-GM-

Nemera, after a week of slumming around Mac Anu, still hadn't managed to rid herself of the glum cloud that hung above. Everything that had happened in the Gan Prison Field continued to weigh on her, to drag behind her like an iron ball. For the second field in a row, someone had paid the price of the Eventide Crescendo's call for help. Sure, Raven had been recruited several fields back, but it didn't change what happened in Vak or what was almost undoubtedly going to happen in Juk. It was as if 'The World' was balancing out their struggle and their victories by humbling them with imprisonment and emotional defeat. It wasn't an easy war to wage, but part of the Heavy Blade knew she had no room to complain. The Freedom Fighters, a group she had visited nearly a week ago to drop off Raven's injured body, had to face a power much more devastating. Still, in a way, she envied them. Though the woman had never met an Elite face-to-face, she had heard enough about them to simply associate them with megalomaniacs. They had normal darkness that came with greed and power, but in a twisted kind of way...it was the expected sort; the 'normal' sort. The Highers? The more Prison Fields that the Eventides visited, the more soul-destroying the things that transpired seemed to become. The Highers, though perhaps once people, had morphed into beings of psychosis and evil.

That word, evil, wasn't something Nemera liked to toss around on a whim. Too many did and, in effect, it had lost some of its meaning. She could apply it to them without a flinch, without so much as a bat of an eye. The Rue field had proven to be easy-going for the most part, but since Vak she had endured the loss of her lover and love, stories of murdered children by their mother, experimentation on youth for the purpose of enslavement and a son of a bitch bringing in his own two kids to further the purposes of their black syndicate. There was something about the kids. It wasn't a pattern that Nemera had been blind to, of course. Maybe Twilight sought them out like rocket fuel or, perhaps more truthfully, the Highers had a sick fascination with them. Seeing as Twilight did reliably shift based on human emotion and younger people tend to have such things blunted much less, it made those same people targets for a group that seeks to turn the human heart into weapons of mass destruction. All in all, it made her stomach turn. When Gyl had successfully used the Gan Incarnation Crystal to track down Juk's location, she felt a part of herself wither in the face of what she knew was to come. Everyone, even Sidhe, looked to her to lead and she was only just beginning to realize how hard Tiral must have had it.

God, Tiral...

Ping.

Having just dipped her face into the welcoming cup of her hands at the thought of Tiral burning alive, for them, for her, the Flashmail and its contents jerked her into a stiffer posture. Wiping away the first of halted tears, Nemera couldn't help but laugh. If Raquar had been there, she would have hugged him. Alright, alright. She would have thought about hugging him. The message had sobered her up, had forced her to gather up her composure. It was good that he wanted to talk because that's exactly what she needed from him. When Gyl had Flashmailed her links to send to the group and told her what the images said, she feared they wouldn't get the help they needed. Part of her had been glad, glad that she wouldn't have to risk anymore lives because of it, but the other was petrified of failing when they were just getting their momentum back. With someone like the Long Arm to answer questions that Gyl had promised would get them, the crowd that would amass in eager attention to have 'The World' finally laid out bluntly before them wouldn't be disappointed. Maybe, just maybe, they'd have even more than they expected. Sekai had already promised her presence, along with another player that was supposed to be reliable, so those two in combination with those that had responded to the thread should make for quite a force to bring knocking on the wrought-iron gates of Juk.

Speaking of the BBS responders, Sidhe was already in the process of rounding all of them up. The process was slow, of course, elapsing over the course of what felt like two hours but could have indeed been much longer, but it was a necessary evil. Gyl couldn't have exactly just posted, 'Come meet us in the alleyways if you're interested.' After all, the Knights of War were already in increasingly worrisome numbers within the Water Capital. The BBS message had been enough to accomplish that. The one thing that kept the Long Arm from completely freaking out as he'd pass them, thoughts momentarily on the handful of times he had spotted Kamui from afar, was the fact that none of the Knights knew what the Eventide leaders looked like. They could look at his name, sure, but Gyl had given Nemera and him a little executable program that made their names seem like another's. Twilight already made tracking them by character data impossible, so that base was covered as well. When it came down to it, though they didn't need to worry about being caught by the patrol in general, slapping up a meeting location in the message board would have been ludicrous. Thus, there Sidhe was, slinking around town and gathering the group person by person. The moment the players had responded to the BBS thread, Gyl had also put temporary name and character data scramblers on them. It'd give them four or five hours to leave Mac Anu without suspicion which is far, far more than they'd need.

Would they notice the tweaks? Maybe, but it'd take a fairly observant individual. The changes were subtle, temporary and fluxing. Out of the corner of their eye they'd see a stream of data, perhaps. Another might notice their clothes are slightly the wrong shade one moment and perfect the next. When they left Mac Anu for Dun Loireag and onto Juk, the scrambler would be disabled. For now, though, it allowed Sidhe to approach them without too much blatant cloak-and-dagger bullshit. Whenever he'd pass them, be it Talal, Shenmock, Baron, Takua or Exangelus (Sekai having received coordinates via Flashmail for her and her friend), he'd mutter his name and a request to be followed. If they did? They did. If they didn't? Same thing. Either way, the ones that did follow would find themselves in one of Mac Anu's famous back alleys, led down a labyrinth path that would be just as difficult to wade out from as it was to slip into. It left them gathered around a stack of crates that, at the moment, Nemera was standing on with her hands behind her back like some kind of general or something. When the last person had been led in, the Long Arm came to stand on the ground next to her, making the whole thing seem a little cheeseball. When it came down to it, Nemera was trying to prove something and, for most, simply being incredible heads taller than them (despite standing on boxes) did just that. She was the head honcho, she was the Big Man, she was the freaking president of the world; the point was made.

Was it arrogance that fueled it? No, no. With memories of Raven's infection flashing before her eyes, of Raquar's and Sekai's before him, she wasn't going to let anyone do anything but follow her orders. After all, if she was careful, if they did everything she said, they could very well come out of this Prison Field without another coma victim in toe. It was a child's dream, she had come to accept, but it wasn't something she was ready to let go of quite yet. Looking down at the miniature army of eager eyes and fidgeting bodies, she couldn't help but wonder what they'd ask first, all the while ignoring the small ache in her heart at Centrus' absence. There was so much that needed to be said before that, but there wasn't exactly a guarantee that they wouldn't want everything right then right now. People of 'The World' had been known for their demands of instant gratification. Opening her mouth, closing it, and rinse and repeating this process for a good five minutes, the co-leader of the Eventide Crescendo finally knew exactly what needed to be said. It wasn't words, no. Most people needed to be shocked into silence in situations exactly like this. She had originally planned to save the URL Flashmail for later, but right then seemed like a perfect opportunity before the twitchy-looking male Twin Blade got any ideas to speak up.

And then...they waited.

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

((OOC:

And it's finally here! As I've mentioned, the deadline for the next post is still the 12th. I just wanted to get this up early because I'm eager and what not. Before you even think of posting, make sure you have your post up in the BBS v.2 thread so I can close it. I think we're only waiting on Exangelus for that. Ex, if you've changed your mind about the quest, tell me ASAP. Also, before you post, wait for Raquar to post up his. He'll be going over an initial speech of sorts and, at the end, ask your characters what questions they have. If you want to ask any, it's up to you to IM/PM him and script some of those so you can put them in your post. If not, just post observations and what not. A sort of field-pending post, if you will.

Now, I want to go over something. There has been a thing Lyra and I have noticed that I'd like to attempt to change. When someone scripts, unless it's a really important line, and they've already put it in their own posts? There's no reason to put it in yours. It takes up space and it makes grading more of a pain in the ass later. Try to only involve scripting exclusive to your post or lines from other posts that need particular attention. Otherwise? You can still respond to what's been said (i.e. "Nemera's snarky comment barked at Shenmock was hardly necessary, but amusing just the same.") without actually saying what she said first. Everyone will know by just looking at the proper post.

Also, yes, this thread is in Theta but starts in Mac Anu. I did this because, if it wasn’t obvious, the Juk field is going to be in Theta. Just thought I’d clarify. Second, the links? The URL your characters will see will be an imagehoster, but it won't be photobucket and it won't be that account. That's all, if even that, that they'll need to note.

Anyway, enjoy!

:OOC))

He hadn’t been awake for very long, long enough to convince Sekai to leave him in peace, and to tell Ciar that he needed time, but it hadn’t been long. He had received the flashmail response from Nemera, thrown on the clothes that had been left on the chair, and been out. He could barely walk, his entire body had been scarred, and the sash was rewrapped around his left arm to hide the permanent burns that laced that area. He knew he shouldn’t be pushing himself so, but there were things to do. Like he had said earlier, recuperation would come soon, just not now.

He was still shaky as he left the gate to head back to Mac Anu, and as of such, he experienced a first time phenomenon. He gated into the field onto his knees. He coughed spurts of blood out onto the cobblestones, which of course led to lots of unwanted attention. Waving people off, he struggled to his feet and hobbled off the bridge. He knew he wasn’t going the right way, but he would likely be followed after that little display, and a little misdirection would be in order. After quick pit stops at the Magic and Item shops, and having shaken his last tail, he ducked to the side into the designated alleyway. He didn’t know how many turns he had to take, and had lost There was already a small group, but there was one person who stood a head above the rest. And it was this person that he slowly made his way up too, and proceeded to wrap both arms around her and lift her off her fit in the strongest embrace he could muster at the moment.

He turned around a gave a brief nod to his fellow Long Arm, before turning to the group gathered in front of the pile of crates that had made Nemera so tall. Drawing himself up, and stifling a cough, tasting the acidic iron as it slid down his throat. He would probably pay for that later, but he needed to appear strong for this aspect. He cleared his throat before addressing the crowd.

”Ladies and Gentlemen, for those of you that don’t and even those of you that do, my name is Raquar. I was a member of the Eventide Crescendo for its first two excursions before circumstances forced me away. To start things off, I have been informed of CC Corp’s actions and words regarding this group. I will make this clear, and say this only once. The Eventides are not Cyber Terrorists, nor are they a bad group. Anyone who disbelieves this should leave now, before they get killed.” He drew his spear for emphasis.

”Beyond that, let me see if I can give you all a bit of information about this. You, as a group, are working against a group called the Highers. They are hackers of some prowess, stronger than the Hackers you would normally run into. They work for a group called the Elites, who are based out of the Yamiyo Server. From what I can gather, in the last field, there was some conversation of shipping people or things to Yamiyo. This group works at disrupting Higher activity and dealing with them while another group works on dealing with the Elites themselves. What you are doing does help, we’ve managed to destroy some of the more important workings and projects as well as recruit some allies in the process.

Now, for some of the more important things to know. There are hazards, moreso than normal. Besides your normal monsters and such, there is something called Dread Code, more commonly known as DC. Is looks like a stream of data, orange in color, and stay away from it all costs. It basically dumps you into the field, and as of such, is not good. Stay away from it all costs. Another thing to be wary of, is the Tar. It probably won’t show up in this next field, but if you see anything resembling a clone of yourself, you’re in for a bitch of a fight.”

He was tired, and it was starting to show in his stature and the haggardness that rounded his eyes. ”Any individual questions can be directed to me if you so choose.”

Last thing to take care of, was a quick flashmail.

He thought that summed it up. Wearily, he dropped onto the pile of crates behind him, and waited.

~Real World~

Dark, stormy, and dull. Those three words described what it looked like outside. James sat there, staring out the window as rain poured down and kids scurried to their homes to get under some cover. He enjoyed the rain, but after hearing rumbles of thunder from outside, he wasn’t going to brave the storm just to get himself wet. Lightning struck down far away in the fields. James flinched at the sight of the flash of light, but continued to look outside at the storm. The clouds were a dark gray color as they usually were, a sign of anger and sadness forming inside of it. He wondered what they had done to deserve thunder and lightning. Rain was bad enough, causing all those floods, but thunder and lightning? Weren’t those just for evildoings like setting things on fire and scaring off little kids? Or were there other things to do with them. The storm somehow reminded him of ‘The World’. There were two sides to everything. He had learned that from both his own experience, and seeing it himself. He just hoped, he hoped that the bad would change sides someday. Someday, someway…

James’ eyes wandered off into the distance of the fields that were lain out far into the distance. He blinked for a moment, watching the drops of rain crash into his window, then slide down into the gutter, only to be washed away to the ground. His eyes flashed a bit as a light came from another cloud in the distance. It was quite dark where he was. It was growing late out, but it was likely sunny in ‘The World’. Sunny, nice, and a place where he could enjoy himself. Well, right after he had signed up for that BBS thing, it almost didn’t sound that nice. And he thought PKers were a problem? Ha! What about the numerous hackers and glitches in the games? He had seen a few himself, and he expected that the others who had signed up had too. After seeing the thread, he had seen a guy named Takua sign up who he didn’t know, a guy named Centrus sign up, and then the last three; him, Baron, and Talal. He only knew Baron and Talal, but it was at least good to have them around him, right? Maybe another person would join that he knew? He didn’t as much since he hardly knew anyone high enough to go into this. He was level seventeen at the moment, a Long Arm with some good skills and weapons. Baron probably had some rares, hence calling himself a treasure hunter. Talal probably had some good stuff of her own. He probably would be a bit low, but he’d hold his own and show that he had skill. His eyes wandered off to the bare, white feet that were in front of him. But…what about the real thing that was happening at hand? Was he really supposed to just go into some random thing and fight off hackers? He sure as heck wanted to, but what about the rumors, the people that had disappeared, and the rest of the mysterious things? Was he supposed to just forget about that? So many questions flowed through his mind. The only thing he could think about was this: he had to figure it out or else he’d wonder about it for years, yet never find out. He just hoped, he hoped…that he would be okay in this. He’d protect his comrades and they would protect him, right? Or did he need protecting? James slapped his head and stopped thinking for a moment. His whole body was quivering with excitement and fear. He had to stop thinking about it or else he’d just not go. He cleared his mind, took a deep breath, and calmed down.

James closed the blinds and got up, looking over at the cat that stood on his bed, staring at him with piercing blue eyes. He stared at it. “Scram,” he said, pushing it away, but it didn’t budge. “I said…scram!” He shoved it off the bed, making it let out a hiss and race off back to its kitty hotel. He frowned at the bed, where a small stain was. He cracked his knuckles, but didn’t go after the cat. He’d make a racket and the last thing he wanted to do was wake up his mom. He imagined a cat on her face and him jumping after it and landing on her. He pushed the thought away and slapped himself. Don’t think about that, James. Just do something else…like ‘The World’ or something like that. He decided in doing so and took a seat in his chair. The screen came up, the word ‘Altimit’ in the middle, a few pictures around it, some including game photos from ‘The World’, others showing anime characters in their greatest fighting bouts. He smiled and clicked on the icon for ‘The World’, quickly typing in his Username and Password. In a second, the word ‘Confirmed’ came up. He pulled on the VR goggles, adjusted them, and started it up. “Welcome to ‘The World’,” he mumbled to himself, a grin on his face.

~The World: Aqua Capital Mac Anu~

Three golden rings descended, revealing a Long Arm, who had regular overalls almost like a regular person. Well, except for his hair color. He wore his jacket, shirt, and regular pants today. He had visited the Pawn Shop recently and picked up the Stormer Spear, adding a Rai attack to his arsenal. The player stretched his arms and yawned a bit before looking out at the white clouds as they drifted past the sun. Another beautiful day in Mac Anu, like always. He looked at the sun again. It was going down a bit, so that meant his time wasn’t far off, but he didn’t really care. He looked around at the players that surrounded him. Most were logging off, others off to do their last quests of the day or just go meet someone to talk a while. Others stood wandering about Mac Anu or walking into the shops to buy some good stuff like items, weapons, or anything else that they would need on their quest. Shenmock looked around, but didn’t smile at anyone. An envelope popped over his head, floating around and bouncing on his head. He grabbed it and looked the envelope over. It looked like a regular envelope to him, but just virtual. He opened it up and moved to the corner, leaning against a wall to read it. It looked to be about the quest on the BBS. Was it him, or was he lucky to get on right when it was sent? Or was he late? Or…did it really matter? He frowned and started reading.

He only stared at the end of the flash-mail. ‘Still want to be here?’ He gulped and opened the first article, then started reading it. He stopped halfway through the article. So, the creators of the game were pretty much after them? Once he joined this, people were going to be after him almost all the time? That was kind of scary in his personal opinion. He read on, finishing the first article. School kids can pretty much only use computers for school-appropriate things? His eyes widened. Then, once he joined this thing, he was committed, and if he turned back mid-way, it was going to be hard. That was all he could thing. Should he do it, or should he not? They said it was only to help those in need, but was he supposed to trust them, or everyone else? Well, obviously them since they posted it up, but how was he supposed to know?

He opened up the next article and skimmed through it. It was about people being hospitalized. He had heard only a tint about this, but seeing the reason almost was too big for him to miss out on. If he could ask questions on things like this, he could find some answers in this game. Answers were good, but trouble was bad. Which was the side to choose on? He chose answers, but at the moment almost took it as a joke, though deep down, there was a voice trying to break out and make him turn off the game and forget about it. It was too dangerous for him to do, but it wasn’t like he was going to miss out on one of the biggest experiences of his life? He stopped asking himself questions for a moment. He was going whether he liked it or not. James forced down the analog stick and his PC started moving from his place leaning on the wall. He moved down the stairs and stopped for a moment, watching everyone as they passed him. He looked back. There was no turning back. He closed his eyes and turned. He started walking forward. He would do this, and he would survive whether people liked it or not.

His heart skipped a beat as he remembered the chance of getting into a…coma. He stopped cold in his tracks, his heart beat quickening a bit. There was only a chance, but dying just for answers? What was the point of that? He forced himself to move forward. He was supposed to find a Long Arm that went by the name of Sidhe. He was a Long Arm too, so he knew what to look for. The person who had posted it up, Gyl, never had said anything about making an appearance. All he had heard about was Sidhe leading them to where they were to go. He crossed the bridge, his eyes wandering about Mac Anu. He noticed multiple people walking in and out of stores, but no Long Arm that seemed to stand out even the slightest bit. He walked past the bridge and down to the dead end. He looked over to the right side, but saw nobody. He shrugged and looked the other way. At first, he saw nothing, then he noticed a shadow. He raised a brow. Was that him? Or was that some person just wondering if someone would notice the shadow. He walked slowly forward, forcing the analog stick forward. He picked up a bit of speed, but not that much. He swallowed once and took a deep breath.

“Hey, would you happen to be…Sidhe, from the post on the BBS? The name’s Shenmock, a Long Arm who posted there in hopes of joining you. Would this be it, or am I going the wrong direction?” He felt like slapping himself after that sentence. If that person wasn’t Sidhe, he was going to literally strangle himself, but if not, he’d just be glad that he hadn’t made a fatal mistake that would’ve spelled certain doom for him. He nodded. Inside, Shenmock was quite happy that it was him, but on the outside, he was silent, freaked out, and a bit uneasy about his decision altogether. He followed the man through the alleyway. It was dark here. He kept on having to step over himself, but he never tripped or anything. He wasn’t going to be clumsy in a video game, was he? It’d show that he was a complete idiot. He followed him until he found himself facing a tower of boxes, a woman standing on top.

Eventually everyone started coming around him. Everyone had arrived, at least he thought he saw everyone. He still stood there, frozen where he was standing, not wanting to talk until it was really needed for him. Finally, a Long Arm came up, and started talking about the hackers. He must’ve been Raquar, the one who was going to tell them about stuff. He listened intently, but didn’t dare ask questions. Someone else would do that, right? His mouth was closed shut, a look of awe in his eyes. So, there were more people after them then what he was told? That was just perfect! This was going to be troublesome to say the least. He frowned, but didn’t ask questions about it after he finished. He’d find everything out in the field, and he pretty much knew a lot more after hearing about these hackers. James was shivering in his room. Fear crawled over him. His life wouldn’t be the same any more. He was sure of it.

Now there was no going back.

It all started with that message on the BBS. Baron had to admit, when he saw it, that it had attracted his curiosity. From the title, to the message within, something about it screamed “unusual.” The male Twin Blade had looked over the message again, wondering if he had misunderstood or something. There was no way that a message for such a possibility of real danger would be allowed to remain on the BBS for long, though the part at the end about the Admins attacking it added a bit of potential truth to it. Baron hadn’t been sure whether or not to believe it, but it seemed that this group planned to do something to help The World. If that was the case, Baron wasn’t planning on passing up the opportunity to do his part as well, especially since he had no leads on the Zodiac. Perhaps this thread would be his first.

The Zodiac- a group of thirteen AIs, each of them embodying a different quality based on their mythological counterparts. The Zodiac, after a half-life that only existed in The World, wanted to take complete control of their world. Thus, they worked to find a way to eliminate the users of The World. Baron had only met three of them: the two Gemini and Libra. After a long battle to the death- literally, for the AIs- Baron was able to defeat the Gemini, through a little assistance from Libra. The embodiment of balance had evened the odds between Baron and the more powerful Gemini, since Libra was on the side of The World. However, in the process, Baron had been given the mission to defeat the rest of the Zodiac. Libra had sacrificed himself, as well, by giving the Twin Blade his data and a bit of his appearance. It wasn’t a drastic change or anything, since the two were nearly identical anyway.

Baron unconsciously reached for the bandana that used to hang around his head, only to remember that it was wrapped around his left arm now. It was really different from his old look, though, and he knew it. From the black jacket settled around his shoulders, replacing his silver vest, to the Libra-marked silver shirt beneath, Baron had changed his appearance completely. It was hard, getting used to his new appearance, and while he did it out of respect for the fallen Libra, the period of adjustment was still in effect, seeing as he had just received the new look two days before.

Had it only been two days? For Baron, it felt like a lifetime. Since then, he had been spending his time at home searching for clues to the whereabouts of any more of the Zodiac. However, every lead had dead-ended with Baron further than ever from finding the remaining ten. In the end, he had resorted to browsing through the BBS, looking for anything that could point towards one of the Zodiac. There was always a chance that someone had come across a strange field, or that they had run into hacked monsters. If Baron could find one of those fields, or even just a trace to follow, it would be more than he’d been able to do so far.

As soon as he saw the message in the forum under the “Another Call” thread, Baron’s interest had been caught, and the Twin Blade wondered if this group called together by this “Gyl,” the Eventide Crescendo, knew about the Zodiac as well. Perhaps they had tracked the group of AIs, and Baron was willing to take a chance on it. At worst, he’d find himself helping The World in a different way, and while it wouldn’t help him with his mission to defeat and delete the Zodiac, the Twin Blade knew that he’d at least be doing something for the good of others.

Baron shook his head, laughing mentally as he considered how he was thinking. He sounded like such a romantic, sometimes! “For the good of others” was not his usual line, but playing in The World under his Twin Blade identity had changed Baron for the better. At first, the game had been to start fresh, but Locke, in real life, had never planned on helping the general populace of the real world. However, circumstances had shuttled him to the point he was at now. The meeting of new friends, as well as the mission given to him by Libra, had turned Baron from the selfish, self-centered treasure hunter that he had been to the considerate person he currently was. It was strange, how such transformations worked- almost as if it were some clichéd fairytale’s storyline. Life didn’t usually follow such a charmed path, but it seemed to do so for the once-indifferent Twin Blade.

Anyway, in accordance to the BBS post, Baron had gone to Mac Anu on the Delta Server. He didn’t argue about the fact that the “illegal field” seemed to be on the lowest-leveled server in the game. It was very possible- indeed, Baron had encountered the first of the Zodiac there, and there was no telling where the rest of them would show up. This was the Twin Blade’s best lead on the group of AIs, and it was much better than wandering randomly from field to field. So Baron was now walking through the streets of Mac Anu, currently walking alongside the river. He had been told to wait for another player to find him. The name was… Cid… Sid…?

Baron sighed, realizing that he had completely forgotten who he was supposed to be looking for. It figured- his memory had been so cluttered, relating to the Zodiac, that he hadn’t really taken much notice of his contact’s name. But Baron could at least go back to the BBS and look the name up again. The post wasn’t going anywhere, after all, and the BBS was available for all players to see, so the Twin Blade planned on taking advantage of that fact. Pulling up a separate window for information, Baron opened up The World’s main site and went straight to the BBS, and quickly found the thread labeled “Another Call.” A new post was there too, it seemed. It was from…

Baron blinked when he saw the newest poster’s name. CyberConnect? Wasn’t that the name of the company that created The World? Why were they posting in the thread? The Twin Blade leaned against a wall as he opened the thread to read the latest post, and his jaw dropped. Cyber terrorism? Illegal posts? What was going on here? Baron quickly scrolled up through the various posts, and came upon his own, before his eyes narrowed in concern. He was seeing the same phrase as each post passed his vision:

“Post deleted by CyberConnect Administration.”

Frowning, Baron closed the thread, since his one source of information was gone. There was no way that he’d be able to find that name without the post, so he had to just wait for the person in the post to come and get him. The Twin Blade slowly strolled back to Mac Anu’s main bridge, where he had been, wondering why CC Corp related this group with cyber terrorism. There was nothing to indicate that this “Eventide Crescendo” was a terrorist group, but if CC Corp said so, was there a chance that Baron had been misled? Was he making a bad decision by joining this group? It was possible, but the Twin Blade was willing to take that chance, if it could lead to the Zodiac. If not… well, the situation would be dealt with as things progressed.

Baron arrived at the bridge, lost in thought as he walked along its length. He headed for the center of the mass, and started leaning against the handrails, looking into the river once more. He was torn by indecision- should he simply log out, and wait for the Eventide Crescendo to leave for wherever they were going, or should he stick around and look for the contact? Baron was loathe to do so, but he was leaning towards the second choice, cyber-terrorists or not. He wouldn’t do anything that could harm others, if he could avoid doing so- rather, the Twin Blade was simply going to look for information on the Zodiac. Not like there was much else he could do. Sighing, Baron closed his eyes, trying to rationalize everything. It wasn’t working, though. He was almost grateful for the voice that came from behind him, though he nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Heya, Baron!”

The voice came from Baron’s left, and the Twin Blade tried to look up calmly, as if he hadn’t been completely startled. He hated being surprised, and with the chance that the Zodiac knew that he was hunting them down, he was wary of any unexpected occurrences. At least he had controlled his reaction, before he ended up jumping again. Standing against the railing of the bridge, such a jump would likely end up with Baron swimming in the river once again. After three or such dips, the Twin Blade tried to avoid repeating the scene. Swimming in The World was overrated, for sure.

Turning, Baron caught sight of a blue-clad Wavemistress approaching him at a slight jog. Violet, a longtime companion of Baron’s, smiled and waved as she ran over. The Twin Blade wasn’t sure how that worked, especially in a dress and high heels, but she accomplished it with her usual cheer. Something was… different about her, though Baron couldn’t quite place what it was. He realized that it had been a few days since the two had seen each other, so it was likely that she had missed him or something. That would explain the slight oddity in her behavior. Violet was upbeat as ever, though, and with the constant smile on her face, she hurried over to her friend. She slowed to a stop as she drew near.

Baron greeted Violet with a smile as the Wavemistress drew near. The two were good friends, and as such, Baron didn’t mind letting his contemplative mood fade for a chance to talk. Violet came up and stopped, her brown hair in disarray, but she smoothed it out quickly. She would have been out of breath if it weren’t for the fact that it was a game, but even so, the Wavemistress still would have found a way to babble at a thousand words per second. She always did. Violet didn’t say anything at first, though, as if expecting Baron to speak first. The Twin Blade didn’t say anything, a bit confused at it all, and just waited. Finally, Violet’s impatience got the better of her.

“It’s been a while, Baron. How’s it been?”

There was an almost… subdued tone to the Wavemistress’s voice, and it instantly caught the Twin Blade’s attention. Violet’s voice was slightly tight, as if from pain or… sadness? Nervousness? Baron couldn’t tell immediately. One would think that the usually bright-hearted Wavemistress was worried, but about what? The Twin Blade suspected it related to himself, since Violet seemed to be watching him warily, as if he would break if she made a wrong move. That, and the fact that she wouldn’t make eye contact with him. Both were signs that something was wrong, but Baron didn’t want to pry if Violet didn’t want to say anything. Rather than make her more upset, he replied casually, as if they were meeting normally.

“I’m doing fine, Violet. It’s been a while, how’s it been?”

Baron wasn’t sure what he had done, or what he had said wrong, but something in his simple reply had released whatever Violet was holding back. The Wavemistress bit her lip, and bowed her head, but before she could hide her face, Baron saw tears glistening in her eyes. Curse The World’s graphics! They made emotion and such appear so real, and it really got on the Twin Blade’s nerves sometimes. Before he could say anything, though, Violet tackled him in what would have been a painful embrace if he could actually feel things. She buried her face in his chest, her shoulders shaking as she tried to stop herself from crying. Baron could only stand there awkwardly, looking around and hoping that no one paid attention to the scene. It was a minute before Violet regained herself enough to talk, but when she did, her moods shifted mercurially. What was sadness went straight to anger. She did what Baron feared the most- she started yelling, and definitely drew attention.

“Don’t you think before you act, Baron? I saw the BBS, and that post you put up! Why would you do something so stupid? Didn’t you see what they said? You could be-” She had the sense to lower her voice at that point; “-you could be hurt, you know? Why would you do that?”

Baron didn’t even hesitate, now that the matter was in the open, but he spoke quietly as well. “Look, Violet. I did think about it before I posted. This group, this Eventide Crescendo… they may have information that I need. I can’t really explain it, for good reason, but you have to trust me. I have to go.”

“But-”

“No buts, Violet. I’m leaving soon. I will do one thing for you, though, if it’ll make you feel better. I promise that I’ll come back, safe and sound, alright? I’ve never broken a promise before, and I won’t start now. Is that fine?”

At that moment, a blue-clad Long Arm shouldered his way past the two of them, bumping into Baron as he passed by. Violet’s grip was loosened, and that allowed the Twin Blade to slip free of her grip. Mentally thankful for his savior from that grip, Baron turned to talk to Violet when a voice from nearby caught his attention. It was whispered, likely so that only Baron would hear it. It was the words that caught his attention, though, and for good reason.

“My name is Sidhe. Follow me.”

Baron turned at that, watching the blue Long Arm wander away. He hesitated for a moment, and then ran after the player, leaving Violet behind, nodding knowingly. Baron was glad that she understood, and didn’t pursue- he didn’t want her to get involved in the possible ugliness that would occur. The Twin Blade quickly caught up to Sidhe, due to his class’s advantage in speed, and strode alongside the Long Arm, not sure that he wanted to ask any questions. Sidhe seemed to be in a hurry, and moved quickly, so Baron trusted that sense of urgency and continued his pace in silence. The Twin Blade followed his companion along as they went and rounded up the rest of players who responded to the post. However, he couldn’t keep his quiet up for long, and immediately tried to strike up conversation.

"So, um... Sidhe, right? Where are we going? And do you know why the BBS post has been deleted?"

Sidhe remained quiet. Baron sighed at the man's quiet nature, and followed him down a twisting path of alleyways. The Twin Blade lost his sense of direction quickly, and couldn’t quite keep track of all of the twists and turns in the back paths of Mac Anu. In the end, he stopped trying to track his position, and continued following Sidhe closely. He wasn’t sure what else he could do. Sighing once, Baron walked silently until they reached their destination, an area with a large stack of crates in the middle. A female PC stood on top of the wooden containers, a Heavy Blade from her weapon. Baron stood and watched her, about to speak, when a flashmail interrupted.

Baron read over the flashmail quickly, assuming that the Heavy Blade on the crates was Nemera, and raised an eyebrow as he read the part that said “dip you into personal madness,” but he opened both images anyway, just out of curiosity. The first one caused his eyebrows to shoot up, indicating a bit of a stunned reaction. Three dozen dead? How do you kill a person from within a game? That made almost as much sense as the risk to Baron’s personal health from joining this group, so he accepted it and moved to the second image. That one caused his heart to soar- did the Eventide Crescendo do this? Did they save all of those people? If so, then it was definitely worth joining them!

Baron closed the flashmail, staying silent as he looked around at the other players. Along with a Wavemaster whom Baron had never met, as well as another Twin Blade, Baron recognized Talal and Shenmock in the group gathered. Baron frowned as he considered the former’s presence, and started to say something, but the flashmail had indicated that he was to remain silent until Raquar got there. It never said anything about flashmail, though, and Baron quickly opened up a message to send to Talal.

The reply came instantly, and Baron scanned it through in a hurry, though he was sure as to what the answer would be.

Baron sighed once more (he was doing far too much of that, it seemed) as he read Talal’s flashmail, even with Talal’s appreciative smile, but he did nothing else. He had said his part, and if his friend was planning on going through with it, who was he to stop her? The male Twin Blade simply crossed his arms and waited for “Raquar” to come. The name sounded familiar, though he couldn’t place it… wait! That was it- Raquar was another member of the Army of Darkness, the clan that Baron was in. But what did he have to do with the Eventide Crescendo…?

Another Long Arm entered the area, and Baron guessed that it was Raquar, having never actually met the man in person. But his speculations didn’t last long, as the Long Arm delivered a quick speech that was blunt and to the point. Baron listened carefully, nodding at each point, and waited for Raquar to finish, since the Twin Blade had questions that he needed answered. The Long Arm was done as quickly as he had started, though, and asked for questions, so Baron was the first up to the plate, his own questions prepared. His first was for Sidhe, though, since Baron wanted to get all of his information from different sources, for accuracy. The question was a repeat, true, but Baron wanted his answer.

"Do you know where we are going?"

The Long Arm paused before answering the question. "We're going to one of the Highers' Prison Fields. I don't wish to bog you down with anymore crap, as it seems Raquar just laid everything out at once and I'm sure that's a lot to digest, but each of these 'Prison Fields' has something called an Incarnation held within. From what we initially understood, Incarnations appear in any mass, anomalous concentration of an element and Twilight or Dread Code. I'm beginning to doubt it's so coincidental and easy as that, though." Taking a quick look at the rest of the gathered group, Sidhe continued. "And if you ask me what Twilight is, I won't be able to answer. Some kind of virus or code or whatever. It's what allows for the comas to happen. The Dread Code you heard about? It's a cocktail of Twilight, something the Highers concocted to be able to manipulate the stuff better. Trying to screw around with Twilight is a lethal gamble, so...thus why they did that." Another pause. "I need to be keeping watch for the Knights of War, though. We can talk later, if you'd like." Sidhe didn't feel quite like his usual, quiet self. Something about losing Raven wanted him to prepare them...the best he could, anyway.

Baron nodded, content with the answer, and turned to Raquar for a few more questions now that he was satisfied. "The post on the BBS was changed recently, I noticed. CC Corp doesn't seem to be happy with your actions, and while I see that you say that you're the ‘good guys,’ how can we trust that what you're saying is true? I mean, it's your word versus the company's."

The young Twin Blade asking the question found the tip of the Archspear against his throat. "Because I was there. And I went through it all. You don't like it not my problem, you can leave if you don't have trust in us or them. The main thing that this group runs on is trust. You don't have trust or faith you can leave. Or die, your choice."

Baron considered for a moment, then nodded, pushing the spear away. "Well, sounds like you're the real deal to me. Then answer this- why does CC Corp label you as a terrorist group, then?"

The Long Arm allowed the point of the spear to touch the ground. “Because CC Corp is surprisingly moronic, and labels any activity they don't like cyber terrorism. The byproducts of our actions are not pretty. Fields melt down, in some cases, termination of the Highers and Elites result in their deaths; still human people. That doesn't make popular advertising for this game."

"I see. I have nothing else to say then, except this- where do we begin?"

He lofted a finger at the Heavy Blade on the crates behind him. "You start by listening to her."

Colin stood at the window, looking out over the street in real life. It was so surreal at the moment, something that he never thought he would appreciate. Most of his life had gone by immersed in a computer reality, with the times that he was outside hurting him more often than not. Now though, he had an urge to look out over it, possibly for the last time. Each time he went on a field, it would be another roll of the dice, and if he lost, that was it for the real world. The fresh air that wafted through the open window reminded him of why he liked being in this house. It was close to the woods, allowing that scent to sweep away the agonies of the morning. Really though, it had all been needed. Gwyneth’s message to him, as horrifying and depressing as it had been, had helped him out in ways that he had needed help. Instead of believing the lie that he had been responsible for her death directly, she had died so as to give him time. She could have lived for another day…maybe two. But in the end, both of them would have had to die. At least, that was according to what she said. He hadn’t tried out the memory recall again, he was waiting on that. He needed to have a fresh and healed mind, not one that was scarred by past events.

The other thing that had happened that morning was that he had spilled all of the things out of Gan that were troubling him to Sekai. That had been so helpful to him, as she sat there without judging him harshly. Fairly. Treating him like a human. That had possibly been the biggest help that he had received in casting off the memories of being a Dread Code Vampire. She hadn’t treated him like some crazed freak, or a monster. He had become cannibalistic for a brief moment in time, and it still haunted him; although it was dramatically weaker in power than before. Part of that was also that the memories were no longer popping up in front of him when he looked at someone. The boy wondered if that meant that he was fully cured, but put that thought to the back of his mind for a few more minutes. There would be time for that later. The picture in front of him, of the real world and of nature, could stay pristine and untouched by his problems until later. Maybe when he was sure that he was going to see it again, then he could contemplate his problems and his evils.

There was something different about the teen today. His chin was a little higher, the phantasms that flitted behind his haunted eyes seemed more distant. But, along with that, there was a hardness that lurked in his brown depths. He had seen Talal sign up for the Eventide Crescendo. Centrus couldn’t come either, so he was, most likely, the only person who wasn’t comatose that had been in Gan. Possibly the only non-leader. Although, after the last field, that could very well be debatable, considering that he had to make do with his own judgment for two floors; trying to lead six people without the benefit of Sidhe and Nemera. Sekai was coming along though, so at least a few other people who had been through the fields before would be there. Hopefully the rest, Locke, Shenmock, someone named Exangelus and Talal wouldn’t be stupid. That was, sadly, a possibility, especially with the announcement that had been set up. Then everything had gotten deleted by an administrator…which also meant that it was time to log on. Things like the natural world outside could wait.

He turned to his computer and the area around that. He had already set up things that he might need. Soda to keep him going in case he got tired and wasn’t immersed through Dread Code, a few snacks, the FMD…everything but whatever he would need if he became a coma victim. A hospital bed. Gillian was home, but was in a huff because he was on the computer again, but that was fine by him. It wasn’t as if her room was in a position to be able to hear him easily anyways. Which was good, because if he started crying, she wouldn’t get the idea that someone was fixable by her. Which it wasn’t. With any luck though, she wouldn’t find him on the ground unconscious at the end of the field, or any other sort of nasty combination. Slipping into his chair with practiced ease, he put the FMD on and returned to Mac Anu. He had left himself logged in, and put his character in one of the easiest places to find. The biggest bridge in the city.

Takua looked out over the waters of Mac Anu, contemplating the wisdom of a small swim in one of his elements before what would probably be another hell for him. Whatever happened in Juk, he would not be so impulsive. The Wavemaster had learned from his mistakes in Gan, understanding that every action the group made would have unintended consequences, often dire. Which wasn’t to say that he regretted every one of them, but there were some that he could have possibly done without. He still didn’t have a solid count on how many people died or lived, and that was driving him crazy. He needed a figure, to know just how bad it was.

This time, he was of a level where he could actually do something. He had also just gotten his hands on Rip Maen, which meant that he could resurrect party members who died. Something that would prove invaluable in any field, but several times more so in this one. Along with that spell he had rounded out his elements, gotten a third level Gan spell, and pulled enough money together for a level twenty eight staff that he couldn’t use just yet. But, since he already had it, if he leveled up to where he could use it, the field would find that he was even more willing to use Rue than Gan. Helped in part by the BL Yokohama that he had found himself bestowed with after Gan, it was also just his preferred element. He glanced into his inventory, making sure that the Ruem Wings were still there, and smiled. He had never even heard of them before, but there they were. Along with the Time Bracers.

Takua was actually confident that he could do something this field. Other than be the brains that moved them forward, or the idiot who mutated himself into a vampire. Although it had drastically increased their chances of winning, and, indeed, had caused them to destroy Sprouce, he had ended up paying the price. Now, he wouldn’t have to rely on extreme measures to do damage, although he was still cooking up a few things that might take the field by surprise. Most Wavemasters and players didn’t seem to bother with combining elements. Maybe because the monsters they faced never required one to develop that far and quickly. Now though, he could be a tactical advantage in ways that the enemy, hopefully, wouldn’t be able to predict.

His musings were put to an end when he spotted Sidhe out of the corner of his eye. At least, it sure as hell looked like Sidhe. Maybe were it not for the fact that, well, the colors were all wrong. Or that it wasn’t really his face. Maybe the observation that his name, when targeted, wasn’t his own. The doubts started to swarm for just a moment before he relaxed. With all the Knights around here, searching for what was probably the Eventides, of course they would have disguises on. Indeed, when the Long Arm passed by, he whispered his name. The Wavemaster turned to follow him, knowing that there was no turning back. Of course, the last real chance he had to turn back had been on that fateful day a week ago. As much as he hated clichés, it was true. That day had ended up changing his life drastically. Now, there wasn’t even a moment of hesitation as he went down the alley ways that made up the back streets of Mac Anu, leading him to a Heavy Blade that he knew so well. Checking over everyone there, he wasn’t surprised, but wasn’t happy, to see Talal there. Centrus was, as he had said, gone. His gaze ventured over Sekai, noticing in passing that the crystal had reacted back in the outside alleyway and he had had to suppress its reaction to Kira. A slight smile crossed his eyes, but not his mouth, as he recalled their conversation this morning. Then his sight went to the player next to her.

And everything stopped.

Takua stood, completely shocked, horrified, relieved, and plunged into memory. He was only vaguely aware that everything was out of focus, blood draining rapidly from a face that had just turned paper-white. The missing Heavy Blade. The one last link that he hadn’t seen from the vision, was right in front of him. Shaking his head clear of the confusion that he had, and of the shock, he wandered over to the man, noticing the strange and horrific scars that stood out on his face. His voice was low, enough so that nobody else in the group could hear them talking, let alone anyone attempting to listen in from outside the alley. It also carried with it the traces of shock and awe that he had felt upon seeing the obviously Juk aligned man.

”Hello. This might sound strange, but I’ve seen you before, and I’ll explain momentarily, although you might not believe me. First though, what is your name? Mine is Takua.”

Zan, momentarily turning to offer Sekai a 'who and that the hell?' stare, did his best not to accuse Takua of being batshit insane with his glacial blue eyes. "Er, I'm Zan. Did we...pass eachother in Mac Anu or something? Carmina Gadelica perhaps? 'Cuzz, I have to say, I'm drawing a blank."

Takua shook his head, putting the answer away into his mind. That name he was going to remember for a long time. He smiled wistfully, as if he wished they had seen each other in a root town. He had a few answers to that question, but the man wasn’t going to like any of them. Especially when he explained exactly what the vision, or Code’s Sight, had contained.

”I only wish. Sekai, you were wondering who all was in the vision. Well, Zan, you’re the last person in a vision that I was gifted while a…Dread Code Vampire. Xander, the boy who gave it to me, said that it was Code’s Sight. I got it while in the last field that the Eventides went on, and you were in it along with Sekai over there, Nemera and Sidhe. In short, it was about the last confrontation with the Highers, the people that we’re fighting, and it wasn’t exactly good. Do you want to hear the rest of it or not?”

The lycanthrope's casual confusion sobered up at the mention of Code Sight, memories flashing back to Elaina and her linked death when Lowen's life had been snuffed out the first time. "Code Sight, yeah. I'm familiar. I killed someone a while back who possessed it on touch." The sentence was spoken with a bitter bite, but Zan composed himself a second afterward. He already knew he had things to make up for. As much as he wanted it to, he knew the guilt would never go away. It shouldn't ever go away. So...he pressed on. "So I'm supposed to be in some ends-all battle with this Higher douches, huh? Sounds right. Sounds about square." The Heavy Blade stopped, a single hand coming to rub the full moon of his necklace between his thumb and forefinger. It was relaxing. "What else is there?"

The Wavemaster wanted to blink at his reaction to Code’s Sight. There was someone else who had it? Then he didn’t have to explain that part of it…and the part that the had killed someone else who had that ability. Even worse, Zan felt horrible about it obviously. Guilt of some kind? That, technically made two of them, because Takua had been unable to keep Xander from sliding into the Dread Code deletion cracks that had opened up thanks to his trigger-happy finger. His mood went down a bit farther though, as he recalled the rest of the vision.

”It isn’t good. It was right after a massive battle, one that I think had gone on for a few hours. Sekai was next to the leader of the Yavan, who are a race of creatures that lived in the Vak field and are our allies, who had just died. You could have been right next to her, or you could have been elsewhere. Sidhe, the Long Arm over there, was dead, and deleted. Nemera was next to him, crying, and we had all of the Incarnations back. The Incarnations are what we’re after, because the Highers are trying to use them to comatose several thousand people and march them as slaves to the Elites in Yamiyo; if you know what that is. There was an Atesh, a bunch of players who got trapped by the Highers and made into gladiatorial fodder, who had died. Then, at the very end of the vision, the leader of the Highers came and blew me to pieces, and I couldn’t see if it hit everyone or not.”

He lowered his eyes and looked away for a moment. He didn’t really like the vision, because it was so much like stealing the future away…even if he had proven that one of them was wrong. The first few sentences were spoken with sorrow, the last two had relief written all over them. He didn’t have to deal with the damn disease anymore.

”I know it’s not a good vision, but it might be wrong. Certainly, the other one that I got, about a player who went comatose, was wrong. Or, rather, Raven got hit instead. That’s all I know, and I don’t have that ability anymore. Thank God.”

Zan couldn't help it, at the comment of knowing the Elites, he laughed. "Do I know them? Kiddo...do you remeber that 'Rebuild the City!' event a while back? That was C.C. Administration making an excuse for why the server had been down so long. The Freedom Fighters, the cornily-named group I've come from, fought every single Elite in a mini-War in the Root Town. We all barely escaped, but we got to go toe-to-toe with a few of them. So, yes, we've been introduced." It wasn't intended to sound condescending, but he was sure it did. Hopefully the Wavemaster didn't get the wrong idea. "As for the vision itself...I try not to put too much stock into those things. The prediction I was given came true, but it's good that this Raven kid showed that the CS isn't something written in stone. All in all, it looks like we have a disaster to prevent. If you try and think too much beyond that point, you'll drive yourself up a wall."

Takua’s eyes bulged out at that one. They fought the people that the Highers were trying to impress? He, vaguely, remembered that event, although he hadn’t participated in it himself. That was because they went off and destroyed all of Mac Anu? There was no doubt in his mind, because it sounded like what he was telling the truth entirely. That and he was right about driving yourself up a wall because of a vision.

”That is…seriously impressive that you do that. And, yes, we do have something to prevent. Well, it’s been fun meeting you Zan.”

The Wavemaster eyed him slowly before nodding slightly to himself. The guy was comatose, or else he was seriously off. Either way, things were going to be interesting in Juk if he was around. Equally obvious was that he knew Sekai better than she knew Takua. He smiled at the Heavy Blade for a moment before speaking again.

”Should be interesting having you with us for Juk as well. We needed a few powerful people like you for Gan, although,”

The smiled died instantly. Gan was something that I didn’t like because of how many people he had probably killed, and of everything that had gone on. If he was fighting the elites, it was possible that he didn’t have to deal with their brand of cruelty and evil.

”You wouldn’t have liked it I don’t think. Something about using children as research subjects for years. I’m sure you already know to be cautious, but it pays in there. Last field, I ended up deleting the entire field on accident, and people either died, woke up from their comas, or found themselves respawned somewhere. And yes, believe me, I know it was a dumb move.”

The werewolf didn't let any of it go to his head, any of the compliments, but he nodded along in appreciation just the same. "Good to meet you as well, Takua. If you're a Wavemaster, I'm sure I'll be looking to you to have my back a good portion of the field, mm?" Zan's eyes drifted to Raquar's as the Flashmail was received.

"I'm sure you did what you had to. As long as the casualities weren't on purpose, it was out of your hands, kid. What was done was done because you were trying to help. Still, if it bothers you that much, try to avoid making the same mistakes twice." He lifted himself away from the wall. "I have someone I need to talk with. You understand."

Takua nodded and let him pass by, finally looking at the Flashmail that he had gotten, and one that had provoked quite a reaction from everyone around him who had gotten it. Which, strangely enough, seemed to only be those who weren’t comatose. The reason for that quickly became apparent as he opened the first link, and as he read through it, his heart dropped lower and lower, but flared in anger. It was their fault? Bullshit! He might have killed all of those people, almost three dozen, but they saved how many people? Flicking to the next one…his mouth dropped open. Tears went to the corners of his eyes as he looked at the numbers, and at the name.

Vindication and relief coursed through him, hot and sweet at the same time. Only around thirty four people died from his accident. And over one hundred people woke up from comas, far too many of the children who had been through hell. That was how it should be, how it needed to be, and it had happened. The doctors were sobbing and begging for forgiveness, and this was good. Now he could feel glad that he had done that, albeit accidentally. He wouldn’t do it again…but he didn’t miss one thing. There was only one person that he knew who could have talked like the kid, or would have talked freely. Xander. The Dread Code Vampire made it out alive from him coma! He shuddered and dropped to the ground in gratitude that, somehow, the universe had some sort of sense of karma.

He needed to let Sekai know that things had turned out okay. Far more people had benefited than had died when he did that. Sidhe and Nemera needed to know that Zan was the last link from the vision. And he needed to speak up in the conversation. In case anyone had any thoughts that what they had been shown was fake.

Looking over at all the new people, he cleared this throat and began to speak.

”If you’re wondering about those news articles, and if they’re true; then you would be right in assuming that they are. Yes, we did cause those deaths, but we also got all of those people out of comas. The people we’re fighting, the Highers, put them into that state in the first place.

If Sidhe, Sekai or Nemera wanted to say that he was the one who deleted the entire field, so be it. However, his mind had already moved on to other things. Like the Knights that were wandering around Mac Anu looking for them. There was a distinct possibility that they would be found, and, in that case, it might be to some advantage to have someone who could fly. The Ruem Wings appeared on his back with a slight wave of cold air that could only be felt by those few comatose victims. From what he had read, it was all cosmetic, so he couldn’t hurt anyone with them. Granted, they were wings made out of ice and water, so they would be chillier than the air around them, but it wouldn’t be that bad. The flight-granting item settled down on his back, hiding itself from all but the most astute of viewers as their literally sea-blue tops peaked above his already azure robes.

It was time.

Kali sat in her studio apartment, peering out the window from the small padded bench seat located underneath. She had just logged out of The World only a couple of hours before and now had much to think about. Decisions needed to be made on her part pertaining to her next course of action. Would she ever log back in? Should she log in and help those who needed it? Did they even need more help, or want it for that matter? Who in the Hell were they? So many questions to be answered yet, she was asked or more or less actually told to stay away. Her ponderings had brought her to the conclusion finally that the warnings, the information, the concern that seeped through his voice, it was all there and offered to try and keep her safe. That really was the only logical reason she could come up with. Originally she had blown everything way out of proportion, asking questions of him that didn’t really need to be asked. They were only voiced from her sheer and utter lack of being able to put the pieces together in her mind. What an idiot she had been. All this time she thought she understood what he was saying, when in fact she didn’t have the slightest, until now.

The biggest question facing her now was what she was going to do. It was just about daybreak and there was no going back to sleep for her now. Getting up from the window, she paced back and forth for a bit, her anxiety getting the best of her. Thankfully, the floor was carpeted and typically when home she walked around in her bare feet or in her socks during the colder months. An idea had finally struck and she decided to see if she could find anything out online about the game, the company that made it, or perhaps maybe she would search some of the message boards to see if by any stretch, Takua’s name would pop up in one. Grabbing a pen and a large notepad, she resolved that she was not going to get accused of not doing her research ever again. Getting comfortable, the laptop’s operating system came to life with the push of a button.

Her search began by looking into anything she could find on CC Corp., the company that had created the game. Mostly all that came up were stock reports and other corporate documents and transactions typically associated with large corporations. A few news articles announcing the games release way back when, but nothing really substantial that would help her understand. She was really never all that great to begin with when using the internet to search for stuff, no matter how easy everyone said it was. Whether she just didn’t use the right keywords to search with or was using the wrong search engine to really get the proper results, the teenage girl just never had much luck finding what she needed.

Several hours of endless searching through the internet provided absolutely nothing in connection with coma victims except for the few newspaper articles that stated a few had been found slumped over their computer when it had happened. Further investigation into a few of those cases had confirmed that the coma patients had been playing The World at the time of their unfortunate mishap. It was a popular game, so few if any attempts to dig deeper into the mysterious coincidences, apparently never panned out to anything because she found no further articles on the matter.

Her irritation at all of the dead ends she was finding was getting the best of her. Slamming the notepad down next to her, she threw herself backwards against the futon she was sitting on. Her head barely missing knocking itself into the wall behind, she took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling. Her quick actions had almost made the laptop fall out of her lap, a hand quickly snapped down to grab it before it dropped. The young girl sat there for a long while, staring up at the blank off white colored ceiling wondering where else she could look for answers. I can surf the BBS on the game without having to log in. I could stay anonymous. No one would know who’s looking around. Proceeding to click on to the game icon on her desktop, rather than logging in she simply clicked onto the BBS, in essence the game’s message boards where player’s could post a message when they are looking for questing partners. It was where she had posted her message when she first started playing, the one that Takua had answered so she knew he at least scanned them. The question was, could she find any other threads that he had responded to recently that might lead her to the name of this group of his?

Her search of all of the threads going back over the last month took her a couple of hours. She chose to start from the oldest one and work forward, but feeling that for now a month old was plenty of threads to go through. The young girl sat there reading endless requests from new players looking for someone to show them around, veteran players setting up when and where to meet for there next quest and a few unusual threads from people trying to find a player that used to play but hadn’t been on in awhile. Some of those would make her eyebrow rise as they sounded almost like the police when they would issue an APB on a criminal.

The next thread she had to open was titled “Assistance”. Clicking on the link thinking it was just another newbie looking for help, she let out a loud gasp at what she saw. The posts were still there as far as showing her who started the thread and who responded, but all the content had been deleted by CC Corp Administration. It was fairly obvious, whatever the content was, the creators didn’t like it and felt it needed to be censored out but for some reason they apparently couldn’t just delete the thread entirely, so that it could no longer be found or viewed. She ran her cursor down to see who was all part of the thread and her eyes bulged at the sight of Takua’s name. There were two others that had responded to the message as well, someone that went by the name of Centrus and another named Raven. But how could she contact them, not to mention if they would even talk to her? She noted their names on her notepad and finished up her search, just in case there was another thread that hadn’t been deleted.

Finding nothing more of interest, she would have to settle with investigating what she found, namely the two players from the one thread. The only way she knew to find them since she didn’t have their member addresses, was to simply go hang out around the Chaos Gate in Mac Anu and hope they logged in while she was there. Not knowing how often they might play, that could take a very long time, but it was the best she had without sending Takua a flashmail and hoping he would answer it. As quickly as he exited the last field, she would not be hearing from him anytime soon regardless of whether she tried to initiate the contact. Back to finding Centrus and Raven however, she would have to log in to carry out her search for them. Did a player have to be in a quest to be in danger? Was she willing to take a chance after what she had been told? Placing her laptop on the table next to her, Kali moved from the futon and began pacing the room again. If he was trying to freak her out into never coming back into the game, it was working. More so though, could she live with herself if she didn’t try to find out what was really going on and help if she could? Worse yet, how would she feel if he became one of those coma victims and she had done nothing to prevent it? The young girl closed her eyes at the thoughts going through her mind. She considered him a friend. He had helped her learn about the game and in doing so, opened her eyes to the real dangers of it as well. She was torn between two evils as the saying would go. Clenching her fists at her utter lack of making a decision, she stormed back over to her laptop and sat down. I’ve got to at least try. If I can’t find them or if I do and they won’t talk to me, then at least I will know I tried. With that, she logged in and put on the headset.

She had spent the rest of that day wandering aimlessly through the crowds, targeting as many players as she could, hoping to run across either of her two mystery players. Not knowing what class a player they were, she couldn’t just target certain ones. It was a tedious task to say the least, and there was no way she could click fast enough to catch them all or click on someone twice not remembering if she had already seen them or not. Well this is getting me absolutely no where. There has to be a better way. Finding herself short on time, she logged out and got ready for her night shift at work. Maybe tomorrow would bring better luck.

