Fandom The Gray Scales - A Dark Multi-fandom Adventure

[SilverFlight]

Thirteen looked at Strange curiously. "The development of your skill was...unexpected?"
The mage looked away, the inner mechanisms of their artificial mind working hard to comprehend this. "As a conduit created simply for the destructive properties of magic...this concept is...difficult for me."

Still Thirteen listened with avid interest as Strange related his abilities and his place in both magic, and his universe. It was clear that Thirteen understood very little, but they were determined to try.

After a long pause, Thirteen spoke again.
"What you say seems to align very clearly with the words used by the guardians of this place. My assumption then, was correct...but...your ability, your purpose seems so much more complex than my own."

Thirteen moved to the nearest shelf, brushing the fingers of a leather glove over a row of book spines, with something akin to fondness.
"My existence is simple, limited by one purpose. Your existence is limited only by the confines of the reality in which we are. It is like...a clock. I am a cog, used for one purpose, an object that has no other place but the one for which it was created, yet you...you are the maker. The one who comprehends what the clock should be, before it is, and the ability to make it just so."

Thirteen selected a tome arbitrarily and brushed the cover, thumbing the title as they pondered.
"I am not experienced in the capabilities of humans. My creators look like you. They wear the appearance of humans, but they hold no responsibility for preserving the balance as you do. If this is a fundamental part of being human, I do not think they merit the title. I think...balance is good."

They turned to strange then, a determined set to their soulless eyes. "I wish to transcend my simplicity. I wish to become more than a cog."

Xen6n

 

[Xen6n]

"I had one thing that any magic-user would wish to have a lot of...time. I never told many people this but I'm chronologically and consciously over billions of years old, I have been in dimensions, universes, timelines, and events where time and space works differently or never existed at all, allowing me to hone my skill in the mystic arts and gather more mystical knowledge. One such occurrence was the War of the Seven Spheres, a war that occurred in a distant dimension and went for about 500,000 years, but thankfully the Vishanti sent me back a month later after my departure from Earth. So it wasn't just that I miraculously became this powerful, it took centuries and millennials wort of study and practice"

Dr. Strange said after Thirteen noted his skill, which was nice but he didn't want to sound as if he was great by chance. He wanted to emphasize the concept of hard work and commitment to Thirteen so he won't take the easy way out of gaining skill and becoming stronger in magic.

"It's ok, you are new to mortal ideas of concepts, after all, these things are not meant to dwell on intently."

Strange listened closely at his response to his role in his universe and nodded

"It is indeed complex, I not only have to watch over my world but myself too, I also have several times, lost my way unbalancing my use of Black and White Magic. Magic has an effect on the body and mind, and constant usage of it can change you, even to the point of your sense of self."

When Doctor Strange saw Thirteen going over to a bookshelf and tracing his hand along the spine of a book, he noted the impressive development of empathetic gestures. 'For a being who had no emotion or free will at all, he's developing at a very fast and compelling rate'. Stephen thought as he listened on to what Thirteen said, which gave him mixed feelings, to be frank.

"That's very nice of you to say Thirteen but you undermine yourself, nobody is superior, nobody is inferior and nobody is equal either. Don't underestimate yourself, you are capable of more than you could ever imagine. For instance, I was born a regular human with nothing supernatural or special about myself and no exposure to magic at all. You were born to be a killing machine to use the destructive power of magic. Your existence was simple, was limited by one purpose, but you became more than just a tool. Use that opportunity at your advantage"

Stephen's sentient cloak flew from his shoulders and soared away around the library, Strange didn't know what it was doing, he thought it probably was looking around the library and knowing the place. The Cloak had some unique abilities that Stephen wasn't aware of. He turned to Thirteen as they spoke.

"Balance indeed is necessary and no, humans unlike some other species are capable of doing what they want with their life, it can be a good thing or a bad thing. Preserving cosmic balance and becoming the Sorcerer Supreme was my choice, I did it because I wanted to use my powers for good and learn the ways of magic. Your creators must also choose to do what they do, making machines of war and magic were of their free will I assume, probably for power, fame, money, most of the times its selfish deeds."

Stephen had a small smile on his face when Thirteen asked him to help him transcend his simplicity. He envied his innocence.

"When you broke free of your creator's control, you already became more than a cog. You did something that non of your otherkin was able to do, you gained free will. Just like humans, you too can decide what you want to be, you developed a moral compass and you question what you don't understand. Just that alone makes you more than a cog, I'm not the master because I have great power, it's because I chose to be and work to understand the clock. A cog does its part and chooses to stay and do its part, if you want to become a master, you need to go beyond your comfort zone, think outside the box, push your boundaries and limitations and never doubt yourself. By doing that, you can transcend your simplicity, the only thing preventing you from doing that is yourself. Your uniqueness is your greatest strength, not how well you emulate others."

His cloak came back with a red cover book with a golden linin on the spine, opening the book he saw it was on advanced spells of Elemental Magic. Taking the book, his cloak nogged him to Thirteen, as a gesture to give it to him. Getting the suggestion, he showed the book to Thirteen, it might help him.

SilverFlight

 

[Goonfire]

The blonde maiden let out a soft sigh, a mix of frustration and shock. From what this woman told her, the Forces of Light had somehow been corrupted by their own arrogance and lust for power. That was more understandable to her, seeing as she had dealt with Soul Edge in her own world, but still something was biting at her that she couldn't help but notice.

"It's going to take more than an illusion to convince me, I'm afraid. I have little reason to trust you or anyone here aside from a mission granted to me by Thanatos himself."

Indeed, the illusion only caused the beauty to doubt herself and why she was here to begin with. Is that was this was? Just some sick test by Thanatos to lure her away? What if Soul Edge was running rampant back home? Her family was defenseless! And where was Hephaestus? It was he who had granted Sophitia and her family their sacred mission and weapons. He had yet to make an appearance or even call out to her to give guidance.

Sarah lowered her hood, cowering in her cowl.

So. Not dead yet. She vaguely remembered a theory from her old physics classes, something called False Vacuum Decay that just nearly, very roughly matched with what she was told here. Yet the fantastical nature of utterly everything that happened gave her too much of a headache to properly formulate even a feasible theory that matched what she knew.

She took a shuddering breath and rubbed the rim of her hood.

Focus on what’s real, focus on what’s material, focus on what her senses could agree on.

The real, the material, is the purest manifestation of truth. Cold, hard, physical truth, but also solid and dependable truth, the basis for the great symphony of reality. So, she was here, and she was told to balance the scales in the face of a metaphysical threat, one born of the light?

She could see it, as she tilted her head to the side. She might not be a psychologist, but she knew some basics.



