as he sorted through his thoughts, chaotic as they were. Of the myriad of voices competing for space in his head, two remained the loudest. The first contemplated his rather short experience with death and the curiosity of it. He had died, he was sure. Heβd been told as much by those present when he returned. And although he could not remember or recall the time of his passing or what it was like, he knew full well what he had been made to witness afterward was no normal vision. An experience he could best describe as a dream in which he was fully aware but could not exert any influence on. A lucid dream, he tried to tell himself, even as it had at the time felt much more like a prison. The line between reality and fiction, past and present, had been so thoroughly blurred, it was as if it had never existed at all. He could not tell in the moment when the real world came to an end and the dream began or if there was ever a difference between the two. And at the end of it all, he was left with little more than what he could only assume was supposed to be a message. A message awash in impossible colors and tangled in a web of time he could not unravel, hiding a truth he was meant to understand.
The second voice described a simple wall opposite him. A solid white near perfect square bereft of any blemish. Standing sterile and immovable and bathed in the fluorescent light of the room. It was grounding, and for all the comfort that was to be had in the land of the living, he found himself an appreciation for the simplicity of a solid shape and a solid color. It was a quiet anchor, tethering him to the real world. He clung to it, for just under his eyes danced unending the chaotic noise gifted to him that threatened to pull him under once more.
βDavon. What did you see?β
He chewed his tongue, closed his eyes and tried to concentrate, carefully allowing some of that dream to return to him. He coaxed forward a sliver of the vision through a parted sea of noise and color and time and focused on one of the few constants. Maybe the only constant: Of all the things heβd seen, there was ever only one of her.
π
βThere was aβ¦ a woman.β
βMother?β
βNoβ¦β He shook his head but furrowed his brow as if he were unsure, because although he knew the woman was not their mother, there was a strange feeling of familiarity to her that confused him. β...Uh. Not her butβ¦ I feel like I know her orβ¦ I have known her. For forever.β Again he shook his head knowing full well whatever he said, no matter how he spun it, wouldnβt make any sense. He continued nonetheless. βI canβt quite make out her face but-β
Davon paused suddenly as he felt his still feeble grip on his mind begin to slip ever so slightly. The sliver heβd created in his mindβs eye through which he was carefully peering had cracked, and the information that poured through, all of which he still could not understand, created a wall of noise. It obfuscated the truth and made more difficult his attempt at seeing clearly the woman on the other side. He flinched but continued.
βI can seeβ¦ pale skin andβ¦ bright, golden hair. There are slivers of silver light that... dance across her hair, the way light does when passing a candleβ¦ and behind her is the night sky but itβs different. Itβs alive. The stars are moving. Crashing into each other and flinging themselves into the dark. I can see twisting galaxies, and spirals of an infinity of colors mixing together to create new colors, ones Iβve never seen beforeβ¦ and all of thisβ¦ through her eyes... I see it.β
ππββππ
Davonβs chin tilted up and his eyes slowly opened to reveal pupils rolled into the back of his head.
βI see it. Through her eyes. A dance. We dance. Across time. Across Space.β
βDavon?β
βAcross a thousand deaths and a thousand lives. A thousand stars sparked between our touch. Between our fingers.β
ππππππ
βWoven. Intricate. Sheathed in the wrath of a supernova.β
βDavon!β
βI.________________________________________________Stopped.
π_____π_____π_____π_____π_____π
________________________Never.________________________________________________________________________Searching.β
Dina grabbed his hand, interrupting his dream and pulling him violently back to reality. His eyes rolled forward as his head snapped upright, and all the color and noise violating his senses fell away, replaced with the white wall across from him.
βDavon. What the fuck. What the fuck was that?,β she asked. She watched him steady his breath and shake his head. When he finally turned away from the wall to look at her, she knew heβd see her horrified expression, but she could also see the exhaustion in his. Heβd been out for a few days and was no doubt well rested and yet, it was as if the small episode had taken its toll on him. He looked as though he hadn't slept in days.
βI donβt know. I want to say itβs a message and I want to say that every test pilot before me probably got the same message, but for whatever reason, Iβm the only one that message didnβt immediately kill. I donβt know why. All I can tell you for sure is that since then, Iβm aware of this weight in my chest. A feeling... like a want or a need that I've had for a long time."
βIt's strange. I can't tell if it's really my want or need, but I do know that whatever it is, it feels... possessive. Like whatever belonged it... or to me... whatever it was or is, I want it back.β
_
present day...
| β V I R E L O C K S T E P S > current_position: 17Β°03β²26.44β³S 28Β°55β²38.21β³E _______________________________________________________________________________ > enuan::shodea::talour::09:46 |
βZero-one. This is Javelin. Cargo check.β
βCheck.β
βWe areβ¦ two mikes out from the drop. Winds are steady going two-seven-zero at fifteen knots.β
βCopy that, Javelin. Window?β
βWindow is good. Drop zone green. Sending final target. Please confirm.β
Davon's eyes snapped to the translucent window that appeared in the empty space in front of him, the edges of which framed in thin light Enuan coastline. Near the shore over a space of open water was a visible red marker, roughly a mile away from shore, indicating where he was meant to deploy. The plan was to drop in hard and fast with the hope that a quick insertion and approach by water would help to delay his detection, though βdelayβ was a stretch. Shodea intervention was inevitable, he knew, as he was sure theyβd be alerted to his presence shortly after the drop. The aircraft too would be picked up on approach if it hadnβt been already. Despite the airspace it was currently operating in technically being neutral, their projected path was highly irregular and took them too close to the shore of the foreign continent to be ignored. It alone would solicit a swift response from Shodea. The nation's defense apparatus and response systems were, afterall, robust and had been a veritable thorn in the side of every war room assembly that, to the day, continued to seek more efficient means to penetrate it with a large force. Not to mention there was the oracle herself.
