thewizardguy

HCL 2: Twisted tinkers' triumph

((To make up for not having posted in ages. Have a post I'm going to work my absolute hardest on to make it awesome.))


The black ship moved through the graveyard. A titan among lesser beings, as battleships floated around it's sides like infant children. A fleet of heavily armed war machines, optimized and rebuilt, a wall of steel and technology, slowly and yet purposefully floating. Nearby debris seems to push around the spearhead, incapable of touching the armored walls that surround those that work within. Thousands of massive cannons line the walls of this beast, complex works of ingenuity and adaptation, constantly automated to check their loads and charges, powered by a science so complex it would stagger the minds of those who did not yet master it. A singular pillar of strength and knowledge, within which was contained all the power of an empire.

"A true leader is not a searcher for consensus, but a molder of consensus."
- Martin Luther King.

Within the halls of this ship walked those soulless creatures, formed from the base elements of the universe, and shaped by the hand of man. Mindless and hopeless, without will or dream, that which could not be called life but yet, in some twisted way, did yet live. For they thought, and they saw, and with those soulless eyes witnessed the universe that had been formed around them. These creations waged war on their enemies, and yet this choice was not their own, for choice, indeed, in the purest sense, was something that was beyond them. And yet, even in this state of constant existence, for exist they did, and nothing more than that, they worked and toiled for a God they did not worship, and a goal they could not conceive of. For this, as mere robots, was their nature.

"Speak softly and carry a big stick; you will go far."
- Theodore Roosevelt

Deep within the web of machinations and creations, whirring and twisting and turning towards innumerable and uncountable goals, within the infinite hallways and passages, winding and twisting through the hulk of steel and craft, rose a throne. Connected through more than symbolism to the web it sat there, the power of the entire fleet poring through it, and flowing into it's king. For upon this throne, in the center of his arm and armor, sat the inventor who had created all that now occupied the realm between planets, his heart burning with a passion that could not be quenched. For within that heart, the flames of his past still burned with fiery hatred, and on those flames his resolve had been formed. Harder than steel, a will of human proportions, even as through human technology and mind, he was raised to a status beyond human. For in each soulless eye, in each spark of power, in each whirring mechanism, existed this gaze, and this man.

"If you care enough for a result, you will most certainly attain it."
- William James

Inevitable and unliving, armies of unstoppable fighting machines poured over the worlds below. Merciless, yet undeniably efficient, they wiped out the enemy before they had time to react. As the ships above fought the enemy in space, so to did these bringers of destruction and conquerers of worlds deal with their foes on the ground. For no wall could stop them, merely slow them, before they found a way around it. No gun could harm them, for those few weapons that killed these beings only motivated their creator, as more were formed once more. No will could stand against them, for they had no will, and they cared not for the will of those they faced. And thus, one by one, the world's of the Clone Emperor fell to this blitz of attacks.

"The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting."
- Sun Tzu

A tide of steel swept through the galaxy, and all that was thrown before it merely made it stronger. Even as the battles escalated to ever greater heights, the tide grew to match it's opponents. Technology becoming more and more complex, adapting and changing, even as the worlds they conquered grew to learn the meaning and value of technology and superior rule. An iron fist was laid down upon those worlds that were claimed, as militaries were reduced to nothing but piles of rubble. The enemy fled their worlds as they retreated ever further away from their foe, and yet their transportation was tuned on them, as the concept was grasped by the inventor. Armies rose and fell, for before the iron tide, mere military might was insufficient. And thus, they advanced.

"I am not afraid of an army of lions led by a sheep; I am afraid of an army of sheep led by a lion."

Mathew, God Emperor of Babylon, who had risen himself above the Gods upon his great pillar of technology and knowledge, looked through a billion eyes. Below him was the Clone World, the central production for clones. It was the world to which the clones had retreated, time after time. It was where the Clone Emperor had kept his greatest military might. With each battle, Mathew had faced but that which the Clone Emperor could spare to defend that planet, knowing that this had been Mathew's final goal. If he conquered this world, he would repopulate those planets he had previously conquered with clones, and they would become perfect civilians. A utopia led by a fist of steel, which would devour any enemy to threaten this manmade illusion of perfection. As Mathew spoke, a thousand voices spoke, and he was heard throughout the earth and heavens as they rumbled. "Clone Emperor. I have arrived at your doorstep. It is time for you to surrender."

Blood Compact: Magnus's Reign

Stein outright glared at Mithias, as he saw the obvious flaw in his plan. He wasn't used to being in a position of disadvantage, and the very idea of someone threatening him was gut-wrenchingly humiliating. He was a master of science, and it was him that did the threatening in these situations. However, even furious, Stein could not deny the logic behind the conclusions that Mithias had pulled. Moments later, however, his face resumed it's usual smirk. "You have no idea what you're doing, child. You do not understand the sheer complexity of that which has been laid out before you. If what you say is true, then Terebithia has already prepared itself. It will only gather blood in order to prepare to kill either Gabriel or Martin. Based on Gabriel's usual absence from the scene, that means that your friend is about to discover just how much I want to kill his daddy. Perhaps if he's as strong as he thinks he is, he'll survive long enough to give me the information I need."