“Well met, Lady Scrimm. If I understand you correctly, the problem is somewhat like this: An excess of order in a person would lead to psychological damage, someone would get set in their ways, unable to adapt to changing circumstances. Because the tolerance for external shock gets lower, the tolerance for new insights also grows lower, until eventually someone’s mind is so set in it’s ways that all they are capable of is repetition of trusted sources and doctrinal mantras. Like their soul withered and died, leaving a breathing husk only capable of a fixed set of responses. Except now we should apply that theory to a universal scale, to entire planets and populations…?” she asked, her head tilted to the side. If that were correct, she could scarcely imagine the horror. An entire universe, devoid of free will, merely acting out ‘what was right’ without an ounce of understanding, compassion, or even choice. Hordes of once free people that could only blindly follow rote without the guiding spark of soul. Legions of plastic smiles and hollow eyes. She shuddered. Praise Blake she was nothing like that.

The mention of items caught her attention.

“Miss Margaret? You can? May I see the ritual? I do have a certain wishlist.” she asked, curious to see how this would even work. What sort of machinery would they have for that? The last she could remember, she sat weeping in the cockpit of Redeemer, clad in a coolant vest.

Obviously this was no longer the case, and before she even thought about going on any adventures, she’d like to get properly prepared. The interesting holographic display caught her attention briefly, and she followed the exchange between the blonde warrior woman and the one known as Alexia.




“Mayhaps we should simply see where we are sent to, and render judgement ourselves?” she said in a soothing tone. Sarah sympathised, she truly did. Perhaps these entities were out to use them for their own end. Sarah certainly planned to first ask questions and only then start shooting, once they were clear of the castle. Challenging anyone on grounds they prepared was difficult. She literally had been part of such a set up not even a month ago. For now, the only intelligent course forward she could see was to play along.

View attachment 939164 As Agito had seemed lost in his trance, he was taken a back by the sudden arrival of the new strangers along with him. He looked to the beings as they had begun to assign each person a task. He was confused, still, what had happened to him, and for some unknown reason, he could not access any feature's to the Guyver's arsenal Except for his Sonic blades and his Head Sensor's. Stopping for a moment to recuperate as he heard one of them speak about their universes being destroyed "That's..Impossible, My Universe...or..at least My world..Was destroyed by..." He paused, even he couldn't remember the events before falling into unconciousness.

Upon hearing that they were dismissed to explore the conflux, Agito decided to keep his Bio Armor on, remaining anonymous for now until he at least became acquainted with the strange new people he had found himself besides, however, he kept on looking for his own companions, denying the fact that they were dead, and he came out as the lone survivor from his universe. Upon seeing a woman in what seemed to be Ancient Greek attire, Agito approached her, cautiously, but also curious. "Excuse me, Ma'am..Do you have any Idea what these...Hmm, I'm not even sure people is the right word--Were talking about? I can't make heads or tails out of it." Hahli Nuva

Of course, this was to be expected from a normal human's mind, The man even believed that he might've been stuck in some sort of nightmare, and that he would wake up, for this was not normal to him, even with everything that had transpired prior to finding himself here, this was totally out of the question, and it even had him doubting the fabric of reality itself.

Sophitia turned to see the man in armor, and after she got past her initial suspicions, gave him a shake of her head to signify that she too was just as lost as he himself was. The rest of the group seemed to have dispersed throughout the dark realm, leaving only a few others left who wished to ask questions and seek answers. Sophitia assumed this man was one of them, but she herself could not answer his question fully.

"From what I understand, corruption has taken place in the hearts of once good men. I believe we are the ones meant to destroy said corruption and bring the balance of Light and Dark to equal measure. That's what I can gather from what they've shared with us so far at least. I intend to find out just how far we have fallen. You are welcome to join me, sir."

Maybe together they could come to an understanding. Sophitia knew she couldn't have all the perspectives in a situation, so maybe this armored man could see something she missed? She took note of his infernal attire. Was he some kind of demon?

Upon first hearing the task that they were undertaking, Angelica couldn't help but internally scoff at the premonition of bringing balance and "order" to a world, let alone a multiverse. From where she hailed, none of that mattered. Those on both sides had their tragedies, their wishes and aspirations, yet none of them were kind or brave enough to bridge the gaps. People of the City clung to whatever they could to survive, whether it be to seek the protection of The Fingers, to join Associations, or to simply fall into deep lethargy. Yet-- even as she herself complains, all she knows that she can do is smile in the face of it. To let the machinations of others be and to work around them.

Yet-- she has also already found others to cherish and care for, to toss aside the rules and norms of the world she grew up in to support them. Wasn't it hypocrtical of her to claim such a deranged detachment with those around her when she's. . . She shook her head, if she could confide in Roland she could-



Compelled to act, she made a brisk stride towards the pale librarian Goonfire , eager to take the opportunity presented in front of her. It could have been mere moments since she last saw him, or perhaps days or years. She couldn't tell how long she was out-- or even when she was summoned to this place. The details of it all was so foggy-- yet she had the chance to clear one doubt from her mind.

"Excuse me miss. . . Margaret was it? I was wondering if you could aid in re-establishing contact with someone from where I'm from. They're not exactly a patron per-se, but I was wondering to know how that would work. . ." she trailed off, her ignorance on the matter reeling her back from making any unnecessary remarks.

Her voice was gentle and tender, and even during a situation which should cause grave distress, she maintained the soft and quiet intonations that were a part of her namesake. However, her crystal blue eyes vacant of any concern, a clear sign of her tiredness after being brought into the Conflux.

“I sincerely wish this scrying pool showed a mere illusion,” Alexia confessed. “It acts as a window to the multiverse. What you see is happening in real-time.”

With Sarah speculating on the causes of such degradation, Alexia began sprinkling glimmering powdered minerals and herbs on the floor around the scrying pool. She stopped to reflect on the unique perspective. "Ideas can be a far-reaching weapon, especially those left to stagnate and go unchallenged. Why do you think that is?" She continued soon after, indicating it was a rhetorical question. "Because every time one's ideals and faith are tested, they see ways they can do better, ways to reform and improve. Without that added push from an opposing side--not necessarily 'evil' or 'darkness'--they remain set in their ways, ignorant to everything outside that bubble of thought. Surely, in your many campaigns, you had such a revelation at some point?"

Margaret beckoned for Sarah and Sophitia to come with her. "I can see you both need assistance. You have more worldly questions," she started, her gaze pointed at Sarah before shifting towards Sophitia. "But you... I can sense the power of your patrons. You may be wondering why one of them endorsed you. I have a room prepared for a seance. There, we can draw upon the power of the subconscious mind to bring forth a solution, or at least the foundation for one." Her yellow eyes also flickered to Angelica. "In your case, I will have to know what you need before we begin. We can discuss that once we reach the room, if you wish." She waited for the three to finish their business before proceeding.