Davon knew he could rely on the element of surprise for only so long before the entire nation was brought down upon him. Even less time given they too would have been alerted to the destruction of the fishing village. He could only hope that heβd have enough time to do what he needed and that Shodea would see his arrival on their shores as nothing less than altruistic, even as a part of him was hard pressed to believe they'd believe him.
βDrop confirmed,β Davon replied.
The image flickered and disappeared, casting Davon back into the familiar dim light of the pilotβs bay, the muted sounds of a turbulent airstream and the trembling cage of metal wrapped around him his only indication that he and the aircraft he was attached to were still moving. It was in this isolation where he spent the majority of the flight, suspended as he was within a metal dome near its center, the boundary of which was described by the hexagonal panels stitched together by azonite ingots. Davon himself was restrained within a βcradleβ, or so they called it; a frame of metal tracing behind his arms and legs and where at the end were placed his hands and feet into a device that read complicated inputs. Attached to his back via a series of thick straps and buckles was a fitted brace, also metal, that looped up and under his inner thighs. It was here where the majority of his weight was supported and was also where the most important connection between himself and the frame was made.
The system, by which the majority of the pilotβs input and vitals were collected, remained light weight without sacrificing durability. And while Davon was appreciative of its ability to replicate to near perfection almost the entire range of his physical movement, he did not appreciate what he had to give for it. Lining the interior of the brace were a series of thin needles, one of which was inserted into a miniscule hole in the base of his neck. While the pain alone was intense but ultimately something Davon had eventually gotten used to, the invasion of his mind, which was facilitated by this needle, was not so easily welcomed, especially considering he was already sharing that space with something else.
Davon was never alone in his thoughts, even cocooned as he was within that carefully woven tapestry of metal and machinery. He had learned early on that the space he inhabited was not one of privacy and the moment he stepped foot within the frame, the moment that needle slid into the back of his neck, was the moment a hundred watchful eyes turned to him. Each pair of eyes were silent spectators in the dark. Each one measuring his vitals or recording everything he saw. Each one rifling through lines of code and a never ending feed of data to find the story of him as he was in that moment. But as numerous as they were, there was only one that left Davon feeling uneasy and it was the only one he knew did not belong to Aventhal. This other, more complicated entity, remained apart from the rest. It intertwined its probing with Davonβs thoughts, twisting its voice with his ideas and fears and threading them into whispers that echoed endlessly within that dark chamber. It painted for him a picture in his mindβs eye across an ever chaotic canvas; a forever retelling of that nightmarish vision from before.
By now heβd gotten much better at parsing through the noise of color and sound and in time he was able to interpret some of what this voice was trying to say. It was no longer like it had been before, where flashes of lights and colors smashed into each other in the most chaotic and vivid of dreams. Now instead, it was as if he were looking through a pinhole at another life, snippets of which were given to him but never the full picture. Like stills they were, burning themselves into his memories until they persisted even when he closed his eyes. And it was here where he found his unease, for as these memories persisted, the more difficult it became for him to distinguish them apart from his own past. These memories, whether real or a part of some other βthingβsβ dream, were being carved into him. Images of a person, or more specifically a woman, who had become an unmistakable weight in his chest. Like a thread that was drawn between himself and her that had been pulled tight. In every message, in every dream, she was undoubtedly the most vivid part of it.
βZero-one. One mike out to drop. Final check.β
βStand by, Javelin.β
Davon pressed down on the pedals beneath his feat and jammed the controls in his hands fully forward and back, eliciting an immediate response from the cradle and the surrounding dome. What had once been opaque panels flashed a bright white as each one began initialization. Shortly after, each panel changed from a blinding white to the hexagonal window through which the Western edge of the Sundered Sea could be seen. Stretched out far below Davon was an expanse of familiar blue pressed against the jagged green edge that was Enuan coastline. Each tile together created a near 360Β° field of view, blocked only by the nephilimβs own structure above, below and directly behind the pilot. The cradle beneath Davon lurched forward and tilted slightly back to adjust for the frameβs currently horizontal position. It too began to press into Davonβs feet and hands providing some feedback that he adjusted for. In short time, he acclimated to the resistance and could feel, through tactile feedback, the push of the air stream and the pull of gravity on the nephilim frame itself. Finally, he pressed a series of buttons in the controls in his hands and the in the empty space surrounding him between himself and the dome, test flashes of light and text appeared and then disappeared. A small visual test ensuring the display matrix system Davon was suspended inside of was working as intended.
"Final check complete."
βCopy, Zero-one. Thirty seconds to drop. Stand by.β
"Initializing matrix and standing by."
π
...No. You can stay the fuck out of my head right now...
Davon ignored the familiar probing and activated his UI. The empty space around him began to populate with walls of text and data. Everything from his current altitude to the integrity of the hull to his currently available levels of power and remaining repair systems. There was a number floating in the bottom right of his periphery indicating the estimated time-of-arrival of his closest ARM. Should he deem it necessary, he could have one delivered in short time to his position, though he was sure there would be no need to carry on him so destructive a weapon.