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

Talal had been hanging casually around the Chaos Gate in Man Anu for several hours. The previous day’s venture of the same not producing either Centrus or Raven, or at least not that she could catch with her tags of all the activity going to and from. As she considered packing it in again, a player appeared at the gate. Since she was still there, she moved the cursor on her screen to check his tag and almost gasped so loudly it would have scared the birds away. Instead, players around her looked sharply over, making her feel awkward, hastily turning herself in a different direction. The young female had only turned enough though where she could still keep an eye on her mark. Centrus had won the luck of the draw and logged in first.

She watched as the silver haired player walked casually through the crowds of players towards the main bridge; a common meeting area for many. He didn’t appear to be headed anywhere specific; her feeling confirmed when he stopped along the rail to take in the view. She was nervous to approach him, even if that was exactly what she was here to do; to find him and see if she could get any information from him. The girl timidly approached, choosing a spot on the rail not even a foot away from him. Far enough to hopefully not be too obvious, but close enough to speak softly; not wanting to attract any unnecessary attention from other players if they heard the content of her questioning. She spoke at first in a soft and friendly tone to break the ice.

”Beautiful day, isn’t it? For a game that is.”

”Look,” he said with his voice sounding heavy. His eyes made it clear that something was weighing on him, but his words would be what revealed it. ”If this is about my behavior in the Pawn Shop, I’m flattered, really, but I was just trying to get a deal on a sword. I’m not even that class anymore, which would be the most interesting part of that whole exchange.” He sighed. ”I’m sorry to disappoint madam, but I’m in a rather complicated relationship with a ferocious little Heavy Blade. You’re more than welcome to try to fight her though.”

He chuckled slightly at that last part which made her laugh.

”Oh my! Actually no, I didn’t follow you from the Pawn Shop and I have no particular interest in fighting your girlfriend.” He could hear hesitation in her voice. ”But…I did follow you to ask you a different sort of a question.”

A silver eyebrow raised in anticipation of the question. His voice changed becoming softer. ”Well then, fire away, wee one.”

Talal shuffled her feet and her stance; her hands were restless along the rail. ”I’m hoping you can fill in a few details regarding a quest you may have had with Raven and Takua recently.”

The small grin that had previously rested on his face vanished, his eyes returned to their state of heaviness, and he turned his head away from the girl. Then, his head dropped, as if it had become heavier from the sheer weight of the question. ”I’m afraid I don’t recognize the names. Perhaps someone else would know?”

She could see he obviously was hiding something from her purely based on his reaction. Not wanting to blow her chance completely on the first try, she remained as polite as possible considering her level of nervousness and anxiety at the same time.

”I don’t mean to be rude but, your whole demeanor just changed and literally took a one eighty. I can only assume you do know them and are just not willing to tell me anything. Believe me, I mean no harm. I’ve quested with Takua twice now and well…I’m concerned for him.”

”That statement alone proved that you have quested with him, but I hardly feel it signs a death contract. I can’t tell you what you want to know, however observant you might be.”

The girl eyed him with a heavily questionable look. If he caught any of it at all, he would also be able to see the irritation building inside of her. ”I know you went on a quest, or at least signed up for one that was of an unknown nature to me seeing as how the content of the thread and its responses got censored out by CC Corp Administration. I want to help. Takua has told me some of what really goes on in The World. I just don’t know who to go to or the name of the group you are helping. Throw me a bone here. I beg you.”

”Look, you seem to be a sweet girl. If Tak told you some of what was going on and you still want to help, then I would call you crazy. I don’t want the death of a crazy girl on my conscience. Sorry, look them up elsewhere. This Cyber-Terrorist has other people to apparently doom.”

Her eyebrows rose at the words ‘Cyber-Terrorist’ and her anger grew at his unwillingness to let go of the information he obviously held. She was loosing her temper and it showed. Her voice raised enough that anyone within several feet would have heard her. Thankfully though, the words she spoke could have pertained to anything and looked much like a lover’s spat to the casual onlooker or eavesdropper.

”Call me whatever you like, I will find them with or without your help. From the sound of it, you guys can use all the help you can get, regardless of what your conscience can endure. Who says I’m going to die anyways, you’ve never seen me in battle, you don’t know a thing about me and as much as I appreciate your concern, you can keep it! Far be it from me to weigh down your conscience. Obviously you don’t give a rat’s ass about what they are trying to accomplish or you would help me find them.”

Talal turned sharply to look at the river. Her voice had risen badly and people were starting to stare. She needed to calm down and now!

”A few days ago, words like that would have hurt me, girlie. Saying I don’t care is a nice tactic, and they would have scarred my heart, but I don’t hold mine anymore. I carry the heart of another, and that heart has done too much for them to be hurt by such trivial things. You’re right though, I don’t know for certain that you will die. Do you know for certain that you will live? I have watched friends die before my very eyes, for my own sake. Could you live with yourself if someone died saving you?”

She turned to look at him as he spoke. His words were very similar to those of the Wavemaster’s, but with even more depth to them. He took a deep breath, lifting his head to make eye contact with the girl. ”I don’t want you getting mixed up like I did, but I know there is nothing I can do to stop you, is there?”

The young Twin Blade held his eye contact and spoke softly, having calmed herself and from the deep emotion she could hear in his words. ”No, you can’t stop me and no, I’m not certain of anything really. All I know is I have a friend that needs someone to be there for him, regardless of whether I can be of any assistance or not, I’m going to be there. Mind you I haven’t had anyone I would consider using that term with in several years so forgive me if I seem to be overreacting. I don’t take friendship lightly. Will you please point me in the right direction?”

”Damnit, girl. You are infuriatingly determined, you know that?” Despite his harsh words, his voice was soft. ”If you want to watch over him, fine, but know what you are getting into. You could die. Easily. Without so much as a second thought as to your assailant. I’m not talking character dead. I’m talking you, behind the FMD, keeled over, lights out, never turning back on, dead. You still want to go?”

Talal looked down for a moment in thought. She had already heard some of the consequences, but especially now for some reason, they were really starting to hit home. No, being dead was not something she was running towards becoming without a fight, but she couldn’t help remember what she had told Takua trying to make him realize what she considered friendship to be. Looking back up and regaining the eye contact with the Heavy Blade, her eyes were filled with nothing but resolve in her belief.

”I told him once that friends are there for one another, without question, regardless of reason, and regardless of consequence. What kind of a friend would I be, if the answer to your question was anything but yes?”

He sighed. ”You’re just like him, you know that. Check the BBS. If my guess is right, Gyl will be posting something up in about an hour. Tak’ll beat all of us to responding, he always has. I comb the boards about every two minutes to make sure I don’t miss it; I’ll likely beat you to it. I’ll let him know you are coming, little one. I tell you this all under two conditions.”

”Name them.”

”The first is that you don’t die.”

”And the second?”

”When you see her, you give her these.” He handed her the following hand scripted note written in binary code and added a Pain Giver Heavy Blade sword to her inventory.

”Does this ‘her’ have a name? How will I recognize her?”

”She’ll be the beautiful Heavy Blade that makes you want to pee your pants in fear.” He smirked. ”Tell her she is always in our hearts. She’ll know what I mean.”

A polite but gracious smile appeared on her face. ”I will and thank you. Here, in case you should feel the need to make sure I’m meeting your conditions.” She handed him a note with her member address written on it, smiled one more time and walked away leaving him standing alone at the railing. All Talal could do now was wait and keep an eye on the BBS thread and hope Centrus was right.

Sure enough, the thread appeared and Takua had been the first to respond followed by Centrus. The fact that it mentioned ‘illegal fields, the thread most likely getting deleted by the Administration again and the FBI all in one message, did not exactly give Talal the warm and fuzzies. However, she had made up her mind and after all, it sounded quite possibly as if it was only an information meeting which meant she may still be given the option to not go. Only hesitating for a moment, she posted a brief response and waited to be contacted. The one other piece of information that she now had in her possession, was the one piece that Takua had refused to give her. She now knew the name of the group, the Eventide Crescendo. As she walked over near the shops, she started looking at things differently in a way. What if she did go with this group on their next quest and not return? There would be no more sitting in her window at home, no more walks on the beach, no more nothing. She wasn’t sure how long she had been blankly starring out at the people walking by lost in thought, when the Long Arm walked by her, spoke his name to her and kept walking. Snapping back into focus, she did as instructed and followed although keeping her distance.

As she followed she pulled up the BBS thread again in another window to take another look at the name of the Long Arm that would take her to the meeting place. What she found was that the post had already been censored and deleted out by CC Corp. What she also discovered what that she was going to see a couple other familiar faces at this meeting as both Baron and Shenmock had also apparently responded. That made her feel a little less anxious to know she wouldn’t be completely alone, well besides Takua that is. But at the moment the young girl knew that he was not going to be pleased with her arrival. He had already warned her that he was going to yell, beg and plead with her should she show up. Hopefully, he was just kidding. That final thing on the thread was a posting by none other than the CC Corp. Administration themselves. Her eyes bulged as she found out that just for responding to the thread, she had now been labeled a Cyber-Terrorist and would be apprehended. She quickened her pace, so as not to be so far behind the Long Arm in front of her, but not so close as to be on his heels. She followed him for what seemed an eternity through the back alleyways of the city; the likes of which she had never entered previously. Finally they came upon the meeting place and she was not the first to arrive, and didn’t know if she was to be the last. She settled in, leaning against the building to hear what they had to say.

Looking around her she noted that Baron and Shenmock were already present, Takua had arrived just shortly after she did, along with several other players that she did not know at all. The prominent figure of the group was the female Heavy Blade standing atop the crates. Seeing her in her bold stance with the piss me off and die look she had to her, Talal quickly put two and two together that that was the ‘her’ she was to give the items to. Somehow, sometime before it was all over, she would have to approach this woman in somewhat privacy to exchange the items. Not knowing what the note said or what Centrus’s connection with her or this group was in full, she didn’t want to just hand them over for everyone to see. This was a private request and she was going to treat it with respect.

Not soon after arriving, she heard a sound noting a flashmail had been received. It was from someone named Nemera. Talal’s best guess was she now had the name to address the ‘her’ by, which was good. She wasn’t exactly looking forward to approaching her with the line of ‘You must be the ‘her’ this is entitled for’. She pulled up the two links and read them over quickly. With all of the dropped hints and information she felt she had, part of her was not to horribly surprised by what the articles contained in regards to the victims. If this group was truly responsible for freeing those people then she would know to take the terrorist label they were being given with a grain of salt. It sounded like CC Corp was trying to cover their ass and blame it on the Eventide Crescendo. With any luck, this speaker…Raquar, would clear the air and lessen the confusion of it all.

She had barely finished reading the two articles when she received yet a second flashmail. Baron was concerned for her safety and was surprised to see her at the meeting. She instantly responded, noting her appreciation for the concern; letting him know that she had already given it plenty of thought. When she hit the send button she looked over his direction and gave him a quick thankful smile. At the same time out of habit from the last two days of targeting people, she ran her cursor over him for his tag. Surprised, she clicked again, thinking there was a glitch in the program as his tag did not come up as Baron but of a name she had never even heard of. In that moment, one of her questions she was considering asking Raquar had been answered. To test her theory, she quickly tried to tag Shenmock and Takua as well, since she knew for sure who they were. Her theory was confirmed. Somehow they have changed our character data. That must be how they intend on getting us all to the gate without getting apprehended in the process. For now, she would keep her thoughts about that to herself.

Not soon after, the Long Arm named Raquar had arrived and wasted no time giving a gigantic bear hug to Nemera before going straight into his presentational speech. Talal found the hug a bit strange considering the apparent seriousness of the meeting, but who was she to judge. Settling in and listening to the short, sweet and to the point speech, she caught onto a couple of things. Only one she felt really needed to be addressed possibly but she would wait and see if anyone else brought it up first. If not, she would ask for clarification. Baron was first up which didn’t surprise her at bit seeing as how he loved to gather information and little tidbits on places. His first went to Sidhe, but the rest were directed at Raquar. While Baron was busy with his questions, she took a quick glance around. Shenmock seemed a bit nervous and was keeping to himself and Takua was off talking to one of the members of the small group of people she didn’t know that had gathered.

Her attention was now back on Baron so that she could hear his questions. The young girl not wanting to repeat any that had already been asked, which would make her look stupid in front of an alley way full of strangers. She watched on as Baron continued his questions, and watched as the Long Arm’s answer started with his spear at Baron’s throat. Once Baron finished and her question had not been answered, it was apparently her turn to speak up. She chose to keep her distance but wanted him to clarify one simple question for those in this meeting that may not fully understand what he meant.

”You said earlier that this Dread Code dumps us in the field. Am I correct in assuming that what you really mean by that is contact with it could not only end everything for us, but will also make us literally feel everything in the interim as well?” Her memories of what she had been told about feeling the sword going through your gut and other very non-pleasant things, was taking front row in her mind at the moment.

He nodded. Bright kid. ”That’s exactly what it means.”

She nodded in respect for his answer, noting he looked rather worn out. She went silent, waiting to see if anyone else had something to ask or add to the impromptu Q & A session. That was when Takua spoke up and added his thoughts of what the group needed to know about the two articles they were given the links to. He confirmed that the Eventide Crescendo was basically responsible for both the deaths and the awakenings. All Talal could do was stare at him. She couldn’t imagine what he must be going through mentally having done whatever it was they did to cause people to die. Sure he most likely felt relief for the ones that woke up, but knowing you are responsible for killing someone was something completely in and of itself. She forced herself to break her stare of him. If he felt the need to approach her to try and convince her not to go as he said he would, then she was certain he would do just that. She however, would not be the one to initiate that particular conversation.

It was time.

Silently, and for a little while, the four of them walked as if sheathed completely in shadows, as if their own thoughts muffled the sounds of their footsteps. Like they were ghosts, slipping in and walking amongst those who wouldn't see them, refused to acknowledge their existence in fear for what questions it would bring about their own. For a little while, she had the hand of someone who had suffered so much, who's burden she now shared... and who shared a little of her burden as well. Something was preoccupying Kira's mind, though when an inquiry was silently sent, a subtle shake of her head was the only response... hopefully meaning that Kira would tell her later.

She was small; barely five feet tall and weighed in at maybe one hundred pounds soaking wet. A pair of forest green hakama covered her lower body, barely uncovering the tips of black hiking boots beneath the loose, but sturdy fabric. Dark emerald stone-like armor laced with golden designs rested against her hips, protecting her from assaults, as much as they could, that would remove her limbs or strike at an artery in the thigh. Wrapped around her torso and dipping slightly above one breast was thickened, tough leather armor in a healthy, darker brown color and curved over one shoulder protectively. The other shoulder was covered by a tank top like strap that covered and disappeared into the rest of her armor, lined in gold and the same color green as her hakama. Her gloves were of different lengths, one coming up over her elbow and protecting the inside of her biceps from being snapped by the bowstring while the other rested just above her wrist; a good sized dome-like gem, white in hue, rested on the back of the longest glove.

Physically speaking facial feature wise, she appeared anywhere in the range of fourteen to seventeen at best, at worst, she looked about thirteen. Large brown-gold eyes were gentle and patient, though there was a wisdom... a certain sense of unspoken understanding of the grave situation around them despite the way they made her look equally innocent, more vulnerable and open for attack. In an endearing but flattering style, her white hair was cut short, longer in the front than in the back and was slightly fluffed by the way she'd unconsciously move a hand through it, as if she were used to it being much longer than it really was. A fang shaped tattoo in green lazily arched toward her cheekbone from her jaw and rested right below it. Adorning her throat was an odd gold necklace with two small ruby like gemstones flanking a... rather interesting looking fang shaped charm in the center. Two more interesting fang shaped charms hung delicately from her ears.

If it wasn't obvious what element she preferred, someone needed their eyes checked. Badly.

She looked up and swallowed hard at the sight in front of her, of the people gathered and the one familiar face she could pick out from that distance, hard to miss due to her hair, armor and class. And by the way her very presence screamed of authority.

The Eventide Crescendo; where it had all began... and where it had ended as well.

There was Nemera-san... looking so very... lonely without Raven-san along and waiting patiently... even more so without Tiral-san's quiet presence nearby. How long had that loneliness been there... that she'd been struggling with for so long? A trail of people followed a Long Arm dressed entirely in blue... by guess alone that must have been Sidhe. Kira's interest was piqued, the sight of another Rue based Long Arm like herself was of some comfort and apparently something the usually suspicious and cautious AI approved of.

Not all of the element can be trusted, we have our traitors and darker ones too but, hell. In my experiences, I've yet to meet a male Long Arm of the Rue element that's proved me wrong about their trustworthiness.

Now that was an interesting tidbit out of her, Sekai thought to herself and let herself communicate back since... it was preferable to thinking about who all was, well, there right then.

And just how many she was responsible for by direct association with alone.

'Really?'

Why do you think I distrust spellcasters above all other classes? Not just because they can wipe you out in a heartbeat if they get a bead on you. Who knows, maybe a spear in hand is some sort of symbol that can't be explained. All I know is, I chose my route when I got to talk with one of ours back in Merrows' dungeon palace. Told me a spear was a responsibility that wasn't to be taken lightly.

'How come?'

Because if you think about it; a spear is both the easiest way to attack and defend; you're damn near balanced on both. All you have to do is choose.

That was some fun food for thought, though not as fun as the two flashmails that simultaneously popped up in front of her eyes. One from Takua-san about the results... she would speak to him later of that and one from... Raquar. It puzzled her long enough to stay in place while the others moved towards each other and conversed. There'd be plenty of time for introductions and the like later, she didn't have any questions that Raquar would be able to answer, not concerning the Eventides anyways. She made a face, stomped her foot and snapped her fingers with a muttered 'drat' internally, not outwardly displaying anything other than a furrowing of her eyebrows and a slight frown. By the time she shook herself out of her thoughts, people had come and gone, questions answered and Zan apparently spoken to by the expression on his face. Swallowing hard but, with the subtle encouragement from Kira, the AI lingering in the shadows where it was harder to see her outline, Sekai slowly made her way over to where Raquar was sitting on some of the crates and gingerly took a seat next to him.

Unable to really form a given question that wouldn't sound completely rude or challenging, the young woman shifted a little in place and spoke quietly enough for him to hear without drawing attention from any of the others.

“You... wished to speak with me?”

He had caught on to her approach, but hadn't really made eye contact. His hands roamed through his head again and his voice sounded strained. “Why... Why are you here? What are you doing?”

She bit her lip to hold back the first response that came to mind, golden eyes searching around those who'd gathered, lingering on some while quickly passing over others before she managed to respond.

“I'm needed here, where what little skill I do have, what little I can offer those around me will actually do some good in the long run.”

He wasn't exactly sure what to say. There might've been time when he felt the same, but... somehow it seemed different with her. “I know... And I know my saying anything will change nothing... Just. Take care of yourself. In your current state. Just be careful, don't do anything... come back?” The last was said with an almost pleading air. And still without eye contact.

A ghost of a smile formed on her lips as his plea for her return sent her back to the choice she'd been forced to make within her own heart... and how the results of that had already shown themselves little by little. She was a part of them, those who shouldered much and faced an endless, constant struggle for survival... and she was going to do her best to bring what she could to help in that battle.

“I will return,”

She replied, the odd little smile still playing about on her mouth.

“I have a place now, I chose which path I needed to be on and there is no turning back from that choice.”

His eyes rose up to meet hers for the first time. He saw the hope there, and the brightness, and for the first real time, self-confidence. He wondered idly how much they must've been contrasted to his haggard and weary ones. And for the moment that his eyes met hers, all else ceased to exist with her promise.

Sekai looked back, searching his expression with concern in her own. It was still there, she decided, it was still there even despite how exhausted he seemed and how... burdened he was. His heart was still strong and everything... because it was still strong, would be okay in time. After a long moment of scrutiny, her cheeks flushed with color and her gaze quickly dropped to something particularly interesting on the ground.

“Please take care of yourself too, I don't want to return only to find... that you aren't there. You... have to promise me that you will return as well, it... it won't be fair if only I have to make that kind of a promise.”

His head also dropped toward the ground before he spoke quietly. "I got you into this mess, I promised I would get you out. Don't plan on going back on that."

His fingers slid under her chin and tilted her head up towards him gently. "I promise." And with that, he sealed it. There was no misconception about this, no surprises, it was plain, his soul bared. He didn't have the energy to do otherwise. If nothing else, maybe he could lose himself in the moment.

Part of her still wanted to shy away from the contact, though the newfound inner strength, as small as it was, put a quiet stop to the struggle within as she felt her face heat up. It was all too sudden, his fingers against her skin too... something, she didn't know what to call the feeling . The words just started to register when he kissed her.

Her eyes widened, surprise warring with several other things in both mind and heart as she felt her eyes close and, just for a moment, felt herself kiss him back before she gently pulled away, cheeks aflame and heart racing as her gaze dropped quickly to her lap.

“P-Promise me you'll be careful and stay safe too. It- It's not fair if only I have to.”

He had needed that, it made him feel more human, and gave him another thing to come back to. He nodded, eyes regaining some of their ancient light and fire. "I promise."

“Thank you,”

Something lifted from her heart, knowing that he would be careful... and to keep in mind that he had value outside of what he had in battle. Shifting a little in place on the crate, it.... felt like she needed to say it, to stress what she so firmly believed.

“Please... please use caution when it comes to encountering Marionette-san; this... this isn't something to be taken lightly.”

How could she stress the importance of not leaping right into battl- oh!

“Consider... consider it a meeting of intelligence and wit rather than one of might against might.”

The boy gently tapped a finger against his head. "I plan to do as little fighting as possible, and to get back soon. There are still things to take care of. And you, these fields are dangerous. Take care . . . Of yourself. And the big oaf." He jerked a thumb at the lycan.

She smiled in response and nodded, timidly reaching over and squeezing his hand in a silent show of support, eyes wishing him good luck and safe travel as she released him and walked back over to the rest of the gathering.

Kira stood there, brooding in the shadows as she watched the encounter, wincing at the slight pain in her chest from the shared kiss between her little one and, well... someone she should be furious at, should hate with a passion and want exterminated from the very planet. But... Sana's own behavior had slapped her differently. Besides, the kid was okay, for a human male of course but, she couldn't find a reason to hate him in the least and wasn't going to be bothered trying to. It was Sekai's choice; the girl knew her feelings, it would just take time before she could decide for herself. Still... it didn't mean watching wasn't going to hurt any less, dammit all anyways, she thought to herself with a long internal groan.

When the interaction was done and over with, she too slipped quietly out of the shadows and took her place beside Sekai. Those who looked over would be slightly surprised to see, well, what they saw out in broad daylight.

A tall woman around twenty-one years old or so in appearances stood firmly beside the smaller girl, her hair more of a polished silver with a bluish tint and pulled back from her face into a bun. Dressed in a two piece outfit in navy blue lined in gold, the sharp eyed woman's most distinguishing feature, besides the... lack of pupil in her eyes, was the simple fact she was completely transparent. She shifted slightly to one side, eying the Heavyblade woman carefully and listened to Sekai's turbulent thoughts and emotions concerning the single fact that all but one person there who wasn't from her clan was someone named Exangelus-san.

The Army of Darkness was flocking to a dangerous territory; she needed to be there to defend them and protect them as best she could.

The breeze on his cheeks was cold, biting. His fingers, wrapped around the bag in his ungloved hand, were beginning to go numb, but he didn’t think to put his gloves on. The long slope up the rise to his cul-de-sac had changed from the younger asphalt of the city back to the familiar yellowing residential concrete, split near the cross-sections by barely surviving grass and age-old roots. His shoes made a dull squeak as they bent and unfolded under him, old but still comfortable and functioning, and they’d occasionally scrape lightly on the surface of the sidewalk as his mind drifted and as the level of the concrete jutted upwards.

Across the street from him, coming out of their house, were the McIntoshes, their baby, Dillon, in hand, loading up items in their mauve SUV. Their brown Labrador ran circles around them in those long, play-arcs, sprinting for no reason at all, tongue hanging happily out of his mouth. As he would run by Mr. McIntosh, he’d have to dodge quickly to either side as the man reached out and tried to slap him on the ass – Tag! – and then the game would continue. The dog stopped running for a moment and sniffed idly at the olive grass near the end of their driveway, then suddenly looked up trotted across the street towards Ian, eyes wide and expectant, smiling that goofy dog smile. He came around and rubbed against Ian’s leg, and Ian let his free gloved hand fall down and skirt once down the side of his neck and broad chest before the Lab galloped back over to his owners. They looked up, Sasha McIntosh smiling and waving, holding their other baby girl, and Brendan waved as well. Ian raised his hand and smiled to them before turning down his road, blocking them from sight.

Samantha’s car was gone from her driveway – out in Pennsylvania with family – and the only other vehicles in the neighborhood were Frank Laughlin’s and his own, which sat in his paved way untouched for nearly a week. Being within walking distance of practically every amenity made his gas and maintenance bill near-nonexistent, limiting his funds mainly to insurance and his cell phone, which together left him more money than he knew what to do with. The walk up to his house from the junction in the main road was short, no more than three hundred feet, lined with middle-high level residential cluster housing and more than it’s share of resilient shrubbery, mostly pre-arranged by the construction company nine years ago when the development was erected. He turned down his short driveway and onto the stone-lined path to his front door, digging his keys out of his pocket, fumbling with them for a moment, and entering his house, leaving his front door open.

He set his bag down on the kitchen counter, just now noticing how very cold his hand was, rubbing it vigorously as he unpacked some basic foodstuffs and toiletries he needed to survive the week. Mom and Pop were again out on business, this time in Copenhagen, and would be back at any length of time between four and eighteen days. He packed them in the pantry and the fridge, withdrawing a Jones as he did. Fufu Berry. It wasn’t the manliest name in the world, but it tasted good, and more than the pink can and the dandy name, that’s what mattered. He threw off his shoes at the door and hung up his heavy coat, and trudged upstairs, where he immediately entered his room.

Gray light drifted in through the gaps in the blinds, fine particles of dust sparking as they passed, rolling gently through the warm, undisturbed air. It was passing midday, and the sun hung low to the horizon in the cold winter sky. His fan hung motionless from the crock in the center of the low ceiling, the faintest hint of gathered dust atop its wooden blades beginning to gravel into a scaly pattern of light and shadow. Piles of clothes in the many corners throughout the room were scattered and varied in all of color, garment, and age, and were of no particular concern – no one was around who cared, and those that would be around, did not care. He, certainly, did not care. He flicked the switch on his desktop and went over to his window, spinning the curtain rod until there were no longer any gaps – the light receded from his domain and left him in a damp, comfortable illumination.

The leather chair in front of his desk sighed as he laid his weight into it, reclining slightly and sinking into the pit that had refused to sink any lower a couple of years back. Papers, homework, bills, notes, and his recently-acquired W-2, lay dashed over his keyboard and workspace, and he promptly scooped them to either side, along with a hundred other nondescript papers, keys, utensils, and paraphernalia that sat scattered like rubble after an explosion. As Altimit booted, flashing its three-dimensional cyber-logo, he opened his side applications and accessed his e-mail, of which he had zero new. He expected this, of course, since he had only last checked it no more than an hour ago, and minimized the window as the main OS booted. Leaning back into his chair, he cracked the tab on his Jones Soda and sipped the top layer from the can, idly eyeing his screen as his processes loaded. Unsure what to do to waste time, he opened up some of the forums he frequented, read and replied to a few posts, answered some personal messages. He succeeded in wasting all of six minutes in the process, which he found was entirely unsatisfying. He rose from his seat and decided to his the bathroom before he did anything else. The bottom hinge on his door creaked quietly as it always had.

As he entered the bathroom, the phone began to ring, but he did not answer it. The machine picked up, and after a few seconds of static, his mother’s familiar voice rang clear on the other end.

“Hi honey. Ross has just reserved us another three days in the hotel… we’re going to be staying longer than expected, again. Sorry! You know how to get a hold of us if you need anything. And remember, you have that physical on the nineteenth, so make sure you can get to it!” The line crackled for a minute, and Ian heard his father’s voice mumbling quietly under a muffled audiopiece. “We’ll see you soon, hon!” A muted sliding of fingers across a cramped cellular device preceded the click that rang silent in the air for a few moments afterward. The answering machine beeped, a long, harsh beep, and shut off. Ian was done in the bathroom.

He figured, this weekend, it was time for some games. He hadn’t played since that call to arms of Unity, and he was particularly willing to enter The World and take the day off. He had nothing to do, no one to see, and chances were, he wouldn’t for a while. He entered his room again and closed his door, a subconscious addend to his confinement and closure. He retrieved his VR visor and controller from behind his monitor where they lay, various cords tangled together in nature’s impossible knots, and turned them on. On his main monitor, he selected The World from his list of programs and ran it, watching as the small blue loading logo appeared in the lower-right corner of the screen. While it loaded, the BBS loaded up, and the screen was taken over by the familiar display.

Ian leaned forward and rested his chin in his upturned hand, perusing the various topics that had sprung up since he last visited, meanwhile the logo in the corner spun and spun. The clans had been very chatty, recently, and there were a lot of pre-tournament duels being waged in preparation for the Root Town Clash coming up. He noticed, also, that there were an unusual number of players in the higher-leveled servers. In fact, there seemed to be a general influx of players in all the servers. He read down the page for some more conversation topics, sipping at his Fufu Berry. The sugar was intense but not overpowering; cold and out of the bottle, it was refreshing. He noticed a lot of topics discussing a certain group of people… he had heard of them in a few circles, seen the name mentioned in posts and other miscellaneous goings-on. They were apparently called the Eventide Crescendo, and judging by the topic descriptions underneath most of the topics, they had apparently just done something very, very avant-garde. He began reading posts by members of all ranks and class, and from what he gathered, this group was viewed in a hundred different ways by a hundred different people, and each one seemed to portray them in a negative light. Each topic had some article or excerpt that related them as cyber-terrorists, punks, vandals, trouble-makers, hackers, banes to the online community and safety of children everywhere. Apparently, they were linked to coma patients, and thirty-some deaths nationwide. But, there was always one linking factor, one constant that held Ian to doubt.

Pondering it, Ian stood and walked over to his CD collection, dug out an old disk, and stuffed it into his ancient stereo, thinking. It was the one thing. There were no supporters. There was no defense. There was no retaliation, no explanation of purpose by any calling themselves a member of this organization. Surely, there must be something? Some sort of reciprocal side to the argument? The music started playing, quietly at first, through his speakers, as he at back down at his computer. It didn’t make sense.

Where’s the link?

He opened a few more topics, casually reading over them like he had the others, still secretly wondering why there was no opposition. He was falling downward in the list of most recent posts back to the posts twenty or thirty minutes old. Most of the Eventide Crescendo topics were at the top, actively discussed and laden with blame. But there was one topic, near the twenty-five minute mark, that mentioned the EC again, and surprisingly, it only had a few replies. He clicked on it, and suddenly, his screen blipped. It popped out of focus, scrambled, and reassembled in front of him. Two or three bits of data popped from the data layers, and settled to their latent state. Ian watched as this happened, confused and almost worried. But as the posts loaded, he was no longer so worried about it.

It was a post by one of the members of the Eventide Crescendo. It was the one post that he had been looking for, the black sheep. At its front, it announced that the group was not bad. It announced that they had no intent of hurting anyone, that they were there to help. It mentioned meeting somewhere in Mac Anu. There were four or five replies when Ian finally comprehended what he was reading, and all of their names and information were scrambled in such a way that it made no sense; IP addresses without enough octets, names with invalid characters, locations without direction… Halifax, California. Was there some sort of program being run in this topic that was concealing their identities? Reading the replies from the members who had already posted, in particular the first poster, Ian’s heart began to pump just a few beats faster. For some reason, he was excited. He didn’t know why. All this recent fuss about this group, and suddenly there was an opportunity to find out about and possibly even meet some of the members? The muscle above Ian’s mouse thumb twitched. He clicked the reply button, and submitted his own message.

“… I’ll be there.”

He exited the boards, the main application having loaded long ago. The logo shone bright and ready to be accessed in the bottom corner. He clicked on it, and the log-in screen appeared, as it always did, ready to thrown him head-first into his new association.

His fingers went to his keyboard, and for a moment, he hesitated. They hung there, suspended over the first four characters of his alter-name, but did not strike the keys. Staring at the letter ‘H’ between his hands, Ian stood up and paced over to his.

This could get serious. The post said so. Some authority is probably looking for these guys. His now half-empty soda was still cold in his hands, and he was reminded of his walk home before arriving home. A man in his town had just been admitted into Norris Sacred Cross hospital after he fell into a coma, and as most cases had been with such recently, it was known that he was a player of The World. If I log in now, there’s no turning back… they said that administrators would be tracking us. Was it really worth risking his account and possibly even federal punishment to try and find these people? What if they actually turn out to be terrorists? Would it be on him for following an innocent lead? He paced back and forth, listening to his music.

Stay back, it's out of our hands… /
Try too hard /
Try to understand… /
It's out of our hands, there’s nothing to hide /
We're helpless, and this world is never changing… /
We've done all we can, so cover my eyes /
We're blinded, and this world is never changing… /
And all that we have /
Is turning to grey…

The sky outside was growing darker. He sat back down at his desk, and clicked the log-on button, affixing his VR visor and activating his controller. The screen loaded on his visor like it always did, flashing line commands at him.

… what’s the harm in a quick look?

There was a faint beep; calm, soothing, and it reminded him of water.

~

Seconds of silence and blackness. His body formed in front of him, materializing in from the nothingness that consistently surrounded and embodied him. He felt his legs come beneath him; he found balance, and stability, power. His torso erupted from the base of strength, arms extending downwards in lean, muscular arcs. Hair fell lightly into existence against his cheeks and forehead, thin and black and comfortable. His clothing wrapped itself around him, forming to his body and latching his defense impenetrably to him; leather formed around his chest and arms, spinning around and securing his mind to his body. Blades appeared at his legs and secured themselves with more leather to his thighs, and every remaining piece of data latched to him like leaves to a tree. Gloves, boots, straps, chains, buttons and the rest of his cumbersome aesthetics sprouted from the virtual nothingness, and as the world came into view, he felt the searing blackness scorch the back of his neck, his eternal remnant of Omega piercing the back of his mind. With it came all that he had seen and learned, all he had gained and lost and created – Rei and Daath and Aurora, Dark and Geburah and Tiphereth, all the shadow and darkness. It pressed, burned, blistered, and subsided, sliding down beneath the cover of his leather jacket, which formed over and concealed all that he was made of. He found ground, sight, air, smell, taste, feeling, and the world around him erupted into light and sensation.

He caught the last sight of gold rings fall to the floor around him, and he stepped forward. Everyone and their mother was playing today, running around and in between one another, grouping to the corners and side passages, huddling in small groups to the side of the main flow of traffic. Players of every designation and classification were consorting among themselves, some ridiculously strong power-levelers, some newbies with all the distinct signs of their ilk. He pressed past them all, listening to as many conversations as he could keep track of, fishing for key words and phrases as he went.

The cobbles under his feet were worn and steady, a thousand years of prosperity providing their ground in the water capital. He entered the main terrace of the city and felt the open breeze hit him, the walls on both sides extending away, lined with shops and players and stories. The great river rushed contentedly along, as it always had and probably always would, flowing under the main bridge and all subsidiary outlying platforms and arches. The wooden docks were scattered haphazardly throughout the boundaries of the river, hung with ropes and banners and painted in the same scheme as the rest of the town with angular red-orange patterns that complimented the time’s architecture. Boats were straddled to a few of the docks, filled with crates of whatever was being traded most frequently. Even in this open area, people filled his view, sitting on all the benches, walking in every direction, sitting on the bridge banisters and sitting in circles away from the middle. It was like he was arriving at the beach at midday on a Saturday – which, now that he pondered it, was entirely correct save the beach part, and hey, there was even water. All he needed was some sand and he could –

He stopped his roaming train of thought. He caught a pair of eyes staring at him through the crowd. People were moving everywhere in front of him, but every other moment, he’d spot the same pair of powder blue eyes, fixed concretely on his own. The pale white face that harbored them was calm and controlled, but it was not without a hint of anxiety. Whenever Exangelus tried to focus, his vision seemed to go out, fuzz up and circle the man’s face, preventing him from getting a good look. His features seemed to change as Exangelus stared, but surely he was just imagining it. For almost five seconds they shared a line of sight, and after a particularly burly Heavy Axe passed by, the figure was gone. Exangelus blinked, and suddenly, he was moving.

He stretched his arm out in front of a passing Blademaster and hurried forward, trying to reach the location where the person had been standing. As quick as a snake through grass, he weaved between the players all around him, advancing on the spot. When he arrived, there was a blank space where he was sure the figure would be. He looked around quickly and was shocked to see the player moving away almost faster than seemed possible, through the crowds and away from Exangelus. He rushed forward, the crowd getting thinner, but still preventing him from moving quickly enough to catch up to his fleeing target. By the time he had gotten all the way to the alley where he saw the man, he was gone, and there was no one around he had seen him pass. Exangelus turned to survey his surroundings – was he hiding somewhere, or was he really just that quick? The alley in front of him was deserted, separated from the main complex by two bridges and a tall, deserted building that blinded the path from sight. There was a series of wooden banisters that he had somehow completely missed as he was rushing through the crowd, that separated his location from practical access. The only people around were thirty feet away, circled around another player who was telling an apparently very intriguing story. Exangelus swiveled back around and looked down the way, gauging his distance to every turnoff and corner.

He received an alert message via FlashMail.

Exangelus couldn’t do much except stare.

This is actually happening. They’re actually tracking this.

He was suddenly panicked. What if they found out that he was one of the people who responded to the post? His account would be suspended and he could have a cop knocking at his door in who knew how much time.

He was staring down at his hands, clenching and unclenching his fists as he thought.

They can’t prove anything. Just because I responded doesn’t mean I did anything wrong. There’s nothing they can tag me for.

“Hey!” Exangelus jerked his gaze up towards the source of the new voice. “You going to follow me, or just stand there?” It was the figure he was pursuing. He was standing at the corner of one of the side passages, back facing Exangelus, face turned so that his voice carried. His stance hinted that he had been waiting for Exangelus to come, so that he could continue to lead him along, and his words seemed to solidify that notion. Exangelus stood, for a moment dumbstruck, and then began again to move, mind solidly made up. He would follow this man, this mysteriously familiar voice, to wherever he would lead. It wasn’t positive, but if gut instinct was any indicator, this man would lead him to the heart of the meeting he had stumbled into. As the man disappeared behind the stone wall, Exangelus heightened his pace and drew his best senses about him. He was not going to be led into anything; he would not be trapped by some group of terrorists, nor would he be caught by any assailing CyberConnect officers or overly petulant Knights of War.

He made a wide arc and turned down the alley, making his careful descent. There was a broken wooden kiosk against the left wall, reed roof falling in and over the counter. Old orange designs were decaying from wood. The right wall was entirely clear save for a pair of barrels near the entrance, lids removed, contents long gone. There were pieces of rock and wood scattered near the edges of the walkway. Up above him, wooden rafters were suspended on either end by poles, tied with rope and nearly rotted through. He made his way past the kiosk and barrels, careful to take the long arc between the two, towards the far end where the alley cut left. There were no shadows cast on the floor before him, and there was nothing occupying the posterior corner. He took the long path around and spotted his leader turning down the second pathway from him, behind another row of kiosks. There were more crates and barrels down this road than the previous, and the level of decay was greater. It seemed that, with each alley he went down, the farther he got from central Mac Anu, the older and more deprecated his surroundings became. It was odd, because for a city, it should have been the other way around. A metropolis expands and leaves its older buildings to decay and atrophy with the constant wear of civilization, and the outer areas and suburbs usually prosper. These areas, though, used only for special events and decoration, provided no solace to extroverts engrossed enough to explore further, as even farther down the alleyway, was a collapsed mass of wood and stone, and he imagined the entire city was blocked off from the outside by the virtual dams. Exangelus hugged the left side of the path and made his way down past the first exit and towards the second where the man he was following had disappeared. He skirted the wooden counter of the rotten stall and followed.

Six loops of left and right, cross-overs and roundabouts, Exangelus finally came around a corner to see his pursuitee standing still. A small group of players had been gathered, and he began to approach them slowly.

A Long Arm stood against the wall opposite a large stack of crates, wearing all white save for ornamental black designs on his clothing and a green headband. He looked worried, anxious, misplaced. Deeper into the alley was a Twin Blade dressed in pale green and silver, black hair wrapped down to the nape of his neck with leather thong; he looked to be actively reading and sending FlashMails, as his expression would default to the standard aloofness that accompanied the action. Across from him, on the other side of the area was a Wavemaster, dressed in powder blue robes, elemental wave signs decorating his sleeve and cheek. Another Twin Blade stood nearer to the crates, and an archer across from her on the wall, both female. Atop the stack stood a slender, black-clad woman, piercing red eyes shooting over to him as he revealed himself from the shadows. Her long white hair was wrapped in a thick ponytail behind her. She carried a vicious heavy blade, black wrought iron hilt curling around a thick, marvelously polished steel blade, carved with unknown symbols and designs, that seemed to be longer than her and twice her weight. Her gaze lingered on him for a moment, then returned to the crowd. Exangelus met eyes again with this man that he had followed, but did not speak; his eyes told him to stand with the others. Exangelus did as he was instructed, not bothering to confront the man himself. He stood, grasping one wrist with his other hand, freely letting his arms hang in front of him, as he gazed at the other players. Ex walked towards the group, feeling out of place; for some reason, almost all of these players seemed to hail from the same clan. The Army of Darkness. He wondered if he should feel out of place as a member of the newest clan, of the Dreamers, but didn’t let the thought linger – he supposed it didn’t matter one way or another. He met gazes with two or three of the players, who addressed him with the same unfamiliar regard as he to them. Surrounded by people he had never met, he felt slightly vulnerable, but he didn’t let this bother him, either. He was here – but damn it, why was he the only one dressed in black?

The meeting seemed to be commencing, as the archer talking to the Long Arm standing with his back against the crates stood and walked back over to join the group. Exangelus crossed his arms, almost in subconscious defense of the unknown assembly, and waited to be addressed. If no one else was talking actively, they must have been waiting for something. The woman standing atop the crate was eyeing the players tentatively.

A faint bell sounded, smooth and cool, signaling he had just received a message in his FlashMail inbox. He opened up the alert and read it. He opened the attachments and read over the articles; and suddenly, he realized, without the shadow of a doubt, that this was bigger than he had ever thought.

Fear us? Over three dozen deaths? A hundred coma patients magically awakening on cue? No, no, no, no, no. These guys couldn’t be linked with all that… could they?

The trailer of the message was oddly dismissive. It was as if they didn’t care that anyone here could leave and spill the beans. And somehow, it made Exangelus want to stay. This was, despite its risk, too intriguing to let slip.

Exangelus spotted a man turn around a corner far on the other side of the alley. He was walking as quickly as he seemed able, his posture slumped and strained. When he finally made it to the main assembly, he immediately clambered up a row of crates and embraced the woman standing there; it was a longing, relieving hug. He turned to the crowd and addressed them shortly.

His name was Raquar. He was a former member of the Eventides. He gave them all the choice to leave or stay, to believe in them or not – and the option was presented at spear-point as he drew his weapon from the harness on his back. No one said anything. He proceeded to mention the names of a good number of groups of whom Exangelus had never heard, and proceeded them with a short detail of their plans – these people, the Eventide Crescendo, worked as underlings to another group to combat a team of assistant hackers to an even larger, more powerful group of hackers, who were in turn being dealt with by the group the Eventides worked under. This all sounded to obscure and cynical to Exangelus, but if the web articles were any indication, no matter how ridiculous this condensed explanation seemed, it was all to real to be joked with. The man called Raquar explained something called Dread Code, what it looked like, how it worked, what it did. He explained a phenomenon called Tar, and told all the individuals standing before him to ask any individual questions they had.

Exangelus could think of a few. So why are you all recruiting random players from The World? Who really are these Elite, and who are the Highers? What do they hope to do? What are the projects they were supposedly working on? Why are you a former member of the EC? Why is CC Corporation after you? What the hell’s a ‘Yamiyo’?

But, he asked none of these questions. If Omega had taught him anything, it was that all questions would be answered in their due time. All things would be revealed, if you only stuck to the path of discovery; if he drove forward, he would know. So, he stood, arms crossed, and did not ask questions. The rest of the members approached the Long Arm, this Raquar, and talked one-on-one with him. They all seemed to have paths to clear, sights to enlighten. But Exangelus did not know these people, and from what he did know, these people could be responsible for the deaths of over thirty people. They could also be responsible for the re-awakening of over a hundred. He did not know. But, he would find out.

One way or another, he was involved in this. One way or another, he had seen the people and heard the speech and received the messages – he was in this for the long run. He still didn’t know who to associate with. But one thing was certain:

According to CyberConnect, and whoever this Xazyx was, Exangelus was officially an associate member of the Eventide Crescendo.

-Zan-

Zan’s recently forged bond with Sekai through blood, memories and trust still lingered as a hopeful warmth next to his heart as he and the Archer walked through the alleyways of Mac Anu. The one she had chosen to lead him down, the one this ‘Nemera’ had Flashmailed her the coordinates of, was far more convoluted and intricate than he remembered most of them. The Water Capital certainly wasn’t a small place by any means, but the werewolf still found himself surprised at how many twists and turns the duo was making. A deep breath brought with it the plastered scents of the city around him; the earthy smell of cobblestone, the sweat from players that socialized beneath the hot day’s sun, the refreshing feather-light invigoration of the waters, and the crusted copper of Angel’s dried blood that kept wafting out from his mouth. The Lycan wondered how long that’d take to completely go away. No matter how much he wished it wasn’t so, the aroma of crimson life had a tendency to stick around with him even when he moved field to field. Sure, the stains would vanish, but the smell? Only with time and a whole lot of distraction.

The trip, one that had them passing crate collection after musty crate collection, seemed to continue on in relative silence. With everything the two now knew about one another, they seemed to be digesting it. Only a fool would deny the importance of what had transpired between them and Zan had learned long ago not to be one of them. Alright, it wasn’t always avoidable, but it was something he tended to give a wide berth whenever he had the chance. Even Kira, Sekai’s Long Arm companion, and Nulus, Zan’s trusted combat partner, walked with them without much of a peep. If anything was said, even the lycanthrope’s keen hearing was too lost in his contemplations to pay it any heed. Nulus, or ‘Nul’ as he called himself in human form, sported black combat boots on his feet, equally dark pants, a charcoal-hued t-shirt with the runes for Ani and Juk overlapped on its front, and a waist-length leather jacket that was as raven as the rest of it. That combination of a green-outlined black symbol and a forest-shaded second over one another duplicated itself on the back of the jacket. Nul’s hair, seeming to go along with the rest of his outfit, is a jet black of semi-short length with a strand or three falling in front of his eyes from its otherwise naturally smooth and combed existence from time to time.

Next to his Heavy Blade friend, Nulus didn’t look much different. Zan had the same black combat boots and the same dark pants with shirt as green as the symbol on Nul’s own. Unlike the now-human Shade’s, however, the werewolf’s leather coat was of the trench variety and hung just above his ankles with a hood that was currently hanging unused on his back. The more-aptly eyed players of ‘The World’ would notice something playing with their eyes if they set them on the coat, a myriad of tribal-esque markings laid in a color of obsidian just a tick lighter than the coat itself. As far as Zan was aware, they were designed in the Shifter Tongue that Michael Grahm had invented when lycanthropic Twilight was busy churning in his digital lab. What they meant? At times he knew, at others the knowledge seemed to just slip his grasp. In total, though, he was aware that it declared him a powerful resident of ‘The World’s deleted Zeta server, also known to a select few as the ‘Shadow of The World.’ It was all purple nonsense, of course, but the Lycan couldn’t be held accountable for the egotistical crafts of another.

At his wrists were several-inch long 'cuffs' the color of his jacket and just abotu everything else he wore. Along their surface were tribal markinsg as indiscernable as the ones on the the lycanthrope's jacket. The only thing to stand out, perhaps, were the round, marble-sized orbs on top of them with a crease down their centers that made them look like closed eyes (which, it so happened, they were). Hanging around the hollow of Zan’s throat, a little below it, was a silver ball necklace with a full moon at its center. The flat, circular artifact was his key into the Shadow, but to the majority of the populace it was just another aesthetic accessory. Perhaps the most immediately noticable aspect of the man, however, was the left side of his face, a portion of skin that was compiled of semi-healed burns and blotchy white scars that made him look like a version of the old horror-movie villain. Krugor, was it?

The Heavy Blade’s hair was tussled and a rich, soil-brown that just barely touched his shoulders. His eyes were a blue like new ice, like ocean light reflecting off of a glacier. Once upon a time, they had been an equally cold thing to look at, but with Sekai and Raquar’s help, and guilt for recent atrocities committed on his part, they had become surprisingly human. It was with those same eyes that he took in the gathered numbers with faces all but completely estranged from his memory. Part of Zan was disgusted to see it, to see Nall indirectly bringing about more soldiers into his private army, but still part of him felt a bloom of pride for humanity. As he had been made to know it, the call to this meeting hadn’t been a pleasant one, hadn’t been something that would naturally inspire most of mankind that he had grown to know. The inherent danger was obvious and its acknowledgement was given but unspoken. Not too long after Sekai, Kira, Nul and his arrival, the entire party seemed taken aback by something. Being that he couldn’t see, hear or smell it, the lycanthrope was almost certain it was a Flashmail. The only reason he could conjure that that same thing wasn’t sent to him was because he’d have no access to it. Something on the BBS perhaps. The net? Either way, the silent figure assumed it would be explained in time. Currently, there were far more important things to ponder over.

When Raquar made his appearance, when one of Zan’s best friends engulfed the bodice-sporting Heavy Blade atop the crates with a hug so big it could snuff a life, the entire crowd seemed to fall into a temporary silence. It was as if they were partaking in a funeral, the eulogy of their loved one - of their old selves - spoken out in rushed prose. The Ani-loving Long Arm had began to change as of late and it showed in the way he carried himself throughout. Sure, there was strength and defiance there, as proven by his repartee with a vest-clad Twin Blade, but there was an endless maw of fatigue and responsibility in the pits of his eyes. Raquar seemed like Atlas with that look; a titan burdened with the weight of the world without a soul to help him bear it a bit more. The Heavy Blade had thought he had given him that, given him friendship enough to revoke such a stare, but now he understood that his fellow Freedom Fighter’s problems lay deeper in a stubborn grave of secretive darkness and welcomed dirt. Too bad. Due to the fact that he could think of nothing else to do in his rushed moment of sadness and sympathy for his friend, Zan’s hand found comfort in a quick squeeze of Sekai’s own before he let it go once more.

Almost as soon as the embrace of digits had ended, a Wavemaster approached Zan and a simple but informative conversation ensued. It reminded him, if nothing else, that one of equal importance needed to be had with the looming Long Arm. After all, a Flashmail had requested his time and with fear for Raquar’s nameless predicament sounding the horn of his loyalty, there was no time to waste.

The Lycan approached his newly-fashioned friend with a smile on his face that creased the scar tissue on his left cheek. "You wanted to talk, amigo?"

The approach of the lycan didn't go unnoticed. He had such a huge presence, without the giant physical stature in his human form. Wearily, the Long Arm ran a hand through his hair. "I'm not surprised to see you here. I'm sure you'll be careful enough, and with as much skill as you possess, I'm sure you'll do fine. However it is another I'm worried about." His eyes drifted too another member of their little motley crew. "Look out for her? She doesn't always make the best decisions, and is terribly innocent. And if anything happened to her while in this state . . ." It was almost too hard to say. "Can you make sure for me that that doesn't happen?"

Zan could understand Raquar's fear for her, but it made him realize how little the Long Arm knew Sekai. With what had happened not a few minutes before collecting in the alleyway with the Archer, the lycanthrope knew that almost every assumption the other player had made about her was incorrect. Placing an understanding hand on Raq's shoulder, Zan laughed a hint. "She makes the decisions best for her, hombre. As for innocent..." Flashes of finding out about Sekai's molestation as a child by her father and his friends and the recent hint of the sexual embrace between her and Kira found him. "She is hardly that. I used to think so, but...she just isn't. Sekai's stronger than most people give her credit." Retracting his hand, Zan relaxed himself a bit further. "I'll look out for her, as I would anyone else, but I know I won't need to. The others, though, I'm not so sure about."

He sighed, and hung his head. "I know she's not Zan, I know. And yet, I'm still fearful. Look at the Angel situation. I just." He scratched absently at the sash-covered left arm. "I don't need to lose another close to my heart."

Zan, stern, shook his head. "You have my word that she will leave the field physically intact. Though, to be honest, I don't think it'll be by my hand." The werewolf laughed. "She's tough as hell. She'll probably save my ass."

To which they parted company, Raquar presumably drifting off to answer the inquiries of another and Zan simply needing more time to assess the situation and those that had made themselves a part of it. A thought nagged at him in the back of his head like a bad dream, something he wanted to forget, and the werewolf couldn’t struggle against the tide of accusations that came with its notice. Why hadn’t he been more thorough with the man? Why hadn’t he asked the Long Arm about why he looked so burdened, so meek and shakingly strong at the same moment? Though perhaps the word itself was needlessly harsh, Zan contemplated it just the same: cowardice. With all of his own issues polluting his psyche and Sekai’s added to the mix like gasoline to Hell, the grieving man feared that he couldn’t bear it if the flames got any hotter. He feared that Raquar’s metaphysical coals would be the last added to the pile before he was completely, emotionally immolated. Did that make him a friend or a cousin of Judas Iscariot? Zan shuddered at the possibility.

The exchange between Raquar and Sekai, with the lycanthrope at a small distance, proved itself to me amusing enough near the end to allow him to forget about the bad. Preternatural hearing brought the ‘oaf’ comment to his ears and, despite himself, Zan laughed. Very few people could get away with calling him that and not have him showing them their own intestines. When previous things came back to him like the crack of a whip, the Heavy Blade allowed himself the merciful grace of ignoring them. It was clear that the Long Arm had other places to be and that particular point in time was probably not the best to approach about something personal anyway. The collection of people, the collection of strangers, was far from secure. One in particular, a player who’s name tagged him as ‘Exangelus’, seemed rather out of place. Though he looked safe in his aptitude, not giving off any of the tell-tale signs of self-doubt, there was also an awkwardness to the way he stood. It was almost as if he was deciding what to do with his hands. It could have all been just in Zan’s head, but the Lycan was fairly certain that his perceptions weren’t failing him. If there was something about the group, aside from the obvious, that was making him feel that way…well, Zan was currently oblivious to it. Still, he noted the individual as someone to keep an eye on, his natural Freedom Fighter paranoia beginning to rear its ugly head.

Even as it all took place, the conversations and the stares and the analysis, a part of the werewolf was busy keeping tabs on things going on in the main hustle and bustle of Mac Anu. Inhuman hearing, once more, allowed him this sentinel duty; months with Nighthand and the others had gifted him with a degree of skill in that particular field. None of the Knights of War were on their way to bust up the party and no stray player was making their way through the enigma of twists and turns that had brought them here. Sure, a few of them were drifting dangerously close to the almost circular radius Zan’s mind had slapped up, but nothing that made him think anyone was onto them. There were several things a dedicated CyberConnect employee could do to stealth their visuals or even their sound, but the overconfident bureaucrats had nothing to stop them from having a scent. Twilight’s ability to project such a thing onto a select group of individuals simply wasn’t taken into account. Elites weren’t as stupid, of course, but the Lycan was finally able to relax in the face of an inferior enemy. They had numbers and statistics, sure, but Zan found it difficult not to think he could outsmart tie-sporting jerkoffs if the shit really hit the proverbial fan. Did that make him the very overconfident figure he was accusing his enemy of being? Perhaps, but the Heavy Blade was always careful not to claim perfection.

As time wore on and it was becoming clearer and clearer the Eventides and their ‘mercenaries’ were about to mobilize, Zan’s anxiety mounted to the point that he no longer felt sated by scent and hearing alone. On the off chance the Knights or these ‘Highers’ had discovered their position, he wanted a chance to spot even the speediest thing coming from the rooftops. Not at all taking the time to consider the fact that it wasn’t normal for any regular player to do so, the werewolf took the quickest path to his goal - up. Scaling the nearby building with a speed and inhuman grace that shouldn’t have been possible within the game’s usual parameters, Zan launched himself to the roof with the sound of his trench coat whipping briefly in the wind. That grace continued to aid him even as he landed, enabling him to fall to his feet without more than the subtle sound of chipped stone grinding softly below his boots. Keen eyes would show that, where his hands had been in the side of the building, tiny, evenly spaced pock marks were left behind. Despite that, with the jerks of motion that propelled him, it was unlikely that any spotted the slight claws that had capped his fingertips. They were gone as soon as he landed, of course, and as he had intended, Zan made himself intimately aware with the world around. It was still safe, luckily, from his new vantage point.