The room Margaret would show them had rich, dark wood furniture with regal blue upholstery and plush carpet. On a large, round table sat a deck of cards, candles, and a few leatherbound books similar to the one Margaret carried, albeit smaller and thinner. There seemed to be no windows--only mirrors from floor to ceiling and from corner to corner. (Moving to the seance room is optional, and you may continue interactions in the chapel.)

The boy known as Soranus approached Agito. "The witches say some things I can't come close to understanding, but the Maiden told me it's their fancy way of saying, 'We have a problem in the multiverse, but you can solve it with a good fight and some finesse.' They said some worlds were destroyed, but they're optimistic you can make whatever ate those worlds spit them back out."

He stared at the Guyver, his eyes drifting up and down while humming in approval. "I like your armor, by the way. It's organic, right?"

------------

Once the door had been opened, Thirteen stepped through it, then closed and opened in themself two times, to memorize the action. The eyes that floated in the void narrowed, and it may have taken a moment to realize that this was as much a smile as the strange being could reproduce.
Thirteen held the door open for the other caster with this expression.

When Strange used the spell Thirteen tensed visibly, but remained still. Their hat tilted as Thirteen inclined the dark matter that served as a head in curiosity.
"Using magic without a focus is...a feat of good competence," the mage acknowledged. "Your skill seems...complex."

Thirteen held out a hand to demonstrate his own: "Soldiers of my class are capable of manipulating physical elements, very little else." As they spoke, a small flame bloomed in the center of the gnarled glove, which twisted and sparked into little arcs of electricity dancing between their fingers, finally the energy condensed, forming frost on the leather, little diamond particles dancing in the air just above.

The demonstration over they turned to take in the halls of the library. Wall to wall and floor to ceiling, seven levels absolutely filled with books. Each volume was unique, and the covers seemed to demonstrate every time and reality. The room seemed to stretch on infinitely. Thirteen was sure there was some magic to this place too.
"I wish to know your conclusions about the "Conflux". Your tone and demeanor suggest that this occurrence is not as new to you as it is to me."

Xen6n

When he saw that Thirteen held the door open for him he nodded in gratitude and stepped into the library, taking a good look around the scenery and architecture of the place, he heard Thirteen note about his skill.

"It really is, it sometimes bombards me as to how I became so skilled in magic in the first place."

When Thirteen demonstrated his usage of magic and told him about it, he was impressed actually, transitioning to other elements on the fly is not an easy task, well it was for him, mostly because he's a human. He brought his attention to the vast features of the library, seeing the wide array of mystical tomes and other literary information stacked within these walls brought a smile to his face. Ever since the day he started studying magic, he developed a fondness and keenness towards books and libraries. The place had books about magic, he could sense it. His focus was delayed when he heard Thirteen ask him a thought-provoking question.

"Yes, you are correct on that part, it's mostly because of what I do. In my world, I am known as my universe's Sorcerer Supreme, a title granted to those whose skill in the mystic arts is greater than those of any other beings in the multiverse. And with that came the responsibility of defending my universe and multiverse from all mystical and otherworldly threats. Occurrences such as these aren't new to me, maintaining cosmic balance and how it must be maintained transcends mortal morality and understanding, chaos cannot exist without order and life is meaningless without death, every action in the universe had an equal and opposite reaction elsewhere. If someone had good luck, at the same time, someone would have an equal amount of bad luck. There’s a harmony, a balance, in the Universe. Light needs dark. Dark needs light. If you blow one of them away, then, I mean...It wouldn't be a good thing. It’d be really not a good thing. Like ‘end of reality’ not good, everything would cease to exist. And as such, to preserve that balance I might even have to join the forces of evil to do that, which is quite similar to the situation at the moment.

You may be wondering how a human of all beings would understand that, well I possess Hyper-Cosmic Awareness, I can understand things others might find difficult to comprehend, capable of sensing things beyond time and space, peering into distant worlds beyond my own through meditation, as well as the dangers of which they present to their own world. This is limited though, i cannot be aware of events that take place in worlds such as yours"

At the grand library, all seemed silent. There were no other patrons wandering the perceivable area. In fact, it appeared most denizens of the Conflux gave the library a wide berth. The books inside covered an astoundingly broad range of topics, from more worldly subjects to esoteric magic and theories on the multiverse.

From the top floor, a figure descended, floating down to the first level to meet Doctor Strange and Thirteen. It was a skeleton, clad in weathered robes and carrying a grimoire and a smoky crystal orb. Two points of red light illuminated its empty eye sockets. "I see two creatures out of the entire growing population have mustered the courage to enter these archives," it observed, its aged masculine voice surprisingly clear for an entity without vocal cords. "What brings a liberated construct and a great magician to my temporary abode?"

 

[Hahli Nuva]

“I sincerely wish this scrying pool showed a mere illusion,” Alexia confessed. “It acts as a window to the multiverse. What you see is happening in real-time.”

With Sarah speculating on the causes of such degradation, Alexia began sprinkling glimmering powdered minerals and herbs on the floor around the scrying pool. She stopped to reflect on the unique perspective. "Ideas can be a far-reaching weapon, especially those left to stagnate and go unchallenged. Why do you think that is?" She continued soon after, indicating it was a rhetorical question. "Because every time one's ideals and faith are tested, they see ways they can do better, ways to reform and improve. Without that added push from an opposing side--not necessarily 'evil' or 'darkness'--they remain set in their ways, ignorant to everything outside that bubble of thought. Surely, in your many campaigns, you had such a revelation at some point?"

Margaret beckoned for Sarah and Sophitia to come with her. "I can see you both need assistance. You have more worldly questions," she started, her gaze pointed at Sarah before shifting towards Sophitia. "But you... I can sense the power of your patrons. You may be wondering why one of them endorsed you. I have a room prepared for a séance. There, we can draw upon the power of the subconscious mind to bring forth a solution, or at least the foundation for one." Her yellow eyes also flickered to Angelica. "In your case, I will have to know what you need before we begin. We can discuss that once we reach the room, if you wish." She waited for the three to finish their business before proceeding.

The room Margaret would show them had rich, dark wood furniture with regal blue upholstery and plush carpet. On a large, round table sat a deck of cards, candles, and a few leatherbound books similar to the one Margaret carried, albeit smaller and thinner. There seemed to be no windows--only mirrors from floor to ceiling and from corner to corner. (Moving to the seance room is optional, and you may continue interactions in the chapel.)