Stein was not one for games, but, having lived his own death, and being reduced to a mere string of code in the subconscious of some lousy vamp had given him a new perspective on the world. Perhaps he'd gone a little insane, lost that small bit of his mind that kept him tethered to reality. Or perhaps the experience had simply distanced him from the objectives he had wished to complete, the goals that had once been his. Or perhaps, the act of bringing back the dead, the ability to use science to resurrect that which had been lost, had elevated him to the godly status that no man should possess. Perhaps the world, in his eyes, had been reduced to nothing more than a plaything, to be tipped and thrown and watched. "An AI which seems to be completely and utterly autonomous, in a world where AI has never reached such a stage, demonstrating pychic capabilities beyond that of even vampires. An assassin without thought or emotion, acting as an AI, with a deeper and darker side that has been forcefully suppressed. The recreation of a vampire from DNA, cloned in a tank. The gathering of enough blood to feed an army."

Stein laughs loudly, his eyes opening wide as his arms are spread. With wild abandon, he stood up from his chair, even as the vast cavern shakes under the tumultuous assault of Stein's now jumbled thoughts. "The puzzle pieces are yours! Think, my dear boy, think! What is Heaven's Greatest Weapon? Who is the Demon Shadow? And what, really, have I created?" Stein laughs, even as, like flakes of pain, the stone crumbles from the walls of the cavern. And as they fall, what is revealed is a burning hell. A plain covered in corpses, as thousands of drones, like demonic insects, float above the battlefield. Thousands of vampires lie dead on the ground, as the Terebithia floats through it all, it's hull scarred with hundreds of holes. Fire leaks from it's windows, and slowly, it crashes to the ground. And in the center of this maelstrom of chaos and death, six wings spread behind it, floats the Seraph. Surrounded by a circle of lesser angels, the creature flies high above, in it's hand a blade stained red with the blood of vampire and human alike. On the ground, demons beyond comprehension feed on the corpses, slaughtering anything that yet lives. Utter and complete annihilation, as the forces of both Hell and Heaven are released upon the world.

Blood Compact: Magnus's Reign

Stein narrowed his eyes as he sensed Martin's messing about. The vampire had become too much of an issue. While he had delayed elimination on the basis of the interest he had in studying the psychic vampire, he would need to finish Project Zero quite soon. While Heaven's Greatest Weapon would be sufficient to deal with both Magnus and Gabriel, but based on Martin's particular profile, a separate weapon would be needed to remove the interference. However, like a fool, Martin had ignored the boundaries that even his father, renowned as the most powerful vampire in the world, had not crossed. Things were often left untouched for a reason, and in his arrogance, Martin had succumbed to the greatest sin in science. He had advanced to fast, and too foolishly.

"You compare us, but such drivel is pointless, vampire. From your memories I gather that Terebithia is preparing to wipe out whomever it is that accessed the data banks. No doubt that was Martin, he's grown far too arrogant in his new power and provoked my daughter." Stein looks over at Mithias, and although the self-serving professor would never admit to it, he was now, at least partially, reliant on Mithias. He might exists in Mithias's mind, but it was Mith's mind, and not Stein's. No matter how dangerous he had been in life, in death Stein relied on Mithias. "You need to find some way to communicate with Terebithia, as soon as possible. I had nothing to gain from her activating Project Armageddon, and the moment she has fixed her sensors, she will. I programmed Terebithia to be self-sufficient, and she repairs herself over time using the drones from BioSWARM, as well as having fully activated. I'm the only one that can calm her down now."

Blood Compact: Magnus's Reign

Stein ignored Martin as he walked through Mithias's mindscape. Such arrogance would undoubtedly come with the unexpected amounts of power that Martin had deployed. A plan had already been put in place to deal with the fool, and he would not pose a threat to the operations for long. There were far more important matters at hand. "Pilot used the stored electromagnetic data from my brain, translated it into a psionic spectrum based on psychological wavelengths, then modified your neurons to bond this structure to your mind. In simple terms, she bonded me inside of your head. As a vampire with great psychic potential, but little control, you posed one of the most optimal test subjects, and I must say it worked quite splendidly, do you not think? A parent is never prouder, then when he is surpassed." Stein smiles, even as the scene around him seems to dissolve. Less like a translocation than a shift of scenery, as within the mind all such things are liquid.