Still on the ground, Nul kept himself astutely leaned against the same wall Zan had scaled, his back obscuring all but the highest of the previously mentioned marks. Whether it was conscious or not, trying to hide Zan’s unintentionally careless display or simply using the worked, aged mass for comfort, the then-human Shade did his best to look as bored as he could. After all, his desire to socialize with the new faces was about as high as the same guy who just fled to go to higher ground. It would be unavoidable in the long run and, from the look of it, Nul might even grow to like some of those that had come together. There was a look in a few of their eyes, one that screamed of loyalty and fortitude, and such qualities earned the dark-clad individual’s favor and respect. Looks could never entirely be depended on, of course, but as first impressions went…well, that certainly wasn’t why Nul was being such a recluse. Unlike Zan, though he could tap into his partner’s mind to get a read on the information if he felt like arguing with the Heavy Blade about the intrusion, he didn’t know where the Knights of War would. The duo shared gratuitous amounts of worry and, in the process, Nul simply couldn’t bring himself to feel safe. It didn’t matter how many twists they had made or turns they had followed; the feeling of absolute security wasn’t something he came across anymore. Would these people, these eager players, become that jaded?

Zan, eyes peeled like a hungry hawk, had started to realize his slip up. If Nemera and Raquar were trying to convince them - and succeeded, as it looked - that the Eventide Crescendo wasn’t a group of people seeking to take part in illegal activities, it wasn’t going to help if he suddenly started to display blatant rejections of the system. Sekai possessed them too, though the Lycan had yet to discover the exactness of her abilities, and Sidhe and Nemera no doubt possessed ‘hacks’ as they were commonly referred. Raquar’s eerie control of Ani came to mind as well, but since the werewolf assumed he’d be parting the party soon enough, it wasn’t something that hit him as relevant. Zan knew he could worry about their reaction all he wanted, but in the end the Higher’s field would likely call upon him to rip even more ruthless gouges into what Talal, Shenmock, Baron, and Exangelus had come to expect as acceptable within ‘The World.’ It was probably for the better than they were exposed to some of the preliminaries beforehand. On the off chance it wouldn’t be necessary to actually inform them, however, any questions forward to the lycanthrope would be answered with necessary lies or vague truths to keep nipping curiosities at bay.

All in good time, as the saying goes.

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

((OOC:

In case it wasn't obvious, you'll know the seperation of GM and Zan posts by the heading. The GM post will come within the next day or two, I plan.

:OOC))

-GM-

The crowd that had gathered had Nemera’s brows in an almost uncontainable quirk. They were the epitome of rag-tag, no doubt, but there was also an edge of eagerness in the way their stances shifted this way and that, in the way some of their conversation was done in whispers even in an alleyway void of any but them. It was something that had the Heavy Blade wondering what they had gone through, what blights ‘The World’ had placed upon them. No casual player stared at her with the kind of maintained fire, one always held light and low and ready to flare at a moment’s notice, they possessed. Sidhe, the sapphire-hued Long Arm, seemed to share her brief summary of the Eventide’s latest recruits. Before Gan, the man had an air of pessimistic skepticism about him like black storm clouds ready to scream down their thunder when it came to the individuals that were rounded up. Now? The stolid player had an itch in his eyes that begged to see what they were all capable of. Probably past experiences, willingness, real humanity; Nemera was beginning to believe more and more that ‘The World’ had a latent consciousness with a moral compass working in their favor.

Not long after she sent the linked Flashmail to them, the individual mentioned at its end made himself known in a manner both abrupt and expected. Rather than do what any who knew her thought she’d do, but she thought she’d do, Nemera sank into the hug like a tired woman, having swam for days, that finally found land. Though he expected anger from her, all the Heavy Blade had to give was her affection and a shard of herself to console his guilt. He was the laid back, vague boy no longer. Experience with the Freedom Fighters and his lasting memories of Tiral’s last moments had transformed him into a man brimming with power and loyalty and a heart as big as the city they currently resided in thumping away in the cage of his chest. A soft, brief but still altogether tender kiss found itself on his cheek before she let him go. Their care for an individual that had sacrificed himself for their advancement had brought them close in a way that she couldn’t even share with someone like Centrus. It made Raquar seem like member three of those closest to her heart; a proud titan of darkness standing side-by-side with Tiral and Sidhe.

The next moments were a blur to her, the statue of a woman standing firm upon her pedestal as the revelations of the Flashmail and Raquar’s speech sunk in to those that had replied to the BBS board. Nemera expected flashes of horror and the fleeting sound of sprinting footsteps, but what she received was akin to renewed determination and purpose. What had they all been through? What scars lay in their bitterly twined souls? Zan’s scars were perhaps more literal, but surely their existence and their cause had spawned something deeper? Sekai, Takua, and the recent arrivals; why did shadows lurk in their retina like snakes slithering around prey? Endless questions that could only be answered through asking them…and she doubted she ever would. Nemera wasn’t one to intrude upon buried secrets even if she was beginning to twitch with curiosity. Only when all interactions seemed to have taken place and the group was at the silent ready did she finally begin to churn out the plan again in her head, repeating to herself what had been constructed with Sidhe and Gyl near a lake as blue as that same Long Arm’s hair. They’d head for the Chaos Gate, inconspicuous as they could, and give Gyl some time to hack it from a distance. The field that housed the Juk Incarnation had been locked not a day after one assumed a very angry Dirge returned to a field of absolute nothing. The only offline member of the official Eventide ‘four’ would need a little time to pull off the breach, but it would be done. With a goodbye to Raquar, the man leaving to return to the Freedom Fighters, she spoke up.

“Alright, it’s time for us to leave. We don’t have time to make a big complicated deal out of this, so we’ll have to do with only a mildly secure plan of action. You and you-” Said with a point to Sekai and Talal respectively. “-will come with me. You and you-” Fingers jabbed their way in the general direction of Zan on the roof and Baron still grounded. “-will go with Sidhe. You and you-” Exangelus and Shenmock were accused with a sickled digit. “-will follow Takua. We can only afford to be spaced out by a couple of feet but it’s going to have to do. Getting into the field is going to take a second, so do your best to look like a casual party. To whom it may concern, also note that we’re going to be automatically forwarded to the Theta Server without actually stepping foot in Dun Loireag. We figure this will throw anybody trying to follow us off our trail.” A pause. “Now would be good.”

Snapping to attention, it was Takua’s group that first began their way through the maze and back into the city. Not two or three yards behind them was Sidhe’s group and, last but not least, her own nipped at their heels. The journey was one made with mounting stress in Nemera’s throat, an inherent risk that couldn’t be denied trailing them like a nightmare in-between dreams and consciousness. When they had emerged onto the streets of the Water Capital, it wasn’t long before the Knights of War began to toss them suspicious eyes. The only thing that kept the Heavy Blade from losing her cool and simply bolting under the pressure of it all was, A: because people she wanted to obey her orders were watching and certainly wouldn’t respect a leader who’d do that, and B: several other innocent players were earning the same look. Whatever Administrator had been put on the Eventide Crescendo’s case had the Knights afraid and on their toes like rats that fought instead of fled. What lies had been whispered into their ears? What hateful things had been uttered? Nemera hadn’t the nerve or the stupidity to ask, so she simply kept walking on. When they had arrived at their destination, what should have been a sanctuary became a place of panic with a simple Flashmail. A lot of things seemed to be starting that way nowadays.

As promised, whatever small tweaks had been noticed amongst the group about their avatars vanished. Hope was only allowed for the span of a thought before, with a surrounding sigh of movement, the Knights of War shifted to face the swirl of aquatic energy and golden metal. What was yelled then ranged from ‘Hey, it’s them!’ to more vulgar exasperations like ‘Fuck me, the Eventides!’ (something certainly to get them fired at another point in time). Nemera’s weapon was drawn in a fluid motion and a swirl of data, held at the ready. She was not going to lose anyone already. She didn’t care that, in Mac Anu, deaths didn’t hold the wait that they often did in the Higher fields. Takua, Sekai and Zan followed her lead first, experience gearing them up in the blink of an eye. If anyone else did, she was already too lost in her combat focus to notice what her allies were up to. There was no warning, no charging shout or bellowed oaths of violence. There was simply pause proceeded by the first wave of soldiers charging at them like a murder of carrion crows. Like the previous point in the alleyway, the contents of what came next were more hazy than clear to the female Heavy Blade. The wave, comprised of two handfuls of strength-gauging warriors that couldn’t have been higher than ten in level, was taken out with sloppy efficiency, but efficiency just the same. There had been enough of them for each of the people involved to have taken down two or three, but something as trivial as counting had been discarded for more necessary skills like parrying and sword blitzes.

It was over not long after it began and, already, a larger squadron of eager CyberConnect whipping boys were readying their convergence. Before it could occur, however, something from behind those north of them began to part them like Moses at the Red Sea. Whoever it was held enough authority to pull from frightened yelps of surprise from the armored numbers and whispers of awe-inspired fealty. Was this the Administrator who had responded to the BBS message, the one Gyl had told her about? Be it a hacked play of the sun or simple luck, Nemera couldn’t quite get a lock on what he - or she, the Heavy Blade wondered - looked like, but she was certain she didn’t want to. Closer and closer the obscured individual came until, as if Gyl had just been playing them, they disappeared in a mass collection of golden rings that robbed them of the mysterious person’s visual identity just as the last two soldiers began to move.

Any lingering objections were forgotten the moment Nemera was deposited into the new field. Trees with the diameter of two linked public buses and a height of a small skyscraper loomed above the Eventide Crescendo like adults seemed to when they had all been toddlers. There was an undeniable, similar sense of security as well, but something in Nemera told her it was a lie. There was no safety in the place they now found themselves in. None. Branches linked together and the sky was hidden beneath dark green leaves all but completely. Gloomy light, one present right before hard rainfall, still managed to lance a ray or two down to the group’s wandering eyes. In random directions, cicadas chirped and an almost out-of-place owl hooted its continuous hello. To those trapped in the game, it held a scent that reminded them both of their happiest day in the park and their saddest day trapped in a rain that had yet to fall in that place; a green aroma of soil, foliage, bark and dew. Beneath their covered feet, soft dirt gave way to their weight. Small, baseball-sized orbs of shimmering jade light also flittered around this way and that like fireflies in the summer and seemed to only continue an attempt to relax them. It was all in vain, however. Already Nemera could hear a virtual army pounding its way towards them on hooves, feet and claws. They had been expected.

They were not alone.

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

((OOC:

Annnd…post up! If your character chose to fight the first wave of Knights, feel free to have them kill upwards of three. Their levels don’t exceed ten, those that had initially attacked, so I’m sure you can all find the logic in your character’s victory if you choose to fight.

Any questions can be asked in the clan thread or forwarded to my PM box/IMs.

Enjoy!

:OOC))

Why had it always been him getting there first and probably being the most afraid?

He hated being alone in this awkward silence. It made him uneasy. No one else was here. He knew Baron and Talal were coming, but when? Were they busy with work or something? He didn’t want to be here all alone in this place. He was freaking out right now, nothing that would help what was happening right now. He was in a dark alleyway, with two people he didn’t know. For all he knew, they could be people wanting to kill him. He didn’t know what to do, but all he knew was that he’d be okay in the end. He had seen the flash-mail and he didn’t think they were lying about things that were real articles with real dates. He looked around again, only to find someone was coming. It was Baron, but he wasn’t quite the Baron that he remembered. He was stronger and all, but…there was something different about him. He no longer wore his bandanna with the half-moon on it, but let his black hair come down. He didn’t look like the same person, but still, he looked mostly like the treasure hunter that he had seen before. He seemed like someone happy to be here…yet poor old Shenmock was freaked out enough to have goose bumps coming up about a foot high. Okay, there was one person. There were a lot more. He looked at the alleyway that Sidhe had once again vanished into. He was probably in Mac Anu once again waiting for somebody to come again. He frowned at the dark alleyway with the broken pipes that stuck out, water dripping out until a full puddle formed. It was messy in the alleyways, but that was why people avoided them. It was a good place to be for a meeting place.

He saw a shape come around the corner. His heart skipped a beat for a moment, but found that it was Sidhe, followed by a blue-robed Wavemaster. He had the signs of most of the elements scattered across his robe. It looked like the design was well, thought out. The robe went down to the knees. It seemed unusual to see the pants of someone, but they didn’t really seem ordinary. He ignored it and found that it was a man. It was the only Wavemaster that would be joining them so he guessed this as Takua, another one of the people who posted on the BBS in response to the thread. He looked like he was pretty experienced in these quests by the looks and the words he had said on the BBS. He had been here once before. Shenmock was sure of that much. He walked in and Sidhe once again disappeared in the shadows. Shenmock shivered for a moment as his shape became invisible in the shadows as he went through the alleyway. He wondered if he came in different areas as to not gain suspicion by somebody. It was a good idea. That was for sure.

It only took a few minutes for him to get the next new Eventide. It was Talal this time. She came in, her ordinary clothes on. She had her sash wrapped around and her regular two-piece outfit. Talal and him really didn’t stand out that much. Baron’s design was unique, and Takua seemed to be one that had somewhat unique clothing for a Wavemaster, but he couldn’t quite tell for sure. She seemed to be the same person he had seen in his previous quest. She hadn’t changed anything, but why would she need to do that? He hadn’t changed his design, and didn’t really plan to. He thought his costume was just fine. He looked himself over. At least he thought it was.

The next person to arrive was somebody that at first sight, he thought was somebody who wasn’t supposed to be there. But he realized that no one was taking action, so she must’ve been one of the people who had been here before too. She was there, with another girl. He didn’t know either of their names, but thought they must’ve been friends or something along the lines of that. He just wished that he knew her name. It was kind of awkward knowing that you knew everyone’s name so far except one single person. There was probably going to be one other person like that, but he wasn’t too concerned about that right now. She had a battle hardened shoulder guard and under that was an emerald green tank. What he noticed most about this person was the wings that stood out 4 feet across. He had no idea how she had gotten those, but they were extremely rare. That much was for sure.

He didn’t really pay attention to the other girl, but looked over to see the final person arrive. It must’ve been Exangelus because he was the last one to be led by Sidhe. Sidhe didn’t go back, so he assumed so. Exangelus had a complicated design, that was for sure. Though he wore a basic trench coat, he wore small belt-like strands around his arms. He really didn’t examine much else. He didn’t even bother with anything, because his head turned around to where Nemera stood. It seemed they were still waiting for him. She wasn’t talking or anything, so that was just what he assumed. He looked around, then saw one person arrive. The only way he could’ve saw it was because he was looking up at Nemera, but if he hadn’t, he probably wouldn’t have noticed the person that was up there. He couldn’t really see much, but he could tell that he was a Heavy Blade and was probably the strongest one here after seeing his design. He seemed like a calm person, but he didn’t really know anything about him. Basically, everyone here was a stranger excluding Baron and Talal. Was it really going to be like that the whole quest? When were the introductions going to be made?

The questions were made, most being simple. None were of interest to him, but he paid attention nonetheless. Baron seemed to be taking precautions and with that, he got threatened in his first five minutes. He knew they were dead serious, and he just hoped that Baron trusted them as much as everyone else did. Well, he didn’t very much trust them, but he wanted information and was he going to tell them that? He really didn’t think so. He looked around after most of the questions were made, unsure if he wanted to ask anything? He opened his mouth, but lost the question immediately since the girl was already choosing what seemed like our teams for a while. Typical parties were being formed as to not stand out. She started choosing. First, it was Talal and the Archer, who he really didn’t know. The two girls were typically with the other girl, Nemera. That was pretty easy to choose. Then she paired the Heavy Blade with Baron and Sidhe. The last three were him, Takua, and Exangelus. She pointed at the three of the, telling them that they were together. He looked at the two of them. They seemed as calm as ever. He looked around, dumbfounded. He was the idiot of this group as he saw it. He sighed. Well, he’d just have to deal with it. Takua walked out first, then Exangelus. He stumbled behind them and saw that everyone else was coming out of the area just like them. They were going to try to act like they weren’t together. That was pretty easy, right? He just hoped that not too many people were after them. He shuddered at the thought of being caught in the act, but he thought that the group would be able to handle CCCorp., right?

They walked together like ordinary party groups. He tried to act like one with his facial expression. If he gave them away, they were dead. Knights were scattered across Mac Anu. They were being suspicious as they usually were. He had a smile on his face and acted like they were going on a nice quest together. He thought he was doing a pretty good job of it, in his opinion. He heard the quick noise of a flash-mail, but didn’t dare turn to look at Nemera, who had gotten it. He had heard it and knew it was her that received, but didn’t look back. In a second, he knew something wasn’t right. In a second, knights had surrounded them, a whole squadron of them. He was just happy that they weren’t in the other city. They would’ve had higher level knights to deal with, or so he thought. He looked around, still a bit surprised, but Nemera drew her blade in Mac Anu, prepared to fight. He looked at the Knights that glared at them and yelled curses at them. Most looked both afraid of them and excited to get a chance to kill them. The Archer, Takua, and the Heavy Blade followed suit.

He froze as they all prepared their weapons. Most drew swords, but others had a variety of weapons. Some had spears, others wands, others Heavy Blades, and others the special classes. He frowned at all of them. He didn’t feel like fighting a bunch of idiot knights today. He just wanted to get to the field and get over with the quest. He closed his eyes for a moment and looked at the knights as they charged forward at the group. A full-out squadron, after them? Ha! A knight jumped at him. He jumped back, only to find that more knights were around him. He tried to dodge, but knew this would be drawn out into a fight. He jumped and slid back close to the group as the battle came in. He pulled out his River Spear, preparing it for the battle against the people who proved that justice was the right way to go. He prepared his spear for a swing. A knight jumped at him. He swung at him, his spear slamming into his sword and making him stumble back a bit. These guys weren’t very strong. There was a clang of steel as the others came and started fighting. His leg twisted around, his body following. He swung behind him, clashing sword with spear. He swung again, but the knight dodged to the right. He ducked as the knight stabbed forward. With a quick sweep of his foot, he tripped the knight. The knight fell to the ground. He stabbed forward and sent his spear straight through his chest. Though the knight wasn’t dead, he was damaged enough that he wouldn’t be moving for a minute or more. He pulled his spear out, only to see another knight in his midst.

The knight jumped at him, swinging his sword forward. Shenmock dodged to the right and swung his spear up as hard as he good. The sword was knocked out of the knight’s grasp almost immediately. He swung his spear forward, getting a combo of five in before hitting him back, leaving him to grab up his sword and retreat for a short while. He only sighed, seeing that another knight was coming after him. This time he took a different action and threw his sword at Shenmock. Shenmock was taken by surprise and was stabbed straight in his left arm. He was forced to pull it out immediately. Blood spilled. He muttered a quick Repth, then spun around, sending off a quick Rue Zot at the knight.

The knight was weaponless so he couldn’t guard. The knight was hit with the spell at full blast. The knight stood there, most of its body frozen solid. Shenmock didn’t bother to look at it or admire the blue aura that surrounded him and made him feel so good. There was something that needed to be taken care of: more knights. He hadn’t really killed anyone. Most he had injured pretty badly, others retreating. The ice cracked, then shattered into hundreds of small pieces. He grinned as the knight crumbled to the ground. He mumbled a quick Juk Rom, finishing off the knight once and for all. He had killed one of the knights. He was one of the people who was an Eventide. Was he glad for this? He couldn’t say yes, but he couldn’t say no. All he knew was that these people had been told endless lies so that they’d be inspired to kill, inspired to try and destroy a group who only wanted people to live. He charged forward, swinging his spear at a knight who held a huge blade. It brought it up in defense, but wasn’t very quick to retaliate. Shenmock ducked under the blade and arrived in the small space. He kneed him in the crotch, then swung his spear, hitting him back. The knight only went a few feet, then swung his blade, landing a good-sized hit on his shirt. A bit of digital blood trickled down it, but it wasn’t enough to make a huge difference.

Shenmock prepared his spear, noticing that more and more players were surrounding the group of them. He swung his spear again and clashed the two weapons again. He ducked as a swing came, but couldn’t avoid the upwards slash that came up and got his knee. He jumped back and swung his spear, seeing as his spear was longer than the blade. Seeing that he hit, he charged forward and jumped, swinging his spear down to finish the knight off. The knight guarded once again and tried parrying, but failed in the attempt, seeing as Shenmock followed up with a slash. In a second, the knights head flew off, blood spraying everywhere. Shenmock didn’t even know what he had done until he saw the body crumble to the ground, dematerializing in a second. His eyes grew wide for a moment. He looked around at the other players that fought. He was fighting for a good cause, and with that, he’d have to kill players? He grimaced at the thought of it. A knight charged at him and swung his short sword at him. Shenmock reacted by bending back as the sword grazed across the jacket and T-shirt, grazing off a bit of hair as it went. His hands went back a bit and he forced himself up. He pushed himself off the ground and did a back flip. He was a bit dizzy after it, but swung his spear to clash spear with sword once again. The knight ducked and kicked forward, landing it right on his chest. He stumbled back, but managed to get his spear up in time to push it away. His foot went against the wall. In a second, he pushed off, the momentum being enough for a good strike on his part. He leaped forward, spun once, and stabbed forward, landing a hit on the knight’s arm, but not doing as much as he had hoped.

The knight swung at him again, in a cross slash. He had learned that these were impossible to dodge unless you jumped back. He jumped back in a second and swung his spear. The spear went in an uppercut formation and hit the guy in the cheek. His head with it and he spat out blood and saliva as it hit. He spun once and finished him off, with a cut to the chest. The man’s body crumbled to the ground at that moment. He smiled and looked around at the fight that came out around him. Another squadron had come. More knights came in. He cursed as one came at him. He just hoped that they could all take care of them. He prepared his spear for a skill. If he could get a skill and a spell on one of those guys, they were dead meat. He prepared his spear.

“Rue Wipe!”

They should’ve seen it coming. His spear whipped forward quickly, hitting one of the knights straight in the chest before he could swing his sword at Shenmock to deal a hit. The blue aura surrounded him. It showed that he was aligned with the Rue element. He grinned at the knight as he got up, preparing his blade. The knight swung forward. Shenmock blocked and tried parrying, but failed in the attempt, only be slashed by a sword. The sword came at him again. He ducked, only to realize another thing: they had skills too. A white aura surrounded the knight and he charged forward, swinging his sword down. He was hit back a bit by the powerful attack. It took a chunk out of his HP, but he had enough to hold off enemies. The knight came at him with his sword prepared for a stab. Shenmock rolled to the right and got up as quickly as his legs would let him. With a quick slash, he hit him in the chest. He didn’t know how much health they had, but they weren’t too strong and powerful, that was for sure. He stretched his arms and noticed that most were finished off. But someone was coming. Someone was coming right at them. They were finished by the looks of things but-

He didn’t have enough time to finish the thought. Three golden rings surrounded all of them and they were whisked off to the field. He didn’t see anything, but the two knights that tried to jump at them. There was the brief loading screen, then came the field. It was the field that they were coming to. It was the field that his fate lay in.

The field was basically a grassy plain. It was unique, that much was for sure. He noticed that the sky was covered by many leaves that prevented them from seeing anything. He stared at them for a moment, wondering why they had covered up the sky, but then noticed everyone around him. Everyone was here, safe and sound. No stragglers, no people that had been left behind. Okay, everything was good. An owl hooted in the distance. He flinched at that. He hadn’t heard an owl hoot in a field before. It was strange, but this field seemed…way too different from the others. He heard something. There was something far in the distance coming at them. He slowly turned, wondering what was in the distance. He didn’t find out, but all he could hear was hooves.

This wasn’t going to be pretty.

After Raquar’s last statement towards him, Baron had turned patiently towards the woman on the stack of crates, whom he assumed was Nemera. The flashmail that had been sent a minute ago was evidence enough, since Baron didn’t see any other female characters around that he didn’t recognize previously. Talal, the female Twin Blade of the group, he knew from a quest they had been on together. Baron had met Sekai and her… friend, at the Hot Springs Event held in the past. Kira, wasn’t it? His memory was a bit foggy, and he had only glimpsed the other female’s name briefly at the Event. The real memory that still remained from the Event… well, the best way to put it was that a perpetual double-image lingered in his thoughts when he saw the girl. His face turned briefly crimson as he remembered once more, and then he cleared his throat before facing away from Kira.

Finally, with a goodbye to the group, especially the female Heavy Blade on the crates, Raquar exited the area. Baron had an almost… regretful feeling about the black-clad Long Arm leaving, but there was nothing else that the male Twin Blade could say. With an almost undetectable shrug, Baron watched Raquar leave before turning back to Nemera and the rest of the group. The female leader had already begun a speech of her own, and it was the first time that Baron had heard her talk. He listened carefully as she laid out the plan of action, pointing out players to go in groups together. Baron had to wonder why Nemera had selected the groups as she had- wouldn’t it have made more sense to stick similarly-leveled players together so that each party would seem more reasonable? It was almost as if the Heavy Blade had chosen at random, but regardless of her reasoning (or lack thereof), Baron just had to trust her and see what would happen.

Baron followed Nemera’s gesture, towards the Twin Blade’s left. He knew that was where another male Heavy Blade was standing, though he hadn’t actually seen the man closely enough to determine if he was familiar. However, where she was pointing was slightly elevated, and Baron followed it up… to the roofs? Atop one of the nearby buildings, the man perched on the rooftop, watching the area around them, even looking down at the various players scattered below. The sun was at Baron’s back this time, so it shone on the Heavy Blade’s face, and the Twin Blade was finally able to identify the other person he’d be going with.

The unusually quiet treasure hunter was paired up with Zan, another player that he had met during the Hot Springs Event- then again, most of the players in the Army of Darkness had been there, and the male Heavy Blade had not been an exception to the rule. However, the two had only met briefly, mainly with Zan threatening him about upsetting or harming Sekai in any way. Baron had only gone over to chat, yet the male Heavy Blade seemed to be very protective of his friend. Baron didn’t know what had happened between the two players, but something had happened and the Twin Blade didn’t plan on getting Zan angry. Beyond being nearly twice his level, Zan was an intimidating figure, between the visible scars on his body, the black trench coat, and the constant… well, what Baron assumed to be a scowl. Regardless, it made him a bit edgy around the Heavy Blade, and therefore Baron was wary of all of his actions, trying not to do anything to draw upon the man’s wrath.

Once the teams were decided, all of the players started shuffling out of the meeting place. The first group to leave was comprised of the Wavemaster (the only one there, for that matter), another male Twin Blade, and Shenmock. The three seemed more suitable as a team than the others, with a pair of melee characters bolstered by a Wavemaster. Baron followed Sidhe as he left the area, since Nemera had designated the blue Long Arm as the group’s leader- or at least, that was how it seemed. The Twin Blade could only assume that Zan was following, though he didn’t look backwards to see. After all, looking around for a supposed teammate would be suspicious, pointing out to anyone watching that something was amiss between the players. Baron tried his hardest to remain calm and relaxed, though he felt awkward trying to be something that he wasn’t. Deception wasn’t one of his strong points, a practice that he had never particularly tried hard to learn. It hadn’t been necessary before.

Strolling along behind Sidhe, Baron wanted to talk to the Long Arm, but wasn’t quite sure what to say. For one thing, the man was mysterious, quiet except for the short speech that he’d given earlier. Baron would give up a rare or two to know what the man was thinking (Not literally, of course- it took him a while to get those rare items, and he wasn’t giving them up for something as common as a thought). But as it was, the Twin Blade didn’t feel like prying, especially with one of the leaders of the Eventide Crescendo. Sidhe and Nemera, and possibly Raquar (though Baron was unsure of that), were the heads of a large group that fought against a real threat to The World, and the players within it. Angering them could prevent Baron from going along with them, and in doing so, prevent him from searching for any information on the Zodiac while on this “Prison Field” that they’d be going to. Considering that it was either an illegal or unknown field, there was a strong chance that the Twin Blade would find what he was searching for. Either way, though, something would be accomplished, and that was the point of Baron’s association with the Eventide Crescendo.

The sound of a flashmail surprised Baron, especially with the state of tension he was in. In the real world, Locke startled easily, and dropped his controller, causing his character to freeze for a minute. Quickly retrieving it, and hoping that no one found his momentary pause suspicious, Baron continued alongside Sidhe, wondering who could be sending him a flashmail at a time like this. He quickly opened his inbox and checked, noting that the message was from the Pawn Shop. Curious about why they’d be sending him a flashmail, the Twin Blade opened the message and scanned over it’s contents:

Baron had to grin at the bout of good luck. He was worried that he was short of items for the field that he was going to with the Eventide Crescendo, but it seemed that some of the stress of the situation had been relieved by the unexpected gift. The items, and especially the Resurrects, would be useful in the field to come. In the Prison field, there was a good chance of dying, since Baron had no idea what would or even could happen, so it was best to be prepared. Hence his own shopping before the meeting, getting about ten more Resurrects himself. Until he got another handful of levels, he wouldn’t be able to cast Rip Maen, the spell used for resurrecting others. But that would come in due time.

After his new items were carefully tucked away in his inventory, Baron continued after Sidhe. The team of players had finally exited the twisting maze that made up the alleyway, and the male Twin Blade had never been happier. He had lost all sense of direction in the back streets, and Baron hated not knowing where he was. It unnerved him, made him feel trapped. But once they were out into the main area of Mac Anu, Baron felt his confidence renew itself, and his step felt a bit lighter. After all, if he was suspected of doing anything wrong, he knew where he was and where to run- it wouldn’t be hard to escape any pursuit that was using normal means. Now, for administrators and such, it would be tricky, but if he was lucky, Baron would be in a field in the Theta Server, while any pursuers would be left searching in the wrong area. Or at least, that seemed to be the plan that Nemera had laid out.

Baron almost froze up when a nearby knight glanced his way with a glare that sent the Twin Blade’s blood to freezing. It was harder than ever to maintain his posture, especially since the knight seemed to be suspicious of him. It was all he could do to continue walking casually, almost with a nonchalant appearance. If Sidhe hadn’t been keeping his cool in front, Baron would have broken and ran by then. But the Long Arm was the perfect symbol of calm, striding along towards the Chaos Gate as if nothing beyond the ordinary was happening. Baron forced a bored yawn, as if he were just another player out on another quest. It didn’t feel convincing, but it seemed to be enough for the knight, who turned away to examine other players. The Twin Blade almost breathed a sigh of relief as he continued, glad that he had passed scrutiny. The group continued walking towards the plaza, where the blue-and-gold Chaos Gate floated, awaiting players who traveled between the Root Towns and the fields in The World.

Upon arriving at the Chaos Gate, Baron waited for the transporting rings that would take him and the rest of the group to whatever field that they were going to. The male Twin Blade wasn’t given a set of keywords for an Area, so he had to assume that either Sidhe or Nemera had it. That, or there was another way that they’d be reaching the field. Whatever method they were using, Baron hoped that they’d be using soon. There were still knights prowling about, and while they hadn’t recognized Baron, or given any sign that they were after him, the Twin Blade was still on edge. After all, one wrong move, and they’d be caught. And if the administration got his account information, then he’d be in trouble for sure. His account, his character- all could be deleted, and then the Zodiac would be allowed to complete whatever plans they had without an enemy agent to destroy them.

Another flashmail sound jarred Baron out of his contemplation, and he looked up in annoyance. The first had been nice, of course, since it had contained a set of items and equipment that would surely find some use in the field that they’d be going to, but if this new message contained another Event reminder, he was going to tear his hair out. Other things did come first. It was directed towards “the Eventide Crescendo and Company,” and Baron thought that it’d contain more information… But once he saw the name of the sender and the subject, a shiver ran up his spine. The word “CAREFUL” set Baron to scanning the flashmail quickly in order to get a full understanding of what had gone wrong. The first thing that he found was the answer to his curiosity, in the phrase “collective identity obfuscation.” If it weren’t for the fact that Locke, IRL, excelled in vocabulary, the words would have completely eluded him. It seemed that this “Gyl” had hidden their identities somehow, though Baron wasn’t sure just how, and now that protection had to fade while the mysterious man at the other end of the flashmail worked to get them into the field.

Naturally, as soon as the protection faded, the nearest knights turned and caught sight of the players gathering around the Chaos Gate. With various cries and obscenities, they charged forward, at least two squadrons of knights with various weapons being drawn. Nemera, not far off, took point and ran forward with her broadsword drawn, followed by Sekai, Zan, and the blue-robed Wavemaster. Baron took the moment as the Wavemaster ran by to identify him, now that he had a chance, and found it to be “Takua.” He filed the information away for future use, before drawing his Dante’s Blades from their sheaths and charging into battle himself. With a random battle-cry (he wasn’t sure why, but it seemed appropriate at the time), he threw himself at the enemy and began sweeping out with his blades.

The first two knights to approach him were a Blademaster and a Wavemaster, the former charging forward while his partner stood back, ready to use magic to keep Baron busy. Unfortunately for them, the Twin Blade had other plans. Instead of locking blades with the Blademaster, as might have been expected, Baron leapt straight upwards and flipped, using his hands to vault off of the Blademaster’s shoulders. A second later, he landed in front of the Wavemaster while his companion was still turning. With a sweep of his foot, Baron sent the magic-user crashing to the ground, before switching over to his Yosetu and Fuyou weapons. The new weapons, while lacking in the field of offensive skills, had two new magical options available for usage, both being tornado-type, but nonetheless useful against a charging Blademaster. With a slight gesture for effect, Baron used both of them.

Two tornadoes of energy, one made from fire while the other was a mass of swirling ice, erupted beneath the Blademaster’s feet and stopped him where he stood. Between the Rue Rom and Vak Rom spells, the knight’s HP dropped considerably, and he was soon silenced as Baron dashed forward, getting directly in his face. Two quick flashes of light were the last thing he saw before his throat was cut, blood spurting out in a splash. A final kick to the stomach sent the Blademaster falling into the nearby river, where he faded away quickly.

Baron froze for a second, considering what he had just done. For one thing, he had just attacked one of the knights who were enforcers of The World’s rules. That marked him as criminal or some such thing- not a good idea, on his part. If he was considered a deviant of sorts among the players of The World, he could get his account suspended… that was, assuming he got caught. But with his ties to the whole Zodiac mission, Baron couldn’t afford to even risk it, so he had to be quick and efficient with his kills. If they glimpsed his face, or his character name, he could be on a one-way track to losing everything he’d worked for.

The Wavemaster was beginning to get to his feet, but Baron quickly ran after him, a GiRue Kruz from his new Dominic Fur armor preceding him. Huge shards of ice flew through the air to impale the knight through various parts of his body, whether it was in his head, arms, legs, or torso. Regardless, a large amount of HP vanished from the assault, and it gave Baron the chance to close the gap between himself and the Wavemaster. The Twin Blade’s weapons switched back to the Dante’s Blades, and two quick slices brought the knight to his knees. One last stab to the back caused the Wavemaster’s character data to vanish, but Baron didn’t notice. He turned back to the Chaos Gate, wondering why the transportation between areas was taking so long. The message had said that Gyl was having a hard time hacking into the area, but still… Baron was starting to get worried.

A small drop in his HP and being thrown forward from the force of an attack were the only indications that a knight had come up behind Baron for a sneak attack. Turning, the Twin Blade caught sight of a Heavy Blade holding his broadsword up, blood from Baron’s back glistening across the blade. The knight grinned at being able to damage Baron, but the Twin Blade was only imagining what it could have been like if he could actually feel damage being dealt. That slash seemed to be near the spinal area, and either would have sliced through some nerves to disable Baron or come awfully close otherwise. That simply annoyed the Twin Blade, who ran forward with his Dante’s Blades, both of them sheathed in darkness.

“Twin Darkness!”

Leaping and twisting in the air, Baron slashed his Ani-wrapped blades through the knight’s body, leaving a large spiral of black lines through the man. The Heavy Blade dropped his weapon as both his arms were sliced clean through. Baron landed to slice out with his blades twice, cutting a dark “X” through the knight’s torso. Another jumping spiral caused the remainder of the man’s HP to vanish, dropping the Heavy Blade to the ground and finishing him off. However, it wasn’t fast enough to avoid another knight’s attention- this one was a Long Arm. Baron was starting to feel pressed by the many knights that were starting to get in his face. But it was unavoidable- the Eventide Crescendo and the new members of the group were labeled “cyber terrorists” now, so it was only inevitable that they’d be rushed in force.

Baron ducked under a sweep of the Long Arm’s lance, and then rolled to the side as the weapon slammed down to the ground. He leapt over a third, but was surprised by the sudden turn of the spear that caught him in midair. The Twin Blade was thrown on his back from the sudden swipe, but turned it into a roll that got him back on his feet in a hurry. Running forward, he dodged a thrust of the spear before literally tackling the knight. While he was atop the knight, Baron stabbed his Dante’s Blades down into the Long Arm’s chest. A quick twist finished him off, and the knight vanished quickly, dissolving without leaving a ghost behind. But two more took his place, both Twin Blades, and Baron was forced to back away. He would have cast Repth had it not been for his shortage of SP, so all he could do was retreat.

His back hit the wall.

Realizing that he was trapped against the wall, with no way out, Baron held his blades defensively, noticing that things were starting to look bad- at least, for him. Grimacing at his idiocy in wasting all of his SP between the Twin Darkness skill and his GiRue Kruz spell. He was literally at zero… well, one or two SP due to regeneration, but the point remained the same. His SP was completely tapped out, forcing the Twin Blade to rely on items and physical attacks. And against two Twin Blades, who had his speed as well, those two assets weren’t much help. Baron resigned himself to a difficult battle, and prepared to request some assistance from the others, when the streets of Mac Anu vanished around him, and three rings of golden light escorted him to a new location.

A forest setting unfolded around Baron, sunlight filtering through the trees in a brilliant shade of emerald green. Sounds floated through the trees, from the causal songbird to the rustling of leaves. The Twin Blade shook his head, wondering if the disorientation from the sudden transport had addled his thoughts somewhat. It was too serene, too calm to contain all of the horrible things that Raquar had warned the group about. And yet… appearances could be deceiving. Baron was willing to believe that the beautiful forest around him had within its embrace a dark secret that no ordinary player would have stumbled across. Such secrets did indeed exist in the game, as the Twin Blade knew himself from his last quest. The Zodiac, for example, had gone unnoticed throughout the entire game, though they had been present for who knew how long. Or that level two field where he had encountered a level ten Red Wyrm…

Suddenly, a thought struck Baron. The unusual occurrence registered in his mind, and he immediately wondered if he had overlooked the obvious. Was it possible? Could the field he had followed on a rumor truly contain one of the Zodiac he had been looking for? It was worth a shot. Of course, now wasn’t the best time to go pursue that lead- for several reasons. The first and foremost was that he was already occupied with helping the Eventide Crescendo, and wasn’t going to back out now. The second was that the administration could still be after him, so the Twin Blade couldn’t really afford to turn back, especially if they saw him. Baron was stuck in the field either way, so all that was left to do was see what happened.

Closing his eyes as he tried to think, Baron’s ears caught the sound of something approaching. The noise was getting louder by the second, and the Twin Blade thought that he heard something like hoof beats coming his way, along with a myriad of other sounds, but the hooves were the loudest. That in itself was odd- beyond the cow-like Grunties, Baron had never seen nor heard of a creature with hooves. It was possible that there was a monster with hooves, true, since the treasure hunter had not seen everything the game had to offer. Also, in a place like this, anything seemed to be possible. Baron unconsciously kept his Dante’s Blades out, but left his SP to recover on its own. He could fight with his blades for the time being. However, as the sound came even closer, Baron’s posture was a bit more tense, as if he were a spring coiled too tightly. He opened his eyes again, having determined the general direction of the approaching force.

So much for a pleasant setting…

From his vantage point against the wall, he had made sure that he could see everything that was going on. Perhaps more important than that though, the Wavemaster was able to observe all of the people that would be going with them. Since nobody had run out of the corner of Mac Anu that they were in, blindly panicking, that meant that these would be his allies and helpers on this field. He knew a few of them, Nemera, Sidhe, Sekai and Kira. Those were the ones that he had expected to be on this field after he had negotiated with the leader of the Eventides to have Sekai accompany them. He wasn’t surprised anymore to see Kira in a solid form, even if you couldn’t have understood her name from whatever program Gyl had put on them. At least, he thought it was the elusive hacker. There were parts of his own outfit that didn’t work, and none of the names were correct for any of the people that he was targeting. Whatever it was, it had obviously worked to prevent their detection so far by the Knights of War.

There was a Long Arm in an outfit that might have been white, were it not for the hacking that was, at times, preventing him from seeing the true colors. He was a Long Arm for sure, probably moderately powerful, but certainly weaker than himself, and by extension Sekai, Zan, Nemera and Sidhe. At a sheer guess from the names that were supplied to him, and a little judicious checking of the clan that he was in, it was evident that the only Long Arm yet to be named was Shenmock. He silently thanked that he had gone over the roster and classes of people in the Army a little while ago, making sure that he had memorized every name and associated class. Levels, of course, fluctuated, so that didn’t help him any, and as such he hadn’t paid attention to that.

His eyes checked out the next one, observing the Twin Blade weapons stuck to his side. A pitch-black jacket overlaid a silver colored shirt, the zodiacal symbol for Libra on his shirt with a strange brown color that contrasted nicely with the silver. The weapons at his sides denoted that he was only slightly lower in level than the Wavemaster, possibly higher than Shenmock. He would have said that it was Baron but for the small possibility that it was Exangelus. That man was the only person who wasn’t in the AoD, and the only person out of the new recruits who wasn’t under his command. At least, not under the AoD power structure. Experience wise, he held seniority over everyone but Sekai, Nemera, Sidhe, and probably Zan. Merely because he was so much more powerful, and had been ensnared by the war against the Elites for so much longer.

The other Twin Blade was looking around uncomfortably with dark steel-like eyes. Only a few hints of black spotted there, but he had the air as if he didn’t belong. But, considering that he was the only person who wasn’t in the Army of Darkness, he would feel like that. Perhaps like most of the players of The World, he was wearing mostly black, but he was also around the same level as the other one. Leather was in quite an abundance, just as he wore all cloth. It made sense for their respective classes to wear their substances as clothing, so that wasn’t unusual. On his left hand there was a ring that looked as if it belonged there somehow. Perhaps it was an alteration to his character data? Also likely was that this was Exangelus, merely from the fact that he was so uncomfortable. Apart from Sidhe and Nemera, he was the only person not in the Army.

Which brought him to the last person. Talal. He knew her level wasn’t the highest, it might even be the lowest out of all the people there, but she could fight at least. Oh, sure, there were things that she would need to improve on to survive here. It wasn’t to sound elitist, but every one of these recruits would need to drastically improve their skills, sharpen ones that they already have, or develop new ones. The entire time that he went through Gan, he couldn’t think of a time that he stopped making strategies, thinking about what would make him more efficient at killing things and keeping the highly realistic enemies away from him. The Children of Eden and Dark Fathers were prime examples of that. Using one of the black colossi to shred the other’s armor and health had been a move that was needed, destroying most of its health in one strike and allowing the rest to decimate it. The Children…you needed strength, speed, agility, and accuracy just to be able to kill one, let alone three hundred of the things. The last battle against Sprouce he wasn’t clear on anymore, and the mere memory caused him to quiver lightly as the ghosts begin his eyes flitted closer to the surface.

Although he was better, healed more in his mind than he had been before, he was still vulnerable. That much was clearly shown as he continued his inspection of everyone that was there, wondering how each of them would react. What horrors this field would visit upon their psyches. His gaze flicked momentarily to Sekai, his eyes softening as he tried to comprehend what she had gone through in Vak. Raquar had hated it, and told him a little bit about it, but he didn’t actually know what she had gone through. Zan…he wasn’t sure what Zan had gone through, but something that he knew was that the man had a special ability. Watching him go flying up the wall using on his hands and feet, and leaving strange…marks on the building had convinced him of that. Both Nemera and Sidhe could do something special, Raquar could make orbs of darkness, did Zan have something else to do as well? Did Sekai, who was in the same position, have a special ability that marked her apart from the normal operations of The World?

Either way, someone who seemed…familiar with the Heavy Blade was shortly in the way of his vision if he wanted to look at the marks. To be perfectly honest, Takua was confused by who this was. He didn’t recognize the human that he saw in front of him, but by the look that he had, he was meant to be there. A companion of some kind for Zan? Whoever he was, he looked tough enough. His gaze wandered back to Talal, and his eyes hardened. The woman had found the group, just like Takua had expected that she would, but Centrus’ message bothered him. He said that he was sending a gift to him…and that was female. Takua knew that he couldn’t be talking about Sekai, or Kira, which left Talal. Following that chain of logic, the bastard had told her where to post and what the name of the group was. It wasn’t that he had a particularly good reason for wanting her out, only that he didn’t want her touched or comatosed. Just because she was someone that he knew who wasn’t involved in the madness that he had immersed himself in.

Snarling softly, he closed his eyes for a moment and thought. Centrus did send her, the lovable bastard. There was a small chance that he was in the city at the moment and could give an account of what the fucking hell happened that made him give her the name and such. Bringing back up his flashmail, he started typing out his message even as Nemera started to speak.

While he waited for a response, if there was one, he got up off the wall and walked over to the entrance of the alley. He was incredibly surprised that Nemera had designated him as the leader for two people to follow, and that he was first out. He hadn’t thought that she liked him that much, or trusted him. She hadn’t seen him lead, and it hadn’t been that impressive in the first place, but the Wavemaster did it anyways. With Exangelus falling in behind him, and directly in the position to see his wings, he stopped hiding them so much and let them out. Shimmering wings spread outwards like the angel ones, but made entirely of frigid water and ice. Imbued with the power of Rue, they would fly, ice forming the core of the wing itself while the water and magic allowed the wearer to soar. As he navigated the back alleyways, another ping sounded.

His body was moving on automatic, navigating the alleyways as his fingers flew over the keyboard. His eyes weren’t on the message that he was typing, it was on the people around him and behind him. On the Knights of War that glared at them with hatred. He wondered if they had been discovered, and suppressed a shudder. If they had been, it was a long way to the Chaos Gate, something that would be very difficult to get to. Thankfully though, the same Knight of War that had just been staring at him started to glare at an innocent player, who quailed under the weight of the stare.

He sent it off with a sad smile. There was no guarantee that he could come back alive, and they both knew it. His feet never stopped moving, his senses all looking for a potential threat, his staff hand looking eagerly for the touch that would give him high powered spells and a mean to defend himself. It was only when they had the Chaos Gate in sight, and without having had to fight, that the flashmail pinged. Another one? From whom? Annoyed and slightly perturbed, he opened it up…and found that his annoyance vanished in seconds upon seeing the name and title. Swallowing slightly, he read over the rest of the message and fought back a groan. So close. But this field was under some sort of protection; something that wasn’t that surprising considering that he had deleted the last one in its entirety.

He paused for a moment to consider that while a grim smile. Dirge would have returned to a field that was absolutely deleted, the Incarnation gone, and his, presumably, second in command gone. Given that there was no mention in the news report of anything like what he would imagine Sprouce would have done, it was…a good bet that the mad scientist was dead and awaiting whatever judgment would be passed down to him. With only three Incarnations left to them, every other field would be as tightly locked down as they possibly could be. Especially since it might be obvious as to which one they would go to. That also meant that this field was likely to be one hell of a fight. Maybe it was a good thing that they had so many people coming along.

However, in that moment, everything that had concealed names and clothing vanished. Checking the names of the two mystery Twin Blades, and figuring out that he had it right, he poised himself to start fighting. It happened almost instantly, as the entirety of the Knights looked at the Chaos Gate and saw them. Of the following shouts that roused the entirety of the administration’s force, his favorite was, “Son of a bitch! EVENTIDES.” That didn’t stop him from whipping out his staff, the Treasure Wand, and leveling it at the closest group. Fuck the battle-cry, he didn’t give enough of a shit to even try doing something as cheesy as that. This was simply a defensive battle to give Gyl enough time to get them out of here. A stray thought snuck into his head, from a show that he had never watched but heard enough about. He resisted the impulse to say it, as it wouldn’t have made any sense, and he had enough on his hands.

Still, the thought of saying “Beam me up Scotty” was pretty funny.

Playing off of the thought that strategy might be necessary, he accessed a new spell that he had thanks to a certain rare item that he had found. White light flared from three people, the Ap Do enveloping Sekai, Zan and the Wavemaster who had cast the magic. His avatar suddenly faster and more agile, he eyed his offensive skills, watching as five Knights of War broke off from the main pack and went towards him. From the weapons that they carried, it wasn’t going to be that much of a fight in the first place. A small smirk finding its way onto his lips, his hands tightening as he found the spell he wanted. The larger of the groups became his target, three Knights having kept in a clump instead of spreading out to attack him. One Wavemaster, a Heavy Blade, and a rather scrawny looking Twin Blade. The other two were a Long Arm and a female Blademaster. Perhaps not surprisingly, out of the five, it was the Blademaster who looked the most threatening, a snarl crossing surprisingly beautiful features.

”OrGan Don. BiVak Kruz.”

The two spells went off right after each other. The much larger, and more powerful, Gan spell crashed into the group of three. Three solid, heavy boulders formed above them, hovering in the sky before gravity took hold. Granite and marble rocks slammed into armor and flesh, blood spraying out from the people that he had just hit. The largest of the rocks split the Heavy Blade down the middle, sending both halves toppling onto the street. The other two made it out with critical health, barely staggering towards him as the Wavemaster frantically healed himself. The BiVak Kruz that he had cast formed in a sphere around the Long Arm, fiery balls of impending doom hanging still for just a moment before they swept inwards. Heat trails followed them as the Knight frantically tried to dodge or block them, moving closer the entire time. To his credit, he did managed to dodge two, the rest, another eight or so, sent his charred body to the floor. Perhaps that was because it was a single target spell, and the Don had attempted to slam three different people. Either way, it wouldn’t last much longer.

An evil smile crossed his face as he changed his weapons. The Witch’s Wand had several very useful spells on it, but there was one in particular that would make this a special occasion. Before it even reached his hands though, the Blademaster and Twin Blade were in his face. He backpedaled a bit, trying to get some distance before giving up. Even with the Ap Do, he wanted all three of his opponents in the same place. His thin frame launched itself forward, straight into where his surprised opponents were trying to attack. Throwing himself into a roll, he passed directly under the strike from the Blademaster as it sang over his head. Then one of the weapons from the Twin Blade found its mark in his side just as he got to his feet, charging directly for the Knight in front of him. The enemy Wavemaster look at him, a blue figure bleeding out of the side as his allies tried to get closer, and began to back up and tried to cast a spell. Takua reached out and grabbed the staff, yanking himself forward and spinning around to get behind the enemy. His foot flew out and connected with the back that was presented in front of him.

”Wryneck.”

For a moment, all three of the people in front of him stopped dead. Perhaps they had assumed he hadn’t had that spell? Or maybe it was the shadow dragon that had appeared directly in front of them. Glowing purple eyes smiled malevolently at them, smoke wreathing its mouth and claws as it strode forward. Obsidian black scales shimmered in the sun, but the light didn’t seem to reflect off of it. Only a black pit forever drawing in that which gave them hope. The tail whipped out from behind, curling over its shoulder as it contemplated its newest snack, and then struck. All it had to do was open its mouth for just one moment, and the blast of Ani that issued forth was enough to send all three bodies flying backwards. Of them all, only the Blademaster was able to stand again as the wrym departed. She looked with a horrified and slightly shaken expression as the Wavemaster who was striding forward again, moving closer as he whispered two words.

The Bolt Rod that he had just used glowed with Rai as it interacted with his Stormlore and Thunder Magic. Boosted in power, the Rai Don crashed down on the single surviving member of the Knights that had attacked him. Electricity arced and spat as it connected with the head of the woman who lay on the ground, defiant and unable to surrender. Takua would have let her live, not killed her, had he not seen the glare that foretold more combat. Or the sword that was tightly clenched in her hand as if she wanted to use it against him again and again. What had she been told that made her hate him and their cause so much? Perhaps worse would be when the press got a hold of this one. Attacking administrators in public and slaughtering them.

He strode past the corpse that lay on the ground and returned to the center of the group. He was just looking for his La Repth when he felt the wash of the healing spell flood through him, the caster being Sekai. That thought made him pause for a moment, and a grimace crossed his face. He had just used a Wryneck, against a player, and Sekai was in the vicinity. Sekai hated Ani, and the last time there had been a lot of it, the reaction hadn’t been good at all. Remembering what had happened when she came into a certain field where Sasuke was being help, he gritted his teeth and sighed. It had been a trial run anyways, he didn’t have plans of using that spell much, but now he regretted using it. Granted, it had been a good result, but he’d be using Gan for much of the field, and if not he had Rai and Rue to back him up. If she brought it up, he’d apologize for it, but at the moment, he had to worry about whether or not everything was ready for the next wave. He had gone all out on SP that time, something that he would need to watch again.

However, none of the Knights were charging. Instead, the hung back, and then began to split from the back. As he heard the exclamations of surprise and fealty, he cursed under his breath. Either their commander, or a real administrator of The World. Probably the same one that had posted on the BBS. Wondering where the teleport was, and if they could fight off the person making his way through the ranks, the Wavemaster prepared to take a Mage’s Soul. This wait was doing wonders for his SP, and if they didn’t have to fight, things would be great. It was only when they were about to see who it was, the sun having blocked direct sight, when Gyl finally cracked the security that he needed to get through.

The Wavemaster found himself in a forest that made the mere word “huge” or “gargantuan” seem inadequate. He could take several seconds to simply walk the radius of one of the trees in the area, they were possibly forty feet long. He didn’t even want to know how high they were. The oddest thing was how safe he felt under the trees, something that reminded him of the Gan Incarnation and the armor that he carried with him at all times. There was no reason to be safe though, for beyond the cries of the cicadas and the random hoot of an owl, there was an army that was rapidly approaching them. There was no way that the thunder of hooves and paws could be anything other than an assault by the Highers. The gloom that surrounded the group was only lightened by strange glistening jade light, and the occasional beam of light from the colossal trees overhead.

Takua moved quietly to the center of the group. It would be best if he weren’t on the outside, as one of the weakest armored of the group. He slipped his Gaia’s Staff out and prepared himself.

’Here Elemental Criticals. Here Elemental Criticals.'

-Zan-

The day blazed on before Zan like a stubborn child, forcing his roaming eyes into a squint and placing the beginnings of a headache in the center of his forehead. Though the intentions that had brought him to the rooftops revolved around keeping watch, a sense of vague relaxation had begun to make its way into the Heavy Blade’s bones. From the height he was at, the fear of the unknown and the unseen had been chased away to huddle in a corner. Every sense was peaked and eager to pick up even the slightest hint of danger…and nothing seemed to be happening. The Eventide Crescendo and its new members would be fine as long as they stayed put, an option that Zan was fully aware they wouldn’t take advantage of. Their mission wasn’t to twiddle their thumbs and plot action like stubborn military generals, but to take action like the soldiers in those generals’ wars that so often went unappreciated, that so often were reduced to simple statistics. They weren’t the Elites or the Highers; they didn’t have that kind of laid-back luxury. When Nemera felt it was time to proceed and sift back into the main populace of Mac Anu, the real task would begin. The Lycan was worried about a few of those present, that they wouldn’t be able to blend under the pressure the female leader had placed on their shoulders, but he had no choice but to put his trust in them.

It was all fairly melodramatic, Zan realized. It was only a walk to the Chaos Gate. The real drama should be saved for when they actually entered the field, he knew. Sekai had made the Higher fields out to be atrocious places of terror and psychological pretzel techniques that would reduce even someone as iron-willed and hot-headed as him to tears. Still, even that in noted combination with the potential of the new comers’ potential to fuck everything up, the werewolf was...calm; utterly calm. If the ubiquitous inner tranquility had been slow building, it would have been accepted without question, but Zan felt himself begin to worry, a feeling akin to goosebumps creeping along the surface of his brain. A quick check back and he couldn’t fathom why a lack of overt threats from his senses had settled him down. Usually something like that would have made him even more suspicious. Everyone and their mother knew not to trust quiet in a time of looming, dark possibilities. What was happening to him? Perhaps more accurately: who was happening to him? Trying to force his thoughts into a panic was working on the level of actual formulation, but mustering up the emotion to tag along was proving unbelievably difficult. With mounting intensity, all the lycanthrope wanted to do was let the world go, to slumber and spin his dreams and never wake up. The headache was gone. Though he stood absolutely still, Zan felt as if he was falling into himself, falling into a place buried deeper than blood and flesh…

Snap out of it! Nul’s voice rang in his head like an alarm clock, like the wail of a banshee calling out for the dead.