The boy known as Soranus approached Agito. "The witches say some things I can't come close to understanding, but the Maiden told me it's their fancy way of saying, 'We have a problem in the multiverse, but you can solve it with a good fight and some finesse.' They said some worlds were destroyed, but they're optimistic you can make whatever ate those worlds spit them back out."

He stared at the Guyver, his eyes drifting up and down while humming in approval. "I like your armor, by the way. It's organic, right?"

------------

The question had never been asked of her before. Sophitia had always been proud and vigilant in her faith to the gods. Soul Edge was clearly evil and not showing even a shred of decency had hurt its case even more so. Sophitia would never make the same mistakes she had in the past, not if there was indeed a better way to go about them, but was this really the only way? Was fighting for the darkness to stop the light truly something she could do? Clearly there was more to it than simple black and white morality, seeing as the witch had asked her to accompany them to a new area.

Feeling her anxiety start to flare up, the beautiful blonde ignored the knot in her stomach to follow. Maybe this would be the proof she needed. Sophitia entered the room and awaited further instruction, her gaze taking in the many sights before her.

"This does seem like a solution, yes. A more detailed explanation, perhaps?" she turned to look at Margaret over her shoulder.

 

[BnemonicDevice]

“I sincerely wish this scrying pool showed a mere illusion,” Alexia confessed. “It acts as a window to the multiverse. What you see is happening in real-time.”

With Sarah speculating on the causes of such degradation, Alexia began sprinkling glimmering powdered minerals and herbs on the floor around the scrying pool. She stopped to reflect on the unique perspective. "Ideas can be a far-reaching weapon, especially those left to stagnate and go unchallenged. Why do you think that is?" She continued soon after, indicating it was a rhetorical question. "Because every time one's ideals and faith are tested, they see ways they can do better, ways to reform and improve. Without that added push from an opposing side--not necessarily 'evil' or 'darkness'--they remain set in their ways, ignorant to everything outside that bubble of thought. Surely, in your many campaigns, you had such a revelation at some point?"

Margaret beckoned for Sarah and Sophitia to come with her. "I can see you both need assistance. You have more worldly questions," she started, her gaze pointed at Sarah before shifting towards Sophitia. "But you... I can sense the power of your patrons. You may be wondering why one of them endorsed you. I have a room prepared for a seance. There, we can draw upon the power of the subconscious mind to bring forth a solution, or at least the foundation for one." Her yellow eyes also flickered to Angelica. "In your case, I will have to know what you need before we begin. We can discuss that once we reach the room, if you wish." She waited for the three to finish their business before proceeding.

The room Margaret would show them had rich, dark wood furniture with regal blue upholstery and plush carpet. On a large, round table sat a deck of cards, candles, and a few leatherbound books similar to the one Margaret carried, albeit smaller and thinner. There seemed to be no windows--only mirrors from floor to ceiling and from corner to corner. (Moving to the seance room is optional, and you may continue interactions in the chapel.)

The boy known as Soranus approached Agito. "The witches say some things I can't come close to understanding, but the Maiden told me it's their fancy way of saying, 'We have a problem in the multiverse, but you can solve it with a good fight and some finesse.' They said some worlds were destroyed, but they're optimistic you can make whatever ate those worlds spit them back out."

He stared at the Guyver, his eyes drifting up and down while humming in approval. "I like your armor, by the way. It's organic, right?"

------------




At the grand library, all seemed silent. There were no other patrons wandering the perceivable area. In fact, it appeared most denizens of the Conflux gave the library a wide berth. The books inside covered an astoundingly broad range of topics, from more worldly subjects to esoteric magic and theories on the multiverse.

From the top floor, a figure descended, floating down to the first level to meet Doctor Strange and Thirteen. It was a skeleton, clad in weathered robes and carrying a grimoire and a smoky crystal orb. Two points of red light illuminated its empty eye sockets. "I see two creatures out of the entire growing population have mustered the courage to enter these archives," it observed, its aged masculine voice surprisingly clear for an entity without vocal cords. "What brings a liberated construct and a great magician to my temporary abode?"

Getting only an earshot of the conversation Sarah, Dmitri Tolenka , Sophita Hahli Nuva , and Alexia Goonfire were having about the integrity of the world and whether or not they should fight on the side of darkness and so on. . . She couldn't help but recall the same cries Roland had made out to her when they were fighting the Blood-Red Night. That he wore his mask to shield his contorting, disgusted face from the obscene killings done by the City's denizens. It led her to wonder, if the two figures, still eager for answers from their new patrons, would soon require his mask as well.

As she heard Margaret Goonfire beckon for her to follow, she nodded her head as she silently walked along, preferring to go unnoticed. As they were moving to their destination, she informed the pale librarian: "I was hoping to see if you could contact two individuals from my home. My performance in combat hinges upon the information that they can provide" she explained-- her voice soft, buttery and wispy, still devoid of anxiety or concern. It expressed a calm stillness in the Black Silence, as the outside world rocks the glass pool that contains all such vapid, liquid worries-- she was happy that its container had walls high enough to contain any sloshing that came from its outside.

Of course, that's the half-truth that she would want to sell you as a consummate professional. What she was really after was trying to get in contact with her family back from where she came. Angelica at the moment cared not about the over-arching, reality-risking multiverse adventure that she got caught up in. She was more worried about what she was leaving behind-- as she could only imagine the worry and self-torment her husband and her brother face knowing that she could have disappeared for days, weeks, years-- hell they might be skeletons and she could be none the wiser. That is why before she commits herself to this job she must know because any self-inflicted ignorance of such matters would only weigh her down from here on out.

Yet, almost paradoxically, it was her desire to get into contact with anyone she knew from the city that kept her content to let the others exhaust themselves in finding the proper justification of fighting upon the side of "darkness," whatever that entails in this world. Because deep down, it is what every denizen of the city wishes there was. That is why she isn't keen on pushing her request onto Margaret and to allow Sophita and Alexia find their answers first-- for she was curious as to what will be used to placate them into optimal cooperation.

. . .

Arriving at this room of mystery, she took in her surroundings. Registering each piece of furniture, to the great table to the tiniest candle stick. Yet-- when looking upon the deck of cards laid out on the table, she couldn't help but feel something stir within her. An unnerving, filling feeling that didn't trigger her into her battle-hardened senses, but yet was still significant enough to register in her mind. It was like a sneeze gone unfulfilled-- being infinitely close to the trigger but never being able to release. Her eyes fixated for a few moments longer as she racked her mind as to what could be the cause of it-- before simply closing her eyes so that it no longer had to bother her, feigning tiredness. She tilted her head up at Margaret, signaling that she was still attentive, content to listen in place.