βFifteen seconds.β
ππββππ
This time, the other voice did not ask, ignoring Davonβs protest and assaulting his senses with visions of what was now a familiar dream yet again, though it was changed somewhat. What had previously been a darkened sky, crowded by the lights of a million stars, was now clear. Replaced by a soft blue sky dotted in sparse cloud cover that drifted under the light of an unseen sun. The woman from before was here again too, still rooted to the same spot she was, though her eyes were no longer obscured. Clear as they were now, their true color was visible to Davon as a beautiful pale purple. It was a hue was sure heβd never seen before, save from one very distinct individual. There was no mistaking the features of the woman standing tall before him, but seeing her now in his mind's eye left him with an uneasy feeling. Her eyes, beautiful as they were, were no longer looking through him to something else, parsing the horizon for something known only to her. They instead remained fixed on him. Seeing him. Watching him. A gaze that saw all leaving him exposed.
He realized in that moment that his fears had been founded. Of all of the layers of defensive measures Shodea brought to bear in defense of her kingdoms, it was the enigmatic Oracle herself that was the first to detect his arrival. Or perhaps she'd known all along and Aventhal had sent the heir to their kingdom into the house of the enemy blind.
βDrop!β
The pins holding the nephilim frame to the aircraft were released. Gravity pushed down on Davon's chest, slamming him into the cradle. He felt his stomach turn in his abdomen and his chest tighten.
_
βCheck.β
βWe areβ¦ two mikes out from the drop. Winds are steady going two-seven-zero at fifteen knots.β
βCopy that, Javelin. Window?β
βWindow is good. Drop zone green. Sending final target. Please confirm.β
Davon's eyes snapped to the translucent window that appeared in the empty space in front of him, the edges of which framed in thin light Enuan coastline. Near the shore over a space of open water was a visible red marker, roughly a mile away from shore, indicating where he was meant to deploy. The plan was to drop in hard and fast with the hope that a quick insertion and approach by water would help to delay his detection, though βdelayβ was a stretch. Shodea intervention was inevitable, he knew, as he was sure theyβd be alerted to his presence shortly after the drop. The aircraft too would be picked up on approach if it hadnβt been already. Despite the airspace it was currently operating in technically being neutral, their projected path was highly irregular and took them too close to the shore of the foreign continent to be ignored. It alone would solicit a swift response from Shodea. The nation's defense apparatus and response systems were, afterall, robust and had been a veritable thorn in the side of every war room assembly that, to the day, continued to seek more efficient means to penetrate it with a large force. Not to mention there was the oracle herself.
Davon knew he could rely on the element of surprise for only so long before the entire nation was brought down upon him. Even less time given they too would have been alerted to the destruction of the fishing village. He could only hope that heβd have enough time to do what he needed and that Shodea would see his arrival on their shores as nothing less than altruistic, even as a part of him was hard pressed to believe they'd believe him.
βDrop confirmed,β Davon replied.
The image flickered and disappeared, casting Davon back into the familiar dim light of the pilotβs bay, the muted sounds of a turbulent airstream and the trembling cage of metal wrapped around him his only indication that he and the aircraft he was attached to were still moving. It was in this isolation where he spent the majority of the flight, suspended as he was within a metal dome near its center, the boundary of which was described by the hexagonal panels stitched together by azonite ingots. Davon himself was restrained within a βcradleβ, or so they called it; a frame of metal tracing behind his arms and legs and where at the end were placed his hands and feet into a device that read complicated inputs. Attached to his back via a series of thick straps and buckles was a fitted brace, also metal, that looped up and under his inner thighs. It was here where the majority of his weight was supported and was also where the most important connection between himself and the frame was made.
The system, by which the majority of the pilotβs input and vitals were collected, remained light weight without sacrificing durability. And while Davon was appreciative of its ability to replicate to near perfection almost the entire range of his physical movement, he did not appreciate what he had to give for it. Lining the interior of the brace were a series of thin needles, one of which was inserted into a miniscule hole in the base of his neck. While the pain alone was intense but ultimately something Davon had eventually gotten used to, the invasion of his mind, which was facilitated by this needle, was not so easily welcomed, especially considering he was already sharing that space with something else.
Davon was never alone in his thoughts, even cocooned as he was within that carefully woven tapestry of metal and machinery. He had learned early on that the space he inhabited was not one of privacy and the moment he stepped foot within the frame, the moment that needle slid into the back of his neck, was the moment a hundred watchful eyes turned to him. Each pair of eyes were silent spectators in the dark. Each one measuring his vitals or recording everything he saw. Each one rifling through lines of code and a never ending feed of data to find the story of him as he was in that moment. But as numerous as they were, there was only one that left Davon feeling uneasy and it was the only one he knew did not belong to Aventhal. This other, more complicated entity, remained apart from the rest. It intertwined its probing with Davonβs thoughts, twisting its voice with his ideas and fears and threading them into whispers that echoed endlessly within that dark chamber. It painted for him a picture in his mindβs eye across an ever chaotic canvas; a forever retelling of that nightmarish vision from before.