In that instant, clarity filled the Heavy Blade’s veins like liquid crystal and harsh reality slammed its way back. Everything felt raw. A mental ping of curiosity into what had happened and Zan understood why his partner had done it, how Nul had known. Whatever had tried to take claim of the Lycan’s body had begun to droop Nul against the wall like a rag doll. The then-human Shade, being an individual crafted of data from the beginning, was thus more intimately familiar with how Zan’s worked and was affected. What had happened hadn’t been from without, but within. It wasn’t a thing of distant control (though Zan knew if it was someone like an Elite, even Nul could be fooled), but tampering from someone or something that already existed inside. Thoughts immediately shot to the Plures Vultus Mortis, the Many-Faced Death virus that had initially given Zan mutli-animal panwere abilities but, due to its incomplete status when it had been integrated within him, had almost ended up killing him in the end instead. The theory had one big flaw, however; when Nulus had grafted onto the lycanthrope’s character data, he had destroyed the virus like a super batch of antibiotics. All that was left was a shell of it, a carcass. Had it managed to revive itself?

No. It feels different. For lack of a better way to put this, it feels like you. There was a pause, Nul seeming to search for something better. No, that’s not it either. It feels like us. Like we’re doing it to ourselves.

Zan, for just a second, was confused. Wait. It feels like us? How the hell would we…no, why the hell would- And it hit him. It hit both of them. Oh shit. The Merged. It…fuck. It shouldn’t even be able to be without us fused together. And now, what, now it’s mind is lingering even after we separate?

Nulus, through their link, growled. Like that’s fucking fair. When we become it, we…our minds get subdued or deleted or whatever and we don’t feel like we exist until we’re two again, but it can hang around all the time now? Worse yet, it’s trying to force transformations? Is that what that was?

Zan shrugged on the roof, unseen by Nul but still felt. Could have been. Fuck if I even know what’s going on with us anymore. Let’s just try and put this off until after the field, alright? Just keep tabs on it and mentally shake me if that happens again.

A mutual agreement was crafted and, again, there was silence. Well, physical silence that is. Zan was unable to quell the maelstrom of thoughts and worries that came with the possibility of the Merged birthing a mind that stuck around even after it was desynthesized. The thing was, to put it bluntly, batshit insane with a thirst for violence that made even the Garou blush. It wasn’t something he wanted to linger around his skull gnawing at his subconscious or whatever else it could sink its black teeth into. Just the possibility of it being true had the Heavy Blade uncomfortable in his own skin. There was a sensation of violation, like he had been mugged and beaten, that wouldn’t go away no matter how much he tried to shift his mind to other dimensions of contemplation. It made him want to vomit out everything inside until he was hollow and free. It was something he hadn’t experienced since before he became comfortable with his Beast, with the animal mind that dwelled in duality and symbiosis with his human mind. Recollection was ugly. Still, perched on the edge of the rooftop like a bird of prey and not the wolf he was, the confliction going on under the surface was impossible to see. Zan had long ago perfected the art of the poker face. It was something he often needed to keep from falling apart or going insane.

Nemera’s instructions, ones that placed Zan under the leadership of a sapphire Long Arm and a Twin Blade by the name of Baron, had him hopping down from his post to land without so much as a bend in his knees. He knew that he should have perhaps been more subtle with what he was capable of, but such conscious control of something he was used to simply acting with wasn’t easy to come by. Though he was really, in the end, no better than anyone else present with the Eventide Crescendo, it was still difficult to act like just another Joe. The Beast and all its perks and banes had become a literal second nature. That said, the Lycan’s poker face was again used to make things seem as passive and normal as humanly - the pun excused - possible. Another glance at his party members as they began to carve their way back into more lively parts of Mac Anu had him thinking over just how useful they’d be in an actual fight. Sidhe looked entirely cool, entirely confident and left Zan with some lingering faith in the man. Baron, on the other hand, seemed to have the confidence of someone much stronger than he, something that could become foolish if the wrong situation were to come about. The werewolf, cold blue eyes glistening in a catch of sunlight as he weaved past splintered crates and cracked cobblestone, sent a wayward glance to the Twin Blade that was as much of a warning to keep his head down as it was to keep him in line. Zan wasn’t the leader there, and the look contained a bite of arrogance, but he wouldn’t let anyone put Sekai at risk. Hell, his personal mission dictated that he keep the kid safe as well, at all costs to his own health. Call him selfish, but the lycanthrope hoped that wouldn’t be too often.

The Eventide Crescendo filed into the ranks of normality and shifting bodies with relative success. While it was clear to Zan how nervous some of them were, having been with the Freedom Fighters long enough to learn the ins and outs of basic, empathetic observation, the vast majority of players would have been more or less unaware. When Baron yawned, the overcompensation made the Lycan’s eyes roll. The group already had a few eyes on them and that little move had him suddenly concerned. Who wouldn’t see through such a simpleton ruse? Sadly, or perhaps fortunately, it was enough for the Knights of War and attentions were paid elsewhere. With their names obscured and details of their appearance changed a tad, Zan allowed himself a little ease. It wasn’t much, but it was just the right amount to keep his Beast on its leash. Anxiety always had a tendency to raise his proverbial hackles and such wasn’t something he felt he could afford in a situation as delicate as the one they currently occupied. It was only mere steps away from freedom and to fumble it now would be unnecessary tragedy, like watching your favorite game disk scratch because someone lacks the basic logistic skills to handle it. The second they had exited, however, the Heavy Blade had drawn up his hood. Scars like his, those that marred the strength of his facial features like a spiderweb of cracks in a stone statue, were unnatural in ‘The World.’ Expression-hiding hoods, however, were most definitely not.

As they silently marched, anonymous drones in game of millions, Zan begin to see how drastically the group was from the one led by Nall and Nighthand. The Freedom Fighters were rarely so careful, so eager for precision. Months and years, for some, of struggle had made them jaded and effectively blunt and brute. The Eventides - even those that had just joined - already seemed to adapt with an eerie aptitude. Be it his imagination or something else, the werewolf could almost smell just the slightest difference in the Twilight that resided within them all. Even the virus’s presence in those not trapped in the game (being that it was in every file in the game all the time and only its level of infection separated player from coma patient) seemed…off from the norm. A suddenly over-reactive Lycan almost attributed the sensation to something, for the lack of a better word, spiritual. Did some of Twilight have a moral compass? Were they being helped by the dawn? This, of course, led to more disturbing thoughts.

Did Twilight have a dusk?

That train of thought found itself derailed as a Flashmails ping zipped its way to the front of Zan’s mind like a bee string. The lycanthrope barely had time to finish reading it before the subtle offsets of the Eventide’s character data vanished and a wave of beady eyes jerked to face the amassed players. He suddenly felt like a peace of rot at the heart of a rat colony. The effect upon those he called teammates, if only on a temporary basis, was immediate and fierce. The Knights of War had made intentions known with the hunter’s shield and spear and the EC roared back their lion’s defiance. It was a metaphor for all but him, though the truth of the animal was a hint different. Zan responded to the interjections of the Knights with a ferocious, deep-toned shout that couldn’t have been made with human vocal cords but, somehow, were. Both sets of canines, upper and lower, sharpened to lethal scythes in reflex to his surge of bloodlust. The same second the wave surged forward, Zan was on the mark. Rather than pull out his blade as some might have expected, as most themselves did, he could smell their weakness. The werewolf wasn’t simply going to kill those that crossed his path, he was going to humiliate them.

First upon his bloody portrait was a feeble player of his same class, sword not even raised. Refusing to lose momentum, Zan jerked up his right arm in a counterclockwise clothesline that not only collapsed the soldier’s throat but snapped his neck like kindling and sent him in a rag doll backflip through the air. The Lycan was still in the midst of the circular spin when his hands drew back together in a gesture that would remind most of the classical ‘energy blast’ charge. To others a bit more versed in Oriental martial arts (like Zan and his movies), however, they would have known its real purpose. When the three hundred and sixty degree turn came to completion, the Fist Fighter that the Heavy Blade had seen coming from a bit behind his initial target found Zan’s palms thudding into the meat of her gut with a strength gifted to him by the Beast. To say her body folded inward and ‘rocketed’ back wouldn’t have been far from the visual that unfolded a heartbeat afterward. Her hapless, one-hit-KO’d frame barreled into one of her comrades and sent them both sprawling along the ground like human pretzels. Though he probably should have, the lycanthrope didn’t run over to them to finish off the one caught in the line of fire that still breathed; he walked. The air about him, even as he stopped to pop a kick out to the left and under the jaw of a would-be sneaky Knight, an attack that both turned the man’s vertebrae to powder and flung him to bounce of a wall, was similar to one he might sport when making a simple stop at the Item Shop. Even during the little detour, Zan hadn’t moved his eyes from the forward stab they currently possessed.

Had to make them squirm, writhe…fear him. No. Fear them.

His final arrival upon the downed duo, one finally slouching off the grayed body of the other, was quickly finished. A blurred, invigorated sweep of his combat boot-covered foot across the Knight’s cheek whipped his head around to an angle that no human being was meant to survive. Only a handful remained to oppose him, but already they continued their mistake of attacking him head on. A moronic Long Arm, more brawn - and hardly that - than brain, tried a meek jab forward with his weapon, but Zan was simply too quick for levels as low as the first wave were. One hand planted itself over the top of the spear and used it as a vaulting point to spring himself up in the air and land a drop kick that thundered with a sound that would have made Thor weep. When the Knight landed, obviously dead, it was in a perfect, almost cliché mess of limbs in the perfect center of the city’s largest bridge. He certainly wasn’t the poster child for the Eventide Crescendo’s good qualities. A windmill of his legs propelled the Heavy Blade back to his feet and into the face of a clumsy Blademaster. Didn’t they learn? Literally backhanding the falling weapon from its owners grasp, Zan’s other hand snapped forward to get a firm hold on the player’s lower jaw before he ripped that jaw out.

The Knight of War, unable to interpret the proper response for such a bizarrely random and macabre act of brutality, simply stood there with his tongue flopping uselessly down as the werewolf turned the fractured points of the bone inward and, using it like some kind of claw, punched the jaw into the man’s gut. The relatively merciful impact only bent the Knight forward but, not wanting to lose face, Zan followed it up with a brief lift of his own body into the air and came back down with a crash of his elbow into the man’s spine. It crumbled like a column of hard candy under the force of a sledgehammer. One more down, the last of the Lycan’s potential foes, a Heavy Axemen, approached him from the right with a Skill’s incantation half-bellowed. Needless to say, it never got the chance to finish. A wicked flick of Zan’s boot into that same soldier’s knee folded it backwards in entirely the wrong direction and left its owner slouching forward and into his opponent’s awaiting hands. What followed wasn’t simply a few headbutts, but a series of facesmashes that didn’t stop until the Knight’s expression was a sticky mismatch of skull, skin and muscle that would make Picasso proud.

Zan’s efforts, in combination with those around him, brought the round to an end. Nulus had, apparently, simply remained standing back through it all. It wasn't lazy, but observant; they had needed an eye on the progression of the Knights' advancement that wasn't immersed in the chaos of it all. His approach back to the ranks of the Eventides was done without shame. With his face caked in blood and his clothes splashed with that same crimson, he simply seemed to say, without words, ‘this is who I am; deal.’ The shudder of sound and steel behind him made the Heavy Blade turn to watch the assortment of stalled Knights steadily part for someone behind them. A trick of graphics or simple headcount prevented him from getting a visual, but like the red staining him, the smell could not be denied; power. Whoever was seconds from clashing with the EC had the very likely ability to smother them under the force of his abilities. Before Zan could gather anymore details, however, a forced trio of golden rings swallowed him whole, from server to server, and into the Juk Prison Field. The werewolf, automatically cleaned up in the transport, stared on in awe.

It was paradise.

Trees as big as awe itself towered above him like slumbering giants. Green and rich, hearty soil lay under his boots and, after a quick pull of those boots into his inventory, between his toes. Unable to stop himself, Zan simply closed his eyes to the silent shimmer of the green orbs amidst the net of branches and trees (a net that only allowed in a gloomy, dark green light) and lulled his head back, a painfully broad smile blooming over his face. The smells…oh God the smells. Zan’s Beast was pacing in his chest like the caged animal it was, impulses surging through him that begged to allow the Garou to rip its way into being. This was a place meant for him. Everything from the refreshingly sweet hint of dew to the heavy, strong grounds of the soil filled him with a delight that he was simply unable to process quick enough to stay in control. His human side could feel itself slipping away, could feel the Beast marching to burst forth from his skin, but that all came crashing down when the rancor kick of danger punched its way against his eardrums. Though he should have been thankful for the mental intrusion, the approaching army woke Zan’s logical mind with a demand for retribution. They had taken from him the first moment of solace he had felt since Lowen’s death.

Death would his fists be called; Pain would his kingdom be known.

Nerves were getting the best of her, despite everything inside of her screaming to get a clue, to refuse to submit to that which threatened her from within. Nemera was there, still looking as intimidating as ever in her black armor... but... She couldn't look at the tall Heavyblade. Her gaze dropped from the front, looking off to the side as her chest tightened and her heart sent a jolt of pain through. The semi-transparent form of the Long Arm female rested against her shoulder from behind, fingers squeezing softly in a silent display of comfort, of reassurance and acknowledgment of what the small girl believed she saw in that other woman's profile, in the body language and in the expression she wore on her face like the blade on her back.

That same tired look was starting to appear in Nemera's eyes, the same that had continuously been in Tiral's expression the entire time they'd been in that damn field... so long ago it seemed. Kira's eyes narrowed slightly, her own examination a little different than Sekai's own; where the younger girl saw grief, weariness and something she couldn't quite glean from the small Archer's thoughts... her own notes were somewhat different. Nemera, as... ah... unfavorably as she'd thought of the woman back in the Vak field, had definitely hit some huge as hell change that didn't seem to be clear to anyone but those who'd been in these fucking situations before.

Or to those who'd looked death square in the eye while something important had been ripped from them.

Isn't easy being a leader now is it?

The amber eyed woman thought to herself with a wry twist of her lips at the brief expression on the tall woman's face as Raquar embraced her. The kiss on a cheek earned her a raised eyebrow but no words were spoken otherwise. She'd been forced into Tiral's position; whether she wanted it or not; yeah, there was grief in there still, always would be until they managed to get him out of the hell he'd sacrificed himself to in order to get them ahead. She didn't recognize the Long Arm, though she full well intended to keep an eye on him to monitor his movements and to see how he worked amongst this kind of chaos.

Speaking of chaos.

Sharp eyes observed and fed information to the girl still concerning herself with a leader who'd have to show them all what she was made of in the field, to see if she'd really changed or was putting on one hell of a show for them all. Baron, she remembered the kid from the hot springs, an almost feral looking grin spread across her lips as she caught his glance his way, his embarrassed flush of color into the face and the way he quite blatantly avoided looking again. That might be useful in a less serious circumstance but, her eyes narrowed, from the chat he'd had with her little one, there wasn't much she could tell about how he'd fair in this. A quick glance up and down to size him up didn't give her very much hope, she'd take him out the instant that he started posing a threat to the party or being a liability and take him 'round back and really take a strip out of his hide. If he was immersed in that virus code shit? Even better; and she'd tell him a thing or two after that.

Next one, someone named Exangelus. For a minute and had she not seen his build and the distinct stubble on his face; she damn well may have attacked him for almost resembling a certain unmentionable son of a bitch she had a score to settle with. Another speedy shit, she thought with a frown on her face as she looked from Baron to Exangelus; the latter clearly higher in level and looked as if he may have known that this wasn't a time to jump the bandwagon for shits and giggles. She'd see though, she'd definitely see how he played himself and where his strengths would lie in battle... and just how badly he was going to get himself fucked over when the real danger showed up.

Shenmock, a Long Arm like herself, like Raquar- who was currently giving some sort of speech again, and like what was his name, she couldn't make it out at the moment. Young. She thought to herself with a slight shake of her head. He'd be toasted in the events to come, Sekai's silent agreement mixed in with determination to help filtering in as she sent that thought to her. Something was just... shiny on him, she didn't know why and she couldn't pin point it exactly.

He's like... one of those baby Grunties who follow you around and shit.

There we go, that was a fairly accurate description in her mind, just hope she wouldn't have to feed the kid to get him to grow up and have the strength to make it through this field as relatively unmarred and psychologically intact as possible after one of these fucking things.

Takua was there, as expected and discussed prior to everything, kid looked a little more stable than the last time she'd encountered him. How long that would last, was really entirely up to what this field would bring. As it would really depend on their own inner reserves of strength and will power to keep themselves and each other sane.

Another female had joined, what the freaking hell was with the sudden surge of the speedy shit, and stood there. She was an interesting one to try and read, Kira thought to herself with a slight tilt of her head. Dressed in yellow and black, long hair pulled into a braid for easy combat. Something about her almost reminded her a little bit of Sekai back in the days of old; when the girl had still looked like a little newbie because of how she'd dressed, diverting only a little off of the basic character designs. Wonder how she'd do in this situation, looks pretty disgruntled, probably getting warned off by that one over there via flashmail, Kira thought to herself and looked between the Wavemaster and the female Twin Blade with a critical eye.

Sekai, on the other hand, was busy trying to see if she could see the others' most powerful trait within their hearts... unfortunately, trying to look into the eyes of someone who wasn't one you knew very well... it just didn't work. Sighing a little to herself in disappointment and resigning to the fact that she would have to learn as the field would progress, the white haired Archer looked back up at Nemera, heart still aching from the grief, from the loss of someone she loved so dearly, shadowing her scarlet eyes. Everyone here had some sort of injury on their heart, some sort of shadow that would follow them regardless of how brightly lit the area was, a chill that would not vanish from their bones even in the most kind sunlight and warmth to be given.

Everyone's hearts were in the middle of a chaotic storm, one that drew other hearts in a similar state of being together, to create a tie that would bind together to make them strong.

Separation wasn't Sekai's idea of, well, a good idea. An anxiety filled glance went from where Zan had gone, took her a moment before instinct said high ground and looked up to see him keeping watch from above. With Nemera in the lead and a small pause between the unfamiliar Twin Blade female and herself, Sekai brought up the rear of the trio, err... whatever the term for a fourth person was called if, by technicality, Kira could be called the rear guard out of the four of them. The air was too quiet, eerie and just plain uncomfortable as Sekai and Kira sent impressions back and forth, testing out how well the other could figure out what kind of information was being sent without words and just either by a flash of images or from pure, unbridled emotion alone.

Knights of War?

Sekai'd been about ready to open her mouth, to ask a question of just who the Knights of War were and if they were someone that she should know about.... right as a collective series of shouts echoed from all over the city as they made their way to the Chaos Gate and prepare for the warp to the field. Danger just wasn't in this world, she thought to herself as her stomach turned into ice, dread climbing up her throat as footsteps, of metal clanking against wood and shouts of war, of excitement and of rage filled the air. Desperately finishing up a warning to the other member of the Eventide Crescendo that she'd never had the opportunity to meet, Sekai's head jerked up to hear the roar of Nemera's blade, of soldiers scattering as if tossed about by a sudden typhoon burst of wind that sliced at their flesh and ghosted their characters.

'...does Nemera-san have a kamaitachi in her blade?'

Sekai!

Kira's shout of warning came in time for the girl to yelp and throw herself off to one side in time to avoid the axe that barely missed cleaving her shoulder in two... or if his level was low, at least cracking her collar bone as a result. Golden eyes wide with fear and shock, she stared up into the hatred filled eyes as the man seemed to scan her body for a moment, disgust filtering in his features as he swore and spoke in a voice that was most decidedly disagreeable with her.

“Fuck me, the Eventides have shown up.”

She dodged as he made a grab for her, thankful her level seemed to surpass his by quite a bit and backtracked hastily... after shaking a finger at him and chiding him in the manner any older Japanese woman would have done, or at least a girl who'd damn near had the very definition of 'manners' and 'polite' beaten into her from day one.

“Don't curse, it isn't becoming and it will not gain you any points with your superiors or anyone you wish to impress!”

The axe was thrown at her in retaliation, his face beet purple from being scolded by an upstart of a little bitch breaking his company's rules. Ducking beneath the weapon and thanking her lucky stars she was about, oh, a foot and a half shorter than her opponent, Sekai turned heel and bolted, short hair flashing red and gold in the waning sunset over the city and glanced over her shoulder to see the pursuers on her heel. Grabbing a flask of Burning Oil and one of the fire based scrolls, she rapidly rolled the latter as small a tube as it would roll into and stuck it into the bottle before dropping it behind her. Once at the Chaos Gate and gathered with as many people were there, she removed her bow and fired, using one of her level one fire skills as an Archer to explode the flask into a wall of flame that caught some of the wave coming after them and sent them cursing for the river before dying out.

Shaking as some of them ghosted from being either nicked by the arrow or caught where the heart of the attack had exploded from the Oil and fire scroll, Sekai tensed, sounding off a light cry of “La Repth” to heal any damage that had been done to the party as a whole as the blue light washed over them all.

Steel parted and people began whispering, fear permeating the air as a slow, dread filled finger of cold ran leisurely down her spine and wrapped its icy claws around her heart. Sekai had been busy doing a head count, relieved that everyone was there and accounted for when the feeling hit her, danger, her heart whispered with a violent tremble. The same, no, not the same, but similar kind of fear, of danger and power that came with that who's name she would not speak of, lest he arrive before her and wipe them all out. Slowly she turned around, an unforgiving wind whipping through the small closed area as someone was coming.

No, they were coming, advancing slowly, steadily and with a malice that was starting to eat away at her nerves like a nail in coca-cola.

'Who... who is that coming here?'

Gyl managed, the rings forcing them out as she tried to find a hint of who this person was, and only got the feeling of hatred, of fury of their escape that lingered even in the momentary white light that signaled a transportation to another area. Sekai could only hope that her message had been received and that he was taking care of himself. Eyes closed tightly, she felt her legs give way beneath her as they reappeared on solid land, falling into... loamy, mossy soil with a texture so rich that she could feel it in every breath she breathed.

Her eyes opened, forced to readjust to the dim lighting with will o' wisps in a hauntingly beautiful soft green and slants of darker colored light from the thick canopy above. The dark surroundings suddenly blurred, watering and wavering before her eyes as she closed them again, fingers digging deeply into the soil as if she were trying to bring that richness into herself, to bring the strength she could feel from where she lay into her heart and soul. Something opened its arms from within her, embraced the air around, the sharp, clean smell that she'd missed for so very very long, as if she'd been away and unable to return until just that moment. The jewel on her glove shimmered, glowing softly as the Wood Magic accessory welcomed the elemental energy around it, expressing that which the girl with silent tears rolling down her cheeks was unable to explain.

Trees, no, Sekai told herself immediately. These were not trees; these were those who gave birth to the trees, the Gods of them. Sadness, happiness, joy and despair all warred within the place. A forest of shadows but a forest of light at the same time. Now that she had managed to calm herself down a little, the feeling of being safe, of being home now settled in her mind, she could begin to feel the offness of the place, of a taint that shouldn't be in this sacred place. She breathed deeply, inhaling the scent, wondering just how much more intense that Zan was feeling this place, of how he and... what had he called it, his... um, Beast? Yes, that sounded corrected, how Zan and his Beast were reacting to such an area. An all too chilly hand brushed against her face, like it was trying to freeze her tears as they were on her cheeks as she looked up into the concerned face of Kira.

Earthy rich and woodsy, a smell that couldn't be named, couldn't be connected to anything in particular except for the word 'home'. If there were a time she were ejected from this place, from this world... she would have to go searching, searching for a place that would even give her a quarter of the comfort, of the safety and welcome that this place had, for an instant, given her.

“I'm okay, I'm sorry to have worried you.”

Her voice was soft, hushed and held a soft reverence as she stared in awe at the world around her, hand gently touching Kira's where it lie against the ground and wiped her tears with a dirty hand. Kira couldn't help but chuckle, she had dirt streaks on her cheeks and a smile that she'd never shown before on her face as she continued examining the surroundings. Vibrations against her hand alerted her to something, the air around her swirling and chaotic as she bit her lip and pushed herself away from the forest floor's embrace.

She needed to take her place with the others.

Her fingertips explored the bark of one of the trees, closing her eyes as she leaned against it, listening for the quiet thrum of a forest's life beat against her hand despite the distinct lack of sound coming from it.

This place was alive, she knew it, she could feel it.

With the vibrations growing stronger, closer and starting to shake the twigs, leaves and bits of foliage on the ground against her feet, Sekai moved quietly, as if still in a dream she was living through her senses and silently placed herself next to the lycan, the unfamiliar word stumbling around in her mind clumsily, like a small cub trying to run before it had even learned how to walk, with a soft smile in her eyes that betrayed the serious expression on her face. Hell, the girl was glowing with a strength, with health and an inner energy that hadn't been there for a long, long time because of this place.

With the oncoming army, be the enemy or be they a potential ally, Sekai knew she was in the place she belonged; at the side of those who continuously battled that which those like Talal-san, like Exangelus-san, like Baron-san and Shenmock-san were so blissfully unaware of. The serenity in the girl's aura was almost too surprising for words, Kira thought to herself as she studied the girl and the feeling of peace even she was getting from their link, as if some kind of balm was soothing the wounds inside them both, repairing them and making them whole for the first time in so long. The fury brimming in Zan's eyes was something else, the AI thought to herself with a frown, hell hath no fury like Paradise disturbed apparently.

This place, Kira thought to herself, was softly soothing the wounds on her little one's heart and soul, reminding the girl of a bond with the element she hadn't even realized she'd instinctively chosen, soothing them little by little and easing their guards down if they weren't careful.

Because as soon as those wounds were healed, and the heart ready to open up, to chance being vulnerable again...

Amber eyes flared in the darkness, narrowing as she slid into place beside Sekai.

This field was going to tear them right the fuck apart all over again.

Standing there quietly while the rest of the gathered group mingled or asked questions of the Long Arm, she watched. It seemed like everyone here knew at least one other person, if perhaps not more; all except one. At this point she didn’t attempt to tag him figuring the name that would show up would be incorrect. There would be time for that later. The unknown Twin Blade by the looks of him, stood there listening and watching much the same as she. Utilizing what time she had for the moment, the young girl peered around the group, taking it all in. It really was nothing more than a glance at any one of the players that had collected, and if anyone was giving her more than the same, she hadn’t noticed.

Not being one for socializing in strange crowds, but on the same note preferring the company of familiar faces, she was considering wandering over to stand with Baron or Shenmock. Indecision getting the best of her currently, she stayed put by the wall, an odd notion striking her. Compared to everyone else here in their, what she felt at least to be, well designed outfits, the female Twin Blade was, for lack of a better term…underdressed. Her simple form fitting two piece outfit was originally chosen to provide ease of movement during battle. Something she felt a player of her class would need, not taking into consideration at the time that this was a game. That was her typical approach however, always over thinking even the smallest of details. Her pale yellow top that hugged her body well, leaving a small gap of noticeable lightly tanned skin at her waist, coupled with her black pants that stopped at just below the calf of the leg, would have been a perfect outfit to wear to a fight in the real world. Her long white sash was more decorative than useful other than the carefully tied special knots that held the invisible sheaths to her blades and a small items pouch. Truthfully by outward appearances, Talal did not possess that defined look of someone worth taking the time to notice. She was just an overly ordinary looking player and for now, that would suit her just fine.

Her eyes wondered about the small crowd, her mind busy contemplating changing her look in the near future. She wasn’t trying to make light of the seriousness nature of the current situation, but rather keep herself calm hoping her nerves weren’t showing through like a gigantic light bulb behind a white cloth. Staying on her off beat path of thought, a noticeable trait amongst the group began to form. With the minor exception of perhaps two players, what was with everyone being so gosh darn tall. A glance in a certain individual’s direction was followed by the thought that she would practically have to crank her neck good if she wanted to look the trench coat donning man in the face. With that, as if almost on cue those thoughts were aimed his way, the dark haired man seemed to just turn and scale the far wall with perfect ease. Raising her eyebrow just a touch, she watched as the extremely tall and apparently very agile player reached the roof. Recently having taken a liking to escape routes, a heavy desire to follow him developed and then was pushed aside for some rather obvious reasons. This brought her eyes down to the base of the wall where another player stood. He had a casual stance about him as he leaned against the wall. Perhaps he was just trying to blend in, which wasn’t a completely horrible idea all things considered.

The question and answer session was apparently finished and she could only wonder what could possibly be said next. More words and newspaper clippings sent for shock value perhaps. Still clinging to a feeble thread in the back of her mind, was the ever lasting thought of bagging out of this little shindig. That feeble thread however was beginning to break as her eyes fell upon Baron and Shenmock. It was no longer just about being there for the Wavemaster that had still yet to say one word to her as he had so whole-heartedly promised, but there were others there that she had met, that she was now affiliated with through her clan. If nothing else if they decided to go, she would too. Call it her first official duty if you will to the Army of Darkness and to her clansmen. Talal knew she was the lowest level player between the four of them and judging solely on appearances of the rest of the players, the feeling of being way out of her league level wise was really starting to make its presence known to her. What kind of support could she possibly offer such a group? The young girl did not have the slightest possible answer to her own pondered question. Whatever type of support it was however, would be there nonetheless for as long as she could hold out.

A ping sounded in her headset and she could see there was a message. Well speak of the devil. Takua had kept his promise although he apparently decided upon a more private conversation over the original public display he spoke of. That was fine with her except that reading his words robbed her of being able to tell the emotion behind them. The message could be taken a couple of different ways. Having made it perfectly clear that he didn’t want her there, she leaned towards pissed off but not entirely. The last line though, made her feel like if she told him the truth, he would be taking the matter up with Centrus at a later date. That was the last thing she wanted to happen. Her face took on a rather irritated look as she thought about the possibility of Takua jumping all over Centrus because she managed to find the group with his help. If the Wavemaster went back to the BBS before it got deleted, he could have easily figured that out. She quickly typed out a response hoping her words conveyed how she felt.

Having spent way too much time on browsing over the collected membership of the meeting, Talal’s time to contemplate how she was going to approach the woman still standing atop the stack of crates had been stolen when she began to speak. The first words out of her mouth were not really what the girl wanted to hear. Not so much because they were leaving, but because she really wanted to hand off the items she had in her possession and be done with the task. A condition made upon her in trade for information. A mild plan and a point of a finger in the Twin Blade’s direction and she had officially felt the opportunity to bag out disappear. She was part of the group and was going, end of discussion. Obviously now would not be the time to make the exchange, but a quick flashmail would suffice in the interim. That way, the apparent leader of this group would at least be aware such an exchange needed to happen. Pulling up the proper menu, Talal wrote a short note and hit send.

Keeping an eye on Nemera for any non-verbal reaction to having received her message, all Talal could do now was wait for her to decide when that proper time would be. A reply came almost instantly. If Nemera had outwardly reacted in any way to the message, the Twin Blade wasn’t able to catch it. Reading the reply, all she could do was acknowledge that everything that could be done about the exchange at this point was done.

The groups were set into motion in small parties of three. Takua’s group was first to leave with the next not far behind. Then it was her turn to fall in with the other two females of the group. Her minor attempt to show courtesy by waiting for the other two women to lead the way out of the alley, was simply met with a polite but yet stern stare from the very petite silver haired girl that was the other member of her assigned group; the look insisting that Talal go ahead of her, putting her in the middle. Going along with it all, the Twin Blade stepped in front of her and followed Nemera out of the meeting area. They turned and twined their way back through the maze of alley’s riddled with crates, steaming pipes, and shadowed corners that no one in their right mind would visit on the brightest of days.

The trip had not taken quite as long to get back to the main city streets as it had to get to the meeting in the first place, not that it mattered. The three groups made their way as casually as possible into the main flow of traffic. Each group was only mere feet from the next, but far enough to look like separate questing groups. Talal did her best to simply follow along; casually looking about at the passing players as she normally did when making her way through crowds. There was reason to be worried if the Knights of War should happen a double take at one of them, but surely… Her thoughts were halted at the sound of a ping in her headset. Opening the flashmail, she felt her heart skip a beat back in the real world. They weren’t going to make it to the Chaos Gate with the data obscurity intact. She could only hope they wouldn’t have to fight their way out of the city. After all, the entire root town was full of players today and everyone was getting the same odd and suspicious looks.

It only took a few more steps past loosing their digitalized masks before all Hell broke loose. As if they were all wearing the same brightly colored T-shirts with some comedic remark plastered across the chest, the three groups were spotted and became the center of attention instantly as the their data reverted to normal and shouts were let out and from various directions fingers were hoisted and pointed. Just as instantly, the Twin Blade caught the glint of a Heavy Blade next to her. Looking over to see Nemera already lost in battle mode, eyes fixed on the wave of Knights in front of them. With an under her breath ”Shit,” she followed her lead somewhat hesitantly and removed her blades from their hideaway and hoped for the best.

Thoughts began rising quickly about the fact she was now labeled like a wanted criminal. Fighting the authorities would bring her nothing but grief in the future. Then again, why should she care about the authorities? What this group was fighting for was much bigger on the morals and values ladder. Not to mention that whole thing about possibly not returning because she ended up comatose. The only thing left to stop her from fighting was her damn issue with fighting other players. But what exactly would they be fighting in the field? Certainly not game related monsters.

Talal hesitated at first, taking a couple of steps back instead of following forwards to meat the wave of Knights that were converging on the small group. She watched and in a mere matter of seconds, the casually walking questing parties were now engaged in battle in the busiest part of the Aqua Capital. Players everywhere stopped dead in their tracks at the commotion and the sound of weapons being drawn. She couldn’t see everyone in the party now that weapons and fists alike were flying in several different directions. What she did see was a Knight of War coming straight for her. The Blademaster by the looks of him, was charging at full steam.

Her Anshou drawn and ready, she stepped forward to meet him head on. Blades up and crossed she caught his blade with a clang of steel while her right foot swiftly planted itself in his gut, shoving him back. He was thrown off balance a bit from the kick but quickly recovered and headed in for another strike. The mentality of fight now and ask questions later shining through his demeanor. Practically doing the splits, she ducked under his blade and in one fluid motion left two parallel slashes across his midsection. Sweeping her leg around, her foot caught his sending him crashing backwards to the ground, slamming the back of his head, his helmet rolling off to the side.

Following the motion of her leg sweep, pulling back up into a stance, the Twin Blade caught site of another Knight of War out of the corner of her eye. Her blade went down to parry the spear aimed at her, but she wasn’t quite fast enough. The sharp blade grazed her side, not once but twice. The first on the forward motion and the second as it retracted for another strike. Seeing her health bar drop she didn’t need to look down and see the digital blood dripping to the ground. She glared harshly at the Long Arm, twirling her blades as she had come to do quite often during battle. The Knight of War backed up a little when she glared, which confused her a little. He was being hesitant now that she was looking straight at him and moving forward. Talal was not even in the mood to be dealing with someone who was more scared of fighting other players than she was.

”You shouldn’t have grazed me if you didn’t want to fight.”

Out of the blue, she was just plain pissed off at the whole situation. Why had she decided to do this, get mixed up with this group? She muttered off a Gan Don that rained down on the Long Arm, pounding him to the ground. She took the brief moment of the spell doing its thing to him and walked over to the Blademaster she had left lying on the ground, who was now half way back to his feet.

”And you picked a bad day to have dip shit over there as your battle buddy!”

Turning one of her blades, she jabbed him straight through the stomach while the other sliced cleanly across his throat. If one didn’t kill him, the other certainly should.

Glancing back to the Long Arm buried under a pile of very large rocks, it would take him a while to dig himself out. She took the moment to get a status check on the rest of the group, or at least the ones she could spot easily. Takua was letting loose with his spells as per usual as were Shenmock and Baron alike. Targeting the dark haired man from the roof, she now knew his name was Zan. He was not using any weapons at all. Could he possibly be a Fist Fighter? She was still horrible at telling classes of people unless they had a weapon in their hand and hadn’t taken the time to notice anything but his name when she tagged him. Now was not the time to contemplate such things, he was more than handling his own in a very bone bashing way that made her cringe slightly at the few hits she witnessed while watching him.

A bright glare of fire and an explosion that sent several Knights of War into the river snapped her back to attention. A blue hued light surrounded her and her graze wound healed, her health bar restored. Someone must have cast a healing spell in her direction. Turning to find out whom, the Twin Blade found herself just in time to dodge a Heavy Blade from crashing down on top of her. Her adrenaline was still pumping and her mood still not in a happy place; she jammed both blades through the man’s chest. One blade hitting where his heart should be; the other just above his liver. She twisted, stepped back into the Heavy Blade and heaved sending him barreling over her shoulder onto his back. Retracting the Anshou from his chest, she sliced one again across the neck. Today was a day for quick and easy, no time for screwing around.

The Knights of War had stopped approaching. Not to say another wave had not formed in the wake of the first. But they were not advancing…yet. Instead a hum began forming in the back ranks and they began to split like a zipper being undone. Who was coming? Talal walked closer to the other members of the party. She didn’t like the feeling she was getting. Someone of importance or someone of power was approaching. Just as the figure came within eyesight, but just before passing the last line of Knights, the golden rings came down and swept the party away.

Gyl was sure one for odd timing, but any timing that got them out of the root town was a blessing. The field they were transferred to on a first glance could have been considered a paradise field. One that Talal might have marked off on her list of ones to come back and visit for that special place she was searching for. The trees were so tall that she would almost have to lie down on the ground to look up high enough to see their tops. And so big around that you could park a car behind them and still be hidden from view. The ground looked soft; footprints were left where feet had once stood for those who were being jittery and constantly changing their stance.

After marveling in the aura of her current surroundings with the shimmering lights floating around them and the scarce rays of sun shining through the canopy high above, Talal closed her eyes. She listened to the sounds of the forest surrounding them; only to have her senses immediately pick up on what sounded like a garrison of…animals? She couldn’t place the sound other to know that it was a very large group of something. That group was headed right for them. It was no longer a nice place that Talal wanted to revisit, not that she had expected any different. They came to this field to fight the bad guys so obviously it was not going to be filled with peace and tranquility. Jumping at the sound of yet another ping, she opened another flashmail that had been received.

Baron and his wonderful sense of humor, like he was reading her mind upon entering the field. He obviously couldn’t help but give her a bad time. Knowing how she was with fighting other players, he was probably just trying to calm her nerves with a little humor. She just glared at him but managed a quirky smile.

This was definitely not what she had in mind.

-GM-

Though Nemera’s demeanor spoke of calm confidence, her heart was hammering like the approaching footstomps of the stampede. Sound alone told them all that whatever was about to arrive was in no way small in number. Actual strength mattered little when you could swarm your opponent, something the Heavy Blade feared was occurring with each thunderous second. Though each had their own reasons, the co-leader of the Eventide Crescendo could tell they were all tensed for what was to come. A flash of time brought her fear for those she had recruited, a sensation of instantaneous regret filling her veins with slivers of ice, cutting her up inside. Why did she keep doing this to complete strangers? What gave her the right to sucker in innocents into a battle that was too big for them? It wasn’t a war meant for normal players and, though inwardly she knew they were all hardly normal by the glint in their eyes alone, she refused to acknowledge them right then as anything but that. True to herself, a sea of masochism and self-bashing, mounting loathing began to storm around her brain and her core like a hurricane. Nemera was being pulled beneath the waves, sinking into the shame of how close she was becoming to Nall’s behavior when the first emergences of their foes snapped her back into responsibility.

The leather-studded woman hadn’t even remembered drooping her weapon to the ground, but as a literal pulse of green, translucent (much like the orbs spread about) birds erupted from behind the trees and from the branched canopy above, she hoisted it up and prepared to defend what she could. They numbered only about two and a half dozen, but by the continued thud of other things amidst their horrendous screeching, they certainly wouldn’t be the group’s only problems. The monsters, tagged ‘Wildwings’, resembled various birds of prey about three times their normal size with something menacing and undiscernibly off about their construction. One thing Nemera noticed as she hoisted the giant blade back was that, wherever the broken, dark light would hit them that part of their body would seem to simply vanish. It was an idle, unnecessary detail, but it still hit her as odd as her weapon arched its way towards a malformed eagle. When the steel passed through nothing but air and the predator phased harmlessly through her body, the crimson-eyed female wondered if they had been made fools of. The sound of Shenmock crying out behind her as the same bird collided with his body and sent him sprawling across the light mud quickly made Nemera change her tune. The Long Arm’s shout was mimed by Baron, Talal and Exangelus as the same clever tactic was executed upon them, the sly phantasms passing through Takua, Sekai and Zan in the process.

To those who could feel, the sensation of the animals slipping through them would be akin to the sudden panic of drowning that was gone almost as soon as it had appeared. An air of panic seemed to coalesce amongst the group for, before an adjustment to the Wildwings could be made, equally disproportionate, see-through green hounds darted from around the behemoth masses of bark with wicked snarls and snaps of their unnatural maws. These new foes, tagged Wildlings, seemed to take as much amusement in passing through solid objects before striking another as their aerial brethren. The second wave managed to knock the rest of the frazzled Eventides to the ground until the entire party was huddled on their asses in a circle that had backs facing backs. Seemingly pinned, surrounded, the Wild duo circled above like vultures and on the ground like wolves (some actually appearing to be such) but didn’t actually attack. They seemed to be waiting for…something. What that was, Nemera neither knew nor cared to find out. Still, she very well couldn’t risk trying to get up until she had a view of what else the quickly fading day had in store for them. With the light above beginning to grow more and more murky, like an actual rainstorm was near, the Heavy Blade looked to her north where the next disturbance was making its appearance.

Next in the array of opponents were vaguely humanoid, six-foot beings of pure thicket with eyes an unsettling shade of jade and a fitting name; Thicket Creepers. They stood in a line expressionless and silent like pure, unadultered fear. The following batch, next on the line up, were monsters that made Zan and his partner stir for a reason Nemera didn’t particularly care to know about. Hovering, seemingly without feet, they sported tattered black cloaks with gnarled arms of wrinkled, leathery brown flesh capped with overgrown, yellow nails like the classic witch collaborations from early childhood stories. A look at their names pinned them as ‘Flayers.’ Hoods hid their faces and, like the previous individuals, they took their place in the massively growing line ahead. Continuing along in the agenda of revelations were what Nemera initially believed to be gorillas. Closer inspection via squint brought her a quirked brow and a realization that their hide seemed to be made of porcupine-like barbs of a dark, oily green. Their faces also deviated from her expectations, coming across more like hyenas than primates with a tag of ‘Trunca.’ They started the curve in the line, beginning to create a circle of monsters that grew thickly with their own kind behind them.

The increasingly nervous, white-haired leader began to rise to her feet, but the barked, chorus warning of the Wildlings paused her. Nemera still found herself lacking a plan and, because of that, continued to watch things unfold. She just hoped no one in the group would do anything foolish. They had to move on her command; no sooner. Doing so would result in an undoubtedly unavoidable demise. Sure, that may be coming anyway, but at least with her they stood some chance. After all, she had seen her fair share of combat and, in turn, impossible-to-escape situations. The actual hammering of nearing bodies had ceased except for something akin to a horse and another noise she had yet to process in her brain. That said, the earth beneath and around the Eventide Crescendo was beginning to groan and like she knew she loved Tiral, she knew that pain lurked below. In the corner of everyone’s eyes, small figures zipped and bounced, but turning to look at them caught only continued movement in those peripherals. Such movement seemed coupled with a high pitched, almost gremlin-like laughter.

At last, though perhaps the most intimidating to behold, what Nemera just knew was their leader breached the parting circle much like the anonymous figure had in Mac Anu before they had been brought to the current field. Riding a large horse of roaring, emerald-green flames by the apparent name of ‘Gaea’, the rider’s armor (and his very flesh) seemed to be made of the same sturdy bark as the trees around them. Green-humming cracks decorated that armor and seemed to possess a life of its own. The leader’s (a being that the game identified as ‘Saol’) face, like so many of his army, was hidden behind a helmet that sports two sharp, side-curling ram horns and a second pair of bark-crafted horns that curve upward from points only a fraction of space higher than the first set. Two Heavy Blade-sized, seemingly glass-constructed weapons of a forest-green shade were posed in a confident cross over his shoulders within the grasp of his strong hands. Even as he spoke, Nemera was already finishing her plans, a mental Flashmail under construction.

“You are trespassing in the Wild Hunt’s territory. By command of the Highers, I order you to vacate or fall under our might.” For the first time, very human eyes could be seen flaring to life in his helmet, their hue a glow of brown in the midst of the cheesy opening lines. “Oh, who am I kidding? We both know I’m going to kill every last one of you. How long did you believe you could trounce around in my masters’ fields before we stopped pitching in the minors, mm? Simpletons. Sob out your last prayers.”

Too distracted to be afraid of his threats, the moment his arms began to twitch, Nemera hit the ‘send’ on her own message.

Her harsh-language-riddled plan sent out in the ether, she gave them all a moment to read it and leapt to her feet just as Saol’s two weapons were aimed forward in the universal signal of ‘CHARGE.’ Turning away from him, she summoned all of her Twilight strength through her weapon and let go a horizontal slice that rippled out transparent kinetic energy and cleaved down the Wildings that previously blocked Sekai from completing her mission. Whipping back around, staring down Saol in blatant challenge, she tried to ignore the fact that completely overkill, unnecessary reinforcements were coming through the trees behind the horse-mounted son of a bitch.

Seemed the rating of ‘impossible’ had been shifted to ‘AHAHAHAHAHAH NO.’

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

((OOC:

Name: Saol (Sah-ohl), Leader of the Hunt
Level: ??
Element: Juk
Description: Riding a large horse of roaring emerald flames, Gaea, Saol looks to be a knight who's armor (not to mention his very flesh) is made out of sturdy bark. This armor is riddled with pulsing green cracks, something that actually strengthens his defenses. His face is hidden behind a helmet that sports two sharp, side-curling ram horns and a second pair of horns that curves upward from atop that same helmet. Two forest green swords the size of Heavy Blade weapons are wielded in his hands.
Spells: Ola Repth, Suvi Lei, RaJuk Rom, MeJuk Kruz, Juk Zot, Dek Do, Dek Juka, Ap Juka.
Stats: Saol is a hunter to his core. Physical and Magical accuracies are at incredible heights because of it. Though his attacks and evasions are only above average, his defenses make up for it with levels in both.
Abilities:
-Wild's Whisper: Soal's Juk Tolerance cannot be revoked.
-Vigor: For a cost of all his SP, Saol may use his armor to be invincible for twenty seconds. Also, without spending SP, this ability makes it impossible for him to be thrown from Gaea unless he chooses to be.
-Call of the Hunt: Saol can summon any of the dispersed Wild Hunt members directly to his side.
-Dominion: He is able to control the very actions of any monsters near him whenever he wishes to, robbing them of their "free will" to do exactly what he needs.

Name: Will O' Wisps
Level: 1
Element: Juk
Description: Baseball-sized orbs of varying green shades of energy. Usually harmless floaters throughout the field, Saol will often use Dominion to have them collide against you for pings of damage meant to throw you off balance.
Spells: None.
Stats: Really. Fast. Everything else is virtually non-existant.
Abilities: None.

Name: Wildlings and Wildwings
Level: 15
Element: Juk
Description: Wildlings are translucent, Great Dane sized hounds. The only thing that makes them even semi-visible are their various glows with colors amongst the myriad of shades of green. Though they resemble dogs, they look...different somehow. A player will notice this, but not know what it is about them that's different. Wildwings have the same properties, but they resemble birds of prey about three times the size of a bald eagle.
Spells: Juk Rom
Stats: The Wildling/wings are fairly weak in everything but evasions. These rest at moderate levels.
Abilities:
-Sol's Chameleon: Any part of the creature that is struck by light of any kind becomes invisible.
-Phantom Fang: At any time, the Wildlings/wings may become incorporeal. While this prevents damage from landing on them, it also prevents them from landing damage.

Name: Thicket Creepers
Level: 20
Element: Juk
Description: Humanoid figures comprised completely of dense thicket. Eyes are a simple, albeit errie glow of green.
Spells: Juk Rom, Juk Zot, Juk Kruz.
Stats: All of their stats, every single one, is at a comfortable 'moderate.' They're the shocktroopers of the Wild Hunt.
Abilities: None.

Name: Flayers
Level: 20
Element: Juk
Description: Flayers are humanoid creatures sporting tattered, billowing emerald cloaks. Though they can't fly, they do seem to hover, no visible feet touching the ground. Their arms are gnarled, wrinkled brown limbs with fingers capped in overgrown, yellow nails. Should one get a peek within the shadow-draping hood, mummified, distorted and elongated expressions frozen in looks of terror would be revealed with straw strands of grey hair strung about.
Spells: Rig Geam, Ap Corma, Ap Vorma, Ap Torma, Juk Rom, Juk Zot, Juk Kruz, MeJuk Kruz.
Stats: Flayers have impressive Magical Evasion, Attack, Accuracy and Defense, but their physical counterparts are fairly weak.
Abilities:
-Void: This can only be used once every five minutes, no matter which Flayer originally used it. It lasts for thirty seconds and ensures that anyone near any member of the Hunt can't use magic. Elemental skills can still be activated, however.

Name: Trunca
Level: 25
Element: None
Description: Truncas resemble, and move like, oversized gorillas. Their thick, long hair is actually a hide of barbs coated in a venomous sap. The hide is a rich, dark green and their eyes are a crazed shade of hazel.
Spells: None
Stats: Trunca are physically devastating creatures of muscle and might. Magical stats are virtually nonexistant while Physical Evasion and Accuracy are fair and Physical Attack and Defense are built and intimdating.
Abilities:
-Level: By taking a second to aim a strike, a Trunca's fist can deliver a jade glowing blow that's able to crack the earth or split a tree trunk.
-Infect: Forcing an opponent to come in conact with its barbs (usually through a tackle or a simple punch) the Trunca automatically inflict the Poison effect.
-Swarm: Although it lowers their defense for the minute it takes to grow the hide back, Trunca can launch all of their barbs at once as Poison-inducing projectiles. Members of the hunt are immune to the sap and the damage.

Name: Burrow Worm
Level: 30
Element: Juk
Description: Despite the name, the Burrow Worms more closely resemble green, legless centipedes of giant proportions (about the size of a school bus in length and width). Their mouths are circles consisting of three rows of jagged teeth and squirming cilia. Lacking eyes, they're also effectively blind.
Spells: Juk Zot, RaJuk Zot.
Stats: High in Physical Attack and Physical/Magical Defense, the worms are nothing to laugh at. They are, however, clumsy and slow, making their Accuracies and Evasions nearly bottomed out. Magical Attack is fair.
Abilities:
-Sense: Technically, the Burrow Worms 'see' with vibrations, but the fact that they travel in such a huge pack makes this skill useless. Only when dispersed from the majority of the group is this used. This doesn't mean they attack members of the Hunt, however. They have just enough connection to them to avoid such things (most of the time, anyway).
-Sink: Rather than playing to their names (yet again), the Worms don't actually burrow into the ground. They seem to sink and meld with it, able to do so in parts or their whole body. Though it's impossible to hit them (unless you're incredibly lucky) while they're completely submerged, their already feeble aiming is made more so in this state.
-Consume: If any are unfortunate enough to get in the way of a Burrow Worm's maw, they will be eaten. They only have five seconds to break out before they die and ghost instantly. Only strong players (Level 25+) have the small chance to actually free themselves.

The peripheral monsters don’t have info that can be pinned down but know, as the confrontation begins, that everyone (even those running) will get random, small dings to their health without an apparent source and usually followed by the gremlin-like snickering. The things can’t do much damage, but their inability to be assaulted due to their speed and stature makes them a definite annoyance. Sekai, since you can feel, know that you’ll even sometimes feel six-inch somethings (the peripheral monsters) skittering along your back or atop your head (anywhere, really) and digging into you with really tiny claws.

You guys can try and attack Saol if you wish, but know that you can only say what attacks you do. If you actually land anything, you’ll find out in my post. For everything else? Feel free to kill them. This isn’t a quota battle, however. There aren’t a set number of them to kill to end the fight. As the end of the post suggested, they are just going to keep coming. His fight, this round anyway, is about sheer stamina and survival. Monsters will be following those that try and run away with Sekai as well. Mostly, though, Saol will focus the big hitters on those that stay behind. Only Wildwings and Wildlings (and the occasional brutish Trunca) will give chase.

Enjoy!

P.S. I’m changing the missed-rounds rule to a max of three with the fourth being what kicks you out. Makes more numerical sense to me. This, of course, means you only have two left Exangelus. Let’s not make this habbit, eh?

:OOC))

The hoof beats and various other noises were getting closer, and Baron could hear the sounds of claws scraping against the loam floors along with a soft whoosh that reminded the Twin Blade of the flapping of wings. He pulled his Yosetu and Fuyou from their sheaths at his sides, watching warily for anything that could come. In general, wings indicated monsters, even if they were a possible accessory for players to implement. However, unless there was a virtual army (literally or figuratively) of players with the rare accessory, the sound indicated that a large group of winged monsters were approaching. The sound of claws was just icing on the cake, adding on to Baron’s apprehension. Just how many monsters were approaching the scattered group of players?

Baron’s question was soon answered by the first wave of creatures coming into the clearing where the Eventide Crescendo and company were waiting. About thirty or so gigantic birds flew into the area, resembling the rare eagle in appearance though dwarfing the majestic species in size. Each seemed ephemeral, bits of them vanishing as stray beams of sunlight pierced the forest canopy. Wherever the light touched, that part of a bird would vanish. A wing here, a bit of torso there- it was as if the monsters were a part of the sun themselves. With all of the oddities going on so far, Baron wasn’t the least bit surprised with the latest development. An almost automatic targeting of one of the birds labeled it as a “Wildwings,” though that didn’t relate to why the monsters vanished from sight wherever light touched. It at least gave Baron a chance to identify his opponents, and that relaxed him a bit. An enemy with a name was at least that much more familiar.

The other sound that had caught the Twin Blade’s attention, the scraping claws against the ground, was almost upon them as well. Baron braced himself for what could come from the trees, when he heard another rush of air pass nearby. Nemera, the female Heavy Blade of the group, had swung her sword at one of the Wildwings as it flew directly at her. However, to general surprise, the weapon passed through the monster’s body, as if the Wildwing was a spirit no more, no less. However, there was nothing insubstantial about the impact it made as it slammed into Shenmock, throwing the Long Arm backwards and onto the ground. Baron turned to help him when another similar rush of wings caught his attention. Turning, he slashed out with his blades, hoping to catch the Wildwing while it wasn’t insubstantial, but the two shortswords simply flew through the monster’s body without impact. Baron caught the brunt of the Wildwing’s slam in his chest, being thrown back similarly like Shenmock had.

Sliding across the moist surface of the ground, disturbing the fine layer of leaves coating it, the Twin Blade stopped in a visibly uncomfortable position, one arm under him and a leg folded awkwardly. Baron was becoming increasingly grateful for the lack of feeling that the game provided, or he’d be feeling bumps and bruises over a good portion of his body from the impact and fall. His HP had taken a small hit, and while it wasn’t anywhere critical, due to a thoughtful La Repth that Sekai had tossed out near the end of the Mac Anu brawl, but the most painful blow had been to his pride. Not only had he been attacked after an unsuccessful attempt at a counter, but he had landed in a somewhat undignified position. Luck was not on his side that day, or it seemed.

Starting to get up, Baron saw Talal and the other male Twin Blade- whom he was now able to identify as Exangelus- thrown to the ground similarly. But the trouble didn’t stop there. On all sides, a large number of wolves leapt from the trees, some even passing through the various fauna as if enjoying toying with their prey. Another reflexive check tagged them as “Wildlings.” As with the birds, wherever they were hit with sunlight, they completely vanished, so Baron assumed there was a connection between the two. There was something about the wolves, though, that was different, but the Twin Blade couldn’t quite put his finger on it. It was nagging at his curiosity, and naturally, Baron was distracted by whatever subtle difference was present, though his lack of focus vanished when the other Eventides were sent crashing to the ground. Oddly enough, they were left in an almost clichéd back-to-back circle while the Wildwings and Wildlings surrounded them.

Another sound came from the forest surrounding the group of players, crashing through the trees as if a heavy weight was moving quickly as well. Baron still held his blades in his hands, and was on one knee at this point, but he didn’t attack- without knowing what this new unknown threat was, going in blindly would simply be asking for a quick death. The Twin Blade was forced to wait, no matter how much he wanted to charge in and rid the field of at least two or three of the Wildlings, just to let out some of his apprehension in a tangible form. If the threat from the trees was anything like the Wildlings and Wildwings circling the Eventides and their guests, then trouble was certainly on the way.