 

[Sir Fungus]

“I sincerely wish this scrying pool showed a mere illusion,” Alexia confessed. “It acts as a window to the multiverse. What you see is happening in real-time.”

With Sarah speculating on the causes of such degradation, Alexia began sprinkling glimmering powdered minerals and herbs on the floor around the scrying pool. She stopped to reflect on the unique perspective. "Ideas can be a far-reaching weapon, especially those left to stagnate and go unchallenged. Why do you think that is?" She continued soon after, indicating it was a rhetorical question. "Because every time one's ideals and faith are tested, they see ways they can do better, ways to reform and improve. Without that added push from an opposing side--not necessarily 'evil' or 'darkness'--they remain set in their ways, ignorant to everything outside that bubble of thought. Surely, in your many campaigns, you had such a revelation at some point?"

Margaret beckoned for Sarah and Sophitia to come with her. "I can see you both need assistance. You have more worldly questions," she started, her gaze pointed at Sarah before shifting towards Sophitia. "But you... I can sense the power of your patrons. You may be wondering why one of them endorsed you. I have a room prepared for a seance. There, we can draw upon the power of the subconscious mind to bring forth a solution, or at least the foundation for one." Her yellow eyes also flickered to Angelica. "In your case, I will have to know what you need before we begin. We can discuss that once we reach the room, if you wish." She waited for the three to finish their business before proceeding.

The room Margaret would show them had rich, dark wood furniture with regal blue upholstery and plush carpet. On a large, round table sat a deck of cards, candles, and a few leatherbound books similar to the one Margaret carried, albeit smaller and thinner. There seemed to be no windows--only mirrors from floor to ceiling and from corner to corner. (Moving to the seance room is optional, and you may continue interactions in the chapel.)

The boy known as Soranus approached Agito. "The witches say some things I can't come close to understanding, but the Maiden told me it's their fancy way of saying, 'We have a problem in the multiverse, but you can solve it with a good fight and some finesse.' They said some worlds were destroyed, but they're optimistic you can make whatever ate those worlds spit them back out."

He stared at the Guyver, his eyes drifting up and down while humming in approval. "I like your armor, by the way. It's organic, right?"

------------




At the grand library, all seemed silent. There were no other patrons wandering the perceivable area. In fact, it appeared most denizens of the Conflux gave the library a wide berth. The books inside covered an astoundingly broad range of topics, from more worldly subjects to esoteric magic and theories on the multiverse.

From the top floor, a figure descended, floating down to the first level to meet Doctor Strange and Thirteen. It was a skeleton, clad in weathered robes and carrying a grimoire and a smoky crystal orb. Two points of red light illuminated its empty eye sockets. "I see two creatures out of the entire growing population have mustered the courage to enter these archives," it observed, its aged masculine voice surprisingly clear for an entity without vocal cords. "What brings a liberated construct and a great magician to my temporary abode?"

Agito's Attention was quickly Grabbed by Soranus, looking at him with caution, shuffling away from the group only a few feet. When asked what his armor was made of, Agito nodded and responded "Yes, Created from an Alien species, once it detects your memories, any combat training it might have, it would normally increase one's power, agility, and reflexes 10 times...However, the abilities I normally have...I feel weakened, the only thing I can muster are my Sonic Blades." He withheld any information that might give away the Guyver's weaknesses, however, one would assume by the giant medallion on the forehead that might be of some key importance, Agito was trying his best to put his armor away, however, he couldn't, he was unsure why, but it seemed the Dimension in which the Guyver resides could not be accessed. For now, he was stuck with the Bio Booster armor, but he didn't mind, at least he could move his faceplates so they would see his mouth, as well as allow him to eat when he needed. Agito stood there, arm's crossed as he listened to the great beings closely.

Once their own business had been concluded, Agito returned his attention to the boy, somehow he felt that this kid knew more about Biological armor than he did...And that thought was scary "What business might you have with me?.." He asked, his armor covered face devoid of expression as he stared, anticipating an answer. If this was Agito's new life, he might as well get used to it and start making allies, there was no return back to his world after it had been destroyed, but perhaps this new life of his could give him a chance to destroy the evil's he once sought to rid from all of existance.

 

[SilverFlight]

Thirteen listened intently, at first seeming a bit disheartened at the mention of just how long this magician before them had been honing his skills. Thirteen had only achieved five and already the threat of their mortality loomed. Yet, Strange gave them hope too.
"Push boundaries." Thirteen repeated. They thought for a long time, contemplating the cover of the book that was offered them. Thirteen gave a glance and a slight nod to the seemingly sentient cloak, before thanking Stephen genuinely and accepting it.
"I do not recall when I began asking questions...but I think it is giving me too much credit to claim that I defied my masters openly. If they were there, I obeyed, but...now they are not."

Just then a voice drew them away from their conversation and Thirteen looked up. The skeleton seemed to confuse Thirteen and they tilted their head, thought rushing rapidly behind the light of their eyes.
"You are....dead." The mage said slowly. "And yet, you are not. I have seen bones before, the basic frame of a living thing, but none that move and speak without flesh...I...do not mean to cause offense...if bones can be offended?"
It was clear Thirteen was having trouble processing it, but even so, they clutched their new book to the folds of their loose robe, as if afraid it would be taken away.
It was the first thing Thirteen had ever been offered.
Another brief pause and Thirteen decided that answering the skeleton-mage's question might also save them from slighting the being.

"Doctor Stephen Strange is teaching." Thirteen began, "I am learning."

Xen6n Goonfire

 

[Goonfire]

Margaret kept a stoic face as the two warrior women spoke of their wish for information. “I see,” she said to both while arranging the five candles in a circle roughly twelve inches away from the edge of the table. “I’m afraid contacting a mortal from another world is forbidden. I’m sorry, but I sense you entered this world... after death.” Her expression took a turn towards melancholy upon delivering the news. “Because it would defy the laws governing death in the multiverse, I am forbidden from contacting people directly. I can, however, allow you to gaze in the mirrors and seek answers as I begin our séance. If you require guidance beyond that, I can petition my allies in this conflict to summon the relevant live help.”
BnemonicDevice

Margaret nodded slightly to Sophitia. “Your request can be granted more easily. Your patrons have a strong connection to you, as we have observed. Unlike mortal men, they have more freedom to be seen and heard through the veil.” She then lit a match. The flame jumped from wick to wick in a star formation—or, perhaps, a pentagram. The door had disappeared as they talked, leaving only the mirrors lining the walls without interruption.
Hahli Nuva

“I ask you now to swivel your seats and face the mirrors. Let your minds wander... through time and space... through knowledge and memory... through the physical and the spiritual.”