By now heβd gotten much better at parsing through the noise of color and sound and in time he was able to interpret some of what this voice was trying to say. It was no longer like it had been before, where flashes of lights and colors smashed into each other in the most chaotic and vivid of dreams. Now instead, it was as if he were looking through a pinhole at another life, snippets of which were given to him but never the full picture. Like stills they were, burning themselves into his memories until they persisted even when he closed his eyes. And it was here where he found his unease, for as these memories persisted, the more difficult it became for him to distinguish them apart from his own past. These memories, whether real or a part of some other βthingβsβ dream, were being carved into him. Images of a person, or more specifically a woman, who had become an unmistakable weight in his chest. Like a thread that was drawn between himself and her that had been pulled tight. In every message, in every dream, she was undoubtedly the most vivid part of it.
βZero-one. One mike out to drop. Final check.β
βStand by, Javelin.β
Davon pressed down on the pedals beneath his feat and jammed the controls in his hands fully forward and back, eliciting an immediate response from the cradle and the surrounding dome. What had once been opaque panels flashed a bright white as each one began initialization. Shortly after, each panel changed from a blinding white to the hexagonal window through which the Western edge of the Sundered Sea could be seen. Stretched out far below Davon was an expanse of familiar blue pressed against the jagged green edge that was Enuan coastline. Each tile together created a near 360Β° field of view, blocked only by the nephilimβs own structure above, below and directly behind the pilot. The cradle beneath Davon lurched forward and tilted slightly back to adjust for the frameβs currently horizontal position. It too began to press into Davonβs feet and hands providing some feedback that he adjusted for. In short time, he acclimated to the resistance and could feel, through tactile feedback, the push of the air stream and the pull of gravity on the nephilim frame itself. Finally, he pressed a series of buttons in the controls in his hands and the in the empty space surrounding him between himself and the dome, test flashes of light and text appeared and then disappeared. A small visual test ensuring the display matrix system Davon was suspended inside of was working as intended.
"Final check complete."
βCopy, Zero-one. Thirty seconds to drop. Stand by.β
"Initializing matrix and standing by."
π
...No. You can stay the fuck out of my head right now...
Davon ignored the familiar probing and activated his UI. The empty space around him began to populate with walls of text and data. Everything from his current altitude to the integrity of the hull to his currently available levels of power and remaining repair systems. There was a number floating in the bottom right of his periphery indicating the estimated time-of-arrival of his closest ARM. Should he deem it necessary, he could have one delivered in short time to his position, though he was sure there would be no need to carry on him so destructive a weapon.
βFifteen seconds.β
ππββππ
This time, the other voice did not ask, ignoring Davonβs protest and assaulting his senses with visions of what was now a familiar dream yet again, though it was changed somewhat. What had previously been a darkened sky, crowded by the lights of a million stars, was now clear. Replaced by a soft blue sky dotted in sparse cloud cover that drifted under the light of an unseen sun. The woman from before was here again too, still rooted to the same spot she was, though her eyes were no longer obscured. Clear as they were now, their true color was visible to Davon as a beautiful pale purple. It was a hue was sure heβd never seen before, save from one very distinct individual. There was no mistaking the features of the woman standing tall before him, but seeing her now in his mind's eye left him with an uneasy feeling. Her eyes, beautiful as they were, were no longer looking through him to something else, parsing the horizon for something known only to her. They instead remained fixed on him. Seeing him. Watching him. A gaze that saw all leaving him exposed.
He realized in that moment that his fears had been founded. Of all of the layers of defensive measures Shodea brought to bear in defense of her kingdoms, it was the enigmatic Oracle herself that was the first to detect his arrival. Or perhaps she'd known all along and Aventhal had sent the heir to their kingdom into the house of the enemy blind.
βDrop!β
The pins holding the nephilim frame to the aircraft were released. Gravity pushed down on Davon's chest, slamming him into the cradle. He felt his stomach turn in his abdomen and his chest tighten.
_
| β W A R R O O M > current_position: 62Β°44β²05.18β³N 118Β°55β²38.21β³E _______________________________________________________________________________ > valaria::aventhal::aven::16:25 |
Dina crossed the busy room toward the holographic display floating in the center. Standing next to it was a man, well into his sixties, who was staring intently at images and lengths of text floating above the Enuan projection. Despite his age, he stood tall and intent, and despite the relatively busy air of the room surrounding him, remained focused and presentable. Each strand of short white air on his head remained exactly where he had placed it. Every seam and fold and thread describing the shape of the manβs dress was deliberate, neat and clean. He too stood with a purpose with hands clasped firmly behind him and his body almost completely still as he scoured every bit of data he was presented, only allowing his head to move on a stiff swivel. Dina could feel the attention the man commanded and the decorum he remained committed to, something that felt somehow tangible in the air in any room he he was in. She also knew well the manβs exploits and fully understood the power the man commanded at his station and the strength of wisdom the man possessed. It was no wonder he led Aven's military and was selected to oversee the first official deployment of their Nephilim.
βSir Emerick,β she began, stopping next to him and looking over the recreation of a coastline a thousand miles away. βHow are we doing?β
βLady Asmodan. Things are proceeding smoothly, though what weβve discovered so far is troubling.β He waved to the side some of the information in the air and pulled to the front images that were recently taken. In it, Talourβs suffering was made abundantly clear. Infrastructure was destroyed, either burned or toppled to the ground, and there were bodies left lying in the streets. So far, at least from the town itself, there were no obvious signs of who or what could have been responsible for the attack. It also became obvious that whoever or whatever was responsible sowed destruction aimlessly, destroying and killing without prejudice. It read as an attack on Talour, sure, but it also seemed too absolute. Too exacting simply for the sake of it. It did not make sense as there was nothing to gain, strategically or otherwise, from razing the small town.