The new monsters entered the trees like silent golems, the only sound of their entrance evident in their crashing footsteps. They resembled humans, though the similarity was only in their vaguely humanoid shape. Beyond that, nothing else marked them anything besides a monster- they were actually formed of the thicket around them, wood and brush forming the body and extremities. They walked fairly well, since their joints and muscles seemed to be made of more flexible vines that gave them full movement at all times. However, Baron noted that for later- if a muscle was severed, a limb became unusable, so what would happen if a vine was cut? It would be an interesting experiment, and useful if it worked. A check identified these monsters as “Thicket Creepers,” and the name was certainly fitting.

Behind them came monsters that definitely made Baron jumpy, though he had only heard about similar creatures in other fantasy stories. However, being a common enough monster, rendered almost identically between various authors, the mindflayer had a set appearance, and these new monsters fit the bill perfectly. Wrinkled parchment-like skin covered their bony hands, and grotesque yellow nails tipped each gnarled finger. Baron wouldn’t be surprised if an octopus-like face was hidden beneath the hoods that masked their faces. Either way, he hoped that the old descriptions of mindflayers didn’t carry over- having one’s head messed with was no fun, and would make things worse in the game. They were tagged as “Flayers,” which wasn’t really a surprise for Baron.

Finally, one last group of monsters entered the clearing, completing the circle surrounding the Eventides. Almost like a cross between a porcupine and a gorilla, these new enemies were covered with thousands of bristling needles that looked deadly. Baron suspected that the needles were poisoned, as well, since that was often the case with such things. There was no way to tell, besides getting hit by them, and the Twin Blade didn’t really want to take that chance. Poison wasn’t very fun, after all. The gorilla-like monsters were registered as “Trunca.” More and more fun.

Baron finally managed to get up to his feet, though his legs didn’t look like they’d support him for much longer. The odds seemed overwhelming, comparing the monstrous army of various monsters to the ten players in the middle of the mob. Naturally, things looked hopeless, and while Baron wasn’t one to just give up and die, he wasn’t seeing any way to survive against all of the monsters. The only choice was to run, but with the walls of enemies on all sides, that wasn’t a valid option. The Twin Blade gripped his blades and looked around, hoping that anyone else had come up with a plan, because his brain was tapped out at the moment. He spotted a movement among the monsters, and wondered if they were finally charging in to destroy the Eventides and the players accompanying them. However, the ranks of various creatures only parted, and let a single horseman through, clearly the source of the hoof beats that Baron had heard earlier.

Riding atop a horse made of emerald-green flame, almost like a Juk version of a night mare from myth, a large, armored man came towards the group, striding through the army of forest monsters that watched his every move. His armor, which was made of solid wooden bark like the kind on the trees around him, was laden with cracks that glowed with a neon-green glow, and it seemed to pulse with a life force of its own. The rider’s face was hidden by a helmet with four horns emerging from it. Two of them resembled the horns of a ram, one on either side, and the other two were similar, though pointing upwards, generally. The entire image that the man presented was pretty daunting, and Baron couldn’t help but wonder if the man was friend or foe. The latter was much more likely, since the monsters that had attacked before had moved for the mysterious rider. The Twin Blade tightened his grip on his weapons, holding them at ready. Things looked like they were about to get ugly.

The rider, identified as Saol when Baron took the time to target him, stopped at the inside of the circle of monsters. While still unable to see the monster’s eyes, as the rider was facing Nemera, the Twin Blade felt as if every one of his actions were being watched, felt like he was being judged. Saol wasn’t even concerned with him, likely, but Baron couldn’t shake the feeling. All he could do was watch Saol’s movements, and hope that the rider wouldn’t skewer a certain treasure hunter with the two broadswords that hung across his back. While each one was as large as a Heavy Blade’s broadsword, Baron held no doubts as to the fact that Saol could wield each one-handed. The monster, however, seemed more interested in taunting Nemera, and Baron prepared to attack him, even if he’d die in the process. If nothing else, he’d take a chunk out of Saol’s hide.

Suddenly, a quick flashmail interrupted him, and Baron wondered who would be sending a message at such a critical point. Regardless, the Twin Blade read the topic and sender’s name out of curiosity. Both immediately drew his attention, considering that Nemera had sent it. The word “important” probably had something to do with it as well. Scanning over the message quickly, Baron caught two points that he didn’t get- something about a “Gan Incarnation,” though Sidhe had given a basic overview of what an Incarnation was when they were in Mac Anu; and something about a stadium, though that part was addressed to someone named Takua. Glancing around, the Twin Blade finally noted the Wavemaster’s name, which happened to be identical to the one mentioned in the flashmail. By elimination, that made the other male Twin Blade Exangelus. Oh, the joy of knowing whom everyone was, at least by name- it at least allowed Baron to become that much familiar with them.

However, though the message was confusing, the main gist came through- Baron was supposed to run, along with Sekai, Talal, and Shenmock. Nemera was going to clear a path through the scattered creatures (though Baron had no idea how she would do it) and then the four players, as well as Kira, who seemed to be Sekai’s shadow, would break through the ranks and make a break for it. Seemed like the quintet would be looking for some aid, unlikely as that seemed. It appeared that this “Gan Incarnation” had promised help, and Baron and the rest had to go fetch it. He wondered why Exangelus hadn’t been sent with them, instead of Shenmock, since Twin Blades were the fastest class in terms of movement, and would be better suited to escape. Shenmock was a Long Arm, as well, and that class could deal with multiple enemies at once. It seemed like an odd situation, but what Nemera said, went, at least at the moment. Baron was glad for some instruction in the middle of such a freeze-up situation- he would have been lost without an idea of what to do.

A burst of energy from a single slash of Nemera’s blade cut through the enemy ranks, throwing Wildings aside like twigs. The path was momentarily clear of monsters, and Baron quickly leapt forward, moving as fast as his feet would allow. A shimmer surrounded him as he took off, and a boost, one for speed, appeared in his status gauge. The Ap Do had been cast courtesy of the Takua, and Baron mentally noted that he needed to thank the Wavemaster later. Things just got a lot easier, at least in terms of running. Not only was he moving faster than ever, but it seemed much easier, his feet practically flying over the terrain. He started to create a gap between him and the rest of the group, due to his higher natural speed, so he tuned it down a bit, keeping abreast of the rest of his group. They’d fight better together, if they were pursued, and every bit of help would be useful. Baron had to restrain the urge to run ahead again, as far and fast as he could. It was hard, fighting the need to escape. During the break from the monsters, the Twin Blade had checked his menu for the Gate Out option, but it wasn’t working- Baron was stuck in the field, at least for the time being.

A screech from the side brought Baron’s attention to a Wildwing that had flown up to them, followed by another one. They kept the pace pretty quickly, flying faster than the Twin Blade had expected. Baron kept his Yosetu and Fuyou out, sending a quick Rue Rom at the two birds to slow them down a bit. Their flight was thrown a bit off course, but no really serious damage had been dealt to either of them. That was no surprise, however, and Baron soon came up close to them as he continued running. He tried to send off a Vak Rom as well, but for whatever reason, his spell fizzled and nothing happened. Sighing, he switched his weaponry out. His Yosetu and Fuyou vanished for his new Mukuro, an aura of darkness visible around the blades. The Ani-shrouded weapons moved quickly, slicing at both of the Wildwings flying near Baron.

Both Wildwings became insubstantial as Baron slashed at them with his Mukuro, the weapons passing through their bird-like bodies. However, they solidified a moment later, both flying towards the Twin Blade with their talons extended like weapons. One slashed against his shoulder, tearing open a long cut, but Baron managed to avoid any serious damage, along with a second attack, by picking up the pace a bit. Moving ahead of the two Wildwings, Baron raised his hand and prepared a GiRue Kruz just as the group reached a sunlit clearing.

Both Wildwings vanished in the sunlight, and Baron swore as he lost sight of his targets. They didn’t lose sight of him, and quickly resumed their attack as the Twin Blade slowed. Another slash, this time across his back, took another chunk out of his HP, and Baron grimaced as it dropped into the 80% range. A fifth of his health had been taken from three attacks, indicating that these monsters were not to be trifled with. All that Baron could do was run, though, and hope that he left the sunlight quickly. The birds would be visible again once they were out of the light, and that was Baron’s opportunity to attack.

Baron was soon back in the trees again, the sunlight swallowed by the thick canopy of trees above the group. The two Wildwings appeared again, flying through some trees as if they were mist, swooping between others, but approaching Baron the whole time. However, during one of the brief moments of solidity, the Twin Blade had readied his GiRue Kruz spell again and sent it directly at one of the Wildwings. Shards of ice, jagged like daggers, appeared around the helpless bird, and slammed into it, one after another. The spell-bound shards all came together to make a coffin of ice as they impaled the Wildwing in midair. Blood splattered against the bark of nearby trees and plants as the bird-like monster was crushed by the ice, its HP vanishing as it did.

One Wildwing was left, but it was soon joined by other monsters. The familiar click of claws against the forest floor along with a frenzied panting indicated that at least one or two Wildlings had joined the chase, though there were likely more. Baron didn’t risk a glance back- he just kept running. Unfortunately, it seemed like the monsters were keeping pace quite well, chasing right behind Baron and the others with frenzied growls and an eagle’s call. The piercing cry shook the Twin Blade to his core, but he continued running, holding out hope in the off-chance that they would reach their destination. That hope faded with each step Baron took, especially when he realized that the group of monsters behind him was getting closer. Four Wildings and a pair of Wildwings were in hot pursuit, and Baron heard a crashing in the distance that indicated something larger approaching. He swallowed, realizing that the whole group was soon to be overtaken, but he knew what he had to do- it was the only way to help the others get help.

Sliding to a stop, Baron switched his Mukuro back out for the Yosetu and Fuyou, and put up a pair of Rue Rom spells to hold the approaching mob back for a bit. Twin tornadoes of ice and water rose up to halt the monsters temporarily, bits of frost slicing small cuts in the group as they encountered the pair of spells. Baron watched grimly as the halted, all watching him, and turned to his companions. With a rueful grin, he motioned them to move on. It was time that he did something for the group, and now was a better opportunity then any.

“You guys go on. I’ll hold them off for as long as I can, and probably buy you enough time to get the help that we were sent to find. I can probably hold them off for about four or five minutes, and I can’t guarantee that this is all of them, but I’ll do the best I can to slow them down. Hurry and find the Gan Incarnation, alright?”

"We should stick together, we stand a better chance. Staying behind by yourself is suicide. You are going to get swarmed. It's not a good idea, Baron. I don't care how good you can fight!"

Talal was the first to respond, though the sound of her voice was strained. She stopped momentarily to look back at Baron, and he could tell from her look that she was contemplating staying with him so that he would not be left alone. She seemed to be fighting an internal struggle of what to do. Baron didn’t want her to stay behind, though so he immediately replied, and he was completely straightforward. He wasn’t going to hide the truth, especially not from a friend. Talal had to understand- Baron was doing this for the rest of the group. One more sacrifice to slow the creatures wouldn’t do much good, especially at Talal’s level, so he had to rely on his friend’s speed to help her find assistance in time.

"I know that I'm going to get swarmed. Like I said, I only plan on buying time, not defeating them all. Trust me to do that much, at least.”

"I do trust you. That doesn't mean I have to like your decision. I can't change your mind and I'm sticking with Sekai. Don't wait too long to try and catch up, huh?"

Baron flashed her a quick thumbs up and gave her a casual grin. “I’ll do what I can, alright?”

Shenmock, though, looked back and stared at Baron. He wanted to stay and fight the monsters and let him just...leave?! If he was trying to be the brave one here, he was sure succeeding, but they wouldn't need too many to find this Incarnation thing. Shenmock walked forward and prepared his spear.

"I'm not just going to let my rival fight right there while I run from battle. So, in other words, I'm staying to help too if you don't mind the extra help, Baron."

“Sorry, Shenmock, but you need to go with the others and protect them. I'm leaving it up to you, alright?"

"Yeah, sure, I'll leave this fight and let you fight off loads of monsters. Sure... Sekai's twice as powerful as me, you, Talal, and a lot of the others. Seriously, Talal and Sekai...they can take care of themselves just fine. You? If you die, you're not going anywhere else, so I'm not letting you go anywhere."

He frowned at Baron, one hand gripped on his spear, the other waiting to get ahold of the other handle to start the battle. Was Baron really serious against going against all these monsters at once? It was crazy, but that was Baron to him. His hand lingered to the hilt of his spear and he prepared for battle as monsters filed towards them.

Why is Shenmock being so stubborn? Baron wondered. They were rivals, after all, and if Baron died while holding off the monsters, the Long Arm would be able to take all of the glory. It made no sense for Shenmock to stick around and fight with him, but there seemed to be no convincing him. Baron sighed, running his head through his hair in frustration as his Rue Rom spells faded. Finally, though, as Sekai spoke up, Baron only had one solution, and that was to take Shenmock along. Otherwise, he’d get nowhere, and they’d still be pursued with a lesser chance of survival, if things got too bad.

"I will not leave anyone behind, the risk is too great and you do not know the danger of which you're about to face!"

The girl stopped, anxiety in her eyes as she notched an arrow to her bow and fired to stall one of the pursuers.

"Please trust my judgment on this; if you knew the dangers of these fields, then I would be less reluctant to let you stay. But, as one who isn't experienced, I would be a great fool to allow such a thing."

"It's alright, Sekai. Shenmock'll stay here with me, and we'll keep them busy. You are really the only one who needs to go find the Gan Incarnation's help, but I don't want Talal to get involved in this part either so take her with you. Trust us, please."

"I'll stay behind; you take her and go on ahead."

Kira's voice piped up from a little ways ahead, the woman arriving with a stern look in her eyes.

"Get goin', you'll be fine and I'll keep in contact with you. That alright with you kid?"

“I doubt I’ll deter you, so… welcome aboard, I suppose.”

Talal and Sekai left, with Kira and Shenmock staying behind, Baron turned to see his Rue Rom spells completely vanish. Once the ice and wind had died down, the Wildlings and Wildwings attacked with renewed fury, charging directly at the Twin Blade who had held them back, preventing them from tearing apart the fleeing prey. Switching his Yosetu and Fuyou for his Dante’s Blades, Baron held them at ready as the mob of monsters came upon him in an instant. Two Wildlings immediately leapt through a nearby tree towards the Twin Blade, one sinking its fangs into his arm while the other raced by, passing through Baron briefly. The Twin Blade’s HP dropped again from the bite, and while he was still nowhere near critical, he was getting annoyed by all of the attacks. His HP was lower than he had expected, though, even after all of the attacks. As he watched, a small bit of HP vanished, and a small laugh was heard, but Baron couldn’t find the source of the attack. What was going on?

He didn’t have much time to consider, though, considering the Wildling with its jaws clamped onto his arm, as well as the one circling behind. The first issue was getting the former off, while the latter could wait for a minute, at least. Twisting his weapon into a stabbing position, Baron drove the Dante’s Blade into the Wildling’s jaw, only to be greeted by a splash of crimson across his vision as his weapon hit the skull. Veins were ruptured, and shards of the broken skull scratched Baron’s upper arm, but the Twin Blade’s aim was true and his weapon sank up to the hilt in the monster’s skull. As it died, the Wildling released its grip on Baron’s arm, and fell to the ground while gasping its last breaths.

The other Wildling didn’t wait for its companion to die, and lunged at Baron from behind, its jaws open and its forepaws slashing out with razor-tipped claws. The Twin Blade twisted to avoid the attack, though the monster’s claws still tore into his side, but it was left wide open for Baron’s counterattack. Slashing twice with his blades across the creature’s spine, the treasure hunter sent the monster crashing to the ground, a large chunk of its HP and SP vanishing as the Skill Drain effect from Baron’s Dante’s Blades took hold, draining the Wildling’s SP into his own. His magical reserves refilled somewhat, Baron prepared to deal the finishing blow to his opponent when a roar reverberated throughout the battlefield.

Turning, the Twin Blade caught sight of one of the Trunca entering the area, its needle-like fur glistening with potential venom. Baron still wasn’t sure whether or not the needles were poisoned, but again, he didn’t want to take the risk. He sent a quick Gan Don towards the monster, materializing a gigantic boulder above the Trunca’s head. The rock dropped down atop the monster, crashing upon it with incredible force, and while no Elemental Critical appeared, a good chunk of HP vanished, meaning that it obviously had low Magical Defense. That was a bit of an advantage, as long as Baron’s SP held out…

Or rather, it was an advantage.

A shower of needles came from the monster’s body, the fur seeming to simply fly off of the Trunca’s body to shoot through the air. Baron was unprepared for such an assault, and could only put his hands up to protect his face as the needles came directly towards him. The sharp spines thudded into his body with a sickening sound, sending the Twin Blade flying backwards as his HP completely vanished from the assault. As he fell to the ground, Baron noted his status bar. There was a poison icon above it, and the fallen treasure hunter had to grin for no particular reason.

I guess they were poisoned after all…

A minute later, a pale-looking ghost of a Twin Blade sat watching the fight, waiting to be revived…

Could life get worse?

He already had to fight the Knights of War, but now this? He wasn’t exactly sure if he was just going to log out and forget about the whole thing, or continue on where he was. He bent down and tried to get a good glance at what was coming toward them. He wasn’t exactly sure at the sight of it. It looked like an army of around 30 monsters or so…maybe more if there were reinforcements. He crouched down, still trying to get a good look. Everything around them was basically green. Leaves came up and floated back down, only to fly back up as they flew past. They were getting closer and closer with each coming second. He didn’t even have his spear out. Everyone seemed to be prepared, but him. He closed his eyes for a moment. He could get prepared in a second if he wanted to. It was just a hassle to do it until it came. He pushed it out of his mind and stood up straight as they approached farther, but heard something that made him flinch for a moment. He looked over to numerous trees that were spread out throughout the area and saw something coming at him fast. He brought out his spear and saw that one had just passed through…Nemera’s body. He looked up, only to see that it flew straight at him, slamming into his chest.

He cried out, seeing the same happen to his companions. It seemed like all the ones who were new were being affected by this strange attack. He fell back into the light mud. He didn’t know what to do. He lay sprawled on the ground there for a second, feeling his HP meter drop a bit. He got up and wiped a bit of the mud off of him. He got up and prepared his River Spear for another assault from the huge flying beasts but only found vicious monsters surrounding them. They were like wolves. He prepared his spear for an onslaught and was again knocked back down on his butt. He fell to the mud and got up again, trying to swing at it. He was unsuccessful, only to fall back onto the ground. He got up, panting, for the last time. He wasn’t going to lose that easily! He prepared his spear to swing at it for the last time, but saw that it grazed over its fur before it pounced on him, sending him back onto the ground. He knew what would happen if he got up and he wasn’t going to move a single limb. He was afraid his HP would zip to zero and he’d have to be revived. There were better things to heal than him. He was an inexperienced fighter. What else really mattered other than that?

He wasn’t alone in this fight. Everyone else was down there with him. There wasn’t much they could do other than sit there, waiting. The wolf-like creatures surrounded them, growling and threatening to pounce on one of them if they made a muscle. It was the same with the vultures that flew circles around them. What were they waiting for? Why didn’t they just kill them now rather than wait their whole life? Was there something that they were waiting for? A person, maybe? He wasn’t exactly sure about this, but they were surrounded, trapped like rats in a cage. He hated the feeling and he betted that everyone else did too. He found that there was yet another beast that surrounded them. Well, it wasn’t exactly a beast, more like a tree or something like that. The names were all things that he had never even heard of before. The next, and seemingly last one made him get goosebumps everywhere. Cloaked and hooded figures with pure white arms hovered around them. They had no faces, and they looked like Ring Wraths from the Lord of the Rings. Yet they were floating. He stared at them, wide-eyed and scared. He didn’t know what to do now. Everything was there to scare him: wolves, vultures, strange trees, and cloaked figures that very much crept people out. Yes, it was a nightmare for sure.

There was one last monster, though, and it crept him out even more. There just had to be gorillas here that were extremely powerful. He just hoped they didn’t care about bananas. If he had been in a field, he would’ve laughed, but now, he was actually scared of these things. They could totally kill them…and if they killed them, this would’ve been pointless, and they’d be in huge trouble too. The circle grew as the green gorillas joined the array of monsters that surrounded them. He only stared at them, the pack growing larger and larger. He didn’t know what to do. He was shaking all over. He stared down at the ground, hearing something and seeing something that seemed quite strange. There were strange shapes and something was down there…under them. He knew it was something, but what? He could only wonder. Gremlin-life laughter echoed and he heard it. He fidgeted a bit in the spot where they were at, but knew it wasn’t good for the whole lot of them.

The leader finally came through. He didn’t think it was a real player, or a hacker, but who was he kidding? The man wore what looked like Juk armor. It seemed to be made out of bark or some kind of substance like that. In its own way, it was unique, but it looked like his own flesh was just about the same. He shivered at the sight of it. He looked up and only saw a helmet. His face was concealed of course, and Shenmock didn’t think he was going to take it off to reveal himself. He didn’t really care about identity. He cared about the Eventide’s fate, not who the heck the guy was who was attempting to destroy them. Well, he wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

He finally spoke, telling them that they were trespassers on the stupid Hunter’s Ground or whatever. He didn’t really care. He only knew that they were going to kill them and attempt to ruin their day. Bad guys always were the most stupid and idiotic, right? Or was this guy not kidding and about to destroy his very life. He received a flash-mail at that moment. He didn’t like the sound of things from it, but read it. It was very disturbing, but Nemera wanted him, Baron, and Talal away? That was crazy in his opinion, but was he going to just stay and ruin his own life? He didn’t think so. A look from the leader’s blades and he was off, seeing as Nemera had just cleared a pathway for him, Baron, Talal, and Sekai. He charged off for a moment, not daring to look behind him and lose speed. Most of the monsters had already converged, trying to get their hands on the likes of Takua, Zan, Nemera, Sidhe, and Exangelus, but three had come after them. The wolf like monster came after him. He kept running but slid to a halt in the dirt, preparing his spear to hit it away. The monster bashed into him, knocking his HP down quite a bit. He mumbled a La Repth as he hit the ground and felt the familiar white aura surround him for a moment.

He got up and prepared his River Spear. There he was, standing face to face with a wolf that could bash him to pieces with a few strikes. The dog jumped and Shenmock swung his spear, managing to get one hit in. It hit its chest and made it fall down to the ground, about to move. Shenmock managed one more hit before it jumped away. He prepared his spear with both hands for another strike coming from the wolf. The wolf sped forward and jumped, dodging a stab to the chest in mid-air and coming at him full throttle. It came on top of him. He rolled back, managing to push it off and get up, still panting and trying to get a hold on his spear. The monster charged forward once again. He held up his hand, his mouth open for a spell. He yelled a Gan Zot.

A dull brown aura surrounded him. Leaves swirled around him in the wind, being blown away by the opposing element. The ground rumbled slightly and the wolf was slammed with three rock pillars that looked extremely strong and sturdy, though the armor was hardly strong and hardly any good. He prepared his spear once again as the wolf fell down to the ground, blood strolling down the side of it. It whined once, then got up, aware of Shenmock smiling at him. He growled and charged forward, not wanting to bite, but ram. He really couldn’t stop that unless he used another spell. He prepared his spear and swung, but went a bit too high, only grazing off its ears. Its wild eyes flashed for a moment and it sped forward in the last few feet. He was hit full throttle, being overrun and hit off a few feet away, a bit closer to the battle. He didn’t want to attract more attention than he needed, that much was for sure. He sprinted towards it and made a leap, but was hit with a claw. He grimaced as his HP meter dropped again. He charged off again towards the group, trying to keep up with them. The monster charged forward again, trying to get on top of him or at least drag him back to the battle so he’d die with ease. As he ran he did a quick spin and saw the monster charging forward. He made a swing and found that it missed entirely. He skidded back and watched the monster come forward, growling like it should’ve been.

It jumped forward, but Shenmock was first, yelling Gan Don. The familiar brown aura surrounded him and sent his hair flying back. His emerald green eyes flashed with excitement as a single boulder zoomed out of the sky, hitting it down and finishing the monster off. He smiled at his successful kill, but ran back to catch up with his group nonetheless. He caught up with everyone, some finishing their fights, others still running at top speed. He felt a bit of a speed boost and didn’t even realize that he had had one. How had he…? He looked back to the battle, still running but found that Baron slid to a halt a few feet back. He almost tripped over a log that was coming forward. He stumbled forward and stopped, staring at Baron as he stood there, looking back at the battle that was at hand. He turned and walked back.

A conversation played out before him. Baron, obviously wanted to stay and hold them off. In his opinion, it was considered stay and fight with the others and try to avoid running away like some scared treasure hunter. Baron was showing off in his opinion, and it wasn’t like he was going to go ahead and leave just like that. Baron didn’t tell him what to do, and he was going to stay with him in the fight. The conversation ended quickly. He was staying there, to fight with him. If Nemera got pissed off, it was her problem, not his. He was going to destroy a few of these things to help them, but if it was not appreciated, it was their problem, not his. He prepared his spear for battle as Baron prepared his blades for the battle. There were a few of each. Wildings, Wildwings, and those gorilla-like monsters, but there were only a few of the gorillas. There were those cloaked figures too, but the higher ups were numbered while the lowers were a bit lower. He didn’t notice Kira had joined them in the battlefield. It always helped to have someone else helping them, especially when she was that high in level. He threw his River Spear into the air, the spear disappearing and reappearing in a new spear. It was the Stormer Spear. It wasn’t quite the strongest spear, but he looked forward to using the spear in battle. It seemed like an aura surrounded the spear. He closed his eyes for a moment as a Wilding came at him. He opened them and prepared the spear, a shining aura surrounding him. It was time.

Shenmock swung the spear, his hair flying back and his emerald eyes flashing brightly. He smiled as his jacket flapped back in the sudden wind. A storm seemed to swirl around him with this spell. The power of Rai, put into a skill that would help destroy this Wild pack of beasts. He swung forward, the spear colliding with the monster’s claws. Rai spheres of energy erupted from the spear and hit the monster with full throttle. Rai Rom echoed out of his mouths as this happened, spear meeting claw and meeting it with a frenzy of Rai waves. He swung harder and pulled through, slashing the monster and sending it back to the ground, the monster hitting the grass only to get back up again and prepare for battle. He opened his mouth to yell a taunt, but closed it, knowing it was useless and stupid to taunt a monster who couldn’t understand your language. The Wilding charged forward in big leaps, covering two yards with every step. It finally made a huge leap to hit Shenmock. He stared up at it, then brought his spear up to meet his claw. He was unsuccessful in his strike, only to be hit down with claws raking his face. It wasn’t a comfortable point, but was this game ever comfortable?

He tried to swing it off, but it was the size of a Great Dane. They were quite big, and a creature like this wasn’t going to be just kicked off by some puny little player named Shenmock. It swiped at its face and made another strike. He mumbled a Gan Don and watched a single rock come roaring out of the sky. The monster looked up and knew it was doomed at that moment. It hit him straight in the back and made his feet crumble to the ground. It fell to the right, leaving him with open space to get up for a moment. He prepared his spear, aware that his HP were low, but aware that he had spells he could use at any moment in time. The monster produced a low growl and leaped at him. He swung his spear in defense, successfully guarding, but staggering back by the force of the claws. He prepared his spear again as he backed up against a tree. The monster swung, making a three mark on the tree as Shenmock ducked and swung up. The monster only jumped back and jumped back in, swinging his claw sideways to make a perfect Tic-Tac-To playing area, though it was a little ugly at that. It swung again with its right claw and it slammed into his face, making yet another scratch mark and sending him staggering back into a small clearing, though you couldn’t exactly call it that. It just had a bit of sunlight, but that was the worst part.

Another two wolves surrounded him and approached him. He switched to his River Spear and was about to prepare his spear when everything…vanished. A questioning look came upon his face. He looked around. Where had everything gone? Was this some kind of trick? He saw a paw track being made in the light mud. He stared at it for a moment, only to get bashed into a tree by one of the wolves. He hit the tree with amazing force, but it was out of the clearing. The wolf who had been injured took a step out of the clearing, revealing itself. He yelled a Gan Zot, which caught it by surprise. A brown aura surrounded him. The familiar feelings came around as he prepared the spell up for the monster. The ground rumbled for a while, then stopped. There was silence, then it sparked. Brown pillars of thick dirt shot up from the ground, pounding the single monster. It dematerialized the second it hit, leaving the other two. He was about to mutter a Repth when a single monster came forward. It was that gorilla dude. He stared up at the monster. It was in the tree, ready to pounce on him. He turned to run, but there were only wolves waiting for him. He was about to mumble the Repth when the monster jumped from the tree and slammed both fists together, prepared to swing down. He found his companion, Baron, was dead too. He threw up a Revival and was smashed by the monster, bones cracking and his brains being blasted out. Literally. His player instantly fell to the ground and lay motionless until it disappeared, revealing Shenmock. He frowned. He hated the ghost form, but at least he could revive Baron.

Shenmock looked at the battle. Two Wildings that he had to finish off…and a giant gorilla that was just about impossible to beat. He could take care of the Wildings…but gorillas were a whole different story. He wasn’t the great man of the jungle, Tarzan, but he could still fight, that much was for sure. He stared at the wolves who were about to charge at Baron, but first, he was revived in return. Both were returned to normal, but he didn’t have any SP at all, so that meant lots of things. No spells, no healing, and no Elemental Criticals. That…was a bad thing.

He looked over at the Wildings that were about to go over and start to fight his friend. He prepared his spear and charged forward, the River Spear equipped since it was strongest in his arsenal. He swung down and hit one of the monsters, but only alerted the next. The monster he had hit flinched and looked up with emerald green eyes. They seemed to go from, ‘Let’s go after that Treasure Hunter’ to, ‘Hey look, it’s Shenny, the stupid and inexperienced guy’. He didn’t like the look, but the monster only licked its chops and prepared to make a Shenny dish out of him. They probably wanted meat, but his dead body was probably saved for the Wildwings. He pushed the thought out of his head and prepared his spear. He swung at one of them as it jumped at him. The next came, knocking him down into the mud. He rolled backward, dodging another strike and coming up to be slammed forward with a head butt. He tumbled back and fell over a log. He got up and swung his spear, this time managing a hit on one of them. It fell back, but its partner was prepared for another strike. Its partner jumped, landed on its partner, and leaped off as if it was nothing. It did a front flip in the air and came down, prepared to bite into flesh. He swung up with his spear, the monster only being able to bite down on it. The monster came down into the mud and Shenmock was forced to stand there, trying to get his spear away from the monster. The monster wouldn’t budge, and he was having problems with that. He mumbled a Repth as it hit ten and managed to gain control again. He swung at it, hitting it back for a while and letting him focus at one at a time.

The monsters weren’t that great to him. He prepared his spear, only to see that both had got up, and both were planning to attack together…again. One jumped, the other stayed. It swung one claw to the right. Shenmock met it with his spear and jumped back, avoiding yet another strike from the deadly second claw. He didn’t know what to do at the moment. Both were surrounding him and they were pummeling him at that. He decided to go at a different plan of action. He put his spear away and held up a single scroll. It was the Raining Rocks scroll. He had kept these for this quest, and planned to use them well. The scroll glowed a great white light and, with that, two rocks shot out of the sky, hitting the first monster and bringing it where it belonged: the dead lands. He grinned. There was one down. Now there was only one left to deal with. He smiled and shook his head as the monster jumped on the log and made a huge leap. It spun around this time, sending its head and claws forward towards him. He swung, trying to get a good grip on where to swing, but he was hit in the chest, full throttle, no holding back.

He was blasted back down onto the grass. He got up and prepared his spear again. He noticed the battle in the distance and wondered for a moment: were they fending off well? He only knew that they were within sight of the group and for one thing, he knew that Nemera might be getting pissed off, but he wasn’t exactly sure. At least they were helping? The Wilding jumped at him once again, but this time Shenmock guarded with his spear. He parried, hitting the monster three times with a good combo: stab, stab…and more stab. It was his way of saying ‘Get’ ‘Away’ ‘From’… He sighed, seeing that it didn’t make sense. He threw his spear forward, sending it straight into its side. ‘Me.’ There, now he was satisfied with his battle. He walked triumphantly forward and pulled his spear out of the Wilding’s decayed body.

“Well, then, that’s four Wildings down for me. Hmm…that’s pretty good for the first round of this area.”

Even with the impending horror of the horde, Takua couldn’t help but be impressed by the beauty of the wilderness about him. Although not the most aligned to Juk, he had always been connected to nature in some way. Had always sought places of solitude in either a river or a forest. Now, in this place, that same sense of…peace wanted to infuse into his bones that he could remain here. Whatever thinking he could do, or what quiet he sought in his life, there would be place. It was, sadly, a false feeling, as the pounding horde that rumbled closer to him would undoubtedly want to flay the flesh from their bones. Their allies, wherever they were, wouldn’t so blatantly announce their presence like this. Even though he could not smell what Zan and Sekai could, he could tell from the looks that had previously crossed their faces that something called to them. Zan looked to be affiliated with Juk, and Sekai certainly was, but the Wavemaster and Rue-aligned boy didn’t know just how much it called to them. If it affected them as Vesica’s field had at first, or more, things could become interesting quickly. From the look on the tall man’s face, he was pissed like no other, and shit was about to go down.

Sparing a brief glance around at the people around him, he made up his mind. He didn’t know how this fight would work out, and he didn’t want to take any chances from the sound of the army. Knowing that it would take almost all of his SP, and would thus have to rely on the Mages Souls that he had stocked up with. It wouldn’t matter though. His Ap Do was probably going to finish its time shortly, and that would mean that the other two would be running out. White light liberally flared and glowed around him as he chain casted the speedy buff. White lights enfolded the entire party, ten people having received the spell’s affects. A few possibly didn’t notice, having been distracted by the sudden emergence of…strange, translucent green birds that exploded out of the trees surrounding them. Maybe thirty or so Wildwings, easily three times the size of a decent eagle, and they were all coming straight at them. He hefted his staff even as he watched a few of them vanish when struck by the light that filtered down, wondering if he should cast or wait until the rest of the horde came in. He didn’t get a chance to decide, as one of them flew straight at him while he hefted his staff towards it; only for the devious thing to pass straight through him as if he weren’t there.

Eyes widening in shock and sudden comprehension, he turned as a few people cried out in alarm. Shenmock had gotten nailed, as had the Twin blades. Scowling at the thought of birds that could turn between ghosts and physical beings at will, and trying to keep their infernal screeching from distracting him, he turned just as huge dogs bounded out of the forest. He hadn’t even begun to get himself oriented to the new threat when he found one of the Wildlings crashing straight into his back. Borne quickly to the ground, he quickly joined in the circle that had formed up. Once there, he could actually examine the enemies that they found themselves facing. First, and most unfortunately, of all, they were circling as if to keep them trapped. Which, combined with the rest of the stampeding horde they could hear, suggested that the approaching army was absolutely huge. Second, both the huge beasts on the ground and the birds in the air were all…strange somehow. All of them were easily recognizable from the real world, birds and beasts of prey, but all of them overgrown and different.

Something was changing about the scene, and he looked up to see the daylight vanishing. Rainclouds? It was likely in this huge forest that there would be rain, but what type of rain he didn’t want to think about. In the rainforests, there were titanic rainfalls that could sweep away anything once they got going. Animals had the sense of hide. Would that same scene play out once it started? Suddenly, he was struck by a strange thought. How fucking cliché would it be to fight in the Juk field…in the rain? Give it a bit of lightning and thunder…

The next part of the horde stepped none-to-quietly out of the trees from the north. His eyes took in men shaped objects made out of pure thicket. Something about their own orbs made him stir, want to get up and run the other way. Something was wrong with this horde already, and he didn’t like it at all. Not only because of the vast quantity and their undeniable power, but it was something fundamental that struck him as being off. They didn’t speak, and after forming the front rank of what would undoubtedly be a line fell entirely motionless. The next group after the Thicket Creepers was something called a Flayer, which elicited some kind of movement from Zan and someone named Nulus. Their feet didn’t touch the ground, floating in black cloaks that managed to hide their faces as well. The nails were something out of a fantasy, long and hideously yellow.

Their addition out of the way, Takua grew increasing concerned. This was reminding him strikingly of either the…amount of Children he thought Sprouce had summoned in the final battle that he couldn’t remember very clearly, or of a certain Ganz Arena that was now deleted. Switching staffs unobtrusively, he pulled out the Witch’s Wand again. There was only one spell on it that he wanted before he would put it back. Whatever was the most massive beast that they had to deal with, that one he would use as his temporary slave. Certainly, the next monsters, Trunca, were huge, but not quite big enough. It was only when he realized that the ape-like hair covering them were actually barbs with some sort of liquid on it did he begin to be wary. Something like that, in this field, would undoubtedly hold some sort of status effect, and the rippling muscles that lay beneath those barbs promised untold amounts of death should they strike him.

He had to agree with Nemera when she tried to rise. They should get out of here, and do it quickly. The obvious challenge rating of those would have been, under any old system, a quickly delivered Ludicrous or just a plain Ha Ha You’re Fucked. Unfortunately, all of the dogs began to deliver warning barks which seemed to settle her down quickly. It was only when she hit the ground again that he became aware of the earth bouncing and groaning with the torture of whatever was underneath it. Snarling with the knowledge that whatever was down there wasn’t going to be fun to fight, he turned towards the sound of hooves pounding against the ground. Only one set though…which meant that he was about to see the leader, especially with the way that the horde was parting. Before that boss moved to the front, he spotted…something in the peripherals of his vision. Something was there, but gone before his head could complete its motion to spot whatever the fuck it was.

Then the man rode in front of his army before giving them a speech about how they needed to die right then and there. Takua was barely listening, his mind on everything else at once. Like how Nemera was unnaturally still, and the fact that there were allies that needed to be found. Quickly. He wasn’t sure if they were even going to find those allies, things that they needed quickly, or die right then. In that moment though, his flashmail alerted him to the fact that Nemera had a plan, one that required him and several other people to be bait. Four other people could run like Kenyans on their energy legs, and if they were caught they would be deported back to Kenya killed where they stood. He smirked slightly when he saw the line about the arena, having already thought the same thing and totally agreeing with her. Only, if they got help…they might actually get a chance to survive this thing. No telling what special abilities the monsters held, and he jumped to his feet as Nemera opened a path for the runners.

The next second was chaos.

His legs hurled him skyward as watery wings unfolded and pumped him out of the way of the Trunca. Another second later huge, legless green centipedes came out of the ground. His eyes widened in shock at the same time that a maniac grin crossed his face. This was the target that he would charm. The target said Burrow Worm, and he let off the Miu Lei as the first of the spells exploded around him. For a second, all he could see was the green of what was possibly ten spells being cast at once, the air around him filling with forested death. Doing the only thing he could to escape level two spells and worse, he folded his wings. Suddenly flightless, he dropped down below the maelstrom just as the first Wildwings reached his former position. Realizing the main problem with trying to fly was opening up the range for spells and the flying monsters, he shuddered. Down below it was worms and gorillas, as well as whatever physical monster wanted to hurt him. And, in that moment, something dinged him. A tiny portion of his health vanished to the tune of laughter as the worm rumbled on underneath him. It was slow, but as it went into its former allies, it simply swallowed them all into its gaping maw. Three, six, ten into the giant toothed worm that was easily the size of a bus, and then the leader, Saol, saw him. It was almost with laughter that he simply clenched his fist, and the next thing the Wavemaster knew, he had been bucked off his perch by a monster that was certainly no longer attacking allies.

Cursing that he hadn’t realized the obvious, the Wavemaster took to the skies again. The bastard could simply control the actions of the monsters around him if he so wished. The two Heavy Blade weapons that he carried pointed at him as the huge Burrow Worm turned around and started to charge at him. Thankfully, he wasn’t at a height that permitted an attack, which left him free to cast something. Taking in the entire battle with a quickly glance, he narrowed his eyes. Several monsters were detaching from the main body to take off after the four or five runners. Taking out his Gaia Staff, he quickly cast two OrGan Dons where the main split was occurring.

Two spells began to form over the heads of Trunca and Wildlings alike. Three boulders waited for a few moments, gathering weight and shape, before plummeting down to find bodies. The earth shook in the surrounding vicinity from the force of the impact, blatantly powerful Elemental Criticals rising above the carnage of damage to show what had happened. All of the Wildlings were dead, broken bones and wreckage clearly showing in their corpses. Two of the Trunca that had been caught simply didn’t get nailed with the Elemental Critical, but, from the shape of their hide alone, they weren’t doing very well. A few hits, or another spell, would finish them off in quick order. He had just diverted his attention back to a charging Wildwing, or five, when something happened. He wasn’t sure what it was until he tried to cast a La Repth…and nothing happened. His eyes widened again in pure panic when he realized that his spells were completely locked down, and he had five beasts charging at him…right as the spells started up again.

Thanking the speed of the Ap Do, the aerial Wavemaster took off before the first spell coalesced into a Juk Rom where he had been flying. He didn’t have time to rejoice further, as a Wildwing crashed into his body at an angle he couldn’t defend from. He brought his staff to bear on the next one, only to have it flit harmlessly through his body. The RaJuk Rom that suddenly materialized around him though, would not fit the description of ‘harmless’. Flying as best as he could through the sudden hurricane of wind and branches, he felt himself get buffeted around by the spell. Flying through a third level tornado was not beneficial to one’s flying skills, or one’s health. Digging out a Health Drink, he took it with relish to restore at least some of his lost health. Diving towards the ground netted him two misses from Wildwings, but gained him a strange ball of light to the face. It didn’t do much, but stopped his headlong rush towards the ground, where he could escape the birds.

Juk light flared around him as a MeJuk Kruz began to form. Branches formed from nothing at all, leaves sprouting from the twigs that grew out of the thick bark. He twisted to the side as they came in, several pieces barely missing him, but one thick log went straight through his leg, blood spraying from the wound as his bone simply snapped in half. Reaching down, he wrenched the log out and watched it dissolve as he dug out another health drink. There was a status effect on him that seemed to be keeping him from casting anything, something that stubbornly stayed on him. Gritting his teeth, he flew straight up as a Wildwing flashed past him, clipping him only slightly. Spells targeted him on his way up, mostly coming from the Flayers and a few from Thicket Creepers. Thinking desperately, he tried to comprehend what he could do with no spells. At the moment, all he could do was throw out resurrects and health potions as he waited for the status effect to end. It had been nearly twenty seconds already, and it didn’t seem to want to go away. Problem was, he hadn’t remembered getting hit by anything, so unless a monster had cast a spell on him…

The icon vanished.

Looking down, there wasn’t monster near him anymore. A few Wildwings were charging up, but they weren’t there yet. Targeting one of the Trunca that seemed to be trying to get to Exangelus from behind, he set it, and the few Thicket Creepers around it, a gift of stone. A strange juxtaposition with all of the Juk around it, the Yarthkins slammed into the ground with its huge granite club already ready to be swung. Not waiting for the Wild Hunt to react to its presence, the moment that it had solid footing, the muscles on its arms bulged. Like a giant hammer striking a bell, the weapon crashed through three of the Thicket Creepers before finally nailing the Trunca. A second later, the gorilla with a hyena face went flying…straight into the open mouth of a Borrow Worm. Blood splattered the ground as it went, vanishing at last into its open mouth with a shriek. Two of the other Thicket Creepers suffered from sudden severe lack of health, courtesy of Elemental Criticals that struck them. The last one cracked its head on a tree, getting up somewhat shakily before letting off a Juk Rom at the exact same time that Saol glanced up at him. As if demanding that he return to the earth for a taste of the two Heavy Blade weapons, the RaJuk Rom crashed down on the airborn Wavemaster.

Suddenly out of control, he dropped out of the bottom of the two wood tornadoes as Wildwings flew straight up at him. The status effect popped back on him as he got closer…before vanishing entirely. Smiling grimly, he filed away that knowledge. Something down there had the ability to have other members of the Wild Hunt cancel out spellcasting. He passed through one Wildwing with his staff outstretched so that it would be hit, a second crashing into his side and sending him into a tree. Rebounding off of it, he struggled to regain his control before going straight into the ground. Finding the rest of the group beneath him, he cast a single La Repth, letting the healing light wash over the entire group and himself. With most of his injuries fixed up again, he turned his attention, and SP, towards more important things. Like the complete obliteration of the current army. He knew that reinforcements were arriving constantly, and that they had God only knew how many things to fight. But, the more things died, the easier time they would have, as well as breathing room.

Which was when the battleground exploded with Gan.

Chaincasting didn’t even describe it. He could only call it spam, pure and through. At the end of it, he would likely die from concentrated fire, but it was worth it. Any area close to a player that had a few monsters in it got hit with a spell. The first three were all OrGan Dons. Nulus would find himself safely in the middle of a triangle, rocks crushing most of the monsters around him. The first one found two Wildlings and one Wildwing as its target, boulders easily crushing emerald and jade flesh. Even as the first spell started its business, the second made its presence known. Large chunks of granite and marble crashed to the ground, pulverizing the bone found in three Thicket Creepers with Elemental Criticals. All three bit the dust, corpses graying out next to the man even as the third spell hit the ground. The first rock that came plummeting down snapped the Trunca’s arm. The second proceeded to bend it over from a strike to the back. The last snapped its neck like a pile of tinder underneath a ball of neutronium.

Exangelus was the next person to receive a small gift of Gan. The familiar sight of a Yarthkins appeared in front of him after Takua took a Mage’s Soul to kick his SP count back to a little over halfway. The large battle troll took up a position so that his club had maximum swinging range, something that it promptly used to great affect. The Flayer that was caught by the swinging club didn’t take that much damaged. The two Trunca, on the other hand, weren’t quite so lucky. The Wavemaster had to resist the wild urge to scream ‘SWING BATTER BATTER SWING!’ as the club connected with their bodies. Shot out like a bullet from a barrel, or like a ball from a bat, the two hapless gorillas went headfirst into the charging mouth of a Barrow Worm that was still focused on the Wavemaster.

The second Yarthkins swallowed the last of his SP until he used another Mage’s Soul. The Gan summon touched down almost touching the Twin Blade, the massive club arcing down directly overhead to crash down with a force that sent the Thicket Creeper directly underneath it six fee under. The other two Wildlings nearby were thrown several feet to impact either trees or other members of their congregation. The spell over with, the troll vanished back to where it came from. The first of the spells began to erupt from where Sidhe stood, the GiGan Zot targeting a single Trunca. The spiked spell thrust outwards from the ground, impaling the beast through the chest before erupting out of its back with an Elemental Critical. Flipping through the air, it came crashing back down on top of a Wildwing that had strayed too close to it’s path and hadn’t been paying attention to where its ally was. The second raise spell erupted under a Flaying, reaching up and digging into its body before returning to the ground below. There hadn’t been a hefty amount of health lost in that spell, but there was some damage for the Long Arm to take advantage of.

The last spell was a OrGan Don, something that, again, put Takua’s SP to where he couldn’t really cast anything worthwhile. Glugging a Mage’s Soul as the Drop spell began to wreak its carnage, he turned to Nemera. Hundred pound earthen clumps crashed hit the monsters below, sending the three Wildlings flying as they attempted to escape the area of effect. Takua looked over at where Nemera was, figuring out where to put the spells. She could annihilate things quickly when she was facing front, it was those flanking monsters and the few that she couldn’t see behind her that were the problems. Decision made, he cast the correct spells as he glanced around. Several Wildwings, maybe twenty of them, had just figured out that he was a major threat. Saol didn’t look happy either, and the look in his eyes bespoke massive problems for the boy.

The first of the OrGan Dons that Nemera was to receive pummeled the monsters to her left flank. Crushing everything in its path, Thicket Creepers and Wildlings dies or were seriously injured by the time the dust settled. On her right, a similar scene had just occurred, with blocks of rock rendering muscle so much mush and blood. Elemental Criticals abounded on that side, rendering several monsters lifeless corpses. For the last spell he had actually switched out to another staff, the Muddy Rod. The one second level spell on there whipped into being, the MeGan Rom bringing heavy rocks into contact at high velocities as the winds lashed at the monsters that it found there. Two Wildwings that had attempted to sneak up on Nemera and nail her found themselves caught in the spell and were chucked out as so much fine Jade mist.

One of the Wildwings was outpacing the rest, flickering between visible and invisible as it went through the light. He didn’t have any time left as he took one more Mage’s Soul. He had been casting as quickly as he could be, but that wasn’t fast enough to keep him safe for the last few casts he wanted. Keeping the same staff out for just one more spell that remained on there, he found the crowd around Zan. The flare of Juk meant that he couldn’t see what he looked like, only the enemies around him. The MeGan Rom tore into those that were behind the man, stone shredding flesh and rending bone into so much powder. Switching out to the Gaia Staff, he let loose two final spells as the Wildwing crashed into him. Flipping forward with his wings still going, he tried to keep himself aloft and alive as the horde arrived after that.

Down with his spells, the OrGan Don was the first to fall to Zan’s right. Bone snapped like kindling and blood flowed freely from the Thicket Creeper and Trunca that he had hit, the Thicket Creeper dying from his wounds. Zan would find a very weak and bloody primate next to him if he happened to look that way. On the entire left flank and some of his front, the Yarthkins that he had cast with the last of his SP roared as it materialized. Wielding its granite mace, and being careful of the Heavy Blade next to him, that earthen weapon crashed down with devastating force on the nearest enemy. The unfortunate Wildling managed a doglike whimper before succumbing to the inevitable, a broken body that couldn’t hold on to its basic components as it vanished. The surrounding enemies were thrown away by the force of a small bomb, Zan standing just outside of the radius.

Takua knew that he had done what he needed to do. That said, he really wanted to get out of the situation he was in alive. He might have made it to, were it not for the sudden crash of Wildwings into his body, driving him down towards the ground and into the waiting hand of a Trunca. Bringing its hand back, the beast connected with the Wavemaster’s jaw, sending him flying towards a certain man on horseback. Takua attempting to regain control with his wings and gain some height, but it was too little, too late. The twin swords separated his neck from his torso at the same time his legs lost intimate connection with his waist. As his headless body crashed to the ground, one of the other Trunca, in a blatant gesture of disrespect, used his head as a football, punting it into the trees.

Serenity was broken by fear.

All around her, the Eventide Crescendo was knocked down, scattered to the ground as those horrifyingly... monsterous beings vanished, reappeared and went right through her without so much as a sound. Her throat suddenly seized, closing and lungs shrieking a warning to her brain as black spots emerged behind her eyes and her knees hit the ground with a hand clutching at her throat.

Whatever they were, those things were enormous, much bigger than any bird she'd ever seen before or could have even imagined, that they could disappear and reappear seemingly at will was of no amount of comfort. The gigantic snarling dog like creatures had her freezing in place like a deer in the headlights, backing up quickly in a crab-like scuttle until her back smacked against someone else's and she was left with nowhere else to go.ill m

Zan was to her left and Nemera-san to her right, her heart pounding in her chest as she felt the beginning signs of the magic imbued within the gigantic tattoo spanning her back awakening, Kira preparing to be summoned and to fight like a demon out of a frigid hell. Those dogs, if one could even call them that, were at least as tall as her shoulder if she could stand up without one of them snarling and leaping through her. Something else arrived, tall entities with some kind of bark like skin and furiously glowing eyes stared at the group, she shivered beneath the glower and looked elsewhere with a rapidly beating heart.

Those called “Flayers” were the stuff of nightmares, the small Archer trembled as they arrived on to the scene, shrinking back a little more as she tried to make herself as small a target as humanely possible right then. Even that one form of Zan and Nulus-san's... the Merged, that hadn't scared her nearly as much as that taloned, hooded figure with flesh like dried, uncured animal flesh.

Those ape looking ones scared the hell out of her too; they were big and mean looking. The name she couldn't figure out how to pronounce as she began desperately looking for an escape, for somewhere they could slip through with minimal injuries and pain inflicted upon them. Something else was there, something that the rest of them were all cornering them for, as if they had no other purpose but to keep that which they felt did not belong in one place until someone came to judge them. Nemera was anxious, she could feel the tension, feel the start of the battle already starting to rise from everyone's hearts, determination and fear ruling over everyone.

At first, she'd thought it was her imagination, a delusion brought about from memories stemming from the last Eventide field she'd been on; her first and last one that had been spent in the outside world she knew she would eventually return to... once her duties, all of them, were complete and no more loose ends were left to be tied. A pinch like feel that turned into a brief, flaring pain that felt like she'd poked herself with a sewing needle began to spread around her back, her head, shoulders and neck. Nerve wracking, high pitched little demonic giggles rang shrilly out in her ears as she tried to swat them, being stabbed again by whatever they had and barely managing to catch movement at the corner of one eye.

Power.

Sekai felt it even within the taint of this place that should have been sanctified, that she and Zan and Nulus-san would have felt so at home in; that the being on such a gorgeous steed, as fearsome as it was with the poison green flames and the sinister aura it threw off as it pawed the ground before them in a manner that could only be described as regal. Ram like horns adorned the helm he wore to hide his face, fury in his eyes- brown she noted in a slight interest and wondered if he too shared her beloved element and his armor could only be described as beautiful. Something about it was familiar, Sekai thought to herself with a slight sigh slipping from her mouth before she could put a stop to it, but what was it?

...crafted from magma rock with the exception that the colorful veins between the sheets of rock weren't red, but a pulsing green.

The Yavan. That armor... somehow it reminded her of the way the veins carrying the lifeblood of the awe inspiring but commanding presences of those myths come to life. It was surprisingly comforting, she thought to herself and checked her heart. Yes, she was still afraid but, the memory of an imposing form, of sleek muscle and strong wings, of freezing ice blasting the dragons and coating their flesh and of the way they'd both fallen to the earth below; one dead, one not that first and final flight.

'I miss them...'

It made her heartache to think of the proud, noble masters of the skies but... as much as it made her ache, it made her heart lighten, made her small self seem... stronger, more capable in some way that she couldn't begin to explain. Though... Zan and Nulus-san had never met the Yavan, for that, she thought it was a very sad thing to have missed out on. Even though she had only briefly encountered the protective Heavyblade and his... friend? Mentor? What on earth did one call Nulus-san anyways when introducing him to another person?

Shaking herself out of her thoughts as one of the rapidly diminishing light streams from the canopy glinted off the man's weapons, two rather pretty Heavyblade-like, err, blades with a texture and glitter like fine glass rested on the man's shoulders. Weapons that were pretty were one of two things in Sekai's not so expansive amount of experience; they were either there for decoration or they were meant to really do those they were wielded against serious harm.

A sinking sensation within her chest rose up to close around her throat as she watched Nemera out of the corner of one eye, the woman was tense, something she couldn't quite name in the woman's scarlet eyes as the sudden ping of a Flashmail hit and had her pausing in her observations to see what it was... and what it would mean. Eyes taking up half her face from shock and no small amount of sudden anxiety that iced her veins, she found herself reading and rereading the lines directed at her.

Our continued existence relies on them.

'But that's...!'

Nemera struck swift, speed a factor in the element of surprise as a path was divided for the four of them to run, to leave the others behind. The others bolted as instructed, Sekai chose to bring up the rear after sending a tense, half-frightened and clearly troubled look over her shoulder at Zan and the others, a small non-verbal plea for them to please stay alive.

To please, for the love of God; still be standing and alive when she got back.

Bow in hand as she frantically tried to keep everyone in sight, a sudden rush of adrenaline and a blur of the world around her signaled she'd just been hit with a boost of some kind from someone, most likely Takua-san as the only Wavemaster of the party, and felt her steps cover more ground than was normal. One thing. Only one thing she could do to help them, whirling around to face the way she'd left, she aimed one of her spells at the man on his horse, the target informing her of the name “Saol” as she let it fly, turned on her heel and raced after her collective party to go find the help promised to them.

“Dek Juka!”

No longer at home, she told herself as her arms pumped, all those times she'd been asked to join the track team in her mind as she remembered to pace herself, to even out her breathing and keep an eye on her surroundings. Crashing of the brush around her informed her of the pursuers, footsteps fumbling, nearly falling as something swept through her and caused her to choke in mid-attempt for breath. Fury swept through her as she jumped over a piece of broken branch that nearly tripped her and kept running. This was ridiculous, she needed some way to keep an eye on them up ahead and yet still be able to be in the back ranks where she was most useful.

Summon me.

Surprise and uncertainty rippled through her mind, Kira accepting the reason she was so unsure of herself and of the quiet order she'd given. It'd make sense in a moment, she told the girl softly, soothing her worry while the girl avoided another of the gigantic eagle monstrosities that liked to play 'dart through the body and laugh'. Was there really no other option but to use a part of the magic on her back to accomplish this?