(This is an opportunity for the characters present to have a brief vision. Through these means, you may reacquire key equipment and the information you need to function, emerging from your vision with them. You may also indirectly probe the minds of the living without speaking to them. If Sarah ( Dmitri Tolenka ) participates, she will likely find a set of mysterious keys in her pocket later.)
——————
Soranus nibbled his thumbnail as he admired the alien suit. “I can use a warframe—a reproduction or, um... ‘clone’ of a human body, infected with a stable technovirus strain and bonded with steel. What I’m getting at is that my ship’s systems might be able to jumpstart your suit’s weapons later, so... Guess I’m offering you a valuable service? Since we’re in this together now.”
Sir Fungus
——————
“Very good! Heheheheh...” The lich cackled in delight. “‘Doctor Stephen Strange’ brought you to a haven for teaching materials. I am Exethanter, and, as you’ve correctly surmised, I am undead. You see, the secrets I once helped others discover were locked deep within vaults in a faraway Domain of Dread. A pity that domain has now been devoured by that horrid Melded Realm!” With his bony fingers, he gestured towards the volumes of divine knowledge lining the walls. “For as long as I haunt these archives, I welcome visitors to fill those starved thinking-meat-organs with the knowledge found here. You are no exception, construct; learn what you can, while you can.”
SilverFlight Xen6n

 

[Xen6n]

"Yeah you did, you asked for my name and if I liked books, that's far from being a cog if you'd ask me"

Stephen listened as Thirteen corrected him on his liberation. "I apologize for the misunderstanding, but still, you did choose to make decisions for yourself, which is impressive from what you once were"

*When Stephen Strange saw the being descending towards them, he also noticed Thirteen turned their attention towards them also. The being was skeletal and was garbed in a red tattered robe, and for a brief moment, Strange would've mistaken it for a regular undead if it wasn't for when they spoke and when he looked directly in their red gaunt eyes. Strange has seen a lich before but it wasn't often a mage back in his world would go as far as transforming themselves into a lich for eternal life, instinctively he tried to mentally open the Eye of Agamotto that hung just below his throat to see if the lich was of any trouble but for some reason, the quasi-sentient artifact didn't respond to his command, this immensely bothered him but he did want to overreact in front of the two and worry. "A lich to be specific, a type of undead, often such a creature is the result of a willful transformation, as a powerful wizard skilled in necromancy who seeks eternal life uses rare substances in a magical ritual to become undead or performing magic they don't understand. Unlike zombies, which are often depicted as mindless, liches are sapient, retaining their previous intelligence and magical abilities. Liches are often depicted as holding power over lesser undead soldiers and servants, and sometimes great magical power.", he said to Thirteen and observed the lich, using his rough and somewhat gravely voice to it. "I was just speaking to Thirteen here, he was the one who was drawn to this place of knowledge, so since you're the keeper of this library, is there any...sort of enchantment of runes that prevents magic or objects of power from being used?" Stephen had to ask because right now he's becoming quite agitated about not being able to use one of his most valued artifacts, he couldn't understand why he was unable to communicate with the amulet and how he couldn't sense this change when he got here, he could've used magic but something was telling him that wasn't the full truth and it had something to do with what the person called Margeret.

'You may not feel as strong as you should, due to the unusual state of the veil you crossed to reach this place. In the meantime, I can help retrieve any items you left behind, or re-establish contact with any patrons you may have'

Remembering the words of what the lady said, he massaged the bridge of his nose in frustration, he didn't pay much to what they said because he knew that his magical abilities were learned and he didn't believe the transport to his world would hinder his connection to the beings he invokes. He didn't know how his other magical capabilities were affected but he prayed to the Vishanti that it wasn't bad

Spoiler: Explanation on Principalities

Mystic Principalities, or simply Principalities, were higher beings invoked for power. Many have been described as both gods and demons, or neither. Virtually all of these beings are of extradimensional origin.

A few mortal sorcerers, such as Agamotto and Watoomb, transcended their existence and managed to become principalities. Under the guidance of Agamotto and Oshtur, the Oshtur-created Bird-Men of Akah Ma'at evolved into the Winged Lords, almost godlike entities. Some of them joined a faction known as the Seraphim, who ultimately became principalities.

Confirmed principalities included Agamotto, Balthakk, Cinnibus, Dyzakk (the dimension Dyzakk was also a source of power), Farallah, Hoggoth, Krakkan, Nirvalon, Raggadorr, Ryzzanel, Sulfindum, Urzuu, Valtorr, Watoomb, Cyttorak, Ikonn, Chthon, Denak, Dormammu and Umar, the Faltine, Ikthalon, Munnopor, Nightmare, Oshtur, Satannish, and the Seraphim, and others.

Countless other entities are invoked for power, including demons (including the Old Ones), gods, abstract entities, and many other unidentified beings (or even locations).

Stephen tried to manually open the Eye of Agamotto, but nothing happened. He sighed in discontent and looked over to the lich, awaiting his answer.

Goonfire SilverFlight

 

[Dmitri Tolenka]

"Ideas can be a far-reaching weapon, especially those left to stagnate and go unchallenged. Why do you think that is?" She continued soon after, indicating it was a rhetorical question. "Because every time one's ideals and faith are tested, they see ways they can do better, ways to reform and improve. Without that added push from an opposing side--not necessarily 'evil' or 'darkness'--they remain set in their ways, ignorant to everything outside that bubble of thought. Surely, in your many campaigns, you had such a revelation at some point?"

This made a great deal of sense at least. Entirely at ease with the role of student, Sarah simply nodded along attentively.

Until Margaret singled her out, with… was that disapproval?

“Wordly?” Sarah repeated, slightly confused. Did she do something wrong? Why would that be an entirely separate category? Surely they could see that the material and the mental were two sides of the same coin, inseparably linked? She silently followed, observed and pondered. The seance took place in a room that breathed relic and ritual. Sarah hesitated at the entrance, eyes wide and mouth open.

“Books?!”

Whatever lore the mystic woman stored here was obviously important to be given this expensive treatment. Books! Not electronic flimsies, but piles of honest to God books! Sarah barely remembered a single time she was allowed near such hallowed knowledge. She breathed deeply.

Leather bound tomes?!

Her hand halted halfway to actually touching the holy relics. She closed her eyes and centered herself. With a guilty glance at the fancy office lady and the amazon she brusquely strode past, she shuffled back to sit in a seat among them like students awaiting instruction.

These did not belong to her.