You and Stein are standing on the main Control Deck of the Terebithia, before you is one of the few windows on the Terebithia. Seen as strategic weaknesses, this one was placed here to grant a view of the battlefield, yet had the side effect of being perfect for observing the sunset. The last beams of dying light shine through the window, as Stein archs his eyebrow at you, looking remarkably like Spock. "A vision? In death, I wondered just why it was that you acted as offensively as you did. You based that all on a vision you got when speaking to me? Really, I am disappointed." Stein once more changes the scene, and you find yourself standing in front of the labs. Before you, floating in it's tube of odd indescribable liquid is you, exactly resembling how you are now, naked and asleep, kept in artificial coma. "What advantage would I have from wiping out all human life? I seek to create, not to destroy, as you should well know. You may disagree with my methods, but to believe that I would commit worldwide genocide is foolishness. In stark contrast, I sought in life to create the ultimate lifeform. A vampire without the dependency on blood, with the great strength of a werewolf, and the mind of the most advanced of humanity. Would that not be the perfect new body for an old cripple like me?"

HCL 2: Twisted tinkers' triumph

Stein nods and sits down. The Emperor's Hand. Most likely a religious group by the sounds of it, the Clone Emperor was setting himself up as a religious leader. Either he set himself up as a God, or the chosen one of a God. Perhaps a pantheon of Gods. However, Stein carefully followed the movements of most Gods, and he was unaware of any Gods having moved to this area of the multiverse in the last hundred or so years. If there was any patron God to this empire it was either a relatively unknown God, which usually meant a weak God, or a quite old God which didn't show it's face much. Whichever turned out to be the case, this could pose an issue to Stein's plans if this God proved to be opposed to his.... ideas. Perhaps the best course of action would be elimination.

---

A light smile touched Mathew's lips, his eyes cold, as he looked down upon the angel and the fool. "Ignorance of the law is not immunity to the law. Simply because you did not know you were committing a crime does not in any way diminish the crime. While the charge of assault may be dropped, the charge of interference in diplomatic matters is a crime against the empire itself, and, thus, me." One of the Guardians was instantly beside Micheal, again using that form of instant transportation that could not be traced, as if they had simply willed themselves to exist in a different location. "The penalty for such interference is death. By righteous and just court of law, you would be sent to your death through assimilation. By will of the state, your body would be used for medical purposes after your demise, either as donation organs or as a test subject to aid in the development of medical science. Would you submit to such judgement?"

Blood Compact: Magnus's Reign

Hahaha. Onikage got kind of annoyed when Rhyss recklessly broke his mask.

Blood Compact: Magnus's Reign

Slowly, a headache built up. Mithias would feel a pressure building in the back of his head. Perhaps it had been the stress of recent happenings, the discovery of Martin's act of ascension, or perhaps the psionic wail had had more of an impact than Mithias had at first thought. However, without any explanation forthcoming, the headache slowly grew out, expanding forward into the front of your brain as your vision begins blurring. Pounding and swirling in your skull without relent, as moving becomes harder and harder to do, even as the pain reaches unspeakable levels. Two small streams of blood trickle slowly down your face, a streak of red upon the white skin of the undead, as tears of blood flow from your eyes.

As if, under this inexplicable force, your mind had finally collapsed, everything before Mithias's eyes turned to.... grey. As his vision clears, and Mithias has the presence of mind to observe his surroundings, he finds himself sitting on a rather comfortable chair, surrounded by the smell of roasted chicken. The room is brightly lit, the steel walls reflecting the light from the neon lights affixed to the cieling, running in beams across it. Before Mithias is a table covered in platters of food, the source of the smell, although somehow you can smell nothing but chicken, the smell somehow sickening. However, as your eyes are cast across the room, you see Stein, as he wolfs down a chicken wing, licking his fingers. "Ah, Mithias. It's about time you joined me. Could I offer you some chicken, perhaps?" Stein's smile, although partially innocent, is laden with smug superiority, his eyes like daggers.

Blood Compact: Magnus's Reign

Hey, there's more on the way. I'm slowly dropping the clues to a puzzle. There are many plot twists ahead, and I'm handing you the material to guess if you're smart about it. For example, how was BioPILOT able to use psychic abilities? Why would he need all that blood? And more importantly, now that everyone who could have been steering him around has either died or departed, just whom's orders is it moving on?

Sorry, I like creating puzzles in roleplays like this. Next post incoming, prepare for mindfuck central.

Blood Compact: Magnus's Reign

Oni's really just a funny guy under all that armor ^^

HCL 2: Twisted tinkers' triumph

Stein, of course, had plenty of time. His plans moved slowly, but surely. "This isn't a matter of a simple epidemic. If we don't act properly, this might happen on different planets. If the Emperor is gone, then who's in charge right now? If we don't make sure this stops, more people will lose their families." Stein spoke frantically, and yet within all he was was a cold calculation. He might not be able to get to the emperor, but for now, whomever was in charge was good enough. Somebody needed to run an empire this big, needed to make sure everything ran smoothly. There always needs to be a leader, and Stein would, of course, be as helpful as he could. He would be the assistant, the adviser, the small influences that would shift the fate of the empire, and, throught them, the entire universe.