After a bit more running, she watched as Baron and Shenmock whirled and began their counter assault on the creatures following them. Her eye twitched as she watched her HP slowly go down by one and two hit points from something that felt like a small pinprick, like a kitten kneading into someone's lap through jeans all over her back and head. She was starting to get annoyed with all of this crap and, fine, she was going to do it now.

Ignoring the chittering laughter and the sensation of being unable to breathe while the stupid Wingthings, she didn't care about names right now, snarled, screeched and raced through her body for shits and giggles, Sekai closed her eyes and dwindled all sound down to simply one thing; the shimmering bond between herself and the woman she'd connected with on so many levels, that which bound them together.

Darkness was all around her, a circle beneath her feet and the light, pale shade of green that was the color of her energy, of her life and soul swirling gently around her body as she lowered her arms, crossing them with her index fingers and thumbs touching one another. The edges of her thumbs brushed against her lower thighs and she pulled that aura around her, centering it as Kira manifested herself behind her. And wrapped her arms around the girl, hands meeting directly over the small Archer's heart and holding steady as light formed around her as well.

A glow the color of a frozen wave in the antarctic billowing like the sleeve of a kimono off of Kira's body as she rose into the air above the girl with her eyes closed. Ethereal, ghost-like viridian gently entwined with abyssal sapphire and the slow outline of a symbol etched itself behind the two of them. Branching out and unfurling, the symbol suddenly formed that of what was on the girl's back; two sets of eyes; one a softer golden-brown and the other a vibrant, determined amber, shot open as they returned to their bodies. One immediately said the name of a spell, healing light surrounding all of them and restoring the lost HP and began to fire off a barrage of arrows to try and drive off the enemy from their tails.

The other materialized as if she'd been invisible the entire time.

Fierce, territorial challenge escaped as a battle roar out of her mouth, spear in hand as she charged directly into the fray. Overskirt and pleated garment beneath flared out as she spun around, driving the spear between the woody ribs of one of the Thicket Creepers and pulling back out to slam the blade through a shoulder. Sharing Sekai's level had its advantages and disadvantages, she thought to herself with a flare of annoyance as it stumbled back and, with two more rough slashes to the shoulder and a savage thrust through the abdomen, and died quietly. Thirtreen levels or so of difference between herself and that damnable thing meant it went down fairly quickly, unlike some of those others she'd seen and- oh Merrows fuck the thing with her staff in the ass; she snarled.

The howling cackle of a hyena like laugh from one of the little camo-mutts pissed her off beyond belief as it circled around and did it again, the sensation of losing her breath brief but enough to drive her blood to a boil as she felt Sekai's distress from it happening to her as well. Her spear swung, smacking and digging a furrow into the ground as the mutt dodged it and let loose that little stupid mocking noise it had the first time. Her foot on the other hand, as it lunged to attack, neatly caught it in the throat and slammed it, stunned, to the ground while her spear followed up with a cleave that separated head from shoulders.

That oughta show that bitch who the alpha female was.

A scream from Sekai had her whirling around, ready to assault the source of it as she watched a thicket of brambles and other razor edged crap that the Wood element wielded as its weapon crash in and stab the girl... only to have Kira frown in puzzlement at the way it, somehow, didn't seem to do nearly as much damage as it should have. Something weird about that, she thought to herself as she skimmed the girl's data, looking for something other than the Ap Do that was about to wear off completely and raised an eyebrow at the small jewel on her right glove.

Wood Magic; no wonder her attack and defense against that element were improved.

Saving graces and small blessings as they say.

She thought to herself as she kept a look out for anything even remotely resembling help, dashing forward into the jungle like area looking around a little ways before a surge of panic, of fear and desperate anxiety hit her like that son of a bitch gorilla man thing she'd taken out thirty seconds before had. Kira scowled at the barbs littering the area and was careful not to step on one. She'd played a game of hide around the tree until it'd gotten pissed and let loose all at once before she'd managed to trick and kill the stubborn son of a bitch.

“My kingdom for a few dozen summon scrolls.”

The temperamental AI muttered sullenly to herself as she darted back through the groves, taking out some of the Wildwings and Wildlings as they came out of the woodwork and attacked every so often and arriving in time to overhear the conversation from Sekai's end.

"Please trust my judgement on this; if you knew the dangers of these fields, then I would be less reluctant to let you stay. But, as one who isn't experienced, I would be a great fool to allow such a thing."

She raised an eyebrow in surprise as she listened to the pleading note in the girl's voice. Part of her figured it out already but didn't butt in just yet; Kira wanted to see how well her little one would be able to handle such a thing.

"It's alright, Sekai. Shenmock'll stay here with me, and we'll keep them busy. You are really the only one who needs to go find the Gan Incarnation's help, but I don't want Talal to get involved in this part either so take her with you. Trust us, please."

Good point, better keep an eye on that one in the first place anyways, just in case the kid found himself in a hole he couldn't quite dig himself out of. Shenmock... those two were usually around one another now that she thought of it, the AI noted with a bit of amusement and wondered just how far she could go with teasing them about that before they'd get pissed. Something to definitely try when a more... appropriate time would call out to her. Shifting as she noticed Sekai ready to argue, to lose precious time in finding whatever allies there were out there for them, Kira spoke up, walking out from where she'd been listening with a stern look in her eyes and a note in her voice that clearly spoke of a refusal of any arguing in the matter.

"I'll stay behind; you take her and go on ahead."

Sekai still looked like she was about to protest, Kira gave her a sharp look and spoke, though her tone wasn't unkind.

"Get goin', you'll be fine and I'll keep in contact with you. That alright with you kid?"

Baron, as she read his name as, didn't seem to have too much of a problem with that and shrugged.

“I doubt I’ll deter you, so… welcome aboard, I suppose.”

Sekai gave the AI one last pleading look before resigning herself, using a Speed Charm on herself and on Talal, and directed them both further into the darkening woods as fast as she could go without completely passing the other girl.

Kira rolled her shoulders, cracking her back and stretching out before grinning like the proverbial Cheshire Cat and turned feral, glowing amber eyes on to the surge of enemies in front of them. She positioned her feet in a defensive stance, spear immediately out in front of her and the grip sure and confident. They got into their positions too and, as the next wave of monsters hit, they dispersed, immersing themselves in one hell of a battle for their lives... and hoping that Sekai and Talal could find that who they needed to find.


Come on little one, we believe in you; don't doubt yourself in a place like this.

“Come at me bitches, I'll put your sorry asses down!”

*

She didn't know how much longer they needed to run, she was searching, always looking for help, looking for something friendly in this place, that didn't give off the 'I want you dead' aura around it. Something with even a glimmer of intelligence, of cunning and keen observation in its eyes that didn't want to rip her or Talal to pieces. Those damn giggling things, they were almost like the children peeling themselves from the trees to chase her, to chase Ko and to try and kill them. A shiver went through her. Stupid things, stupid arrogant people and most of all, stupid, selfish and destructive greed. Small wonder certain AI didn't care much for the human race, there sure as hell wasn't a lot good to say about them when one looked at it.

'You have to be somewhere around here, Nemera-san wouldn't lie like that, if help by the Gan Incarnation, by something as magnificent as that Rue Dragon had been.... if it truly does exist then...'

Her chest seized, lungs screaming for air as she shook her head, caught in the stress of the moment and wishing for nothing more than for their allies to show up, so that she could bring them back and save them before it was too late.

'I'm small, I'm nowhere near as physically strong as anyone here and I don't have many truly good qualities about myself that could be of use... but,'

Her heart had shown her that she had hope even in a desolate situation. That everything had a bit of a silver lining to it and always something small and positive even in the worst of moments.

'I have hope that we'll find them. I must... believe...but,'

She was scared.

With a voice bordering on and thick with the refusal to shed tears, her fists clenched at her side and she screamed in a burst of frustration out into the wilderness.

“If you're out there, please keep your promise and help us! We can't do this on our own, please help wherever you are!”

Frustrated, she ended her tirade and, remembering that she still had a flashmail to respond to, pulled it up and responded while running.

Little... kid? Just how old were the Eventide Crescendo members in the first place? Sekai wondered, feeling her heart sink and a chill go down her spine at the very thought of... well, involving so many others when she didn't even realize how old they were. Not... not that age was particularly important but, it was... something she'd never even thought about. Never considered to be a factor in how hard people fought and how much they knew about life.

But... somehow, something about an age... it made it harder for her not to care, not to fight harder, not like she wouldn't have fought to keep Gyl-san safe even if he'd been there along side them... as she would the others if they would allow her to.

How young were they?

And would that mean... that they were in more danger because of it?

Continuous footsteps sounded getting louder and closer. A quick once over of the group and all were now on edge, especially Nemera and Zan. If they were meeting allies, it didn’t make sense that they would look agitated by the sounds, so logical deduction meant whatever was coming, was probably not friendly. Momentarily forgotten blades began instinctively turning in her palms, resetting her grip. Large bird type creatures began appearing from the direction of the sounds. Not a good sign considering she hadn’t picked up on any sounds from the air, which meant they were possibly going to have to face both land and air attacks if it came to a fight. Nervousness and a bit of panic were beginning to set into the young Twin Blade, but she was doing her best to not let it show. There were already more birds in the area than perhaps the total number of monsters she had seen in all of her quests combined, and this was just the front line of what sounded to be a massive group. Granted there were more members to the group she was with, but still.

At minimum there were a couple dozen of the creatures, probably more. Their flight brought them swiftly to the group wasting no time once they arrived to begin attacking the small party. Wildwings she would come to find out were similar to other birds of prey in their design. They were larger than the average birds of prey though, two to three times that of an eagle perhaps. Intently watching the events unfold, Talal gripped her blades even tighter. The birds began swooping down screeching an ear piercing sound. It was all she could do at times to not through her hands up to cover her ears. As they got closer, she could tell something was odd about them. Unless her eyes were playing tricks on her, they were or rather parts of them were disappearing when hit by the rays of the sun. She swung at the one coming straight towards her and…missed? A shout escaped from the only female Twin Blade, the bird passing right through the upper part of her body like a ghost. Pure shock sent her stumbling a couple of steps back before she was able to stabilize her stance. Similar screeches and shouts came from most of the other members due to similar attacks upon their person. The attacks seemed to be moving the party closer together.

A steady stream of monsters of various types continued to fill in the ranks, encompassing the group. Once the birds had had their fun, the next set of uglies were more like large dogs. They too wanted their turn to play. Running up and lunging at the nearest human target they could find. Some passing right through like the birds had; others remained solid. Talal unfortunate enough to be the unlucky target of one of the latter, was knocked hard to the ground taking a hit to her health. The only thing breaking her fall at all was the fact that she was knocked rather abruptly and ungracefully into the back of one of the two guys in the group she still didn‘t have a name for and now not being the proper time to worry about targeting. A glance noting it was the one that had been leaning against the wall back in the alley trying to blend in, or so she thought. Manners shining through even in the middle of a fight, she apologized with a quick ”Sorry” as if it were her fault for bumping into him. Her eyes back on the dog, or perhaps it was a wolf that barreled her over, she went to reposition herself in the huddle and was quickly greeted by a warning growl from the mutt in front of her; a warning not to get back up.

Backside now firmly planted in the soft ground, the group in a small huddle was quickly becoming the center of an ever forming circle of hideous looking creatures. There were Thicket Creepers that looked like walking human shaped bushes with glowing eyes. The Flayers, whose mere presence sent shivers up the spine of the teenage girl behind the FMD, donned hooded and tattered emerald cloaks that covered leathery fleshed bodies that seemed to glide across the ground; the overgrown nails being the perfect tool should they ever find themselves near a real world chalkboard. Trying to get the sound of the nails on the chalkboard out of her mind, the next round of uglies came into view, Trunca’s. There was no modern day animal or even horror movie monster that she could find to properly describe what she saw. They were big and burly and all of her senses were telling her to stay the heck away from them.

What Talal couldn’t understand was why in the Hell were they just sitting there and not moving? It seemed obvious that these were definitely not allies, so why were they just acting like sitting ducks? Was this their normal approach to things? Was their in your face attitude during the Mac Anu fight a fluke? Not that she had a plan as to where to run to or exactly how they would manage such a feat, but sitting there didn’t seem to be the right answer either. The strength just in pure numbers alone of the creatures surrounding them seemed to be dramatic overkill in comparison to the size of their small group. She kept her thoughts to herself knowing that the others were more familiar with these kinds of circumstances, and prayed that a plan would be voiced soon.

Noise from the rustling of leaves, twigs and other forest debris lowered in decibel as the ranks around them filled in and halted in place. From the low leveled vantage point the group was in, seeing much of anything beyond the first few rows of ranks was difficult. Squinting as if it would help her see through the mass of gathered forces around them, Talal thought she saw something out of the corner of her eye. Turning her head to see what it was, it was gone. But there it was again in her peripheral vision, yet there was nothing there and the laughter that sounded so close. Where were they and where was the laughter coming from? Great, I’m going crazy all ready. Takua had warned me about this. No, I refuse to believe that. I’m not crazy.

An apparent person, using the term lightly, of authority came into view atop a flaming steed. Both horse and rider glowed shades of green, either through the fire that was seemingly part of the horse, or the glowing crack’s that riddled the rider’s armor like veins under transparent skin. Was that the Dread Code they remarked about? Was he made partially of it? No, Dread Code was supposed to be orange-ish red. So what was with the green? Only able to see the hilts of the blades on his back, but they looked large enough to be of Heavy Blade size and he had two of them. Talal was making several mental notes of who and what to stay away from should the group ever decide to actually move when the man on top of the horse began to give a short speech. Honestly the only words that really stuck in her head was the mention of the Highers and the fact he was ‘going to kill every last one’ of them. The panic she had managed to subdue earlier rose instantly to the surface. The young girl wanted to run, escape, but knew it was not up to her to make the first move. She had made a silent oath to herself that she would stay and fight or offer whatever support she could and by God, that’s what she was going to do.

Finally, a message from Nemera with a plan. Some of them were running for help and others were going to stay and hold the fort for as long as they could and thankfully she was going to be a runner. Getting ready to grab a speed charm from her inventory, the Twin Blade noticed she was already affected by the status enhancement. Having been too busy watching the ranks poor in, she wasn’t sure who had given it to her, but had a really good idea; someone that was always thinking. Glancing at the Wavemaster as she readied to sprint off, she hoped the group that stayed behind would be okay. As much as she thought they should stay together as a group and fight, orders were orders and if she was going to be part of a clan that ran itself like an Army well, she had better get used to following them.

A swing of Nemera’s blade and its ending result to the enemy made Centrus’ remark about her make a lot more sense. Wasting no time, the Twin Blade bolted, her steps quickened by the Ap Do. Once past the ring of defense, Talal kept taking quick looks around her to see where the others were. Shenmock and Baron were up with her and Sekai was bringing up the rear. It seemed odd that such a small long range player would want to bring up the rear considering that would be who any pursuers would stomp on first. She had much to learn about the people she was now calling allies, but for now the only thing that mattered was that they were on her side. Having not taken the time to heal during the huddle, the Twin Blade cast a Repth on herself as she ran.

The Wildwings and Wildlings were first to begin pursuit. The large birds were doing their best to swoop down and slow the runners down. The crunching of leaves amongst the trees told of the Wildlings gaining ground on them. Scenarios began to run through her mind of tactics and where to go. Mostly there were trees that one could either run around, hide behind or possibly climb. All of which took time that they didn’t have. Also, there was the point from the flashmail about a Gan Incarnation. What or who exactly would that be? How was she supposed to know if she found one? Too many thoughts were now racing to the point of damn near confusing herself on what exactly she was supposed to be doing besides getting as far away from the battle as possible.

Thanks to the agility of her class, the speed enhancement and of course ducking around a tree at the last second, dodging most of the swoops by the large birds was managed with ease. Evasiveness quickly becoming a new ally to the young girl. The blades that were still gripped tightly in her hands, swung at anything that came close enough, but nine times out of ten simply cut through thin air; frustration beginning to take hold from not being able to do any damage aside from the occasional divot left in the nearest tree. The constant feeling that she could see something off to the side only to turn and see absolutely nothing wasn’t helping matters any either. All that aside, something was managing to hit her. The evidence of her slowly dropping health was more than confirmation of the fact.

The moment she turned to see where everyone was, Baron slid to a stop followed by Shenmock. Baron was starting to talk about staying behind and holding things off. She couldn’t believe her what her ears were hearing while her mouth yelled back at him trying to convince him it was a bad plan. Sekai shot past them still running and then stopped dead in her tracks. By her stance the only thing Talal could think she was doing was getting ready to pray or something. Not quite the right timing for that, the Twin Blade thought to herself. That’s when bright lights encircled the Archer followed by the forming of the shape of a woman from the lights. Wide-eyed at the site that was unfolding before her, Talal didn’t understand really what was going on. She had half a mind to attack whatever it was surrounding Sekai if it hadn’t been for the fact that whatever the figure was, seemed to be giving Sekai a hug of sorts.

As the lights died down, the figure became solid and turned just in time to take off and put her spear right through one of the Thicket Creepers. Alright, well as long as she’s on our side. Maybe saying I was sticking with her wasn‘t such a great idea. Weird things just appear out of thin air around her. To say the least, the young girl was a little freaked by the whole thing. Truly her time in The World thus far had not prepared her for sights such as the one that just took place. Looking around her, she got the feeling that shining lights that created allies was a lot better than what they were going to run into later. She was torn between staying with the Archer and running, or staying with Baron, someone she knew she could at least trust in battle, and fight.

Blue light surrounded the small group restoring some health to everyone as the young Archer turned and quickly released several arrows into the fray of the enemy that was gaining from behind. Talal ran, lunging into a Wildling that was attempting to sneak in from the side. Her Anshou swung and struck…hard. They were under the cover of the edge of the tree line where few rays of sun were making it through. Her hits were…hitting! She centered a duo of Gan Roms onto the Wildling. Swirling air filled with the earth element encompassed the creature and then the second one followed suit. The Wildling occupied for the moment, she pleaded with Baron one last time before simply letting go of the fight. Two thumbs up from him and a smile was all she got in return.

While Talal turned back to finish of the Wildling with a few well place strikes, Sekai had turned her attention to Baron and Shenmock, attempting to do the same thing Talal had done to no avail. Talal heard Baron’s last words about not wanting her involved in the fight. He was turning out just like the Wavemaster, not wanting to let her help. It was really irritating in a way. She wasn’t used to the concern and the protection being aimed in her direction. For now, she let it slide. She knew she was outnumbered in more ways than one on the matter.

A few parting words of agreement and an understanding that the new female ally would stay behind and help along with another speed enhancement, and the search for the Gan Incarnation was down to a party of two. The pair raced off in the original direction they were once headed. A quick look back only granted her the sight to see the trio doing their best to hold off the masses. She couldn’t say how far they ran without a sound between them. Talal wasn’t sure what to make of the small female Archer other than she had been put in charge of the group. Somehow Sekai and Nemera must know each other, but that wasn’t anything for the Twin Blade to ask about. The sound that was still around was that of the ever present laughter coming out of thin air as well as the random hits to their health had never ceased. Shadows still lurked in the corner of her vision when she chose to pay any attention to it. But doing so and trying to find them only led to more frustration.

She wanted to ask Sekai exactly what they were looking for. How could she help find them if she didn’t know what to look for? Just as she was going to speak up, Sekai screamed into the air for them to show themselves. There was an edge to her voice, one Talal heard clean and clear. One that told her now would not be the time to ask questions, amongst other things.

For both their sakes and for those that stayed behind, she hoped this Gan Incarnation, whatever or, whoever it was, would be found…and soon.

-Zan-

Listening to the thunderous approach of God-knows-what, Zan felt his anger begin to subside and be replaced by something he liked a hell of a lot less: fear. It was never something he’d admit to, but the Beast that usually paced back and forth under his skin seemed to be backed into a proverbial corner with terrified hackles raised. It sensed something in the oncoming hoard that the Lycan wasn't able to decipher in any amount of time to be helpful. Instead, drawing his Plasma Blade in a pose of mock defense, the lycanthrope could only hope to the Big Man Above that he got it together in time to save the group from whatever doom had sensed their intrusion. With his senses perked, Zan knew beyond the others just how many they were dealing with (vaguely, anyway) and it was far from small. Not since the mini-war in Mac Anu with the Freedom Fighters had the Heavy Blade come across such an opposition as this. Sure, their competition had been the Elites and the danger was undoubtedly heightened from what was happening right then, but he couldn’t help but make the comparison just the same. On one hand, Zan found himself respecting the Highers more than the Elites because of it. From his experiences with Nighthand the rest of the group, day-to-day Elite fields didn’t possess this kind of…military ability. Be it through arrogance or tactics unknown, they seemed to find no reason to. The Highers, however, appeared already aware of the threat the Eventide Crescendo finally stood to them.

Zan had picked a good time to join. Not.

As the group began to gather, forming a more tightly-knit combat unit, Zan knew that now wouldn’t be such a bad time to let himself slip skin to Garou. The Eventides were outnumbered, blatantly, and they could all use a little weight on their side of the scale. Still…something akin to embarrassment kept such a thing from taking place. Though he had had no shame in butchering the Knights of War back in the Water Capital, he had still been…human. Forcing them to see he was only partly so wasn’t something he was quite ready to do and, though silly, something about being just another face in the group was refreshing. The Freedom Fighters had a tendency to treat him like a tank, like a brutish meat shield to keep the big uglies distracted and taking heavy hits while they napped or pinged at it from another angle. Zan knew that he was good at taking point, that it shouldn’t be something that he had grown to resent, and for the most part he really hadn’t. That didn’t stop, however, the relief that came from the anonymity of the EC. Sure, his level or his uncanny ability to zip up walls might draw some eyes, but he wouldn’t have to endure ‘wolfie’ or other canine nicknames and snickers. So, that in mind, the player was going to wait until there was absolutely no other alternative. It might even make him stronger.

For a heartbeat, the world seemed to slow down, seemed to grow hollowed and empty; sounds more distant, images almost grayed and vacant, and scent stale and heavy. Zan wondered if this was part of it, if this was a slice of what happened when the army finally burst into the open. In truth, it wasn’t a bad tactic. Any afflicted by it would certainly have a much harder time fighting, if they could even fight at all. However, a questioning glance about revealed only Nul looking confused and withdrawn, a look that was turned back to the Lycan before they both understood. Whatever had almost happened on the rooftop in Mac Anu was beginning to occur all over again. When Zan realized that, the feeling of falling into himself was identified for a second time. It was like drowning in air, like breathing was only infecting him more and giving the Merged increased vigor to tear through his flesh and force itself into bloody being. And there the lycanthrope had been worried about something as trivial as the Garou. If he was wary of bringing that creature to the light, something more or less under his control, then something as sadistic and revolting as the Merged was entirely out of the question. Had to fight…had to hold on…had to punch his way back to the surface of his own mind…had to-

An emerald fireworks show of twisted birds acted like a smelling salt under his nose, jerking his consciousness into sudden clarity. For the second time, sheer chance had saved him. With no time to be overtly thankful or even ponder what exactly he was looking at, the Plasma Blade made its first arc towards one of the beasts - tagged Wildwings - not a second or two after Nemera attempted her own. Their screams, Zan unable to call them anything less, gnawed at his eardrums like nails on a chalkboard. Aside from the initial surprise of partly invisible beings in the first place, any remote strike of light obfuscating the part of the Wildwings it’d touch, the Lycan found himself faced with the stolid faith that his weapon had been completely useless. As if he had been striking out at air like a schizophrenic, the green-saturated thing lost tangibility for a second before going corporeal long enough to bowl over whoever had been unlucky enough to stand behind him. Again, in a weird kind of way, Zan found himself impressed with what the Highers had done. It had been some time since the werewolf had stood before a monster that had genuinely impressed him on more than an aesthetic value. The sons of a bitch were determined to make the Eventide Crescendo work for its victory. With the sea of foes on their way, what was a little phasing capability as the cherry atop the proverbial sundae?

When ground units of the same properties of the Wildwings, apparently called Wildlings, came sprinting from around the towering trees, Zan wasn’t sure if he was going to laugh or cry. To say that fighting an enemy that could will itself unable to be touched was difficult was an understatement. To say that fighting an entire brood of those enemies would be difficult was an absurdity that made the speaker absolutely certifiable. The general opinion amongst the Eventides seemed to agree with him, grunts of annoyance or angered heartbeats reaching his sensitive ears. The Wildlings wasted no time attempting, and unfortunately succeeding, in a jittery spring of pounces that ended up knocking everyone on their asses. Though it was hardly graceful, they managed to get themselves back to back, ensuring that at least one direction contained something akin to safety - a word Zan thought loosely. Nulus found himself colliding with the female Twin Blade, one who’s apology he met with a curl of his lips; a smile that wasn’t something of charm but more the ‘creepy-smile-from-guy-in-creepy-bar’ variety. Whether such a thing was intentional was up for debate. Next upon the list of things to piss him and Nulus off (the Shade’s thoughts flooded with obscenities that would make even a sailor shy away) were a few platoons of monsters that were constructed of the very stuff the forest around them offered. Called ‘Thicket Creepers’ - fittingly - they stared the group down with a robotic lack of emotion present on their flora expressions. It would almost be a shame to down such embodiments of Juk. Almost.

When the next monster archetype appeared, it brought an uneasy stir in both Zan and his companion. The Flayers had an eerie, though not entirely exact, resemblance to Nul in his natural shape. The skin wasn’t the same texture and the nails were discolored and shorter, but aside from that…well, it certainly brought a second crippling notion to the duo. With Zan unwilling to go Garou off the bat and now Nul fearing a transformation would confuse the group and bring harm to himself, it wasn’t entirely off to say they were both feeling, oh what was the word, screwed. The werewolf’s inhibitions about the Garou’s revelation so soon were fighting an inner struggle against what was needed for the EC to persist. If Nemera, someone that was supposed to be leading them, didn’t come up with a plan soon, he knew he had no choice. Still, it didn’t prevent him from holding onto that last string of hope like a downed shipman clutching onto a life raft. God willing, she wouldn’t let him down.

The sight of the Trunca was hardly a welcomed one, the overgrown porcupine/gorilla/hyena mutants as regretful to look at as they were apparently strong. The glisten to their barbs reeked of sickly sweet sap and the harsh, toxic scent of poison. Without a doubt, even touching them would result in the infection of that particular Status Effect. Still, individually, none of the monsters had yet to fill him with a sense of animal inferiority. That particular instinct was how the Lycan generally gauged the strength level of his foe next to his own. Zan was fairly positive they wouldn’t even be much of a general challenge. While it was true that their numbers might the situation fairly hopeless on the surface, the knowledge of his placement in the food chain made the situation a little less stressful. It wasn’t until the ground began to rumble beneath him that the werewolf’s one-on-one confidence began to falter. Primal fear was still lacking, which should have put him at ease, but plain old human fear of the unseen and the unknown prevented such from occurring. Pulling the Plasma Blade closer to him in his crouch, he contemplated stabbing it into the ground and hopefully taking out whatever lurked there. High pitched snickering and the sight of something zipping about in his peripherals whipped Zan’s head around a few times, hoping to catch a glimpse of what the hell it was. What he got, before the shapes again dispersed, were mental snapshots of tiny black globs and beady green eyes. Something told him, if Twilight and his level weren’t as strong in him as they were, he wouldn’t have even been able to get that much.

At long last, the twitching mass of monsters began to settle and slip aside, a visual that reminded Zan of the Eventides’ departure from Mac Anu. When Saol made his entrance like a king prancing along a red carpet, Gaea and the man’s blades made him flash back to Primal and the First Hub. The Ani room had had a similar individual (though his horse had been only half of one and the weapons had been much, much longer), but nowhere near the presence of the man that declared himself the leader of the ‘Wild Hunt.’ Words, at first, almost painted the horseback figure as regal, but the lycanthrope could see right through him. Although the aroma of Juk and power permeated Soal, Zan could also sense the taint within that ruined the element’s majesty like a butchered unicorn or a gutted angel. Both mental images - and the mental reminder of where he was - renewed the Lycan’s fury not a second before Nemera’s Flashmail made its way amongst them. It was, with the last of the message’s words read, that Saol made his move and the legion of creatures swarmed them like flies over a their soon-to-be corpses. Zan was far too busy to be impressed with how quickly Talal, Shenmock, Sekai and Baron reacted, but he was close enough to Takua at the start to momentarily gawk at the Ruem Wings and magical dynamism that erupted at the Wavemaster’s beck and call.

There was barely a moment to marvel before the lycanthrope was immersed in the thick of the action himself, Plasma Blade whipping about as Wildwings and Wildlings closed in around him. The ethereal creatures seemed to possess a fairly apt mastery over their tangibility skills and, thus, actually landing a hit was proving to be virtually impossible. Sure, his strategy of ‘keep swinging until shit dies’ wasn’t entirely genius, but logic still seemed to dictate that at least one should be getting- and there it went. In a strike that was all luck and no grace, a flimsy broadsword managed to run itself through the body of a giant bird, its body suddenly littered with electricity-induced spasms before it fluttered away in green binary. Zan allowed himself to enjoy that moment, that sight, but it was soon lost in the spam of misses that grated his teeth with mounting agitation. Neither the Beast nor the man within appreciated being made a fool by creatures obviously weaker. It was a problem that wouldn’t vacate, that only got worse, and eventually the Lycan could do nothing else but snarl out angry syllables.

“Stop!” Swing. “FREAKING!” Swing. “DOING THAT SHIT!” Swing. Miss.

At that point, the prospect of trying to down the sons of a bitch anymore hardly seemed worth the effort. When it came down to it, they could hardly do any sustaining damage to him, certainly not enough to continue to oppose them. Whether they noticed his sudden turn of heart or Saol decided the weaker monsters were best left used on weaker players, it wasn’t long after that mental turning point that the Wildwangs left him the fuck alone (for the most part, anyway). Nulus, on the other hand, seemed determine to widdle down their numbers and actively chased them down like a child chasing seagulls on the beach as they dispersed from him, empty, human fists flailing about and trying to hit something solid. Mild curses elevated to more vulgar levels with ‘SON OF A BITCH!’ starting them off after a wayward punch cracked itself against the solid trunk of a tree. Zan decided his partner was effectively useless for the duration of the scrimmage, his human form seeming to stunt his ability to fight worth a damn.

Seeming to follow the same progression of monster revelations, the next batch that surrounded him were a brood of Thicket Creepers. Mustering the proper anger to fight them would have been easier if Zan had had even the vaguest expressions to react to. As it stood, he couldn’t tell if the freaks were sad or pissed or orgasmic as his Plasma Blade whistled this way and that, hacking them down from bramble golems into bursts of jade code almost as quickly as they were replacing themselves. When it came down to it, one-on-one, the Heavy Blade was fairly confident in his ability to take down any of them aside from Saol. It was their ability to do that, to constantly replace their numbers exponentially, that would beat the Eventides if they didn’t figure out a solution. Or, perhaps more specifically, if Sekai and her team didn’t find what the Gan Incarnation had apparently promised them. Knowing the Archer, she was aware of the importance of her task and whimpering in the face of it. Oh, she’d do it, and probably succeed, but there would be no shortage of the phobia induced when people relied too much on her.

Come on, Sekai. You can do this. Anyyy day now…

A forceful hand on the back of Nul’s coat bundled itself into a fist and yanked him away from the translucent beasts and the Thicket Creepers in turn until he had reached an open patch of forest undisturbed by combat at its edge. It was getting harder, second by second, to even see Takua, Exangelus, Sidhe or Nemera in the fray. It was like watching a World War battle from the sidelines. As if seeking to accompany that metaphor, Zan was hardly given a second to lecture his companion about being a moron when Juk spells of as much caliber as they were number began to erupt around him like mortar. The Lycan was forced to grit his way through a streamlined run with Nul, wooden shards raking him like broken glass and the occasional jagged piece of bark requiring a quick removal. Zan managed to free himself from the focal point of the elemental blasts, but both his class and his ‘hack’ had him suffering from the magical trauma his body had been forced to endure. To say he was stumbling out would have been sugar-coating it. His heart found itself nearly leaping out of his chest when a ghostly figure suddenly seemed to appear from amidst a part gap in bodies and his levied weapon paused only when he realized it was Takua.

A tossed Resurrect coupled with a tackle that brought both players down, the werewolf apparently too weak to hold himself up any longer without some sort of healing. Though the smaller cuts were stitching themselves with relatively normal efficiency, it was some of the more detrimental stab wounds that seemed to be taking their time. Even those, at Zan’s level and time of exposure to his Twilight, would have normally patched up at a decent rate, but the magical ‘taint’ they possessed was making the process…lag. An apology was mumbled to the Wavemaster before he turned on his side and spit a glob of blood to the leaf-decorated soil. The thought of switching out armor as he stiffly struggled to his knees was out of the question, so it was a couple of Health Drinks that renewed his ability to think properly, the tangy liquid sliding down his throat like silky salvation. God bless video games. Able to move again and realizing - Takua aside - he was alone, Zan was on his feet at the speed of thought and jerking his glance over the expanse of their war zone. When his gaze finally happened upon the then-human Shade, Nul was hardly moving and his body pulsed with an urgent, critical red. Though his Twin Blade stats made him more enduring in the face of magic, the fact that he hadn’t gotten out of the storm of who-knows-how-many spells certainly took its toll. The fact that he was still alive was a testament to the Twin Blade class (and, of course, a level that matched Zan’s).

Rather than heal him, the Lycan recalled Nulus back into his obsidian vambraces that had him disappearing into thin air, the closed eyes snapping open with a dull green pulse. Until Zan’s partner could really fight, could be himself, he’d only be doing himself harm by being out. The werewolf had to weave his way through distracted monsters to find his Plasma Blade (having apparently lost it in the chaos of the Juk bombardment), but a Flayer, hood partially pulled because of momentum or whatever the hell it was, attempted to halt his mission. All it received in the process was a fist slugged into its ugly fucking face that dissipated it into oblivion.

“Bitch.” Zan spat, fingers wrapped around the hilt of his sword.

The Trunca, deciding to be next on his hit list, didn’t waste time in giving him a chance to use it. Pulling a one-eighty, Zan ducked under a meaty right hook and sank the oddly-shaped steel deep into the things heart, through its spine, and out its back. A wet, slushing sound followed its removal and immediate follow up along the neck of a second creature, blood momentarily spurting from the decapitation before the monster simply was no more. The over almost overabundant carnage continued on with the beasts until Zan found himself growing tired of hefting the Plasma Blade around. His stamina still had a rather large reservoir to burn through, but it was obvious the sword itself wasn’t needed. The Lycan’s level made fists not only quicker, but just as mighty. An alert in his ear of the hiss of big knuckles through the air behind him had the Heavy Blade again turning in the exact opposite direction he had been facing. If Zan were a dozen or so levels lower, the tactic might have been successful. Rather than duck beneath the punch this time, however, the player’s fist collided with the one much larger than his own. Visual physics were defied as the Trunca’s bones snapped and folded the monster’s arm like an accordion. The poison that entered his system was laughed at by his blood and metabolized just as soon as it had been there. A swift kick to its windpipe ended its horrendous cries and a follow up with the other leg turned its neck into dust like the Knights of War had been privy to back in Mac Anu. It didn’t matter though, nearly twenty of the motherfuckers had moved in to take its place.

A flip of the Ninja Anklet into his active inventory and the overwhelmed Heavy Blade called out one of his newer spells. “BiVak Rom!”

The furious tornado of spinning flame and snapping heat that gusted into existence easily outshined its predecessor as the gathered Trunca choked on the damage and the agony that ended their lives. Not all had been caught in it, of course, but the remaining had dispersed from its proximity and beyond and given Zan a renewed chance to figure out his next move. Well, so the plan had been constructed before a thud under his feet knocked him square on his ass. When the worm’s mouth burst out from the ground around him, the lycanthrope’s words were snuffed in darkness before they could ever be completed.

“Oh fuck m-”

The gastric something that began to eat away at his flesh was only given a second to do so before Zan punched his way out with the occasional claw-tipped finger making the tears that much bigger. The corpse was slouched off a moment before it dissolved, but duo of Burrow Worms sifted out from the earth in its stead. One accidentally feasted on a small trail mix of Creepers and Flayers, but the other actually needed to be avoided in a barrel roll that the werewolf hadn’t remembered doing in some time. With the Worm’s thick, gluttonous body now open for the raping, Zan proceeded to slam his fists into the thing again and again, each hit popping a slime-exploding hole in the creature like a jackhammer through hot butter until it too was nothingness. The coconut-clap of hooves behind him gave the smug Lycan only a sliver of time to turn before one of the glossy weapons cleaved a vertical line from his belly button all the way through his lower jaw and tossed him back like he was nothing. Half a health bar gone - half - was immediately the least of Zan’s worries. Such worries were mostly comprised of tortured inner screaming (screaming that sounded aloud like volume-injected gurgles) and the realization that spells couldn’t be uttered. The fact that he had been opened up like a frog in biology class in a single swipe seemed to be making navigating the inner-item menu too impossibly hectic, the edge of his vision beginning to darken as even his metabolism fumbled with putting humpty dumpty back together again. All he could do was flex his fingers around the air at his sides, writhe in panic as the second sword descended to finish him off…

…and pray the Archer didn’t screw up.

As Exangelus stood in his murky silence, as players revealed their doubts and wishes to the Long Arm Raquar, he began to look for the wandering gazes of the people around him. There was always, and he assumed there always would be, a certain gauging of character from the eyes of individuals unknown to him. Most of the players he observed, though their eyes did not meet, held within them honest cores; or, for what he could tell, they were very skilled at concealing all that they thought and pondered beneath their relative quiet. The Long Arm that answered questions seemed to hold no secrets from the other players as he revealed to them everything they needed to know – his eyes were stern and sincere. He did notice, however, that the eyes of the Heavy Blade who stood atop the crates were examining the party, slipping strands of hunting curiosity into the crevices beneath, behind, and between every one of them. Her eyes were not absently scoping, but deeply questioning, contemplating, inquisitive, like she wanted to know more about their individuality, about all their pasts and futures, these haunting eyes that held more emotion and reality than any player’s eyes he had sense seen playing this game. Exangelus observed her for only a few seconds, not caring to make eye contact with her, not wanting to introduce himself as the kind of player who thought to over-analyze his supposed comrades, not wanting to strip himself of any potential relationship with this person in the future that may fall to nothingness under his scrutinizing gaze. He averted his eyes, to the calm pattern of swirling cobblestone beneath his feet, and allowed himself a short, yet peaceful contemplation of all his options and approaches. He stretched the muscles in his right hand, arms still crossed on his chest, curling them over his left bicep, thinking with very, very mild urgency.

It was a couple of long moments after most questions had died down, when the players began conversing quietly and calmly amongst themselves, that Exangelus observed from the corner of his wandering eye a quick, alien motion, fleeting in its unique oddity; an ascending flutter of black and green, swaying in a dry wind, flurrying out as if in tail. He could have sworn he had seen a person climb the wall just then, but when he focused his attention to the spot, he just saw a man standing there. There was a momentary hesitation as the thought of there once being two figures standing against the far wall crossed his mind, but it couldn’t have been true. No golden rings had arrived to chariot any player away, the person had not run – the player could not have escaped around the farthest corner in the time it took Exangelus to turn his head. It was curious, but, in its own respect, that’s all it was. The moment passed, and the thought trickled away like cold water through the gaps in your fingers, until it was nothing more than a cold, useless reminder of unnecessary senses. Exangelus found himself staring at the man now leaning inconspicuously against the spot on the wall that he had thought harbored two men, thinking to himself how odd a fellow might have shown up to this meeting without being interested in what the Long Arm or the female Heavy Blade had to say. He stood still, eyes fixed vacantly on nothing in particular, as if he was holding a spot for someone in a cuing line. His attire reminded Exangelus of a character he had seen in a Yakuza-era Japanese film, with the leather jacket and symbol printed on the front of his dark shirt, slicked hair and nonchalant stance. There was a very certain mystery about him, an engaging kind of allure that made Exangelus wonder what his intentions were, serving at this congregation. But, as before, the thought seemed only to invade the clarity of his senses for a moment, and before he really recognized it, any notion of Japanese subculture had passed into drab silence. He was again alone with his thoughts, but he found, it would not be for long.

Raquar, apparently done with his conversations, has stood and began to walk back in the direction he had come from, returning to whichever group he belonged to. It was at this point the Heavy Blade atop the crates returned her full concentration to the attentive crowd before her. She spoke calmly, but not without a singeing edge of exigency. Her points were clear, and she did not try to conceal any of the events that they were sure to encounter – her plan was simple, and her appointed leaders said nothing as they were each trained with vital assignments. Two groups were pointed out and assigned followers, Exangelus finding himself in the final group, with the Wavemaster closest to him and the white-clad Long Arm. There was a brief pause as she seemed to make one final scope of the group. Exangelus almost choked out a laugh at the stark irony of her next comment, but the nature of the situation and his relative obliviousness to all the people around him held it back.

“Now would be good.”

Suddenly, motion erupted around him, and Exangelus was following the Wavemaster, this Takua, and his other group ally, designated Shenmock. It was lucky for them that his leader seemed to know where he was going (and perhaps it was not even luck), and they traced another odd variant of paths all the way back to the newer parts of the city. The cobbles were still intact and random obstructions were cleared. The voices of other players began to filter in from the general direction of the city. One more corner and Exangelus found himself exposed again to the trivial pleasantries of the common World, players acting just as the mass they represented always would, and if anything, there seemed to be even more of them. It was an odd feeling, to suddenly feel yourself confined within the space you had shared with all of these people less than a half an hour ago, and truthfully, Exangelus didn’t like it. He supposed, though, that he was not meant to.

They made their way across the span of minor bridges that linked the outer alleyways to the left-central hub of traffic, before Exangelus started noticing the eyes. At first, only a slant pair glanced in their direction. Further in, two or more players in groups would turn their heads and stare. There was a short wave of anxiety as Ex spotted the eyes of a group of four Knights of War flow over his group, jittery movements and hesitant adjustments of position to get a clearer look at them seeming to draw even more civilian attention. They rounded the main terrace and the Chaos Gate came into sight, not far away but oh so unreachable behind the sea of players. Exangelus saw, without the first shadow of a doubt, Knights emerging from their posts across the main bridge and central structures to drift in their general direction. All three groups had passed between the thresholds of stone that would lead them straight into the gaping mouth of the Gate, but with every passing second, that unheard message, that unseen signal, seemed to attract more and more attention from the players around them. By the time they had come within acceptable distance of the Chaos Gate to sprint and effectively make it to their field, the soft swoon of a FlashMail entering his inbox dissuaded any hasty actions. He assumed that when he opened the message, directions for getting the hell out of dodge would be enclosed, and guidelines for the field would be laid out in some simple, effective outline. Instead, all the security he had hoped for suddenly vanished; all the anxiety and tension came crashing into him like bull auroch. The names of all the players around him suddenly solidified and their appearances become vitally apparent – everything they were and the standards they all carried with their names readied themselves like cocked firearms around them. They were revealed, open, confiscated. There was, again, that brief and fleeting moment of restlessness, that calm period of immaculate realization, stretched eternally over the course of a few seconds, where all that was good and normal in their lives as citizens of The World was suddenly broadsided by a metaphorical charter bus; everything went to hell in that instant, and it hit him like a kick to the balls.

Oh… fuck.

“Eventides!”

“Shit, they’re over there!”

“Take them out, go, go!”

Exangelus didn’t think. A mental image of every similarly adorned Knight rushing forward from their locations, of the rest of the uninvolved players dodging irritably out of the way, embedded itself into his retinas. Exangelus found himself drawn unconsciously to the front of the group, having located every Knight in the straightaway leading to the central square of the city as he had made his way down, he felt in some way indebted to front his offensive in an immediate, effective fashion. His hands didn’t even drift to his blades as the first of a wave of Knights rushed forward, longsword raised clumsily above his head, crying the maniacal cry of indoctrination. Everything else became silent as the Knight approached. Exangelus slid his left leg out in front of himself, slightly to the left of the oncoming soldier, and swiveled his right arm down, widening it to its full breadth. In one fluid motion, he thrust himself forward, completely into and in front of the attacking Knight, and threw his right fist out behind his head, slamming his armor-plated elbow devastatingly into the unguarded chin of the Knight. His whole weight thrown forward would have been enough to stop the Knight’s path forward, and as the familiar outer-rotary of the rasmus bone shattered in the Knight’s jaw, his kinetic force was thrown back at him threefold, his neck snapping back in such a way unnatural to the human anatomy. His feet lifted from the ground as his top end cascaded backwards, throwing him onto his back, inertia carrying the Knight’s midsection adjacent to Exangelus’s feet, half-plate armor slamming him into the ground with enough force to knock the wind out of him. Unconscious and unable to open his mouth or force a breath from his lips, there would be no scream. Exangelus drew his left blade with his right hand, and squatted down to one knee, throwing the full force of gravity and rotational torsion into the Knight, his blade crashing easily into the gap between chestplate and clavicle skirts. He felt the tip of his blade strike hard stone beneath the Knight. Exangelus sat there on one knee for a moment, staring at the Knight, and the realization that he could never return to the normal ways of a player in The World washed over him. Those whom he associated himself with were deemed criminal; the killing he had just committed was illegal. He was exempted from the rights a regular player, and as he felt the rest of the Eventide Crescendo rush past him in spectacular frenzy, he felt again truly confined. He was trapped with these people, whoever they really were, until he was eliminated and erased from record books. These people would be his foundation and his allies, his friends and his home. He stood back up to stance, and cast his gaze over the conflict emerging in front of him.

It would be good to finally be fighting for something again.

Action exploded around him in a flurry of weapons and spells, his senses coming back to him with renewed vigor and reason. A group of Knights were scattered by a Gan spell behind him and to his right, and one of them, beaten and barely alive, was thrown against the wall, dull thwack of his head on the stone signaling the immediate end of him. Exangelus targeted the nearest assailant, a female Long Arm, for his next encounter. The Knight threw a wide sweep of her blade out, switching her stance forward as she did. Exangelus shuffled forward and drew his right blade from its sheath with his free left hand, placing the flat side solidly and quickly against his forearm as he thrust it outwards, blocking the rotation of the spear at its weaker point nearer to its fulcrum, using the blunt distributing force of the blade to reduce any damage to him to practically nothing. He threw his forearm out, dislodging the Knight from her place in the encounter, and swiveled forward and struck her horizontally across the chest with his blade. The leather stripped easily beneath the toned blade of his Mukuro, and blood spilled, hot, out onto her stomach and lower abdomen. Unable to recover in the short time after the attack, the Knight stood helplessly as Exangelus stepped forward and stabbed her right beneath and up into the ribcage, ending her struggle. She slumped down and let way to another Knight, another Blademaster, who had already begun the swing of his blade. Exangelus rotated and parried it with his left blade, sending the Knight sprawling sideways, and Exangelus turned again and struck with his right blade, drawing it at an acute angle tangent to the Knight’s relative position to Exangelus, effectively gutting him and sending him down to his knees, defeated. There were no targets attacking him, and so, Exangelus took the initiative and approached one of the Knights engaged with another member of the Eventides, when he was suddenly struck in the back by an explosive Vak spell, making him collapse forward onto a knee to maintain upright position. A flare of anger pooled over into Ex’s psyche, and when he turned and saw a lightly-armored Wavemaster Knight recovering from the casting of his spell, he reached into his own spell inventory and threw a Rue Kruz right back at the mage. The air blurred as physical laws were temporarily ignored, summoning the jagged and deadly fists of ice into being. They reared and slammed forward into the magic caster, throwing him on his back. Although he didn’t expect the spell to outright kill the Knight, it had effectively removed him from combat. The satisfying Ooof! that escaped the Wavemaster’s lips as he was thrown backwards and into the opposite wall was enough to quell the minor surge of anger. Exangelus refocused on the area immediately around him and found that, just in time, he had allocated enough rotation to barely dodge a forceful swing from a Heavy Axe Knight of War. The axe struck the ground not three inches from the tip of Exangelus’s boot, scraping on the stone as the Knight pulled his weapon back up. Using the enemy’s recovery period to his advantage, Ex threw his shoulder into the Heavy Axe, who staggered backwards and into the wall, barely holding his massive weapon. Without any area to wind up and gather inertia for his strikes, the Knight was reduced to a sitting duck with mediocre defense. Exangelus made effective use of his space and, as his enemy tried to lift his axe, slashed the auxillary tendon between the Knight’s bicep and forearm, causing his grip to all but release on his weapon as he cried out in pain. Exangelus curled his fingers back and struck the area he had just sliced with the heel of his palm, removing the axe from his enemy’s grasp. Pinned against the wall and without a weapon, the Knight stood no chance. Exangelus combined both of his blades into a two-handed, two-pronged strike, drawing his weight around and slamming both blades into the concave section of armor on the Heavy Axe’s midsection, severely denting the armor and staggering him. Another strike like the first landed, directly in the center of the depression, and both blades sliced into the armor and into the soft latissimus tissue of the Knight’s torso. One hard, dragging motion later, the Knight was on the floor, slumped and removed from battle. Somewhere behind him, a massive eschewing of Ani energy blasted into a group of Knights, scattering them like buckshot from a shotgun shell. Still against the wall, Exangelus stepped back and drew in another unsuspecting Knight from the horde, this one a Heavy Blade, and rushed him full-on, not allowing his enemy to ready an attack. He struck, a vertical attack across the chest, with only minor results as the thick studded leather chestplate absorbed most of the impact and slash damage. He swiveled and struck again, across the same area, creating a slightly deeper, bloodier cross of wounds. For the attacks, the Knight recoiled a respectably small amount, and thrust an elbow forward, attempting to strike Exangelus in the nose, in order to deliver a painful follow-up strike. It missed, surprising as it was, and struck Exangelus in the clavicle instead. For a glancing shot, it hit decently hard, and it forced Exangelus to re-distribute his weight. The general effect of the Knight’s attack failed, however, as Ex struck with his fist to the exposed area of flesh on his midsection, making the Knight cringe. One solid kick forward, again to the same spot, sent the Heavy Blade sprawling into the wall, barely standing as he tried to recover from the forceful kick.

Before Exangelus could continue, though, an interrupting thought of impeding danger caught him. Maybe it was the calls of authority rising over the shouts of battle, maybe it was the sea of parting players and soldiers away in the distance, and maybe it was just gut instinct – experience told him it was more likely a combination of the three. It was easy to discern the new figure’s position, but from all the action and activity beyond the fight, it rendered a visual on the approaching individual nearly impossible. Exangelus was trying to squint over the crowd, trying to get an idea of what presence could make his way Red Sea across the field of battle, when he remembered his current engagement. He looked back at his Heavy Blade, who was just getting up and barely maintaining balance against the wall. He reared back, distributing his weight to his back foot and rotating his center of gravity violently, letting his right leg come up and swing viciously around, connecting a heavy roundhouse with the chin of the Heavy Blade, slamming him back into the wall and down onto the ground. After the Knight hit the floor, Exangelus began to hear the familiar sounds of Chaos ports warping out his teammates, and saw the rest of the Knights retreating safely out of reach of all but the Eventide’s spell casters, who were also backing off. In the few seconds he remained in Mac Anu, the Knights of War had officially backed down, their losses tremendous, offering way to the now so-close revealing of this presence that parted them like a sharpened knife through flesh. Exangelus sheathed his blades and allowed himself one more breath before the golden rings took him.

He never got a look at the figure in the crowd.

He floated, a few seconds of deliberation in cyberspace as they were manually transferred to an out-of-sever field, assumingly one of those ‘prison fields’ that Raquar had mentioned. Bits of data leaked from the surrounding blackness on occasion, appearing a vanishing as quickly as they had come. For a moment the visual ticked, and then, serene placidity among the blackness.

~

From every conceivable distance there sprouted mammoth tree trunks of insurmountable enormity, rising into the empty sky as if to snare the gods with their branches’ reaching, defiling fingers. Their heartveins, clotted to the ancient bark like cancers on a superannuated old man, spiraled up along their lengths in arcs of gray fungus and lichen. Their roots crashed into the ground around them like colossal talons, gripping the earth with supreme vindication and anger – it would take nothing short of the gods their branches sought to ground to remove them from the soil, old as time and just as stubborn. They grew for what could have been a thousand miles in every direction, undaunted by the presence of men and undisturbed from their eternal, stoic slumber. The numberless leaves that hung rigid from the tip of every twig obscured the sky above with their infinite presence, subtle light filtering down in beams of warm, varying strength that freckled the mossy forest floor with waves of unfocused color. Among the lowest of creations, the men stood with all manner of chaparral and briar, nettle and proud fern, growing up and around the cool, rich loam on every standing deprecé protruding defiantly from the ground. The whole of the weald was breathtaking in its size and stature, unafraid of the plagues of man, wise in their ageless weatherment. It stood around them, heedless and powerful.

Exangelus found himself standing amongst his new brethren, hands twitching against some alien emotion. Was it anxiety? Anticipation? Fear? The muscle above his left pinky twitched, and twitched, and twitched again, until he tightened the muscle and halted the subconscious cry. There was a brief period where the party subjected themselves to the majesty of their surroundings, absorbing the sight and feel of it like children watching fireworks for the very first time. Exangelus noticed, all around him, there seemed to be signs of immeasurable life, of every form from the nitrogen-forming bacteria in the ground beneath him to the chirping insects in the trees, the rattle of a woodpecker or the low of some large game animal far in the distance. There were ostentatious balls of what looked like pure emerald light bouncing this way and that, calmly arcing over their heads and lazily flanking away from the party, only to reunite and scatter between the trees around them. They provided a stark contrast to the otherwise dull gray light that filled the space between them and the falling blades of light that managed to tackle through the canopy above. A vivacious little sprite lurked cautiously near to the party, and after Exangelus’s eyes met with the wink of light, it sped away, zig and zag, behind a looming stand of foliage. He could not tell for sure what this place was made of, what fueled it, what gave it this indelible and sacrosanct life force – but it was obvious that this place, if not any other place in The World, was all that was representative of elemental wood – this was the realm of Juk, and it would not be denied.

Those few sacred seconds of observation and innocent welcoming were scrubbed off to insidious pumice as the calm sounds of forest began to fade around them. The air became clogged with heat and presence, no longer clear and easy and pure – what little light there was seemed to be pulled outward, away from them, to some omnipresent, threatening force. There began a sound, faint at first but rising in volume, and following, in force, as the very ground beneath him began to pound and give under the weight of their impending confrontation. The group of warriors could do naught but stand and wait. Sounds of every threatening designation flowed in from all sides, rising from the passing of a frigid brook to the crushing torrents of a mighty river, the sounds invading their security and shredding it. There was suddenly very distinct movements in the trees, audible agonizingly just out of direct sight, just out of any other sensory recognition. The forest plumage seemed to rattle and writhe, and abruptly, their formation went spiraling to hell.

Ethereal visages burst from the flora, rushing down past their posts to fly in menacing arcs around them, each apparition swooping in and crying out a shattering call of authority, splitting the otherwise relative silence asunder. They swarmed in, as thunderous stamping and what could now easily be discerned as footsteps charged in from the unseen wilderness. They seemed to bleed into the cascading light that fell, charged with the only warmth that now invaded the cold and dangerous forest floor, and lose their individual forms for the instant they passed underneath. As soon as they would resurface on the far side of a pillar of light, they’d reform into their milky, transparent-green normality. As they circled, Exangelus caught glimpses of their forms, differing slightly from predator to predator, but following the same basic pattern of construction: they were huge birds, nay, mammoth birds of prey, with small heads and gruesomely curled talons and beaks, wingspans no less than twelve feet across on the smaller birds, and on the enemies that gave distinct callouts to larger birds like eagles or vultures, as much as twenty. Before any reasonable action could be executed to defend, or at least think of a defense, another gross flood of motion erupted from the bush, and even more plasmatic ephemeral beings charged out around the group, surrounding them and drawing in more and more numbers as they went. These new forms seemed to stride on what could have been four legs, with thick torsos and long, angular faces that leered up at them with unbreakable resolve. Their movements mimicked those of injured wolves, and for a moment, Exangelus thought that they could have been just that – but, upon a fleeting moment of closer examination, there was something about them that separated them from any other animal he had seen, different than anything he would have thought could have lived and breathed and felt – they were too different, too alien to be anything less than evil.