“Question, do you mean that in the sense of physical laws that cannot be broken? Or is there some enforcer that may be bargained with?” she questioned. Sarah would honestly like to say she asked out of altruism with the office lady, but in her heart she knew it to be simple curiosity. Maybe they could figure out some way to help office lady, maybe not. Sarah would love the journey of discovery either way.

“I ask you now to swivel your seats and face the mirrors. Let your minds wander... through time and space... through knowledge and memory... through the physical and the spiritual.”

She lowered her hood, and allowed her hair to fall freely. Just for a brief instant, as her red locks burst free, the others could see a flash of silver and gray studs and lines on her neck.

Sarah stared at the flames, then turned her gaze to her reflection. Here she stood, a simple thin figure in a cloak a little too wide for her. Frail flesh and blood, with only a few key upgrades.

From all she heard and experienced today, she felt it to be a call.

It could be the smoke from the candles, but she briefly saw a flash of herself in her coolant vest.

She needed a purpose. An honest, better purpose. Would this battle be it?

Her hands dripped red.

The smoke changed scents. Acrid and burning.

Sarah changed again. Now she sat not in a comfortable chair with others, but in a cockpit seat, alone. Strapped in tight.

The smoke… the smoke. She could see the smoke again. The city burned around her. Her fingers, massive armoured ceramic pillars, twitched. She blinked/sent a sensor ping out. Mall, bearing 030, range 230m fully destroyed. Houses around, urban sprawl, most near or past complete structural collapse. Bodies.

left leg status amber/armour compromised
damage to muscle 53%

So many bodies.

In the ‘real’ world, Sarah simply sagged to the side, half asleep yet with eyes wide in shock.

right leg status black/destroyed
cockpit status…

They stared at her with unblinking, hollow eyes.

Motion BRG 079 RNG 500+ closing IFF tag (friendly) LCT-1Vb “Thomas Bergson”.

A Locust. One of the smallest mechs ever made. A high speed recon unit. A unit best suited to fight infantry, and maybe harass some heavier units. The red stains on it’s feet marred it’s otherwise pristine white paint job. The arms of the machine twitched, as four lenses pointed at Sarah. She practically snarled. That was not a friendly. No more.

IFF set
LCT-1Vb = “hostile 1”

Nothing happened. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t do a damn thing.

cockpit status black/destroyed

Sarah’s eyes went wide as she arced back in a silent scream.

“No. No…”

She was back in the hall of mirrors. She was back. She was safe. Shuddering, Sarah collapsed back in on herself. Something wet ran down her back. Sweat?

She absentmindedly ran her hand down the back of her neck as she tried to process what she just saw, and what she’d just felt.

Her hand came back, and it was a bloody red. Actual bloody red this time, she could smell the iron and feel the wetness. One of her implants, probably the DNI port. She could feel something happened to her mind. It was extremely likely that something did not play nice with her highly sensitive implants.

“Oh dear.” she said simply, in complete shock. What just happened?

"I. I may need a medic." Sarah continued in complete monotone. "Please."

Hahli Nuva BnemonicDevice

 

[darkred]

Marcus blinked, listening to the speech, trying to piece out the new information. The cyborg had never experienced a full on vision before so this was all new to him.

His death in the multiverse had happened, but would the timeline of his own change due to him not being there to stop John Connor from dying himself? He stared down voices telling him that he can recover his items that he'd left behind.

Marcus watched in the reflection, John Connor and him were fighting a gorey battle against a serial killer named Thomas Parnell who had let power go to his head. John shook his head in literal shock as Resistance soldiers would fall in different but not less gory or bloody than anyone else. There had to be a way to stop this now.

A knock on the base's door.

The soldiers and John must of been hearing things

Their savior never came.

Instead Marcus laid there, buried alive.

Marcus felt the weight of dirt on him and gritted his teeth

"DAMNIT CONNOR! Why weren't you able to stop Skynet by yourself?!"

The cyborg terminator felt himself squeezing his hand hard and blood running out.

It was like he'd never saved Connor.

"NO!"

Goonfire
​

 

[BnemonicDevice]

Margaret kept a stoic face as the two warrior women spoke of their wish for information. “I see,” she said to both while lighting the five candles and arranging them in a circle roughly twelve inches away from the edge of the table. “I’m afraid contacting a mortal from another world is forbidden. I’m sorry, but I sense you entered this world... after death.” Her expression took a turn towards melancholy upon delivering the news. “Because it would defy the laws governing death in the multiverse, I am forbidden from contacting people directly. I can, however, allow you to gaze in the mirrors and seek answers as I begin our séance. If you require guidance beyond that, I can petition my allies in this conflict to summon the relevant live help.”

So it was confirmed. Angelica had feared for the worst upon waking up in this new world. The loss of her baby bump and this drained feeling of malaise that accompanied her ever since. The grimace that the pale librarian put forth in front of her spoke volumes in confirmatory signals. There was no denying it-- yet as much as she prepared for the deaths of others-- of her employers, her comrades, her husband, and her twin brother-- she was never really prepared for it herself. She didn't expect to go so soon-- was it her naiveté that caught up to her?

Stunned into silence, she merely nodded her head and took a seat in front of the mirrors--

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. She was preparing for what was to come ahead-- not too unfamiliar with magicks and augmentations that allow others to perform superhuman feats like peering into the future or to dig back into one's past-- no, it was because she knew of the Singularities of the City that she became anxious. It was as if she were back at that dreaded facility many years ago...

As she pushed off the ground and let herself spin and spin--

. . .

A sharply dressed man in black was seen in his apartment, with the photo of his wife and his best friend laying smashed on the coffee table. His suit stained with the blood of strangers and dribbles of alcohol from cans of beer.

Angelica-- standing before him, pouted, yet-- because her presence stirred no reaction in the man, she began to walk forward and began to pick up the shards of glass that lay scattered on the floor-- only to find such tiny fragments immobile to her touch.

How? Why? Were the immediate questions that entered her mind. She suddenly felt a sharp migraine come about-- squeezing her eyes tight in frustration-- as the scene shifted.

. . .

Again, the man in black was seen, this time with a blade in hand. He was quick as lightning and as calamitous as thunder. She could see his opponents, uniformed members of The Middle, being teared and ripped to shreds by this man.

Yet, as the mountain of corpses piled behind him-- it wasn't just The Middle that he struck upon-- Wings, Syndicates, independent Research Facilities, Offices, all of them could proffer no answer to the lamenting widower. Seething in rage, he collapsed onto the ground, tears welling up, dripping down the outlines of his Black Mask.

Above him hovered a man in Blue-- with an embroidered cape, a conductor's baton-- marks of a refined man, of sublime and exquisite taste, whose impression is only soured by the psychopathic smile that adorned his face as he clutched the handle of his own blade, and--

. . .