Off to the side separated just so from the other images was another, not of Talour, but of a peculiar shape pressed into a large patch of dirt.
βWhat is that?β
_
βSir Emerick,β she began, stopping next to him and looking over the recreation of a coastline a thousand miles away. βHow are we doing?β
βLady Asmodan. Things are proceeding smoothly, though what weβve discovered so far is troubling.β He waved to the side some of the information in the air and pulled to the front images that were recently taken. In it, Talourβs suffering was made abundantly clear. Infrastructure was destroyed, either burned or toppled to the ground, and there were bodies left lying in the streets. So far, at least from the town itself, there were no obvious signs of who or what could have been responsible for the attack. It also became obvious that whoever or whatever was responsible sowed destruction aimlessly, destroying and killing without prejudice. It read as an attack on Talour, sure, but it also seemed too absolute. Too exacting simply for the sake of it. It did not make sense as there was nothing to gain, strategically or otherwise, from razing the small town.
Off to the side separated just so from the other images was another, not of Talour, but of a peculiar shape pressed into a large patch of dirt.
βWhat is that?β
_
| β V I R E L O C K S T E P S > current_position: 17Β°03β²26.44β³S 28Β°55β²38.21β³E _______________________________________________________________________________ > enuan::shodea::talour::10:26 |
...No idea...
Davon stared down at the shape in the ground; a very distinct outline of what appeared to be a footprint of sorts, at least that's what he assumed it had to be. There was nothing else that could have made such an indent. Left by some creature that he was convinced was the culprit of the attack though as it stood, neither he nor anyone from Aventhal had been able to identify the creature the print belonged to. And it wasnβt for a lack of knowledge. Databases from both countries on the wider worldβs fauna were thorough and meticulously kept and had been for years. Their catalogues spanned centuries of research, collected and collaborated across multiple peoples and yet there was no match to what they had discovered. Not even close. Not in Aventhalβs records nor what they themselves recorded from the pieces of Shodeaβs knowledge bank theyβd glimpsed. And it wasnβt just the shape that was peculiar, but what they could only assume was the beastβs size. Comparable creatures did not dwell on land.
πββπ
Davon scanned another set of prints following the first and eyed the path it took through a swathe of forest ahead. The trees seemed to have been pushed to the side and those inbetween had been trampled.
βCAPCOM, Zero-one."
"Go, Zeron-one.
"The tracks are leading away from the village. Still no signs of any survivors. I can push further inland, but I am approaching Shodea territory.β
Inside the dome and visible only to Davon was a translucent red demarcation wall that marked the official boundary between neutral and occupied land, less than a mile away from his current position. It wasnβt a physical wall, but it was very easily visible so there was no mistaking where Davon could and could not go, though the point was mostly moot given his presence would already be an issue. Generally speaking, all of Enuan was seen as belonging to Shodea as the balance of power weighed so heavily in the nationβs favor that any villages or towns lying in the outskirts could not object to their rule even if they were opposed. Him remaining outside the 'official' boundary would mean little and sticking to the proposed plan was the only way they could possibly explain his presence.
βIs pursuit advised?β
βStandby, Zero-one.β
βStanding by.β
Davon relaxed on the controls and took a moment, one of many heβd already taken, to observe his surroundings. More accurately, he was admiring a rare sight indeed for those who called his half of the world home. Standing well above the surrounding tree lines, though the various hills and mountains surrounding him did obscure much of his line of sight, what he could see was beautiful. Sunkissed lands swept in the deepest shades of green and mountain tops that struck at the sky and glinted in sharp light as the sun reflected snowcapped spires. They had nothing of the sort back home where he and others had to find the beauty hidden away beneath a surface of unforgiving land scarred by the wind. Seas of dust that swallowed whole fields in its shadow, scrubbing away what life clung desperately to the rocks and dirt. Where Aventhal hid her treasures, Shodea had it in abundance and gave it freely to her children. The black silhouette of his nephilim, struck against the hill he stood on was an insult to the land itself, he was sure, and a part of him hated himself for it. Another part of him remembered why he was in the frame in the first place. The real reason why he was here, standing on fertile ground that did not belong to him. Why he was searching between the trees for any survivors from Talour with whom he might convene.
As luck would have it, movement, captured by his frames UI, was detected only a hundred or so yards from his position. Something small was scrambling through the brush off to the side of the path Davon had been following. He immediately began moving toward it, being careful to navigating his frame over and through the canopy of trees in an effort to limit the damage to the environment left from moving so massive a machine through it. As he approached, his frame was able to map out a rough shape of the target, generated from its intermittently visible heat signature as it continued to move. It was a human. A child.
βCAPCOM. Be advised. I believe Iβve found a survivor. It looks to be a child. Moving to intercept.β
"Copy that, Zero-one. Command also advises to steer clear of the border after retrieval of the child. Do not pursue the 'unknown' further inland. It is no longer our problem."
"Solid copy."
It only took Davon a couple of steps to close the gap between himself and the child, but as he approached, he became aware of the fact that despite his intention being rescue, whoever it was down there would not see it as such. As far as they were probably concerned, Davon and the massive machine he was in was there to finish the job. Not to mention, this was officially the first time a Nephilim frame had been deployed anywhere other than around its home base. There was a good chance that someone from a small fishing town had never seen or even heard of one before, especially a child. Some amount of caution and care would have to be taken to retrieve the person.