Without warning, some of the buzzards swooped in and charged the party. The higher-leveled players took up immediate and effective counter-attacks, the head female Heavy Blade behind him, and a new player he had yet to see in front of him. Their blades came up and struck the creatures head-on – and for some reason, did absolutely nothing at all. The giant birds came hurtling from the sky, drunken with resolve, and flew right through their solid line of defense that was the Heavy Blades leading them. Exangelus had a very brief, painful moment of realization as the creatures passed through the Heavy Blade in front of him, and came rushing straight into their scrambled players. Expecting foolishly for a second that they’d fly right through him as well, Exangelus braced himself very casually, and was promptly thrown on his ass after being carried a few feet through the air by the winged monstrosities, along with the players standing around him. He struck the soft ground surprisingly hard, knocking the back of his head into the dirt before scrambling backwards on his side, trying to regain his stance, trying to suck in the breath that had been knocked from him. Another sudden blur of color washed through him, and he saw the four-legged monsters splice into being in front of him, the group of players behind him thudding hard to the ground. It seemed now that the whole of the team was shrunken to the ground in hesitation and what might have been mild fear. Wasting no time, he sprung back to his feet and tore his blades from their sheathes, drawing them protectively around himself. Everyone around him readied themselves instantly if they hadn’t before, and in reaction to the group recoil, the phantoms around them seemed to draw in closer, the wolf-like ones – called Wildlings, as he now saw – rushing back and forth threateningly, snapping their mystic jaws. Standing now, he caught first sight of what he had thought was simply the surrounding forest around him, walking towards the party, farther away from them than the Wildlings. They stood tall and thick, like humans deathly bound in vines and brambles and underbrush, limbs substantially broad but not massive, fingers curling to sharp points of wood and anger. Their heads were oblong but humanoidly positioned, harsh knots of everything that made the coppice what it was, bound together behind cold, menacing eyes that glowed that same ethereal Juk green as the creatures around them. Their expressions, if they could bear them, were remorseless and void of emotion. Their names, hanging threateningly above their heads, read Thicket Creeper. This one lick of knowledge about the new foe did little to quell Exangelus’s trepidation. There were more figures scattered about the horde, all differing in size and shape and number, but the sudden halt of sound around him made his train of observation come to a crying halt.

There was a second of hoof beats that he hadn’t noticed before, coming on fast and hard, but slowing as they drew nearer. The activity of foes around him slowed to near submission as a portion of the enemies down what could arguably be called the main ‘path’ began to part in line, letting way for another to come through. Exangelus was reminded briefly of the fight he had just escaped from, watching with expectation as the figure parting the Knights drew so desperately near. But this was not like Mac Anu, and they would not get off so easily – the figure came through the crowd, high on his steed of green fire, without a hint of hesitation.

The titan of Juk wore fully-laden armor made out of the richest brown bark, strapped unbreakably around the man’s body, which seemed also to be made from a lighter, thinner bark, comparable to snakewood in consistency. In every crevice that split the bark glowed a thick aura of that same unearthly green, issuing from the warrior like it was trying to burst through him from the core. On the larger plates of bark armor grew any of various layering fungi, dark green and red lichen that seemed fused to the armor like nails protruding from an old two-by-four. Dark vines seemed to bind the armor down to the unseen core of the figure, and at the edges grew leaves that resembled ivy those of ivy vines. Wherein the ivy of the forest would grow in undisturbed, ancient pockets of woodland, along the trees and floor and everything that thought to stand still for too long, this ivy seemed prone to grow in the liveliest, most dangerous place of all. The man stopped and shifted his weight on his warhorse, settling a hand on one of two massive blades strapped to his back, head swiveling in a quick observative arc. His helmet was darkly adorned with spiraling horns curling out from the sides, and like a mature alpha ram, they dipped sideways at the ends, scuffed and chipped but sharp and completely solid. Another pair of horns cut out of the top of the helm and stretched upwards, ending in powerful spear-points. His face was obscured, but Exangelus didn’t mind it – he didn’t think he wanted to see the face of this foe. His fingers curled around the handle of the blade strapped to his back, and he spoke out to them, loud, clear, and powerful.

“You are trespassing in the Wild Hunt’s territory. By command of the Highers, I order you to vacate of fall under our might.” His voice rang proudly through the clear space of the woods, as if it were flowing more effectively through his domain, amplified by the elemental power that he obviously exemplified around him. He paused for a moment, and with a thoughtful cast of his gaze sideways, he addressed them again, and this time, his voice sounded much less like a military general and more like a cocky twenty-something with a conviction to prove. “Oh, who am I kidding? We both know I’m going to kill every last one of you.” He let out a short, harsh grunt of a laugh. “How long did you believe you could trounce around in my masters’ fields before we stopped pitching in the minors, mm?” He drew his blades, first the one his hand was on, and with his free hand the second, and held them out to his sides. The swords were massive, each easily the size of a standard Heavy Blade weapon, and he wielded them like they were longswords. His posture rose up and his chest puffed out, as his demeanor returned to cold business, his voice turning chastising very quickly. “Simpletons. Sob out your last prayers.”

Exangelus held his breath. He waited for the felling charge. He could feel the horde rushing in and crushing them. But, instead of the madness of battle, he received a FlashMail in the midst of his angst, from Nemera. He opened it and read it quickly, noting the salient subject title. He read the names listed and stood there for a moment, feeling like he was holding a losing lottery ticket. He was to stay back and defend against this onslaught of creation. Talal, Shenmock, Baron, and Sekai were going to run, and the rest were going to stay and make sure they got away safely. He had played this lottery, and his stub came up one digit off.

Shit.

Nemera suddenly turned swung her blade out, calling in defiance, as the air in front of her swing compressed and rocketed forward, colliding with a wall of monsters and sending them flying backwards. The front line died seemingly instantly, the Wildlings dissipating into the air as green light, the solid enemies behind them crumpling to lifeless piles of woodland errata as the wave passed through them. The force of the blade echoed irregularly through the enemies behind, and there lay the closest thing to an escape route they could possibly hope for. Exangelus had no idea what she had just done, had no idea what kind of attack that had been, but for the seconds that followed the initial blow, he didn’t care – the plan was in motion, and the Juk warrior that faced them now held his blades in deadly authoritive points towards them. There was no mistake what the gesture meant, and there was no mistake that it would be followed by every one of the creatures around him. Nemera turned in the general direction of this warrior – this Saol – and charged, and as she did, everything in the place came slamming into them.

The wall of enemies closed on the remaining six warriors, each taking a side of their defensive hexagon and throwing out their defenses. A Wildling crashed quickly into Exangelus, not hard enough to tackle him, but enough to throw him off his balance. It disappeared behind him. He turned back and readied himself again. A second Wildling charged in, but this time, Exangelus was ready and willing; his blades came up in time to stab throw the minion, but as he expected the full weight of the creature to hit, it simply passed right through him. Just as effectively as a tackle had been, Exangelus stumbled forward, having adjusted his weight in anticipation of the attack, and stomped forward in an awkward side stance. He had almost forgotten that they had the ability to render themselves as intangible. His blades came up to his sides, defensive but without direction. Another Wildling pounced, snarling fangs exposed and ready, and Exangelus struck again, a vertical hack that would have cracked the creature’s braincase had it landed; again, it simply passed through the creature as it ran off untouchable through the crowd. Exangelus was struck in the back by one of the flying enemies, and flew forward onto his elbows, swinging back up as quickly as possible to avoid being attacked with his back turned, on the ground. He saw the enemy, the translucent buzzards, and saw that they were called Wildwings. The hit had struck home more than he had thought, a lingering sharp pain in his back, below his trapezius, fading into soreness. He rose his blades again, skittering back towards the main group as he did, trying to maintain the phalanx integrity. He tried rushing forward and slashing at a Wildling, but to no avail – the blade slipped easily through the antisolid and the enemy leapt away. How was he supposed to injure an enemy that could turn untouchable at a moment’s notice? He thought quickly, and settled on his next option: magic. His steel was avoidable, but were his elements? An easy deduction led him to Gan spells, which he had none of. A quick glance at his inventory showed him that he had a good supply of Gan scrolls to use, but before he committed to using his expendable resources, he decided to test his hypothesis. He targeted a cluster of Wildlings in front of him, and siphoned off his magical energy.

“Rue Kruz.”

The blocks of elemental ice filtered into existence, and exploded inwards, centering on the middle of three enemies. The spell landed, surprisingly, and green streaks of aura spilled off of it as the shards collided centrally with themselves and scattered back outwards, causing the surrounding two Wildlings to jump out of the way. It didn’t kill the enemy, but it certainly landed, and gave Exangelus a new hope for the fight. He launched another spell at the same creature, which ended its life, scattering more Wildlings as he went. Thinking again about the effect of elemental havoc, Exangelus ran forward and decided he’d give a go to one of his elementally charged attacks. He found one of the Wildlings and confronted it, and launched his skill.

“Dark Dance.”

He felt the elemental darkness of his blades rear up, unnaturally high for their level, and spew out as he felt tension well up in his arms. The Wildling rushed him, and as it leapt for its first attack, Exangelus swiveled down and slammed the his blade across its face, the elemental force digging a gnarled, effective gouge below its eye. The creature’s inertia carried it forward, and the attack slammed it into the ground, barely standing. Exangelus delivered the final four strikes from his spell into key points on the creature’s body; one behind its neck, both its sides, and the final swing coming opposite across its face, throwing it aside, dead and done for. The element faded from his blades as more enemies filled in his fallen foes’ places. He expected to have to resort to more magically-charged attacks, but was surprised when he found that one of the Thicket Creepers had made its way to the front line. The fight grew more interesting, and Exangelus a hint more confident, as he attacked it, no magic involved.

He struck at it with his blades, digging first a deep laceration in its outstretched arm, tossing it down, and a second gash across its chest. He was stopped for moment as it rushed forward and punched, a carefully aimed blow that barely missed Exangelus’s face, and struck again, an unpracticed left hook that struck him in the ribs. Grunting the initial pain off, Exangelus attacked again, digging one blade straight into the crevice of its neck, and leaving it stuck there, the dark jewel at the end of his Mukuro looking like the tip of an oblong lightning rod. The creature’s eyes lit up in what could have easily been construed as agony, and it suddenly swung forward, an arcing strike with its right arm. Exangelus stepped backwards, expecting to completely dodge the attack, but to his unpleasant surprise, was struck across the face by an extended vine. It slung his head with a torsion he really could have done without, spinning his body around with the force of the blow. The mad Creeper pressed its attack, opposite hand clutching the blade stuck in its neck, swinging back around with the same arm as before. Still partially stunned by the blow, Exangelus clumsily ducked under the swing. He rushed his shoulder into the midsection of the Creeper, throwing it backwards, and at just the right distance for a follow-up attack. Carrying his weight forward, he let his right foot slide up, grounding him as his left leg came up and flew out, striking his enemy at the height of the kick’s potential, dead-on to where a human’s solar plexus would be located. The Creeper was shockingly solid as the hit struck, but the kick was still forceful enough to throw all offensive ideas out the window. Exangelus stood and did not let the precious seconds after the attack go to waste. Rushing forward, he planted a leg behind the stumbling Creeper’s own, put an arm around its midsection, and thrust his weight forward, sending it crashing backwards. Wasting no time, Exangelus stabbed his remaining blade into the core of the monster, bringing it to within inches of its death. Reaching forward and pulling, Exangelus tore his other blade, stuck in the creature’s shoulder, out from its thicket prison, and the squirming head of the beast went still. Beginning to breath hard, he stood and ran to take on his next opponent. Dodging a swooping attack from a Wildwing, he ran to the nearest enemy, and when he looked up, immediately regretted it. If he had ever stared a gorilla in the face, he had hoped it would be nothing like this, and not nearly so repulsively misshapen; it was almost like looking a bear in the face, except all the features were oversized and laden with unnecessary muscle. It resembled a walking pincushion; what Exangelus first mistook to be thick hair were actually spines growing from every exposed area of skin the creature had, and each was slicked in some substance that dully reflected light – Exangelus felt that, whatever it was, if it was spewing from the creatures’ spines, he didn’t want it anywhere near him. It was endowed with fatty bulk like a heavy-set weight lifter, skin an oily green, hands and feet covered in dirt and muck and vengeance. Without thinking, Exangelus found himself on the ground, meaty hand slapping him aside like a bum peddling for change in a subway boarding station. He quickly stood and faced it, ducking under a relatively slow punch. The beast was slow, but with all of its other features, Exangelus felt this Trunca would be anything but easy to deal with. He struck with his blades, digging a gash in the obliques of the oversized ape-thing, finding with unpleasant distaste that the monster didn’t seem to react at all. He dodged another bumbling punch and struck again, again with naught but a grunt form the creature. Exangelus retreated from the monster, dodging a zealous little Wildling in the process, and considered all his options. This thing was brutal. He wasn’t doing anything to it by attacking. He imagined, if the small slap-strike was any indication, that if he was struck by one of the punches, he’d have one hell of a time trying to reclaim his breath. The spines didn’t seem to help his vision of beating this thing, either. But, dodging yet another slow strike, a thought hit him: what’s a big, muscley thing like this usually weak against? What’s the opposite of physical might? Exangelus jumped backwards and dug through his inventory, finding the appropriate scroll from the list.

“The bigger they are…” be began, but didn’t voice the second half of the corny proverb. He accessed his Stone Storm, his strongest available Gan scroll, and released his magical energy. A massive stone formed overhead of the beast, issuing earthly aura as it hung in air for that second. The Trunca looked up, and almost comically, it let out a short, audible unnh? The stone fell, and the Trunca was crushed, Elemental Critical rising above its corpse like a banner of defeat. Exangelus turned from his foe, and caught sudden glimpse of the leader of the Horde, in all his elemental glory, attacking one of his teammates directly. In a brutal second, Exangelus saw him cleave a devastating blade straight across his ally’s chest, rocketing him backward and into the ground. Saol rushed past and turned his steed around, facing his downed ally again. He didn’t recall the player’s face, but the shear fact that he was still alive after a hit like that suggested that he far surpassed Exangelus in strength. Saol charged again, and before he could think about it and how ludicrous it seemed, Exangelus sprinted for the nexus at which Saol would strike again. Everything went blurry in that instant, and suddenly, Exangelus found himself colliding broadside with the flaming steed. The force of the duo was everything that Exangelus had expected; he felt his shoulder recede into its socket and roll out the other side, making a sickening pop as it did. In a desperate glance upwards, he saw Saol’s falling blade strike inches passed his fellow Heavy Blade’s body, digging a recess in the earth three feet long. The steed, called Gaea, whinnied and shifted its weight after the surprise tackle, carrying Saol off track for a moment as they regained balance. Exangelus found himself crashed stomach-first next to the player he had just attempted to extricate, casting a quick glance to the player before pushing himself up with his good arm. The player's eyes, an icy shade of blue bluebluecold
(animal)
deepicybluedistant looked back at him with indiscernible emotion. Exangelus dug through his inventory and let a Health Potion slip onto the Heavy Blade, before allowing himself a Health Drink that relocated his shoulder with a painful crack. He had no time; the player – Zan – would have to deal again on his won. Saol was turning back around, and Exangelus would not subject himself to this man’s power. He felt, quite surely, that he would be killed, and he had done all he could. He sprinted away, blades tucked under his fists, to the relative safety between some giant green worm thing and the general grouping of his teammates, hoping that this Zan would make it out alright.

As he took up stance again, back to his teammates, a thought flittered across his mind.

Who was that… Zan?

A Thicket Creeper reared and attacked, and the thought was pushed from his mind.

-GM-

Sekai's eyes would probably widen at the number.

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

Nemera's feet dangled below her, the woman's white bangs (normally pulled back with the rest of her hair) strewn messily about her forehead. Each strand, even as she struggled against the hand at her throat with both of her own, struck to her face with the paste sweat and mud had made on her skin. Something about the mess, about the disheveled state she found herself in and the scalding fury blazing in the red of her eyes would have undoubtedly made her beautiful to the two in her life that she held romantically dear, but they were gone. That small fact, ridiculously she thought, wouldn't leave her alone as she tried to flail her legs against the flaming steed in hopes of it lurching and Saol dropping her in the jerk of momentum. Of course, it didn't work. The thought pulsed back; they were gone. With her airway cut off, the Heavy Blade could feel herself growing closer and closer to ghosting, and she felt...alone. It was such a silly thing, really, knowing that help was on the way and her team was trying to fight their way to her, but the lack of oxygen was degenerating the logistics of her mind at an alarming rate. Behind her, Nemera could hear Takua, Exangelus, Zan and Sidhe being overwhelmed and destroyed, their might widdled to little in the face of such numerous oppressors. Then, she was sorry. She was sorry she had let it end too soon. She was sorry that, if her paranoia was to be trusted, that Sekai hadn't been given enough time.

But that didn't stop her from spitting in Saol's face.

She even almost didn't feel the sword sink into her stomach.

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

"No! We mustn’t stop!"

A small, yet uniquely strong, hand wrapped its way around Talal's arm in a slight, urgent tug. The Twin Blade had taken a precious second to halt and turn around, looking for their teammates or enemies or God knows what and Sekai knew that they couldn't worry themselves about anything but the mission at hand. It wasn't easy for her, not with the bundle of ever-mounting worry in her gut, but there simply wasn't any other choice. The Archer was putting faith in the others to do what they needed to do as well. Talal offered no resistance and, a heartbeat later, the duo was again huffing their way through damp earth and past the girthy trunks of the slumbering giants. Above, the sky was getting steadily darker like the breath of a bed omen, making it harder and harder to navigate without squinting. Sekai's call out to the...whatever was supposed to help them hadn't been heeded and, a few downed Trunca later, she knew they had to keep moving. Now, her lungs practically on fire, she wondered if she had chosen unwisely. How did Nemera make the choices she did? How did the Heavy Blade know what she was doing was right? Nagging thoughts of 'would they had come if we had stayed a little longer?' and other equally downtrodden tidbits nibbled in chorus with the giggling creature that had momentarily dropped out of the branch above to bite into her neck before scurrying down her back and hopping off to continue its maniacal chortles.

But still she had to go on.

Whatever distance Kira, Shemock and Baron had bought her and Talal seemed to be thinning with every step they made. Nail-on-chalkboard screeches, slobbering barks and muscled thumps were nearing and still there was no sign of those that had been promised to them. Surely the Gan Incarnation had informed their cavalry that the help would be needed immediately? Maybe, just maybe, the Eventides had neglected to mention some sort of signal? When Sekai tripped on a ground-nestled rock, thumping her chin into the ground and crunching her teeth together, it didn't necessarily matter anymore. Her Twin Blade companion had stopped to help her back up and, in that slice of temporal grace, they were met with a line of halted foes. Like before, the Wildwings circled above, but unlike their first meeting, the Wildlings stayed at the side of the Trunca's like loyal, ravenous dogs. After a second, though, even the oversized birds had retreated to the formation. There wasn't a sense of building animosity, however, and Sekai realized what she was seeing; they were all looking at something. Ignoring the throbbing pain in her mouth, tawny eyes were nervously shifted to the opposite side of the tree line. Whatever had been there was suddenly blurred by an expansive wave of black tendrils that riddled the creatures with holes like an army of unmanned knives until, as they turned to flee, the last of them were obliterated.

Talal started to help Sekai to her feet, but with eyes glued on what was emerging then, the Archer may as well have been dead weight. What looked like panthers the size of rhinos numbered to nearly half the size of the Wild Hunt but held a nobility to them that reminded her of the Yavan. The largest of them, almost a head taller, steadily approached Sekai with a warning, feline rumble in its throat. Immediately, she knew what had been used to defeat the monsters; great, thick whiskers flowed from the sides of their faces like hair floating underwater. Their fur held a dark green shimmer to it like a puddle of single-hued oil catching sunlight and, when it nuzzled its large, wet nose against her arm (seeming to gather some sort of information out of doing so), she could feel that it was as soft as it looked...like velvet, almost. The growl ceased when the being's face was withdrawn and if panther's could grin, Sekai would have set it was doing so right then. Unconsciously, she reached out a hand to run curled fingers against its silky cheek, and the moment she did so...it was as if she was somewhere else. When she came back to herself, she couldn't remember what her eyes had shown her, but one sensation was quick to stay; she could have sworn she felt Krake smile. The daunting presence, the smell of fall leaves and spring soil and nature itself...it couldn't have been anything else, could it?

"We must hurry, child. I am afraid all of your friends may already be dead." There was a pause. "But I have something for you. Raka, the leader of the Yavan, has sent a data stream through the Green Incarnation, to the Nimirja - us - to be given to you. He cut if from his own form."

A necklace, one crafted in the image of the Juk rune with a black and red rocky surface, a pulse of green veins and a chain of blue and yellow beads, appeared in her hand with a vocal message ringing through her mind: 'I have not forgotten the gentleness you showed me. I can only hope you forgive my failure to protect you. With this, you may communicate with me whenever you desire. This item will function as a pseudo-Flashmail server for something, myself, normally unable to receive such things. Be well, daughter of Krake. There is yet much to be done. I pray we meet again, should Vulcan be so kind.' And it was over. With a yelp of surprise, Sekai found her waist ensnared by a cable-width whisker and placed upon the leader's back, two more tying together behind the creature's head as makeshift reigns. The one next to it, perhaps the Nimirja's second, did the same to Talal.

"Hold on tight." It's voice was something of a mixture of a growl and almost human-sounding vocal cords.

"Y-Yes."

With a burst of power, the whole pride was suddenly thundering their way through the forest, Sekai having to hug herself close to the majestic creature to stay on. There was nothing graceful about their rush, but the time for such things had been cut drastically short. Only once did they stop - and then, only three of them - to snatch up Baron, Shenmock and the cursing AI (amazingly still alive, through either sheer stubborn defiance or luck). It took a series of back-and-forth Flashmails (and thoughts, for Sekai and Kira) between the five to establish that, yes, these were the help they were promised and, no, they weren't going to eat them. When the stampede was complete once more, Sekai couldn't help but feel sick for no matter how much she tried, she couldn't hear fighting anymore. No fighting meant that the Eventide Crescendo's continued existence now truly did rely on Sekai and her reinforcements fending off the hoard. But how? The Nimirja seemed great, there was no doubt, but they didn't cover the numbers and the Wild Hunt's odd ability to apparently continually refresh its lost made more soldiers irrelevant in the end. Whatever was to happen, when they finally did arrive at the lip of the swelled monsters, five ghosts dispersed amongst them, Saol was nowhere to be found. Had he heard the approach of the Nimirja and fled? No...that didn't make sense. His army was superior. What, then, had scared him so?

Sekai watched as the sky grew a shade darker still.

The sea of foes, despite their advantage, continued their pause at the sight of the Nimirja. There was, without a doubt, a presence to the creatures that demanded such reverence. Still, as Nemera and the rest looked on, they all knew it wouldn't last. When the fear or the shock or whatever in Hell that kept them at bay ended, the world was a ripple of motion...that stopped once again. At the throat of each of the EC's help grew a bright green, collecting glow beneath the fur, a glow that almost seemed to promise one of the classic blasts of energy some video game's were famous for. Despite that expectation, when the glow paused, there wasn't anything but a low, eye-shaking tone that throbbed in the skulls and the very skeletons of every human player present (even those currently dead). It could be compared to a horn, perhaps, but that was only scratching the surface. Those with more military insight would recognize it was closer to something of a sonic weapon emitting from every open mouth of the gathered Nimirja ranks. For a few seconds, the only effect it appeared to have on the monsters before the group was a nauseous sway before, one by one, various portions of their head simply seemed to pop. In a mere handful of time, all monsters in earshot had been reduced to digital oblivion and those who weren't were on the run. Sekai, however, could feel the one she rode sag a bit, the attack as draining as it was mighty.

Snaking whiskers brought the still-breathing five back to the ground in a weak, slightly shaky drop. The leader of the Nimirja spoke not long after.

"We will be useless to you now for some time. Our strength comes from the Green Incarnation and most of its power was drained in awakening us from our slumber in the soil. You must keep moving, however. All of you. Though our master has lost the strength to coherently communicate, using the last of that skill to impart us with a message, it has spent much time studying the code of its supposed 'Prison Field.' We have been directed to tell you that all hope is not lacking. The Higher of Juk, paranoid as she is, has left a way for her to easily bring down the Wild Hunt should it ever turn against her." A pause. "Spread throughout this field are five locations, marked with the sign of Juk, that hold within them the means to cripple both Saol and his army. They-" And the leader stopped, its massive paws backing up a few steps as the last of the field's daylight vanished and the base of the trees around them began to crack. "N-No...we were too late. There is still so much to tell." A swallow, one that sounded odd in its feline throat. "It is here."

Sekai's heart seemed to be trying to escape her chest, thudding against it without mercy. "W-What is here?"

"The Swath."

And in the air, even to those not trapped within the game, the thick smell of blood blossomed.

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

((OOC:

I apologize if there isn't much to go off of this round. What comes next needs a round of its own to start for real effect. I'm also sorry if the post's quality seems sub-par. I found myself oddly tired as I was writing this. Stupid hot shower.

Also, Sekai, if my vocal Godmodding had Sekai saying things she normally wouldn't, please tell me and we can correct them.

Otherwise, enjoy everyone!

:OOC))

Shenmock gripped his spear tightly with both hands. Sweat poured down his face and hit the ground with a gentle beat. He looked up at the Wildwing that hung at its perch in the tree. It wavered a bit as the wind came, but it didn’t matter. It flew off and went crashing down towards him. He brought up his spear, and met its razor sharp talons. The force of the blow nearly knocked the spear out of Shenmock’s hand, but he held it hard and strong, refusing to fall and die again. He wasn’t just about to lose after seeing so much. There were still dozens of monsters left, and yet they were holding off okay. He thought he might’ve saw the group maybe once, but they were surrounded by the numerous monsters. He heard yells and spells being cast, but it was just about the same here, only a little less crowded and fewer people to tackle…or tear to pieces. The Wildwing pushed him back, his bare feet not being able to dig into the ground with the light mud that surrounded the area. He was losing strength, and fast. He loosened up and ducked, then rolled forward as it tried to claw him with its talons. He turned, only to see that it was coming at him once again. He hit a talon away with his spear, but was slashed in the face by another one. He fell back into the mud and looked up at the monster who rose to the sky and flew down at him. He rolled to the side and got up, prepared to block again against the monster. The monster flapped its wings, bringing mud up and into his face. He reached a hand to wipe it off so he could see, but that was his mistake. It slammed its talon into his chest, sending him back into a tree. He crumbled to the ground and got up, the mud having flown off his face by the impact of the hit. He mumbled a Repth, trying to always be on top of things. He didn’t want to die too quickly, so he always kept it up in the top half, not the lower half. He prepared his spear again, prepared to tackle this Wildwing. He hadn’t even gotten a hit on it yet. That was just sad in his opinion. The Wildwing flew forward and let out a squawk as it tried to claw at him. He rolled to the right and hit it with his spear once, not doing too much damage, but doing something to it. He swung again, but missed. The bird flew back up and landed on a branch. He frowned at it. He wasn’t going to use a spell. He was trying to keep his SP rather high than low.

The bird swooped down from its perch and tried to dig its claws into his character, but Shenmock was just going to let him do that. He jumped back, staggering a bit, but still keeping his eye on the monster. It landed on a branch that stuck out of the mud. It squawked again in its usual manner and brought up its wings, prepared to hit him again with mud. He wasn’t just going to let a stupid bird do that…just like that. He turned away, then spun forward, his spear being thrust forward. The words Gan Zot escaped his mouth, his SP reserves being used at that. The spear slammed into the birds head, the spell following afterward. The ground roared under them, rumbling until Shenmock was forced to keep his balance. The spear was sent flying as a clump of rock and earth shot out of the ground, hitting the monster square in the chest. The bird squawked and flew back, one of its wings a bit hurt by the elemental spell, but not by much. The brown aura dyed down around him, his hair coming down and laying against his skin. In a second, the bird came soaring over to him, a green aura surrounding it. A tornado of energy came forward, surrounding him fully and not letting him go anywhere. Leaves, thickets, whatever was around, come around him, slashing and hitting him with whatever nature would give. He winced at the sight of numerous cuts across his hands, blood trickling down from them. He frowned at them and looked at the monster from where he was. He didn’t have his spear with him at the moment, and the bird was quite intimidating. This was the part where plan B came in.

Run.

For a second, he stood there, motionless, then in a second, he sprinted forward and ducked, going under the bird. That was the hard part. It was most…disturbing going under there. He came out from the shadow and dove over a log, the bird’s beak coming forward and hitting the log that he had just leaped over. He kept running, his jacket being flung up. The bird saw this and soared forward, grabbing it in its beak. Shenmock was just about to jump, but the sudden pull back made his stomach turn. He spun back, his spear just about to be pulled up from the mud. He was slammed into the ground once before being let go. A purple spot came up on his cheek and his HP was going low. He didn’t have SP for it, and using a Health Drink at a time like this was hardly a good thing. He lunged forward, but the bird’s wing hit him away. He slammed his head on a rock sticking out of the ground. His vision grew fuzzy as he got up. He thought he saw two birds maybe, or was this just his imagination? His eyes adjusted and there was actually two birds in front of him. He stared at the two Wildwings, his eyes growing wide with every second. A shadow loomed over him, making him feel like some kind of mouse about to be choked by a snake. In a second, he made his reaction. He lunged forward, his hand only inches from the spear. His finger grazed off it, soon his palm reaching it. His hand came around it and he pulled it out of the ground…

Only to be pulled back up. He let out a yelp as the birds beak came around his leg and flung him up. He noticed a Juk Rom had been used to enhance the speed. He mumbled a Repth, his SP zipping down to zero once again. He flew up, almost hitting a branch that would’ve sent him tumbling down to his death. The thought scared him for a moment, but in a moment, he regained his senses. He looked down and found that both Wildwings were soaring up towards him. He let out a curse as he started his descent, his speed picking up within seconds. In a few seconds, he’d hit rock bottom and die. What was his solution? He didn’t have one.

Shenmock saw a branch and tried to grab on, but his hands instantly slid off, the speed of his fall only making it hard for him to grab on. He fell forward and found the birds had arrived…and he was their food. A beak closed around his right foot, but no sooner had it done that then he had stabbed it with his spear. The beak that clasped around his leg instantly let go, a squawk of pain coming from it. He looked down and found the next bird was waiting patiently for him to fall. He fell. Hard.

He looked up at the two birds that stared down at him. He got up slowly, his legs almost failing on him. He wanted to get up and strangle them, but that wasn’t possible at this moment. He charged forward on uneasy feet and swung his spear, trying to hit one in the throat, but found it was useless. He found that the only hope of hitting one was if he was much faster in speed. Though he had had more luck with the Wildings, the ones who hung out in the sky proved more difficult. One of the birds flapped its wings and took off, seeing that there was more prey to deal with elsewhere. It knew by instinct that it’d only take one to deal with him. Two would just quicken up the pace…by a little. He wasn’t just about to be judged by two monsters. He prepared his spear and put one foot in front of him, trying to gain balance on both feet. He charged forward and jumped, his spear in a position to try and get a cross slash in. The bird pushed back with its wings and landed back on the ground. He wasn’t done. He swung forward again, landing a hit on its chest, then another. The bird raised its wings and tried to get some mud in his face, but he was too close for that. He swung his spear, hitting the monster once again and forcing it to take to the skies. He frowned at the monster as it had gotten the better of him. It was in the sky…and he was on the ground. There was definitely a disadvantage in this battle. He wanted to get up and attack, but that would be useless. The monster was high in the sky, prepared to go down and claw at his face whenever it needed to. He jumped back as its talons came down, trying to rake at his face. He jumped back, landing on a rock. He raised his spear and pointed it at the monster, prepared to swing at it whenever it came down. It was a bluff, but he just hoped monsters could be scared.

Well…they couldn’t.

The monster came down onto the ground and looked at him straight in the eye. He was trying to bide time at that. If he finished this off, then maybe he’d get a chance to help Baron or someone else who actually needed it. Fighting alone, but with other people, was kind of weird, and it felt the same as the numerous dungeon fights he’d been on. It was like this: Shenmock went to the dungeon, he fought monsters, they kicked his ass for a moment, then he barely got out. It was just like that. Was he really supposed to deal with that…just like that? No, he wasn’t, but he was handling it like a little kid would. The bird came forward and tried to get a single hit on him, but he wasn’t just about to let it do that. He guarded and swung up with his River Spear. It hit another wound, opening it to spread even more blood. He fell to the ground and tried swinging again, but to no avail. He found that getting a combo in wasn’t the best idea. The bird lifted up its talon and slashed him across the face.

That was it. He was done playing. It was like being slapped by a girl, then doing an instant replay over and over. It made him pissy…and he didn’t like when people made Shenmock pissed off. He made another swing and landed another hit on the monster. As its HP decreased, it seemed to lose energy, and with energy came speed and everything else. He prepared his spear for a final blow, swung…and missed. He fell forward as the bird soared high into the sky and came down. It swung both talons right as Shenmock fell to the ground. Shenmock swung his spear up, his grip loosened a bit. The spear loosened enough that it soared out of his hands and hit the monster, right square in the chest. He smiled as the monster fell to the ground. That was a hassle, but he had defeated his first Wildwing. Was that a good thing, or did it show how he truly sucked at fighting? He liked fighting, but he kind of sucked at the combo part. He looked back at the fight going on, seeing that it was not fending well. The group that was surrounded wasn’t doing so good.

He didn’t know what to do or say. Was he supposed to try and resurrect every single one of them…? Or was he supposed to try and keep fighting until Sekai and Talal got back from getting that Gan Incarnation thing. There were a lot of choices that he had right now, and yet none really made the situation any better. In other words, he was useless at the moment. He mumbled a Repth again. He watched his SP come back to its usual point at zero and sighed. He looked up, finding that Baron and Kira were doing well in their fight. They were surviving and holding them off. That was just about all they needed to do. While he thought they’d never be this close to defeat ever in this quest, now he was scared to think about the dungeon and the next few challenges to come. He looked around, finding that the Wildwing had gone off to the other battle, trying to finish off the others. He didn’t like the idea, but if that thing had stayed, he would’ve died…and it probably wasn’t going to be of much use since its HP was lowered a bit by him.

He looked back, thinking he had heard something. He didn’t know what exactly to expect. Maybe he was expecting Sekai and Talal coming forward to help the cause. Maybe they had made a miscalculation and they didn’t find that Incarnation thing. Loads of ideas came to mind at the sound of it. It was a bit like pounding feet, but it was far off enough that he could’ve mistaken it for people getting close by. He turned…and gasped at the sight of it.

It was quite unbelievable at first. The thought of an army coming towards them were not in his book. Were they here to help them with the battle…or were they here to murder him and bring Shenmock bits to a festival with all their creepy Wild friends. He found his answer shortly. The army was not of humans, though. It was of many panther-like animals that came forward extremely fast. They looked like a great addition to the fight, but again, the question came to mind: were they a friend…or were they a foe? He pushed it out of his mind as he saw mounted on two of them were Talal and Sekai, though the Gan Incarnation thing was nowhere to be found…or was it supposed to be visible at all? He stared in awe at their whiskers. They looked like they could pick up a Heavy Axeman with loads of armor. He stared at it for a moment, looking like a complete idiot. There was a pause amongst the monsters, some shortly dazed a bit, or having some kind of status ailment cast on them. They came to a sudden halt in front of the small group. It was a quick stop, though, seeing as there were only three people there and loads of monsters to deal with over there. A panther-like beast came up to him. He was a bit confused at this. It looked like one of the animals that didn’t join the hunt…and actually looked a bit calm…at least without the whiskers. He stared at it, and it only looked back at him. In a second, he was typing up a flash-mail to Talal. This was confusing, to say the least. But…where did they meet them? It wasn’t like you’d meet an army just walking along in the field?

It was sent off in a second. The beast approached him, but it didn’t lean forward to put it up on its back. It lifted him off the ground…with its whiskers! He was a bit crept out when it picked him up and put it on its back, but once it let go, he relaxed a bit. He looked over to the others, Baron and Kira having done the same. It was like a panther and the lot looked like it could go fast. At that second, he received the return flash-mail.

The Nimirja? It was an interesting name at that, but…if they had saved Talal and Sekai, they were likely to be a huge help in trying to finish off the last of the monsters…or some of them. He just hoped it was a vast majority of them. At that second, the Nimirja charged forward. He almost lost balance and fell if he had not grabbed onto the beast and held on tightly. It was extremely bumpy, but these animals were probably like any other kind of beast that you rode on…except a horse, maybe. Those just gave you wedgies. They rode on, their speed increasing with each bound that the beast made. It was exhilarating to ride, but scary to almost fall off. They were there in less than a minute, and the effect didn’t really do much at first. They stood there, the small spells being cast, or whatever was actually being cast around them. It was a bit weird seeing the majority of them like that. Was it some kind of effect…charm, SP drain, something? His answer came, and it was not what he was looking for.

Slowly, the heads came off the majority of the monsters. The heads just pealed off like skin on an orange. Their heads fell, and in seconds, the area was covered with blood and guts from the animal’s heads. It was disgusting at that, and Shenmock wanted to go barf…but this was a game. You would see worse like in those survival horror games that he ignored. The monsters dematerialized, and in that moment, he felt the Nimirja that he sat on feel very tired, like life was being drained from it after the attack. Most of the monsters had fled by now, and that was a good thing, or else these Nimirja things were as good as toast. Or maybe he just thought they were useless and stupid at the moment. It really didn’t matter. It didn’t sound like this would happen a lot in this field.

He saw the whiskers slowly come towards him and pick him up from where he sat. Very slowly it dropped him to the ground, the whiskers shaking a bit as he went to the ground. They all looked a bit beat, and some were shaking. Everyone was five, though the people who had fought the main battle were all dead, ghosts hanging there. They were going to get revived eventually. He looked back at the leader, who spoke. Basically, he said that they weren’t that great after that attack. It had been fatal and had basically turned the odds against the other side. He was happy for that, but he was unhappy that the animals had to go through so much just for that. He knew that they couldn’t exactly…do much about it, since they were created and such, but still. Then he said something that made him shiver. It was a bit scary at first, but the sun was coming down, and darkness was coming over the field.

He looked over, staring into the distance. There was a smell going around. He could tell after seeing the beasts sniff the air a bit. Something was here. Something that was deadly. Something that didn’t want them here. It was something that was bad news for the Eventide Crescendo. They had barely managed to get out of this mess without the Nimirja, but now this? He was prepared for battle, and so were the rest of them.

The Swath was coming.

He was ready for whatever came at them. He knew it was deadly beyond what he had seen in this game. Deep down, there was something bugging him. Ready? That wasn’t the word for it. It was something that was bad.

He wasn’t ready.

Takua watched impassively from where he was forced to watch as a ghost. The damage was flying quickly, as either fists, blades or spells found their marks in the flesh of the opposing side. Things, to say the least, weren’t going well. They hadn’t ever expected it to to well, but it was depressing just how badly they were being slaughtered. With the Arena, he had known that there wasn’t a chance of the people outside even having a chance to live. Unless they got help from the Atesh, which hadn’t happened because there was no possible way to get any help from them. Well, the teleportation out to the rest of B4, and the promise of help later on did boost their spirits a little. His musing introspection stopped as he walked closer to the battle, only to have Zan come stumbling out towards him. There might have been a wild panicked look in his eyes and face for just a moment, but then a resurrect came flying towards the Wavemaster. Returning to life, he was preparing to thank the Heavy Blade when the man crashed into him and brought him to earth.

Slamming to the ground, the Wavemaster looked at the coma victim in front of him with a critical eye. Open wounds, slashes, and other evidence of magic damage was very much in evidence on his body, but it was the…strange processes that was going on that struck him the most. Instead of the smaller wounds just remaining, they were actively closing somehow. The much more vicious wounds weren’t closing nearly at the same speed, but they were healing somehow without any spells or items being used. Curious and bemused at the same time, the Wavemaster tried to cast a Repth, only to realize that he didn’t have the SP for it in the first place. With a murmur that sounded like an apology, Zan turned on his side and…spat a fairly large sphere of blood and saliva onto the ground. Wincing at the thought of how much whatever wound had caused that must be hurting, Takua got into a crouch and flexed his wings. They were working fine, but he had noticed that his once long hair had been given a fairly accurate chopity chop by Saol. Whatever, it was like he had really wanted Maren to retain his long hair, but he hadn’t really had a chance to change it. Now though, Saol had done the job for him, and he no longer had the damn stuff getting in his ways.

The now shorter-haired Wavemaster got up shortly after Zan did. He was somewhat taken aback by how Nulus vanished…and strange green eyes suddenly opening up on his vambraces. Some sort of…recall technique? What the hell was Nulus anyways? Making a mental note to enquire after they got out of the hell hole that they were in, he walked forward as his SP regenerated at a rapid pace. Being a Wavemaster meant that one had high SP to begin with, and the higher it went, the quicker the regeneration developed. Bracing himself for more combat, but not willing to drink a Mages Soul just yet, he moved a bit closer to the combat so that he could find a place to nail with a spell. People were dying, not left and right, but it was happening. Zan was annihilating everything that moved, Exangelus was attempting to get rid of the monsters that surrounded him…the rest was lost in the undulating horde of bodies and monsters that swayed to the beat of battle.

There was no time to think as a Flayer spotted him. Even as the spell, something that looked suspiciously like a MeJuk Kruz, formed around him, the boy gathered his legs under him and exploded with movement. With all the horizontal energy that he could get, he launched himself out over a surprised Trunca, only a few feet above the ravenous swarm that suddenly found another target. Leaving the second level spell in his wake, the stakes colliding with nothing but empty air, he flew quickly and low. His attempt was to be high enough to evade the Trunca and Thicket Creepers while keeping out of the sight of the Wildwings, but it wasn’t working to well. A stray bald eagle that he hadn’t seen in time impacted under his chest, forcing him upwards as he cast a Yarthkins. Air whistled by his ears as he flew upwards, two Flayers having found his location and opened the range.

As if falling from a height, the Gan Summon fell directly onto a Thicket Creeper, using its thick feet to pancake it. Glaring at the horde, the troll, easily ten feet tall, took a stronger grip on his weapon, fingers curling lovingly over the granite hilt. With a roar that momentarily drowned out the screeching and barking that emanated from the Wildwings and Wildlings, the Yarthkins swung in a three hundred and sixty degree arc. One Trunca, who was at the perfect distance, was hit in the side of the head by the giant bat. Without slowing one iota of energy, the spiked club pulped the head like an anvil falling fifty stories onto a rotten pineapple. A completely unnecessary and brutal Elemental Critical announced the obliteration of the opposing side as the weapon of destruction continued onwards. One Wildling didn’t make the phase out, its jade carcass coming to rest on the face of a Forest Creeper twenty feet away. The next three dogs merely rendered themselves unable to be hit, but the last unlucky Creeper found the giant hammer sheering his body in half as if it were nothing but a twig.

The Wavemaster who had casted the destruction that had just blown apart several members of the Wild Hunt was in the process of being brought down from the sky. Two Juk Roms had flipped him around, and the next, oh, ten spells were letting him know that flying was not the safest place to be. Checking his SP, somewhere just above seventy, he dropped down by folding his wings to his back. As Juk lashed at him and caused his health to drop precipitously, the body fell towards the floor…and one Burrow Worm that Saol had dedicated to tracking him down caused that safe ground to vanish beneath him. Dropping into the mouth without a chance to fly away, the Wavemaster saw his life drop even faster as shit…dissolved him. Knowing that actually getting out was impossibly without hurting himself due to the thick hide and a closed mouth, he did the next best thing.

As the gargantuan Worm started to move towards its next intended victim, something happened inside of it. The fiery phoenix of destruction hovered in its gut next to the deceased body of the Wavemaster who had cast it. The enemy was all around it, and it had precise instructions on what it was meant to do. The second level summon of Vulcan glowed for one moment in a horrifyingly beautiful sight, molten fire sizzling as it came into contact with the walls of the stomach. In the next second, an explosion rocked the monster, compressed heat suddenly trying to find the path of least resistance. Flames dashed forward, racing ahead of its brothers towards the mouth and tail of the beast, the sealed container that was Takua’s grave actually enhancing the characteristics of the spell.

To those outside of the beast, the two ends literally detonated in fire as bones and flesh scythed through the crowd. The middle portion slumped to the ground, the ghost walking out and surveying the rest of the army. A few creatures had died from that, but that was to be expected. He didn’t know of anything that could have withstood an internal blast that large, and some fallout was expected. Then he realized something. Everyone, Nemera and Sidhe included, was facedown in the earth. Which meant that they were all dead. Baron, Talal, Shenmock, Kira and Sekai were the only people left alive in the Eventide Crescendo…assuming that they were actually still alive in the first place.

He took the time that he suddenly had at his disposal to take a look at the sky. It was still darkening, whatever daylight was trying to stick around vanishing slowly. That, in a regular field, might have been normal. In a Higher field, that was downright disturbing. He had no doubt that whatever it was doing up there, it wouldn’t be good. Gan had never been good when things had suddenly started to change on them, the fact that something was slowly shifting in this field was worse. Even the last Prison Field he had been in hadn’t put him at ease at the beginning. There was no attempt to sooth him, and nothing within the trees called out that this was a safe place. He didn’t like using Juk spells, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t like the element. Small things, like how the a regular forest in real life could put him into a tranquil state even when his mind was in turmoil, only solidified his opinion of nature. He had sought that solitude and safety several times in the past week, whenever he got off the computer and wasn’t sleeping.

Fire was a destructive force for him. It would warm and help you, yes, but there was generally nothing that could calm him there. Its power was used for destruction. He could see how Vak could be peaceful for other people, and perhaps in time it might be for him as well. Gan was an enigma to his soul. It was neither a destructive measure or a special place. Maybe it was because it was just everywhere, or he had no tie to that element. The latter was more true than the first certainly. His forced use of Yarthkins and the rest of the Gan spells had more to do with the fact that they were the highest level spells he had, and they did a ton to Juk creatures. Ani…darkness had never been dear to him. It’s power was undeniable, as was the terror that it inspired in humanity, but his heart and mind preferred the light. He would use it, yes, but he would not relish it. The darkness was where he might be able to rest, but it would not heal him.

Rue was a force of both peace and war. Its waters would sooth his wounds and calm his rage while cleansing him. It put his mind into equilibrium, or at least forced it in that direction. Yet, he could just as easily force that water and ice that put him at rest into a savage offensive power that would give most people he had run into pause. Water itself was one of the most destructive forces on earth, and that fact hadn’t really changed much here. Any element could be destructive if the right tactics or scenarios were placed on it. The last wave, Rai, was more because he thought it fit him. The ebb and flow of electricity, how the bands and energy was everchanging and yet controllable, seemed to fit somehow. His moods fluctuated uneasily, as did his mental state. From calm to angry in a few seconds, and back again. It had destructive power…and didn’t calm him. It made him feel at home, yes, but it didn’t have the power to make him feel safe like Rue could.

Putting aside his feelings and internal musings, he looked to where the rest of the party had escaped to in time to see what arrived. His eyes bulged as he saw the approaching horde of creatures…with Sekai and the rest of who fled on their backs. That alone could have convinced him of exactly who they were, or who they could be aligned with, but it was the incredible…grace, power and majesty all woven into a single being that convinced him. It would be wrong for an enemy made by the Highers to contain that gentle grace. That they were all the size of a large rhino, maybe a hippo, with whiskers that stretched out from their face. Huge whiskers which, coupled with their incredible dark-green fur, stated that these were no ordinary beings.

The Wavemaster looked around though. The Wild Hunt was still huge, but was paused for a moment. Saol, he realized suddenly, was gone. Where the hell did he vanish to? The size of their…reinforcements was huge, yes, but the Wild Hunt was awesomely larger. Fear, then, was out of the question entirely. Wracking his brains, he was still unable to figure it out when the mob began to charge. He winced, wondering how long the slaughter would last; only to stop that pondering in awe and wonder. Somehow, the gathered panthers were creating an emerald-green power in their throats, something that grew with power and, with it, expectation. Truth be told, he was expecting an almost Hadoken like power blast that would annihilate the ranks of the Wild Hunt. Instead, a great vibration suddenly passed through him, causing his body to resonate and vibrate as if humming a tune. Instead though, this was with far more power, and, somehow, he could feel it even in his non-comatose state. Hell, there wasn’t even enough Dread Code in the area to immerse him, but he still felt it. It was with a detached sense of amazement that he realized that what they had was far more dangerous. The sonic weapon that they were using caused the gathered heads of the Hunt to explode in certain places, or simply vanish.

After several seconds, anything that wasn’t running as fast as it could go was dissolving in the dust at their feet. As the five who had ridden on the backs of the beast slid down, he quickly composed a flashmail.

He just smiled and shook his head as she revived him. He had a feeling that she would be the one doing that, and his feet touched the ground once more. Not that he could feel it. Not yet, this field hadn’t become so influenced by Dread Code that he was dropped into the reality that Zan and Sekai were exposed to. Instead, he listened to what the Nimirja had to say, nodding at the part where they said that the Higher of Juk was paranoid. Dirge had been paranoid enough, along with Sprouce, to build failsafes that the Eventides had taken advantage of. Including one…accident that had annihilated the entire field. Perhaps they were paranoid for a good reason, but their paranoid was their greatest weakness and strength. With the right plan and strategy, those supposed devices to keep them in power were something that would work directly against them. It sounded like this was something along the same lines as the floor meltdown device only directly against Saol and co.

But then his eyes widened. The Nimirja were afraid of something that had just swallowed the last of the light in the area? His staff found itself slammed to the leafy carpet that surrounded him just as the bottoms of the trees began to crack. His expression hardened as he was thrust into his memory. The thick smell of blood swamped him, putting him back into Polybeta Hall and the fragments of the battle against Sprouce. The cracks in the tiles, a thick stench of lifeblood, and the pure evil. His voice, when it emerged, was resigned and full of his hatred towards the Highers and the prison fields.

”Oh fuck me.”

Gyl's flashmail arrived just as she'd noticed Talal slow down, to turn around for one heart-stopping second to look behind them for any trace of an enemy... or the promised allies from the Gan Incarnation. Fear and purpose were the driving forces with a wave of desperation rising in the aftermath of the trail they cut through the forest, blazing through with more fervor than the pioneers must have had over in America and searching wildly for any sign of help. Unable to handle the risk of potentially losing another of her supposed group that had been split twice now, Sekai's hand shot out and grabbed the taller Twin Blade's wrist in a grip that might have bruised had she been able to feel inside the game.

“No! We mustn't stop!”

Touching another player was... odd, one that wasn't comatose anyways, she suddenly realized and frowned to herself even as she dragged the black haired woman in saffron garments behind her. Something... didn't feel quite right about the action, like her hand was plunged into a bucket full of viscous liquid and she was supposed to grab hold of some object within it. Solid but unstable at the same time, it wasn't a very pleasant feeling to say the least. Reading over the Flashmail, she responded as best she could while making sure the girl would be able to keep up and not get left alone.

'What?!'

Sekai's eyes widened to comical proportions and she nearly tripped over her own feet at the number given, a mix of horror, embarrassment and sudden understanding swept through her. Age in her country was widely regarded as a way of counting one's worth and wisdom but, the generations where, intellectually, one became more superior than an elder... what stigmas were attached were often harsh and unforgiving. A feeling of... nostalgic melancholy stole over her, replacing panic with a moment of sorrow born from having such a stigma attached to herself; she'd skipped two grades and was in her third year of senior high school at sixteen years old. She'd been treated poorly enough by the teachers and the students both and her mother had been frustrated because of the tutor's insistence she attend a public high school to “display the Namino name proudly”.

But... was it just her or could she really just about taste the same bitter loneliness she'd felt in school from the flashmail?

'I have to keep going, they're all depending on the success of my finding someone to help.'

They were counting on her, a sob threatened to burst forth from her chest at the thought, the unavoidable truth that swallowed her whole and tried to drown her. The sob did burst forth in a rush of breath as a Trunca, the oily hided gorilla-ish things that were deadly to someone such as herself and Talal. Setting herself as the target, Sekai slowly drew an arrow from the gem on her glove, notching it into the string and drew to her ear. Fear tasted like blood in her mouth, a heavy, sickening metallic taste she could feel rising in the back of her throat as she prepared to fire, to yell for Talal to start running on her command.

A Vak spell hit it to no avail, shooting from behind her and meaning Talal must be trying to provide some kind of assistance with what she had. Wait. Fire spells... she had an idea.

Reaching into her inventory, bow disappearing for the time being as the Trunca came ever closer, Sekai withdrew a familiar flask and heaved it with all her might right towards the face of the hideous beast in front of her. Something sharp bit into her neck with a squalling giggle that sent a rather vile curse out of the young woman's mouth, hissing and clamping a hand to the wound, she gritted her teeth against the pain and tried not to let the feeling those things on her body spook her too much.

“Talal-san! Hit that flask with your fire spell, hurry!”


Feeling momentarily victorious, as well as slightly vindictive as the flask erupted into flames, Sekai whirled and caught Talal's wrist again, restarting the fast paced run away from the rumbling army of corrupted, furious life forms behind them. It never ended, Sekai thought, eyes tearing, lungs burning from the extended run, even pacing herself wasn't helping in the long run. Why Nemera-san, she asked through a gasping attempt for air and pushed past her endurance, only on instinct and what adrenaline was going to give her.

'Why me? What is I had that one of the others did not? Why didn't you send those who weren't in the same position you were, ones who could be sent back to Dun Loireag?'

No, she wasn't weak, she wouldn't question these things, she had no right to at this moment. Perhaps later she would ask how she made her calls, but until then? She'd have to do with guessing and estimating that Nemera had truly chosen the best course of action there was available.

...even if she didn't quite agree with it.

Her foot caught and with a small cry of surprise mixed with pain as she hit the ground, sliding forward a bit as her chin met firm earth and her teeth sank into her tongue and clacked into each other. Tears of pain stung her eyes as she lie there, stunned for a moment before a strong hand, still with the sensation of being there but covered in that thick liquid preventing true contact, hoisted her back to her feet with a word of quiet thanks from the viridian clad girl.

“Thank you- ...Talal-san?”

Concern filtered heavily into the girl's voice as she noticed the dark brown eyes staring at something beyond her. A chill gripped her as she looked over her shoulder at the growing mass of snarling, dangerous beings surrounding them and blocking their escape, how on earth were they going to escape something like that?! Too many of them, she whispered almost silently to herself, tears filling her eyes as she swallowed hard and looked to the front of her, back to the enemy because she didn't want to see her death coming. Pale and feeling the adrenaline in her body rush out of her in a burst of breath that sent her back down in Talal's grip.

Oh God did her legs hurt.

'Build up of acids in the muscles from adrenaline, has to be.'

She thought with a teary eyed wince, nervously looking over to where everyone else was looking- and frowned as she thought she'd started to see something... and felt her hands and arms cover her head and face when something fast and dark snapped past her. Rage and pain met her ears as she whirled around, watching in amazed horror, or was it horrified amazement, as the tendrils, no, tentacles, ripped, stabbed and utterly annihilated even those who tried to escape their fate. A quick jerk lofted the girl to her feet, searing agony through the lower extremities of her body as she tried to balance her weight on her feet and looked up after noticing the look on the Twin Blade's face. Tawny eyes widened to rather alarming proportions at the size of those heading in their directions.

'B-Big kitties.'

The animal lover, the one who'd never had a pet in her life, inside of her went absolutely nuts with glee... and prayed to any Gods in this world and in her own that they were on her side, that these were the allies she was looking for. Her heart thundered in her ears, in her chest and hammered painfully against her ribs as one separated a little from the others, taller, bigger than the rest of the pride of... shadow formed felines and steadily made its way towards her. Awe replaced fear and uncertainty as she looked into the eyes and felt herself fall. Nobility, just like the Yavan Leader and his group had displayed before them the last field she'd been in, shone pure and defiant in the proud eyes and a low rumble in his? her? throat. Muscular, powerful and with a hue like shimmering green oil upon the night touched waters on their fur, there was a demand for respect, like the Yavan had commanded wordlessly, and for admiration.

Both of which Sekai was all too happy to give.

Those whiskers were dangerous but they looked so soft at the same time, the same as they looked in her eyes. Admiration shone in her gold eyes, sending several impressions without knowing it to the busily fighting AI with her comrades to try and show just how wonderful they truly were. A soft, wordless sound of delight slipped from her lips when the great head lowered, damp nose nuzzling against her arm and, after it drew back a little, giving her a great cat's version of a grin in the process, ceased the low, warning rumble in his/her throat. Breathless with wonder, she reached up to see if their fur was as soft as the small brush against her arm had whispered to her- and felt something inside of her shift.