"ARGALIA STOP--!" Angelica leapt out of her seat, putting up her gloves, prepared to fight-- yet she could feel something in her hands-- both of them. She blinked, looking down finding a Sword-- and a Mask, both of Black. Falling into her knees, her eyes grew wide in horror, her head shaking and her hands trembling, uncharacteristically so for the stoic. She loomed there, paralyzed by grief, trying to recover from the trauma associated with her vision.

. . .

Goonfire Hahli Nuva Dmitri Tolenka

 

[Hahli Nuva]

The golden sun was just starting to set over Athens. Many business owners had begun to close up shop, with the Alexandra Bakery following suit. Sophitia found herself back in her old home, among the scent of freshly baked bread. She could hear familiar banging in the background, signaling that yes, her beloved husband was home. The blonde bombshell smiled softly until she noticed that she was still dressed in her combat attire.

"...I don't understand... I thought it was all a dream..." she said to herself. Just then, Rothion entered from the back door. He noticed his wife and walked over, smiling as he pulled her close and kissed her softly.

"You look divine as always." the blacksmith observed, taking Sophitia by the hand and leading her outside. "Come. I have something to show you."

"Rothion, I-I don't understand..." Sophitia started. Rothion chuckled and walked them over to the nearby table.

"Come here. Do you see this? I made these for you." Rothion explained, revealing Sophitia's divine weapons, freshly smithed and pristine.

"Rothion..." Sophitia exclaimed, tears brimming in her eyes. The result of their devotion to the light, as strong and stalwart as the very sword and shield they had been blessed with to cut through the encroaching darkness. Sophitia gingerly brushed her hand against the armaments. She could feel their divine energy coursing through the metal, as if it were alive. As she took them in her hands, their familiar energy seeped into her body, giving her the knowledge and power she would need to face the challenges ahead.

"Thank you. I couldn't do this without you."

"I cannot be there with you in person. But as you cut down the Malfested, I will comfort you with each swing of your blade. I do this with as much love and attention as I can muster. Good luck, Sophitia. Take these, and return home to us one day."

Sophitia opened her mouth to reply, but the world began to turn white and in a few moments she found herself back in her chair, in the room with all the mirrors.

"Rothion...." Sophitia mumbled.

Goonfire

 

[Goonfire]

Margaret rose with a sudden motion, then paced briskly around the table towards Sarah. She placed a hand on the pilot’s head, examining the blood flow. “Ah, I can help,” she stated with confidence. Flipping through her grimoire with practiced speed, she came to a page from which a tarot card rose. “Oberon.”

The card shattered like glass, yet the shards faded before they could fall. A foot-tall faerie man wearing a crown and holding a saber materialized in mid-air. With a wave of his hand, cyan light surrounded each person in the room. They experienced a wave of relief as any physical pain they felt numbed and faded. Sarah’s bleeding ceased, her remote injuries mending.

Sophitia witnessed further strange phenomena while this happened. In the mirrors, she could see the image of her patron god, Hephaestus. He reached out and appeared to be speaking, but there was no sound. Soon, the image faded away; no one except Sophitia had seen it. In her hands were the sword and shield she always carried into battle, Rothion’s masterpieces.

Marcus, who had joined at the last minute, felt a certain weight that had caused him to shift in his seat at some point. His standard weaponry had been restored and he was ready for battle.

Margaret checked on each person after her healing spell was complete and Oberon vanished. She gracefully knelt beside Angelica. “I’m terribly sorry. These séances tend to yield grim visions. Remember these are shadows of things that could be or could have been, as time is not linear.”
BnemonicDevice Hahli Nuva darkred Dmitri Tolenka
——————
“Very good,” Exethanter cooed as Doctor Strange recited facts of a lich’s existence. “Practically a dictionary definition and then some. There are three common problems with my kind: One is the reliance on a phylactery to store our souls. Second, we must sustain ourselves on souls; after a couple centuries of starvation, we deteriorate physically and mentally. Third and most importantly, most liches suffer from ambition that exceeds even their capabilities. Cliché as it may sound, their hubris is their downfall.”

The lich observed the Sorcerer Supreme attempting to use his artifacts to no avail. He stroked his bare jawbone. “While there are runes in place to protect these archives from powerful destructive spells, there is nothing stopping other beneficial enchantments. At least... that is what my own divination tell me. Now... my turn for Q&A. Did that witch in the castle summon you?”
Xen6n SilverFlight
——————
In the chapel, Alexia had been laboring away, chanting under her breath and writing esoteric runes with shimmering, gemstone-laced chalk. She then raised her scepter and plunged it headfirst into the scrying pool. The image rippled and shifted into that of a starry night sky. The water began to swirl rapidly.

Alexia then traced a sigil in the air and spoke up. “Attention: the portal is ready. Once you are all gathered, the mission to retrieve our sister ‘Bayonetta’ will be underway.” Her voice registered in the mind of every person she had brought to the Conflux. Their brief respite was over.

Count Gensokyo Sir Fungus

 

[BnemonicDevice]

Stunned into silence, the black berserker traced the outer rim of the face shield. The initial waves of confusion dying out as she soon grounded herself in reality. After hearing Margaret console her, she gave a slight, curt nod. "...Is it possible for me re-enter my world, just at a-- different time?" She asked the Librarian, wanting to know if there was anything she could do post mortem. This kind of guttural emptiness, seeing both her brother and her husband give into despair... it shook the stoic to her core.

It was then she heard Alexia's call to action. She looked down at the mask, her attention now wandered to how Roland managed to repair it when she once shattered it long before. She placed it around her face, and could feel a barrier be set up around her head, something that would block any attempt to peer beyond its confines. She then turned her focus upon the sword and hilt that she was gifted as well-- Durendal. It was the blade the marked Roland as the leader of Charles's Office and its Thirteen Fixers. It is said to be indestructible and unbending, blunt and to the point-- but, as with all of their weapons, muffles any sound around them. These thirteen weapons in Angelica's possession, now completed-- are worthy to be called an Assassin's arsenal.

"It seems we are called to action. Shall we depart?" she found her voice to be distorted, any soft and delicate intonations that Angelica once made were replaced with a gritty, static monotone. She looked onward to the staggering Sophita, Sarah, and Marcus. It wasn't that she was oblivious to their suffering, rather-- a Fixer is trained to press forward in spite of it. To an outsider, besides the black get up that identified her as the Black SIlence, from the face up, it was as if an entirely different person was present. She had now steeled herself for whatever this mission entails.

Goonfire Hahli Nuva Dmitri Tolenka darkred