Before moving any closer, Davon activated the frameβs PA system.
βDo not be afraid, I am here to help,β heβd tried to say, though the nephilimβs voice modulation system altered his intended tone. What came out was deep and menacing, mechanical and heavy in the air as the manufactured voice vibrated nearby trees and rocks. The sound that resonated off the face of the nearby mountain was significantly less than pleasant. Despite this, Davon tried a second time with little to no change. The child, understandably, refused to acknowledge him or his message, choosing instead to run. They clambered over felled logs and across jagged rocks and continued moving ever closer to the Shodea demarcation line.
Davon shook his head. He could not afford to be patient. There was too much at stake and too much he didnβt know and the sooner he could find the answers to his questions, the better. He had to retrieve the child before they crossed the boundary. βFuck this.β
Davon reached down with the blade of the frameβs hand, driving the edge into the dirt just ahead of the child and carefully scooping them up along with a large handful of earth. Taking extra care not to move too quickly or shift the mound of dirt around in his palm, lest the child be buried and crushed or suffocated, he brought them up to his chest some 100 feet or so above the ground so they could speak clearly face to face. He was met with the unbridled scream of a terrified little girl, frozen in the center of his open fist and having curled into her knees with her arms pinned to either side of her head. She refused to look up at him, or rather the 'face' of his nephilim.
Davon noticed that attached to a lock of hair on the back of her head was a peculiar looking trinket of sorts: a sliver of pale white material that looked like the splinter of a bone. It shimmered in the light of the sun, throwing glints of silver in the air and reflecting it into the girlβs hair. It was not unlike the glow of silver in the hair of the woman trapped in his visions.
Davon pulled free his right hand and reached between his legs where under the brace was an emergency lever meant to open the pilotβs deck. Pulling down on it with enough force would open the canopy, allowing him to see the girl with his own eyes and more importantly, allow the girl to see him. The face plate attached to the head of the frame hissed gas from a now exposed seam before pulling away from the cavity within and sliding vertically up. Behind it, the truth of the massive machine she found herself in the clutches of was revealed to her: beneath the metal and mystery of the towering giant before her, there was nothing more than a man underneath.
βItβs alright, itβs alright! Youβre safe! You donβt have to be afraid,β he called out to her over the sound of the wind and her sobbing. βIβm here to rescue you!β
The sobbing stifled some and the girl tentatively turned her head just enough to peer at him through the fold in her arm. Davon could see clearly, even from under her cowered position, the stains on her flushed cheeks and the fear in her eyes. He could only imagine what she must have been through and what must be going through her mind now, suspended as she was in the air and in the hand of a giant. Any other time heβd move to console the girl, but he could not so easily remove himself manually from the brace he was attached too, only to then immediately climb back in. It was too dangerous to exit the frame in this way when there was still danger lurking, so he would have to resign himself to what distant comfort he could provide.
βCan you tell me what happened?β
The girl, now trying to fight back the tears still bubbling under her eyes, remained silent for a moment before yelling out a reply. βW-who are you?!β
βMy name is Davon. I am a prince sent here to help. But for me to do that, I need to know what happened here.β
βA prince?!β She yelled again in disbelief. She was no longer openly sobbing, but was still having to throw her voice over the wind that swept easily across the top of the canopy below them.
βYes, Prince Davon Asmodon. What is your name?β
The girl finally raised her head and wiped some of the tears from her eyes before answering again. The pale white trinket in her hair danced wildly in the wind. βNiah!β
βNiah. A beautiful name for a strong girl, and a brave one at that for seeking shelter in the forest.β The hand where the girl was perched moved once again, lifting her slightly higher and little closer to the open cavity of the nephilimβs head. The suddenness of it caught the girl off guard and she stumbled a bit but didnβt hide away, instead bracing her weight and finding her balance until the hand stopped and she was now standing before her mysterious savior. βListen Niah. I need your help. I need you to be brave for a little while longer, okay? Can you tell me what happened? Can you tell me whoβ¦ or what did this?β
Niah rubbed at her eyes and nodded. βIt took papa.β
βIt did? What did?β
βThe monster.β
βCan you tell me what the monster looked like?β
πββπ
Before she could answer, without warning, the canopy of the nephilim frame slammed shut between them. It resealed itself, isolating Davon from the outside world before he could react or even register what was happening. Through the dome, he could see clearly the surprise in Niahβs eyes and watched as that surprise turned to horror when she noticed something moving behind Davon. Before Davon could see what it was for himself, a sound, like the crack of thunder, erupted within the pilot deck as something slammed into him from behind. Immediately, the dome flooded with red light as multiple critical alert messages appeared in the empty space around him, each one indicating a failure in a number of systems and subsystems while the more important ones indicated catastrophic damage to the frameβs center mass. Sure enough, when Davon looked down at the belly of his nephilim, he noticed an appendage, one he'd never seen before, protruding through a ruptured metal abdominal plate. The barbed tip had pierced clean through him, compromising reinforced azonite metal as if it were paper and throwing chunks of debris into the surrounding forest and hills.
As the appendage attempted to pull back through the hole it created, the barbed tip dug itself further into Davon's already destroyed armor, further damaging it and before latching onto it as well as bone buried itself into the surrounding metal. Davon closed both hands protectively over the little girl just as he felt himself being taken to the ground.
_
Davon stared down at the shape in the ground; a very distinct outline of what appeared to be a footprint of sorts, at least that's what he assumed it had to be. There was nothing else that could have made such an indent. Left by some creature that he was convinced was the culprit of the attack though as it stood, neither he nor anyone from Aventhal had been able to identify the creature the print belonged to. And it wasnβt for a lack of knowledge. Databases from both countries on the wider worldβs fauna were thorough and meticulously kept and had been for years. Their catalogues spanned centuries of research, collected and collaborated across multiple peoples and yet there was no match to what they had discovered. Not even close. Not in Aventhalβs records nor what they themselves recorded from the pieces of Shodeaβs knowledge bank theyβd glimpsed. And it wasnβt just the shape that was peculiar, but what they could only assume was the beastβs size. Comparable creatures did not dwell on land.
πββπ
Davon scanned another set of prints following the first and eyed the path it took through a swathe of forest ahead. The trees seemed to have been pushed to the side and those inbetween had been trampled.
βCAPCOM, Zero-one."
"Go, Zeron-one.
"The tracks are leading away from the village. Still no signs of any survivors. I can push further inland, but I am approaching Shodea territory.β
Inside the dome and visible only to Davon was a translucent red demarcation wall that marked the official boundary between neutral and occupied land, less than a mile away from his current position. It wasnβt a physical wall, but it was very easily visible so there was no mistaking where Davon could and could not go, though the point was mostly moot given his presence would already be an issue. Generally speaking, all of Enuan was seen as belonging to Shodea as the balance of power weighed so heavily in the nationβs favor that any villages or towns lying in the outskirts could not object to their rule even if they were opposed. Him remaining outside the 'official' boundary would mean little and sticking to the proposed plan was the only way they could possibly explain his presence.
βIs pursuit advised?β
βStandby, Zero-one.β
βStanding by.β
Davon relaxed on the controls and took a moment, one of many heβd already taken, to observe his surroundings. More accurately, he was admiring a rare sight indeed for those who called his half of the world home. Standing well above the surrounding tree lines, though the various hills and mountains surrounding him did obscure much of his line of sight, what he could see was beautiful. Sunkissed lands swept in the deepest shades of green and mountain tops that struck at the sky and glinted in sharp light as the sun reflected snowcapped spires. They had nothing of the sort back home where he and others had to find the beauty hidden away beneath a surface of unforgiving land scarred by the wind. Seas of dust that swallowed whole fields in its shadow, scrubbing away what life clung desperately to the rocks and dirt. Where Aventhal hid her treasures, Shodea had it in abundance and gave it freely to her children. The black silhouette of his nephilim, struck against the hill he stood on was an insult to the land itself, he was sure, and a part of him hated himself for it. Another part of him remembered why he was in the frame in the first place. The real reason why he was here, standing on fertile ground that did not belong to him. Why he was searching between the trees for any survivors from Talour with whom he might convene.
As luck would have it, movement, captured by his frames UI, was detected only a hundred or so yards from his position. Something small was scrambling through the brush off to the side of the path Davon had been following. He immediately began moving toward it, being careful to navigating his frame over and through the canopy of trees in an effort to limit the damage to the environment left from moving so massive a machine through it. As he approached, his frame was able to map out a rough shape of the target, generated from its intermittently visible heat signature as it continued to move. It was a human. A child.
βCAPCOM. Be advised. I believe Iβve found a survivor. It looks to be a child. Moving to intercept.β
"Copy that, Zero-one. Command also advises to steer clear of the border after retrieval of the child. Do not pursue the 'unknown' further inland. It is no longer our problem."
"Solid copy."
It only took Davon a couple of steps to close the gap between himself and the child, but as he approached, he became aware of the fact that despite his intention being rescue, whoever it was down there would not see it as such. As far as they were probably concerned, Davon and the massive machine he was in was there to finish the job. Not to mention, this was officially the first time a Nephilim frame had been deployed anywhere other than around its home base. There was a good chance that someone from a small fishing town had never seen or even heard of one before, especially a child. Some amount of caution and care would have to be taken to retrieve the person.
Before moving any closer, Davon activated the frameβs PA system.
βDo not be afraid, I am here to help,β heβd tried to say, though the nephilimβs voice modulation system altered his intended tone. What came out was deep and menacing, mechanical and heavy in the air as the manufactured voice vibrated nearby trees and rocks. The sound that resonated off the face of the nearby mountain was significantly less than pleasant. Despite this, Davon tried a second time with little to no change. The child, understandably, refused to acknowledge him or his message, choosing instead to run. They clambered over felled logs and across jagged rocks and continued moving ever closer to the Shodea demarcation line.
Davon shook his head. He could not afford to be patient. There was too much at stake and too much he didnβt know and the sooner he could find the answers to his questions, the better. He had to retrieve the child before they crossed the boundary. βFuck this.β
Davon reached down with the blade of the frameβs hand, driving the edge into the dirt just ahead of the child and carefully scooping them up along with a large handful of earth. Taking extra care not to move too quickly or shift the mound of dirt around in his palm, lest the child be buried and crushed or suffocated, he brought them up to his chest some 100 feet or so above the ground so they could speak clearly face to face. He was met with the unbridled scream of a terrified little girl, frozen in the center of his open fist and having curled into her knees with her arms pinned to either side of her head. She refused to look up at him, or rather the 'face' of his nephilim.
Davon noticed that attached to a lock of hair on the back of her head was a peculiar looking trinket of sorts: a sliver of pale white material that looked like the splinter of a bone. It shimmered in the light of the sun, throwing glints of silver in the air and reflecting it into the girlβs hair. It was not unlike the glow of silver in the hair of the woman trapped in his visions.
Davon pulled free his right hand and reached between his legs where under the brace was an emergency lever meant to open the pilotβs deck. Pulling down on it with enough force would open the canopy, allowing him to see the girl with his own eyes and more importantly, allow the girl to see him. The face plate attached to the head of the frame hissed gas from a now exposed seam before pulling away from the cavity within and sliding vertically up. Behind it, the truth of the massive machine she found herself in the clutches of was revealed to her: beneath the metal and mystery of the towering giant before her, there was nothing more than a man underneath.
βItβs alright, itβs alright! Youβre safe! You donβt have to be afraid,β he called out to her over the sound of the wind and her sobbing. βIβm here to rescue you!β
The sobbing stifled some and the girl tentatively turned her head just enough to peer at him through the fold in her arm. Davon could see clearly, even from under her cowered position, the stains on her flushed cheeks and the fear in her eyes. He could only imagine what she must have been through and what must be going through her mind now, suspended as she was in the air and in the hand of a giant. Any other time heβd move to console the girl, but he could not so easily remove himself manually from the brace he was attached too, only to then immediately climb back in. It was too dangerous to exit the frame in this way when there was still danger lurking, so he would have to resign himself to what distant comfort he could provide.
βCan you tell me what happened?β
The girl, now trying to fight back the tears still bubbling under her eyes, remained silent for a moment before yelling out a reply. βW-who are you?!β
βMy name is Davon. I am a prince sent here to help. But for me to do that, I need to know what happened here.β
βA prince?!β She yelled again in disbelief. She was no longer openly sobbing, but was still having to throw her voice over the wind that swept easily across the top of the canopy below them.
βYes, Prince Davon Asmodon. What is your name?β
The girl finally raised her head and wiped some of the tears from her eyes before answering again. The pale white trinket in her hair danced wildly in the wind. βNiah!β
βNiah. A beautiful name for a strong girl, and a brave one at that for seeking shelter in the forest.β The hand where the girl was perched moved once again, lifting her slightly higher and little closer to the open cavity of the nephilimβs head. The suddenness of it caught the girl off guard and she stumbled a bit but didnβt hide away, instead bracing her weight and finding her balance until the hand stopped and she was now standing before her mysterious savior. βListen Niah. I need your help. I need you to be brave for a little while longer, okay? Can you tell me what happened? Can you tell me whoβ¦ or what did this?β
Niah rubbed at her eyes and nodded. βIt took papa.β
βIt did? What did?β
βThe monster.β
βCan you tell me what the monster looked like?β
πββπ
Before she could answer, without warning, the canopy of the nephilim frame slammed shut between them. It resealed itself, isolating Davon from the outside world before he could react or even register what was happening. Through the dome, he could see clearly the surprise in Niahβs eyes and watched as that surprise turned to horror when she noticed something moving behind Davon. Before Davon could see what it was for himself, a sound, like the crack of thunder, erupted within the pilot deck as something slammed into him from behind. Immediately, the dome flooded with red light as multiple critical alert messages appeared in the empty space around him, each one indicating a failure in a number of systems and subsystems while the more important ones indicated catastrophic damage to the frameβs center mass. Sure enough, when Davon looked down at the belly of his nephilim, he noticed an appendage, one he'd never seen before, protruding through a ruptured metal abdominal plate. The barbed tip had pierced clean through him, compromising reinforced azonite metal as if it were paper and throwing chunks of debris into the surrounding forest and hills.
As the appendage attempted to pull back through the hole it created, the barbed tip dug itself further into Davon's already destroyed armor, further damaging it and before latching onto it as well as bone buried itself into the surrounding metal. Davon closed both hands protectively over the little girl just as he felt himself being taken to the ground.
_
| β W A R R O O M > current_position: 62Β°44β²05.18β³N 118Β°55β²38.21β³E _______________________________________________________________________________ > valaria::aventhal::aven::16:31 |
βEECOM, report.β
βMassive damage to abdominal plating. Power systems are holding steady but we've lost a battery cell and there is a fuel leak from auxiliary tank two.β
βCommand, CAPCOM.β
βCopy EECOM. Go CAPCOM.β
βPilot reports Obol Lance good effect on target. Requests immediate deployment of ARM.β
βSend it.β
βSending now, Command.β
βSystems! I want whatever that thing is on the map, now!β
βCommand! Secondary target on approach from the Northwest!β
Dina began chewing on a fingernail.
_
βMassive damage to abdominal plating. Power systems are holding steady but we've lost a battery cell and there is a fuel leak from auxiliary tank two.β
βCommand, CAPCOM.β
βCopy EECOM. Go CAPCOM.β
βPilot reports Obol Lance good effect on target. Requests immediate deployment of ARM.β
βSend it.β
βSending now, Command.β
βSystems! I want whatever that thing is on the map, now!β
βCommand! Secondary target on approach from the Northwest!β
Dina began chewing on a fingernail.
_
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