Dazed and blinking, shaking her head in confusion, the tawny eyed Archer's free hand was pressed against her heart, a puzzled expression on her face as she tried to recall what on earth she'd just seen... or had been shown. A brief scent of crisp, autumn leaves and rich, new spring earth, a presence more awe inspiring than any she'd felt previously and the very, very heavy impression of a smile, of someone very important smiling at her. She couldn't... quite pull the pieces together, looking up at the great feline as if he/she could answer the problem, could tell her what she'd just seen but not seen... or not remembered.

"We must hurry, child. I am afraid all of your friends may already be dead."

As soon as the question had begun to rise, it fell along with the color from her face. Head whipping back in the direction they'd run so far from, any aches and pains forgotten in the moment she took to utterly destroy herself within for even letting herself be distracted for a split second. She needed to get back, before it was too late, oh God don't let it be too late, her heart prayed as she turned to go and was stopped by the powerful voice.

"But I have something for you. Raka, the leader of the Yavan, has sent a data stream through the Green Incarnation, to the Nimirja - us - to be given to you. He cut if from his own form."

Her eyes darkened at the mentioning of the leader of the Yavan, Raka-san, going as far as to... to cut, to remove something from his own flesh to give to someone like her...

'But isn't it similar to what you did for Kira?'

Sekai's thoughts surprised the hell out of her, standing there for a long moment before she nodded slightly to herself and swallowed hard, accepting the necklace with wide eyes and trembling hands. She stared at it in amazement, the delicately crafted item of blue and gold beads, of the centerpiece veined with the same green she recalled glowing so vividly through the black-red stone of their flesh. Tears welled up in her eyes as the deep, rumbling voice of the Yavan leader slipped into her mind, filling her with an emotion she couldn't quite explain, couldn't put into words as she listened and listened well.

I have not forgotten the gentleness you showed me. I can only hope you forgive my failure to protect you. With this, you may communicate with me whenever you desire. This item will function as a pseudo-Flashmail server for something, myself, normally unable to receive such things. Be well, daughter of Krake. There is yet much to be done. I pray we meet again, should Vulcan be so kind.

”Thank you.”

Soft, barely audible whisper spoken from her lips, shaky and grateful at the same time, she held the necklace close to her, switching from the fanged necklace from the Leviathan Kira had freed in her release to adorn the gift given to her. The physical gift, that was, the one he'd given her that couldn't be seen was the greatest gift of all and one that she was in sore need of, as much as she was loathed to admit it, so soon into this field. A yelp escaped, eyes widening as something carefully wrapped around her waist and pulled up on to a large, muscular back as two more, smaller, thinner whiskers moved back and formed themselves into miniature reigns for her to hold on to, more than to lead she guessed.

“Hold on tight.”

Stern, definitely more on the masculine side, Sekai decided as she responded, somewhat startled by the unusual kind of voice the leader of the Nimirja had. No, not unusual, she thought to herself, unique. It was something only they had, something that was theirs and theirs alone.

“Y-Yes.”

She stammered out, bracing herself for take off as Talal was caught and deposited on the back of one of the others and they set off to gather the three who had stayed behind to give them more time... and for the others who had left themselves behind as well and rested their hopes on them in return. An urgent impression, of quick communication that she was coming with help, that they had succeeded and to be prepared for a very swift pick up before they'd be rushing back to hopefully reach the others in time.

And prayed that they wouldn't be too late.

*

How many more of those fucking things were there?! Kira snarled to herself as she swung, blade passing through the snarling canine that tried moments later to rip a new one out of her flesh and ended up with a row of teeth knocked from its head as a result. Spinning around in a soundless, elementless version of the infamous 'Swipe' ability of a Long Arm, she brought her spear down and through two unsuspecting small fry and backed up a step. Sweat coated her body, silvery-blue hair a gunmetal gray in hue and amber eyes beginning to show the signs of strain and fatigue. She wasn't going to be able to keep this up for very much longer and it wasn't promising for how long it was taking Sekai and that other girl to hurry their asses up and find their supposed allies.

I've half a mind to ask that Nemera woman what the hell she was thinking, the other half wants to utterly slaughter her and beat some common sense into her for not utilizing the forces according to what their strengths really are.

Hurry up Sekai, Kira urged silently, diving back into the fray and spitting into the dying face of one of those poisonous bastards before it disappeared into a stream of data. A sharp glance around proved to her that this, what they were doing, was their version of one last stand before the inevitable ass-kicking that was sure to follow. Not to discredit the strength that Zan and his buddy were lending but, this... was different than the typical Freedom Fighter bullshit they'd gone through, cakewalk really if Kira wanted to do comparison work to the two, maybe three she'd heard about and experienced. The Elites would play around and then smite them, they had the power to without much of a worry and kill them whenever they'd so please. Cat and mouse games really, she thought bitterly with a scowl at the human wars.

The Highers were an entirely different story; they didn't have that source of unlimited power, of an advantage over the Eventide Crescendo and Freedom Fighters. They couldn't afford to fuck around and play with an enemy who'd bitten off more fingers than they could stand. This field was proof of that, Kira thought grimly, these weren't mocking little taunting fights, no light immersion this time and no gentle warnings of 'get out now'.

This was personal.

This was war.

Something thundered through the forest, shaking the ground between her bare feet as she whirled, armed and ready to carry out a death charge if she had to. No matter what, no matter who it was; she would go down fighting until she was the last one standing or until that final blow came and she'd no longer be, well, herself anymore. Just data in The World to go to wherever it decided. Something white and green flashed by, followed along by yellow and a whole damn lot of black with a sheen that made her frown.

Sekai, what the hell is going- HEY!

In a storm of swearing so creative, Kira actually impressed herself with the amount of pure venom in her tone of voice from being carried around and thrown on a rather soft, furry but definitely not comfortable to be riding back of what was the biggest fucking feline she'd ever seen in her life aside from the few forms a summons had taken. Growling in a way that would probably make the damned animal laugh if it had the ability to, she tightened her grip on her weapon and leaned low, shifting her hips to better adjust herself to the bounding, land devouring gait of the panther-like creature. Syncing herself with the girl apparently on the leader of the group- what the hell was it with her and these huge ass things that belonged in mythological stories anyways? She was drawn to them somehow, animal lover but... they seemed drawn to her like flies on shit all the same.

So, what the hell?

Huddled against the thick neck of the giant cat, Sekai responded as best she was able to, feeling the tension, the worry sicken her, souring her stomach and bile climbing up her throat the closer they came to where the first mad dash had begun.

'I'm sorry it took so long, really, I am. They're called the Nimirja and, um... they're soft?'

Kira contemplated the consequences of beating her head against the shoulder blade moving just a little in front of her and decided against it. No use causing any physical damage to herself before, you know, the next contestant came running up with a bug up their ass and wanting to destroy them all.

...you really are a surprise sometimes little one. And- incoming Flashmail for you, we'll talk later.

Almost visibly jerking on the back of the Nimirja, mental note added to formally request his name later on, Sekai scanned the first of the flashmails and felt her heart sink at the reminder that she'd abandoned them to fend for themselves while she and Talal-san had raced off to find them on their own.

Her response was apologetic and sincere, though she didn't quite know how to respond to the overall tone she was trying to read off of it.

That should do it, she thought and turned her attention back to try and converse with Kira- to be interrupted yet again.

...don't worry?? In a world such as this, with people such as he who had no idea what they were getting into?

There. She thought with a bit of minor irritation at just how... lightly he seemed to be taking the situation.

Oh for the love of every single deity known in both worlds and the ones beyond it! Sekai cursed to herself in disbelief. Trust, he... that naïve fool believed this was about something as complex yet simple as a trust issue between her and the rest of them?!

Frustration heated her cheeks as she buried her face into the soft fur in front of her, stupid, this was all so stupid. Why didn't people believe what they saw in front of their eyes? Kira was bleeding, she was bleeding and god... she hoped the others were okay.

There was no sound of battle, just silence that had her fears heightened to an unbearable level as they burst into the place they'd had to leave and froze. The sky was darkening, the enemies were still swarmed about the five ghosts- she'd been too late- and turned to them immediately. Something snapped her out of the despairing defeat, the disappointment in herself, a vibration humming louder and louder until she swore it was coming from right beneath her and- yeek!

She clung to the back, huddled tightly against the protective animal as something unnaturally loud and powerful ripped from the throats of the Nimirja and shot forth, exploding the heads in a wave of nauseous, sonic energy that she felt in her bones, in her head and body. Kira cringed, one hand against her forehead in an attempt to soothe the ache that developed as they suddenly sagged, drained of energy from the assault and gently, though shakily set them off their backs. Turning in worry, she kept one hand on the leg of the leader and turned to the ghosts left behind. It was very little but... she could apologize for her inability to return before it was too late by reviving them.

"We will be useless to you now for some time. Our strength comes from the Green Incarnation and most of its power was drained in awakening us from our slumber in the soil. You must keep moving, however. All of you. Though our master has lost the strength to coherently communicate, using the last of that skill to impart us with a message, it has spent much time studying the code of its supposed 'Prison Field.' We have been directed to tell you that all hope is not lacking. The Higher of Juk, paranoid as she is, has left a way for her to easily bring down the Wild Hunt should it ever turn against her."

“Rip Maen!”

Five soft chants in the pause of time he needed to catch his breath, the magic swiftly draining out of her body, Kira vanishing back to her ghost form as her time limit ran out and stood beside the shaking Archer with a transparent hand on her shoulder. Breathing hard, she used several of her stock in Mage's Souls to restore them to full strength and capability and rested against the sturdy leg for just a moment to regain her composure and touched the necklace around her neck to comfort her, to give herself courage knowing who'd sent it to her and responded to the flashmail that had hit her the moment she and the others had arrived.

"Spread throughout this field are five locations, marked with the sign of Juk, that hold within them the means to cripple both Saol and his army. They-"

She looked up, heart sinking low in her chest at the sudden halt in mid-word and at the... frightened look on the cat's face after the gunshot-like sound echoed again somewhere close by. Sekai jumped, looking frantically around, noticing the light dimming significantly and ready, almost ready to plunge them into total blackness.

"N-No...we were too late. There is still so much to tell."

The trees were cracking apart, Sekai realized with a lurch of her stomach, backing up a few paces herself and shaking her head, trying to deny what was going to happen even as the light plunged out around them. A soft cry escaped as the darkness fell upon her, Kira's presence, her ghostly form a dim light in the area and not bright enough for more than a little comfort... but enough to potentially make them a target if something was lurking.

"It is here."

Sick, she was going to be sick with the meaning behind that, she knew she was and couldn't help, or stop herself from opening her mouth and asking anyways.

"What is here?"

"The Swath."

Her hand clamped over her mouth, stumbling off to the side as Kira made the rounds, checking on each and every person of her own free will and sending strength, assurance and calm down her link with Sekai to make sure the girl calmed herself down before- shit. The smell of blood.

A whimper escaped from the young girl, her eyes slamming shut as memories of another blood scented field, of blood raining from the sky and of small, bony and clammy hands ripping, tearing at her, outstretched in faceless masks, of screaming, crying children and of a woman with long, black hair and a gaunt face with a terrifyingly insane laugh who commanded them. Of a mocking moon and of trees that whispered, that bled and who birthed the nightmare spawn that clawed and held her down while fingers crawled, hands groped and nails tore into her. Of something trying to crawl down her throat and-

Sekai, quit it, nothing's happened yet and you need to know; it ain't that field..

Kira's voice rang firm, rang in authority over the memories trying to break free of their bonds, trying to overwhelm and send the girl into an early panic attack that would leave her vulnerable the rest of the descent into Hell. Breathing hard, though with an icy surge of energy that made her visibly shudder from Kira's impatience, the white haired Archer shakily loaded her bow and held it tight, looking around with large eyes for the next sign of the enemy to come. What she was going to do, she didn't know, the ghostly form of the AI was at her back, looking ready to be summoned back and kick some more ass, take more names and get them the fuck out of there.

If the Nimirja were afraid of “The Swath”... then... shouldn't they all be as well?

Baron ducked as another Wildwing flew by overhead. Due to the fact that he had just been revived after being ghosted by a Trunca, his SP was at minimal amounts and slowly regenerating, meaning that he’d have to rely on items for healing until it recovered. The Twin Blade rolled to the side as the same Wildwing swooped down with talons outstretched, aiming for his eyes. Baron had no desire to have his eyeballs plucked out- the claws in his eye sockets might be awkward, along with the loss of his vision. That, and also, the injury could very well be fatal. Neither option sounded conducive to a long game-life, so Baron quickly sidestepped another similar dive, keeping his back to a tree in order to avoid an attack from behind.

The Twin Blade had forgotten about the ability that both the Wildwings and Wildings shared, the one that allowed them to become temporarily incorporeal even while they were moving. A Wilding leaped through the tree behind Baron, becoming solid for as long as it took to rake its claws across the Twin Blade’s back. Baron was thrown forward while the monster continued moving, leaping through the falling PC and running for a few meters. It turned back around, its claws scraping against the loam on the forest floor as it wheeled around to face Baron, just as the Twin Blade was getting up.

Drawing his Dante’s Blades from their sheaths, since his demand for SP was high, Baron lunged towards the Wilding with his weapons lashing out. The monster became intangible again as the Twin Blade attacked, and he stumbled forward awkwardly. A Wildwing chose that moment to dive down and cut a bloody gash across Baron’s shoulder with razor-tipped talons. He grimaced at the drop in his HP, lowered to the two-thirds mark, and checked his SP. It was just enough for a quick La Repth, and Baron sent the healing spell over the group, repairing broken skin, closing wounds, and restoring HP. It didn’t do anything for the tears and cuts in Baron’s clothing, though, and while new pink skin could be seen through the lines on his back and shoulder, his jacket was starting to become nothing more than tattered rags!

The Wilding came at Baron again, jagged claws aiming for the Twin Blade’s face. He ducked beneath the blow and slashed at the monster’s exposed belly with both of his Dante’s Blades, the weapons actually making contact with digital flesh as two long bloody gashes appeared. The Wilding howled in pain, leaping back from the impact. Baron grinned at the monster’s discomfort, now that it was finally getting a taste of its own medicine, as well as the Skill Drain effect that took place as the second slash had cut into the Wilding. A good portion of Baron’s SP, around twenty-five or so, had been restored in a single burst. He was finally at around a quarter of his maximum SP, but most of his more powerful skills were unusable until he regained another fifteen SP.

Content with the amount he had for the time being, Baron returned his Dante’s Blades to their sheaths and pulled out one of his latest acquisitions, the Mukuro. An aura of darkness surrounded the Ani-Element blades as they were yanked from their sheaths, contrasting with the natural light of the forest around. Baron could admire the contrast later, though- the injured Wildling was charging again, running forward with an irregular gait as it tried to avoid widening the wound. If the cut had been any deeper, the monster’s innards would have been spilled across the forest floor along with the large quantity of blood that stained the green-and-brown loam with dark splotches of crimson. Baron watched as the wildling approached, slowed down a good deal by its injury. The monster would fall easily if Baron chose to press the attack.

Before he could do so, though, a green spell-circle appeared at his feet. A strong wind picked up, rushing from the ground in a screaming rush, forming a tornado with leaves, twigs, and thorns caught up in the gale. Baron was thrown upwards temporarily by the Juk Rom spell, small cuts adorning his body here and there. Landing hard on the ground, the Twin Blade got up for a moment only to have the Wilding tackle him, bearing him back down to the dirt. The monster’s claws lashed out wildly, trying to claw Baron’s face off, but the Twin Blade held it back with his hands, his weapons lying on the forest floor a short distance away. Shallow gashes still crossed Baron’s face, from a slash of the Wilding’s claws, but the wounds weren’t serious. A cut on his left cheek bled lightly, a thin stream of blood flowing from the wound and dripping off of his chin, and a similar injury across his forehead finished off the list of damages done to the Twin Blade. However, more would be added onto them if the Twin Blade didn’t remove the clawing, snarling monster from atop him!

Kicking out with his knee, since it wasn’t pinned like his upper body was, Baron drove it into the Wilding’s midriff, aiming for the already open wound. Due to the struggle that was taking place, though, the Twin Blade’s aim was thrown off a bit, and he missed the shot, hitting the monster in the side instead. The next one, though, hit dead-on, and a wet crack was heard upon impact. Baron was sure that he had snapped one of the Wilding’s ribs with that attack, as well as opened the wound further, if the amount of blood was any indication. The crimson liquid splashed over Baron’s silver shirt, leaving stains that were an off-shade of red that wasn’t quite light enough to be pink, but slightly resembling such. The Wilding, after the attack, could not take any more abuse and collapsed atop Baron, though it vanished quickly, the body going slack as it dissolved into trash data.

Getting to his feet slowly, on slightly shaky legs, Baron took a quick survey of his HP and SP levels. Both were at a level just above half. After he picked up his dropped weapons, the Twin Blade sent another La Repth over the group he was with, since he was sure the others were become as worse for wear as he was from the non-stop fighting. The Twin Blade didn’t relax in the least once his health rose again, though, as two Wildwings flew towards him, flanking a roaring Trunca as it came charging towards him. However, now that he had some more of his SP back, around fifty or so, Baron wasn’t going to let the larger monster make a pincushion of him again. Gripping his Mukuro tightly, the Twin Blade answered the Trunca’s charge with one of his own.

The Wildwings got to Baron first, though, and the Twin Blade had no choice but to deal with the massive birds before he could combat the giant Trunca. Replacing his Mukuro with the old fall-back, his Dante’s Blades that he had possessed for a while, Baron leapt at the nearest of the two monsters, a plan already forming in his head. As expected, the Wildwing made itself incorporeal, as the birds tended to do, and flew through the Twin Blade, becoming solid again as it neared its companion. Baron had been hoping for such a maneuver, especially since it drew both groups of combatants away from the Trunca, and allowed the Twin Blade some time to deal with the two Wildwings before the larger monster could get involved and make it a three-on-one brawl with a certain treasure hunter doomed for sure.

As he approached, Baron let his Dante’s Blades catch fire from the Blazing Wheel skill that began to engulf them. As he charged forward, though, another roar from the Trunca drew the Twin Blade’s attention, even for a moment. However, that moment of distraction saved Baron, as he recognized the sound and quickly reacted, raising his left hand in the air towards the Trunca. Recently, another similar monster had ghosted Baron with a barrage of needles shot out from its body. The Twin Blade preferred to keep himself alive and free of the spikes.

“Gan Zot!”

A rich brown aura enveloped Baron’s hand as the spell took hold. Between the Trunca and the Twin Blade, a wall of rocks- a large pillar, really- began to rise from the ground, almost in slow motion. Baron’s eyes saw the needle-like fur coming towards him, poison glistening in the small bits of sunlight. The stone pillar was coming up at about the same pace… but would it be up in time to stop the majority of the spikes? To the Twin Blade, it looked like he reacted too late, and that he’d soon be ghosted as a pincushion again…

With a long series of “thunks” as the needles met stone, time seemed to return to normal. One or two needles were missed by the Gan Zot, and flew past without hitting Baron, embedding themselves in a nearby tree. Small circles of rot formed as the potent poison in each of the needles took effect beneath the bark. However, the main body of spiky fur struck the rock wall and stuck into it, keeping Baron completely safe from the barrage of poisonous spines. With a sigh of relief, the Twin Blade turned back to the two Wildwings, though he was certain that neither of them had missed their opening for an attack on him.

Unfortunately, he was right. Both Wildwings swooped by, tearing into his shoulders with their razor-like claws. Baron was slammed into his own rock wall as the dual attacks landing, a good chunk of his HP going out the window. Grimacing, Baron flailed out with his Dante’s Blades, trying to cut at the talons that held him against the stone. Several attempts proved futile, though, since he couldn’t get his blades around to the right angle with his usual grip. Grimacing, the Twin Blade flipped both weapons around so that they were in a standard knife-holding position, the hilt held almost like one would do with a sword. It was an awkward way to hold a blade like Baron’s in fighting, compared to the backhand grip that the Twin Blade class usually implemented in battle. However, it provided more range when Baron was trying to slash at something while his upper arms were pinned.

With his new position on his weapons, the Twin Blade slashed out at the talons holding him against the stone wall. Even then, he could feel the rock vibrating as he was held against it, something on the other side smashing into it with terrific force. The spell-created barricade was starting to crumble under the blows, and Baron knew that it wasn’t going to last long, so started flailing about with his blades, trying to get the two Wildwings off of him before the Trunca broke through and proceeded to bash the Twin Blade into a bloody pulp, cliché and all. His left blade caught solid flesh, stopped with a sickening jerk as Baron slashed through muscle and hit bone. The Wildwing that took the hit screeched in pain, the shrill noise sending shivers up the Twin Blade’s spine. The monster’s grip on him was released, and Baron pulled his arm away. Using his now-freed hand, the Twin Blade slashed at the other Wildwing, getting it off of his shoulder. Once both were off, and screeching angrily, Baron ran, trying to get some room to fight in.

Weaving through the trees, the Twin Blade heard his stone wall collapse behind him, the Trunca roaring at the fallen obstacle. The crashing sound of the monster giving chase again caused Baron to redouble his pace, running as fast as he could to find a strategic place to fight. His SP was starting to get low again, and there was no way that he was going to test his luck in a contest of physical strength against the gorilla-like Trunca. That was an invitation to disaster that Baron wasn’t going to take. He continued to run, but in his haste he missed an outstretched root from one of the gigantic trees around him, one that twisted just above ground, thick as a man’s torso and strong as well. The Twin Blade’s foot caught the root, and he was set off-balance, falling flat on his face and sliding a few feet due to his original momentum. Friction took hold a second later, and Baron slid to a stop in the middle of a large clearing.

As the Twin Blade started to get to his feet, another cry was heard. A howl almost like a wolf’s filled the woods, and Baron saw a pair of Wildings approaching from the woods in front of him. The same Trunca that was following him before roared again, directly behind Baron, and the Twin Blade knew that he was trapped. His speed could only do so much, and without a high amount of SP, he was going to be forced into one-on-three physical combat, which was not one of his specialties. In the pressure situation, he had forgotten the stash of Mage’s Souls that he had. Baron resigned himself to being ghosted again, but held his Dante’s Blades up defiantly. If he was going down…

Stop it with the cliché lines already!

Baron shook his head as he heard another sound, one that he couldn’t quite make out. However, the Wildings and Trunca seemed to hear it just fine, and backed away hesitantly, as if afraid of what was coming. An uncertain step here, a confused look there- each of the monsters looked ready to flee. Baron hoped that whatever was worrying the large group of enemies was friendly, because he was worn and wouldn’t have been able to go on much longer. It was then that he remembered the Mage’s Souls that he had in his inventory, and pulled one out, crushing the item in his hand and allowing his SP to regenerate back to full. Whatever put fear in the mindless swarm of monsters was coming, and if it was a foe, Baron planned on meeting it with all that he had. A Health Drink to fully restore his HP completed the Twin Blade’s preparations.

While awaiting a possibly impending doom, Baron’s mind wandered to Talal and Sekai. What had happened to the two of them? Were they still alive, searching for the help from this “Gan Incarnation”? Had Baron, Shenmock, and Kira been able to hold off the pursuing monsters long enough for the two female players to escape, at least? Or had they been slain and now lay ghosted somewhere in this deceptively calm forest? Doubt filled the Twin Blade’s mind, and he briefly entertained the notion of sending a short flashmail to them before whatever was coming arrived. However, the thought was quickly dismissed- what if the two were running for their lives at the moment, still trying to find this aid that the Eventide Crescendo was promised? A moment’s distraction could be the death of them, and Baron didn’t want to be the cause of that. Biting his lip lightly, though he couldn’t feel it (the motion still seemed appropriate), the Twin Blade simply waited.

What happened next was… unexpected. A large group of cat-like creatures, though much larger than any ordinary cat, regardless of species, broke into the clearing while Baron watched. They were a forest-green color, as expected by the field that they resided in, but they were… well, the best word that Baron could think of at the moment was majestic, though it hardly gave credit to the sheer feeling of awe that the creatures produced in him. Thick whiskers emerged from either side of their faces, floating in the air as if in water, moving slightly with every shift in the gentle breeze. The cats reminded Baron of another old game reference, looking oddly similar to the Coeurls from any old Final Fantasy game. It could just be a coincidence, of course.

Regardless of, though, Baron raised his blades as one of them broke off from the group and approached him. Its whiskers moved slowly towards the Twin Blade, like tentacles reaching to grab him and crush the life out of him. He backed away uncertainly for a second, but a flash of movement drew his attention to one of the other cat-creatures, and Baron’s jaw dropped. Was that Talal riding on one of the creatures? If so… did that mean that they were allies?

Baron was distracted long enough for the remaining cat-creature to loop its whiskers around his waist, and as they pulled tight in a firm grip, the Twin Blade started and almost attacked with his weapons, attempting to sever the whiskers. A glare from the giant feline immediately informed Baron that it wouldn’t be a wise idea to antagonize it, so he relaxed again, closing his eyes. If that was Talal that he had seen atop the other monster, then it could be alright… though Baron never let go of his blades, just in case. Strange things had already happened in this field, and he wouldn’t be surprised if similarly odd occurrences continued.

A second later, the Twin Blade was set atop the cat-creature’s back, and instructed to hold on. Baron did so, gripping a double handful of fur between his fingers and holding it tightly. He had never ridden a horse in real life, let alone a giant catlike monster, and while he understood the principle, the Twin Blade had no experience with any sort of riding. He was below a novice in skill, and fully expected to get thrown off as soon as the monster started moving. However, the feline’s whiskers doubled back and tied together, almost like a set of reins. Baron realized that the monster hadn’t meant for him to hold onto the fur, but instead to grip the makeshift harness. Grinning ruefully, the Twin Blade held on tightly, and tried to remember what he had read about riding.

Grip with the knees… no, was it “guide” with the knees? Pull the reins lightly to stop… do these creatures react to “giddyup”? What about-

Baron’s thoughts were interrupted as the monster took off with a jolt, forcing the Twin Blade to focus on maintaining his grip. However, he was able to relax and enjoy the ride when he realized that the feline had a smooth, steady gait, causing Baron to hardly move with each stride. At least, there was little movement vertically- the monster moved amazingly fast, covering meters every few seconds, and the Twin Blade atop its back marveled at the pace. At the rate that they were moving, it wouldn’t take more than a few minutes to get back to the rest of the group. Plenty of time to get things settled, especially with Sekai, since he hadn’t seen her. Scratch that- the Archer could be seen riding one of the cat-creatures in the vanguard of the pack, Kira not far behind. While he had a moment, Baron sent a quick flashmail to the impromptu leader of their little rescue group, hoping to get a few explanations.

Flashmails passed back and forth as the two conversed, Baron getting information about the catlike creatures- apparently named the Nimirja- as well as hearing a bit of Sekai’s own concerns. To the Twin Blade, it seemed like the Archer was being overly apologetic. He simply advised her to stop worrying about things that she had no control over. Unfortunately, according to the next flashmail, it seemed that Sekai wasn’t as sure of herself as Baron had thought when he had first met her. The female Archer seemed to constantly blame herself, even though Baron couldn’t see any fault in what she had done. Sekai had done everything in her power to get help, and while it had taken a while, that was to be expected- no one knew what they’d find or when they’d find it. Sekai had done well, so why was she still so gloomy?

Baron sent one last flashmail, meant to reassure her, but the response that he got was quite surprising, and he almost lost his grip on his Nimirja’s back. He scanned through it again, trying to find the part that had nearly thrown him. It was somewhere near the beginning. There- in the third paragraph:

Looking over it, trying to make sense of it, Baron glanced over at the female Archer who was riding the lead Nimirja. She seemed normal- how could she be comatose in the real world? That alone made no sense. She was active, speaking calmly and surely, and she was playing the game. All of those signs pointed to Sekai being just a common, everyday player. Baron just couldn’t believe that she was in a coma in real life… perhaps it just was code with some other meaning that the female Archer was used to using, one that the other members of the Eventide Crescendo would understand. Either way, it seemed too implausible, even with the next line about how “this is not a game.” Baron could understand that they were saving comatose people in real life, but actually having one or more people under the same affliction in their ranks? That was the line that belief would not cross.

The last part warned Baron about making foolish mistakes- any chance of putting the group in true danger, not just in the game but possibly in real life. There was no worries there- the Twin Blade wasn’t going to let his comrades be truly hurt- if nothing else, they helped fill the void that was his life. In real life, that was. Locke, the person behind the treasure hunter that everyone knew, had no drive to live, had no will to do anything more than exist. The World was, in essence, a momentary break from the mundane dreariness that threatened to engulf him.

Though he was top of his class, an honor student, and everyone said that he was destined to do great things, Locke didn’t care about all of that. The goal of a human’s life was to strive to obtain a perfection that could never actually be gained, but the young man had come as close to such a mark as humanly possible. That left nothing to try to obtain, nothing to work at. Life became the same repetition over and over. Locke had stopped living, in a sense. While he was alive biologically, he was dead in both mind and soul. The young man had sunken into a depression from which no one could free him. His life had felt empty. Some of that still lingered in Baron even then, since he knew that The World would end one day, and that same depression that he had been drowning in before would come back and swallow him for good.

“…Your own safety and well-being?” I don’t care much about either of those, to be honest. I care about you guys, that’s it, though. Even if I don’t care about my own life, you all have something to live for…

That’s what Baron wanted to say to Sekai, at that moment. It was the honest, blatant truth, and something in the Twin Blade wanted to scream it at the Archer. She couldn’t understand. Maybe Sekai’s situation was worse, that was fine, but Baron didn’t like that she believed he didn’t understand what could happen. The problem was that he didn’t care. At least, he didn’t care about his own being. Whatever happened to him wouldn’t be an issue, but he would prevent anything that would cause his friends pain. They had everything to live for before them, while he had nothing. That was what Sekai needed to know, needed to understand.

But something held Baron back, stopped him from yelling until his throat was raw. No matter how much he wanted to make Sekai understand, he was unable to morally. The female Archer already looked as if she suffered so much, and the fact that she constantly seemed to blame herself made it worse. He was unable to bring himself to the point where he’d add his own miseries to hers. The Twin Blade planned to suffer in silence, regardless of what would occur- no one deserved to be burdened down like that. Putting on a strong face, he forced himself to continue as if nothing had happened.

The group arrived back at the place where the others had been fighting. The past tense was true because all of them were ghosts, dead in various ways. Baron winced at the horde of monsters still around them, wondering if they’d be able to clear them away, even with the large number of allies they had obtained. The remainder of the Eventide Crescendo and their allies numbered only half that of the monsters around them. Baron prepared to leap off of his Nimirja’s back with his blades drawn, but the whiskers that had been used as reins untied and wrapped around the Twin Blade to prevent him from moving. Baron struggled for a minute before relaxing, understanding that he would only get in the way of what was to come.

A low hum seemed to echo from the throat of the Nimirja beneath Baron, and the Twin Blade almost felt it rumbling through his head. Something about the sound was flowing through his headset, going from a simple vibration to something that started to push at Baron’s mind, something that started to make his head ache. Locke, in the real world, resisted the urge to simply tear off his headset and turn off the game. The discomfort wasn’t enough to actually be painful, yet, so Baron sat on his Nimirja’s back, gripping the feline’s fur with both hands as he tried to block out the sound. At least he wasn’t getting it as badly as the various monsters were- bit by bit, their heads seemed to literally explode, torn apart from the sonic vibration. Before long, the entire clearing was left clear of any live monsters. Five sorry-looking ghosts floated among the corpses, but Sekai quickly revived them with a quintet of Rip Maen spells, followed by a few Mage’s Souls to get everyone’s SP recovered. When everyone stood again, the Nimirja continued giving their instructions, talking about a way to defeat Saol and the rest of his army. Baron listened intently, trying to catch every word. It seemed that there were five places in the forest marked with the sign of Juk, and they held the key to destroying the army of monsters.

However, before the Nimirja could go on and explain, a loud crack echoed through the field, and Baron looked up to see where the sound echoed from. His vision caught the skyline, and the Twin Blade realized that the once-sunlit forest was now enshrouded in shadow. It was odd how he had not noticed the darkening before, though that was probably because he had been lost in thought before. Another crack echoed through the air, and Baron finally saw the source- a tree practically shattered nearby. The wind picked up slightly, and the Twin Blade caught the faintest scent of blood, before it suddenly filled the air around him.

A thought broke through as Baron took in the odor, and he realized that he was actually smelling something while playing the game! Removing his headset momentarily, Locke looked around in real life, testing the air with his nose. The coppery smell of blood was gone, vanished, as if… No. Locke couldn’t believe that the smell originated from the game. It wasn’t possible- there wasn’t anywhere on his VR equipment to simulate smell, and yet, it had been right there until he had taken off the headset. Was it possible that what Sekai had said was true, in a literal sense. Could one actually be inside the game? There were so many things that didn’t make sense at the moment, but in the core of his being, Locke felt as if the very foundation of everything he knew had been shaken.

Slipping his VR visor back on somewhat unsteadily, Locke was again greeted to the scent of blood before Baron reanimated in front of the group. He caught the last words that Sekai spoke with the Nimirja, as well as the reply, before everything seemed to momentarily stop.

“W-What is here?”

“The Swath.”

Somehow, those two words seemed to hang in the air, bearing a tangible weight to them as they were spoken. Baron knew, right then and there, that this thing, the Swath, was dangerous, just by the way that the Nimirja seemed to fear it, their ears flattened back in terror. He gripped his Dante’s Blades, switching out his more powerful Mukuro just for a slightly increased sense of security. His ears perked up, his eyes moved quickly from side to side, and the Twin Blade simply watched and waited as whatever was coming, came.

The sky grew darker with each passing moment. Sekai’s screams into the air may not have been the best of plans had the pair managed to lose the horde that may have been hot on their trail. Help was promised it seemed, but apparently they must have forgotten to give directions on how to find it while giving such promise. Talal honed into any and all senses the game would allow her, listening to every sound, eyes frantically searching for friend and foe alike. The dimming light not making such a task easy in the slightest, but she was up for the challenge. She may not be strong enough to physically fight most of what the field had offered so far, but she could certainly keep watch.

Her brief look back to those the duo were leaving behind apparently warranted an even more brief jerk of the Twin Blade’s avatar in the opposite direction. Being drug through the forest by the wrist was not exactly what she had in mind when she signed up for this venture; the young girl wondering if she should yank back in the opposite direction to break free. The expression on the face of the small Archer made her think better of it and just did her best to keep pace. Retracting her arm would seemingly do more harm than good for the time being.

Urgency of finding this Gan Incarnation was evident from the moment Nemera had sent the flash mail and as much as Talal wanted to stay with those who were familiar to her and fight, deep down she knew she wouldn’t have lasted long; only causing the others to revive her more often than not and possibly being more of a distraction than a help. Resolving to her current predicament, she mentally noted the sudden respect she had for her much shorter running companion. There was obvious emotion seeping through her expressions yet, she was still able to keep her mind on the objective. Something that Talal would need to work on if she was going to survive this field.

The pair continued running, ever searching, hearing the loud footsteps of something very close by; that something making itself known when Trunca’s stepped out of the tree line. Sekai immediately put herself between Talal and the large furry? almost gorilla like creatures. No way would she be able to survive getting hit from one of them physically. These things shine like they are coated in an oil of some sort. I wonder if that’s what the shine is? Switching out for her Leather Armor, a panic stricken trembling hand raised, a Vak Kruz forming above the closest Trunca’s head. Several brightly colored orbs appeared, a rain of fire balls and streams hit their target but nothing happened except for minor damage. The green colored sheen that emanated from their thick outer covering didn’t catch fire like that of a well dipped torch, but rather acted as if it was more of a fireproof barrier; the fire hitting and dissipating or trailing off to hit the ground leaving the remnants of hot embers scattered through the wood and leaf debris that made up the forest floor. So if it’s not an oily substance, what could it be?

Sekai’s out of place vulgarity and a slap to the back of the Archer’s neck broke the Twin Blade from her momentary train of thought and switched it over to trying to understand why she would be acting as if something had bitten her. Tawny colored eyes shimmering like glossed over glass beads, Sekai gave more of a command than a request wanting Talal to aim another fire spell at a specific item, a small item at that. Never having practiced aiming her spells to such a small specific area before, uncertainty in her own abilities now weighed heavily on the girl’s shoulders. The challenge of it all was already set in motion, the flask in question already in mid-air headed towards its intended target. With no time to consider the alternatives, another Vak Kruz was muttered, brown eyes looking strained with deep concentration and a little fear.

Only enough time was taken to make sure the spell hit its target, fire and oil mixed exploding in a grand display of power that reaped instant havoc on the Trunca who had managed to get dangerously close to the frantic females. As more Trunca began to emerge from the trees, Talal’s vision took a sudden unexpected change in direction once again. Looking down at her arm, a small hand was again wrapped around her wrist basically dragging her along as fast as their legs would carry them. She could have kept stride a lot easier with the free use of both arms but found herself feeling as though trying to break the grasp would somehow put more strain on the small girl in front of her. Short term memory recalling the Archer’s eyes before issuing the command for the fire spell to be cast. Is she crying?

The girls continued their non-stop sprint through the forest without much positive reinforcement they were going to find what they were searching for; ear piercing screeches and heavy footsteps constantly gaining ground on them. They had been lucky so far and had not run into much of anything. The one encounter with the Trunca’s had been more of a distract them with a bright ball of fire and run like hell strategy that happened to work. Still trying to keep one eye on their surroundings, Talal kept the other one on Sekai. Not really the reason the eye was there but glad it was when the silvery-white haired girl stumbled, falling to the ground and doing her best to leave an imprint of her face in the dirt; her grasp of the Twin Blade’s wrist knocked loose about half-way down.

Catching herself from falling on top of her, Talal spun around on one foot before stabilizing enough to offer assistance. Reaching down, one hand ironically grabbing small girl’s wrist, the other firmly grasped around her upper arm heaving her upward. Once the hand holds were set, she looked up and was immediately faced with a wall of Trunca’s. Wildlings standing by their side like trained attack dogs. Their cohorts the Wildwings were circling the duo from above like vultures waiting for the wolf pack to leave so they could have their turn at a tasty morsel before they too settled down with the rest. Their luck had just run out.

She heard a soft “Thank you” come from Sekai but honestly couldn’t take her eyes off of the enemy in front of her. Her eyes grew wider with fear and panic that practically paralyzed her where she stood if it hadn’t been for her hands being pulled back towards the ground. A glance downward found Sekai collapsing to the ground as if her legs were giving out on her. A quick look at her health would show she was still at half to almost three quarters of full strength which instantly confused the Talal. If she still has a good amount of her health bar, why does she look like she is in pain? Dark brown eyes widened even farther if that was even possible as a couple of the floating puzzle pieces in her mind just locked together in place.

She can’t be. Is Sekai one of those trapped here in the game? One of those players that can feel everything that happens to them? Oh GOD! If she is, why in the Hell is she even here in this field?

Her thoughts only took seconds, but in that time, long dark whips of who knows what came from behind her impaling, ripping and just flat out annihilating the enemy that once stood before her. By some grace those same whips had not done the same to her and Sekai. Taking no time to thank the deities for their saving grace, she yanked up hard on the arm still within her grasp.

Come on girl, get up! You can do this. Show me some more of that determination from earlier. Don‘t give up on me now.

Once the girl was up, Talal took a hesitant look behind her. Large panther-like creatures were sauntering towards them with a low rumble in their throat. The female Twin Blade preferring White Tigers, but panthers had always run a close second in her realm of favorite animals. Now however was not the time to be marveling in the types of creatures this game could create but rather trying to figure out how they were going to get out of the mess they were in. The numbers of the approaching herd was about half that of the Wild Hunt they had fled from, but still posed a very large threat considering it was the herd against…two. The odds were not in the girls’ favor.

For reasons beyond Talal’s comprehension, Sekai reached out a hand to pet? the first of the regal creatures to approach them. Her actions were slow and somehow serene in a weird sort of way and the young Twin Blade just stared on in disbelief as a discernable speech rumbled out of the feline’s mouth. She listened closely even though the conversation was not directed at her, managing to understand enough to say that it appeared these Nimirja were the allies they were searching for and a gift of sorts had been sent for Sekai through them. Talal noticed a multi-colored necklace in the Archer’s hand and for a just a moment, Sekai seemed to be lost in thought.

The dark whips from before curled around Sekai and whisked her up onto the back of the Nimirja. Before she could react the same was happening to Talal as she was hoisted up onto the back of the next Nimirja; noticing that the whips were actually the whiskers of the feline that could grow and retract at will. They had hidden power and strength that first glances could never even fathom. Two whiskers came up behind the Nimirja’s head, offered to the two small female’s on each of their respective rides, like reigns but meant more like a security rope to hold onto. Never would Talal have thought her experience riding horses would have come into play during a game. Positioning herself so that she gripped with her legs, she wrapped her hands around the whisker whips a couple of times before leaning forward and prayed that would be enough to keep the lightweight girl from falling off.

As they approached the trio they had left behind, only three of the Nimirja stopped to pick up Baron, Shenmock and the other female. Dark brown eyes lit up when she saw they were still alive. Somehow they had managed against the odds. Within moments of being whisked up in the same manner, Shenmock wanted to know some details. Only offering their name and that they had literally saved the pair with excellent timing, she didn’t honestly know what else to say. No further communication was made so he had at least accepted her reply for now, which was good.

Nothing could be heard as the group of allies approached the battlefield. What had happened? Were they victorious? How? Shaking her head, how didn’t matter if it were true, just the mere fact. A momentary feeling of joy managed to slip into the Twin Blade at the thought only to be completely shattered as five ghosts came into view. Looking around the army of Wild Hunt still standing was more than what they had brought with them, but there was something or rather someone or two perhaps missing. Counting the number of ghosts again, she thought there should be six and the big guy on the horse was gone. Where did they go?

The Wild Hunt seemingly stopped in their tracks at the sight of the Nimirja’s presence. Remembering how the large cats had disposed of the much smaller in number group from before, Talal was unsure how they would cope against the more than three to one odds set before them. Her ponderings were answered with a low rumble coming from every member of the pride. The girl tightened her grip once more certain that they would be taking off in another neck snapping jolt if she wasn’t prepared for it. What actually came astonished her. Every one of the monsters heads began to explode. It was like watching water balloons exploding on impact that were filled with a slimy green liquid instead of water. Eyes wide and a jaw that was gaping, she watched on as every single one of Wild Hunt was exterminated and vanished into code.

Whiskers curled around her waist and the waist of the other four members as they were all lifted and placed back on the ground. She looked over at the Nimirja standing beside her and even though she may not be able to feel the touch like those trapped here, she gently set her hand on the shoulder. She was eternally grateful for their assistance and the simple gesture and a respectful smile and bow of the head was all she had to offer in return. The creature looked very strained and quick glance at the rest, so did all the others. The sky was still growing increasingly dark giving off an eerie and unnatural feeling. She didn’t like it one bit and couldn’t seem to allow herself to feel the slightest bit settled or calm even with the Wild Hunt gone. Talal walked up to stand near Sekai. She still looked shaken and the female Twin Blade wanted to make sure someone was standing close. There was no reason anyone else needed to know what Talal had figured out about her while they were alone, unless the young Archer chose to make it known. By no means were they anything but questing companions, but she would give anyone in the party the same respect to their privacy.

The five ghostly players revived back to solid form and oddly enough, the female ally that had been created? from Sekai went back to a ghost form but stood by the Archer’s side, a hand on her shoulder which warranted a raised eyebrow from the black-haired female. The Nimirja spoke to the group, now reassembled, about the “Higher of Juk” was paranoid and there was a way to use her own safety plan against “her” and against Saol. Talal mentally noting they were looking for a female, five markings of the sign of Juk whatever that was, and that the big guy on the horse must be Saol since she had not taken the time to target him before bolting from the field. The Nimirja stopped, the trees around them began cracking and any discernable light from above had completely vanished. The pack of allies seemed unsettled at the sounds and the darkening of the sky which didn’t bode well for the small group of players. If such a powerful ally was uncomfortable, then she figured the Eventide Crescendo should be down right scared out of their wits and running for their life while they still had a chance. She heard Sekai ask what was coming.

”The Swath.”

At that instant, a scent filled the air like hot melting iron perhaps. She thought quickly about whether she had left the stove on or another hot appliance before sitting down to log on and came up blank. A status check of expressions on the parties’ faces gave way to everything from a blank stare of the unknown to pure disgust at the possibilities of what was out there. The smell was coming from the game, but it didn’t make much sense that Talal would be able smell it. She hadn’t seen any Dread Code, hadn’t touched any that she knew of and to her limited knowledge thus far, that was the only thing that could cause such a sensation. So the question was, how could she be smelling something?

Weapons were being drawn in preparation and the female Twin Blade was no different. She would be ready; ready to fight, ready to get slaughtered…who knew at this point. Anything was possible and the Nimirja were more than proof of that.

The streets of Dun Loireag were as quiet as ever.

That was the problem with life on a higher-leveled server. Nothing wild or unruly ever happened there. Everyone on the server was either a high enough level to know better than to do stupid things, or with someone that would abandon them if they did. The Fist Fighter pined for the day in which someone would fall off one of the planks here in the Highland City. Everyone here knew what they were doing. Everyone knew the rules, and most everyone lived by them. This was another thing that made the boy nervous. He no longer existed within the rules.

From the time he came in contact with Teishoya, he knew that his life in The World would change. While he knew that the activities of the AI would be frowned upon, his character hadn’t warranted deletion. When he fell into the leagues of the Eventide Crescendo, he was labeled a Cyber Terrorist, but there was no outward sign of him being a part of that. Now, after one bad decision, a good look from the wrong person could get him deleted. Why had he dragged those two newbies out there with him? Hell, even Slicer stood a chance of facing the worst just for being an accomplice. All any of them had ever wanted to do was help someone in distress. Now the Fist Fighter’s quiet love of the Rai element would be glaringly obvious to anyone who might see him without the jacket. The Thunderbird wings that were permanently etched into his back were merely a symbol of something greater within. The set of ghastly subtle bird’s eyes that lie, nearly invisible, over his own only hinted at what lie within. The sad truth was that his data had been hacked, an anima fused, and now CC could delete him without a second thought.

Second thoughts, now there is one hell of a thought process for me, eh? The roc inside was quiet, but questioning of what that could have possibly meant. The silver-haired child hardly felt like explaining the whole Eventide Crescendo incident to the bird, but he opened his mind as best he could so that it could still obtain the information. The link that the two shared while in this World was new, but strong enough for them to understand each other when necessary. Even just the memory brought up thoughts of Nemera, of her face, her skill, her smell. Vanilla and steel had never blended to create such beauty before, and Cent doubted it ever would again. She was everything in this World to him right now, but there is no way that he could show her how much she meant.

The bird’s question wasn’t so much heard as it was felt. Cent knew that explaining something like this to a program that had never felt love was something that would take far more time than he was willing to invest. Because I can’t, you big dumb birdbrain. I just can’t! The connection between the two felt faint after that, almost non-existent. Had he really just insulted a mythological creature? While he was questioning things, who was to say that he couldn’t? What was it that was holding him back? Was there something really there at all, or was his pride the only thing standing in the way?

What kept him from his promise?

He couldn’t take it. The thought of leaving everything like it was right now, of not fighting by their side, it was driving him crazy. What made it right? What made it the proper course of action? How in the living hell could he just leave it be? This was his fight, just as much as it was anyone else’s in that party. He knew some of them, hell he had sent one of them. He couldn’t just leave things like this. It was so wrong, and both he and the bird knew it. There was no denying that the proper course of action lie in a field he didn’t know the name of. He did, however, know the name of a man who would know where they were. All it would take would be a simple Flashmail and a three-letter name.

And so it was done. He knew that Gyl wouldn’t be one to turn help away, and that boy was the one person that could put him into contact with Nemera and Sidhe. He needed to get to that field, to the Juk prison, to help the free that god-forsaken Incarnation. Okay, that was a little much, as the Incarnations were incredibly important. The Fist Fighter would much rather see the crystals in the hands of the Eventide Crescendo than those of the Highers. While he wasn’t sure of everything that would happen if they fell into the wrong hands, but the word Yamiyo was not a pleasant thought for even the ignorant.

There it was. His ticket to catching up with the Eventides lie right there in the root town that he had been avoiding all morning. The action he had desired was right where the idiocy resided. The only thing disconcerting was the phrase “Knight Of War”. While the Fist Fighter couldn’t claim that he knew what that meant at all, if Gyl had to keep his data encrypted to prevent them from getting to him, things would not be all that enjoyable if the Knights found out his name. Knights. How he despised them. Nothing but amateur policemen in a World that rewarded effort, so long as it complied with their rules. At this point, he wasn’t sure if that was his sentiment or that of the anima, but both options left a sour taste in his mouth as he appeared in the Aqua Capital.

The Knights of War was apparently the fancy way of referring to the scattered group of players that remained after what people were referring to as a “Root Town Massacre”. The Fist Fighter fought back a bout of laughter, but the roc let it be known that he was highly amused as well. Both sets of eyes were busy absorbing the scene around them, so much so that it took a moment for the boy to realize that his nametag was screwed up. He prayed that this protection offered by Gyl would hold as long as the unseen hero would need to get the duo into the field. He would hate to have to start kicking asses so early on into his rescue mission. Normally that sort of thing was reserved until the protagonist made it to his destination. A turn on this long held cliché would just be anticlimactic. A quick thank you Flashmail was scribed as the Fist Fighter waited to be whisked off, and the boy managed to get it sent right before the rings descended around him.

His mind was bombarded the moment he touched down. The sights, the sounds, the foreboding feelings, everything was one conglomerated panic fest. The only thing that made complete and total sense was the scent that he knew he shouldn’t be able to smell. It was thick in the air, the warm, metallic taste of blood. His mind reached the same conclusion as that of the panicking bird within. Danger. While he couldn’t have said that he had anticipated anything but that, the fact that he could smell something so early on into the outing was more than a little worrisome. He did his best to brush it off as he scribed one final Flashmail.

-Zan-

Zan watched, almost in a pain-riddled trance, as the second of Saol's blades danced above his head in a lingering threat. Time played to its usual role of torture and made the moment that it fell down take centuries to pass, centuries of the lycanthrope writhing in the agony that danced along his nerves like lightning. Nulus's desire to leave the vambraces, to fend off the attack went on ignored. Both of them knew that it wouldn't be in time and, once Zan was killed, there was a good chance the Shade would ghost as well. All the Heavy Blade could do was glare shaky daggers of hate at the horse-mounted son of a bitch and prey that his end came swifter than it was. When everything seemed to slip back into normal flow, when his mind stopped antagonizing itself, what happened couldn't have been further from expectation. Exangelus, a Twin Blade and a black-clad stranger, swooped in like the proverbial bat out of a hell and got Zan the fuck out of there in a roll of awkward limbs that ended in mutual taste of Health Drinks. The werewolf was too dazed, and too proud, to give much of a mention of thanks, but it was mumbled like so much else that day as he swaggered to his feet. It seemed he wasn't being let off the hook quite yet. Glacial irises swept over the party pack of enemies with knowledge that it wasn't time to rest.

Never time. Always fighting.

Stop being a baby and grab your sword.

Ignoring his companion's heckling, Zan did grab up the Plasma Blade once more in preparation for the ensuing slaughter. If it was even possible, the number of creatures seemed to have grown that much more since his time on the ground, their visages a mesh of briar, barbs and beaks. He was so tired. The Lycan's normal pool of stamina seemed to refute this possibility, but it could not be denied. Vague suspicions of the Merged trying to pull him in again arose, but there was no time to contemplate such trivial matters in the face of a horde of gnashing teeth and clacking claws. They wanted sacrifice for the intrusion, they wanted flesh and blood, and he would be their offering plate. An easy heft of the broadsword cleaved one, two, three Thicket Creepers down in an effortless stroke, but it was like swatting at a swarm of enraged bees. You may kill a handful, but dozens more buzzed in to take their place with anger revived anew and stingers seeking out a home. For a second, unnamable fatigue made the weapon droop, and in that moment a slimy fist took its chance to careen into Zan's jaw. The impact of the Trunca's punch rocked him but did not force him to the floor. Not the first one, anyway. Suddenly unable to so much as lift a finger, all the lycanthrope found himself kept up by were the constant hazing of cracking knuckles until his face - not given the time to heal over - was swollen like a veteran boxer and his organs were flooded with internal bleeding.

He wanted so much to just sleep.

Coughing up thick spats of blood, spit and mucus as he deftly tried to duck away from mountainous strikes, Zan's remaining, able-to-open lid couldn't seem to find a friend. Nulus screamed at him to be released, but like with Saol, it was a fruitless venture. The Eventides that had stayed behind were not meant to live, but postpone the inevitable. The werewolf' service until that role was quickly coming to a close and trying to prolong it any further was unnecessary punishment on both sides. There came a point when, completely unlike himself, the Heavy Blade simply stopped any form of resistance. Thorns and hooked fingers split him like a piñata until there was more of him out than in. Adding insult to injury, it wasn't even a strong beast that finally ended him, but a screeching, oversized hawk that dove out of nowhere to snuff out the ember of his strength with a single, almost kamikaze impact to his chest. Rather than be upset, the Lycan felt something of a shadow's smile crease the edges of his mouth as the constriction of the body was released and only the ghosted soul was left behind. Nulus continued to assault hi mind, to tell him that his thoughts were being muddled by another, by the invader within, but Zan was simply too far gone to register it as anything but unavoidable noise. Why did he have to be so loud? It was hard to sleep when it was so loud.

THEN STAY AWAKE, DAMN IT. IF YOU LET THIS THING GET YOU, WHO KNOWS WHAT'LL HAPPEN TO US?! Ug! You stubborn motherfucker!

It was true, Zan realized. The Merged, or whatever it was, was whispering at him to coil in and fall. Fall where? Without a real body, the concept of falling simply didn't apply. Was it how it felt? Did it want him to fall within? Wasn't that convoluted poetry just asking him to sleep like he so, so, so wanted to? Like he longed to with an intensity that was almost ridiculous? Only the barest threads of fear kept the werewolf from giving in completely, prompting him instead to ask that presence questions. Why did it want him to do this? What was so important about it? What was to be accomplished? Was it a trick? Was the Plures Vultus Mortis back? None of his inquiries were pinged back with so much as an impression of an answer. Whatever was happening, it wanted him to stop being so inquisitive and simply allow what his body wanted to happen, to happen. Maybe Zan was letting his paranoia keep him from something potentially great, from something helpful, but the Merged and 'great' weren't synonyms. Any who tried to convince him otherwise obviously hadn't met the disproportionate Garou form it had taken first in Angel's mansion. The thing was an absolute automaton of human darkness and unneeded, gratuitous violence. Calling it a psychopath was being kind; calling it a monster was closer to the heart of it all.

And suddenly everything was okay.


A loft of an item, of a Resurrect, and Zan’s ghost was giving tangibility and a mind that resembled something of its normal state. What in God’s name had been going on? Whatever it was left a sour aftertaste like cottonmouth on his palette. Was that just the fear? Was that just the momentary fever dream? Or...was the vicious it of the Merged leaving behind a fragment of its presence? Whatever it was, the werewolf could have fucking kissed Sekai right about then. It was like she woke him up from a bad dream; an angel of mercy. Unashamed, the werewolf let gratitude decorate his face like a festive mask until he was absolutely sure his point had been delivered and she knew all too well the importance of something as simple as embodiment. Was she confused? Maybe. Probably. It was a train of thought that was derailed once the Lycan realized he was looking at panther's on steroids. Was there even one normally sized animal in this forest? Jest faded as his senses and even the Beast within bombarded him; these entities, tagged the Nimirja, made him feel like he was around family. Not immediate family, mind you, but like cousins he had forgotten he had. The aroma of Krake was clear around them, in every fiber of their fur and bit of binary in their code. If they had been help given to them by the Juk Incarnation in hopes they would help its rescue, they too were extensions of elemental manifestation. Not just any manifestation, but a manifestation of one of his two favorite Waves. Like a dog, he felt the wolf within wag its tail.

They were friends.

They were allies.

They were a sliver of home.

A part of Zan's focus remained on the conversation between Sekai and what appeared to be the leader of the group, however. So there was a way to take Saol down? By the way he had been tossed to the ground before, the Lycan was certain the group was incapable of doing it right then. Still, he wondered if they shouldn't just find a way into the dungeon and leave Brokeback to his own devices above. Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't follow? If not for the certainty that the idea would get laughed off (as he himself would have laughed it off if it weren't his own), the Heavy Blade would have proposed it to the group right then. It was, perhaps, for the best. Getting rid of someone like Saol could probably only do 'The World' some good. That is why Zan had decided to go with the Eventide Crescendo in the first place, after all. When Nulus ensured him with a mental knock that it was a great idea, the werewolf couldn't have been more certain about anything in his life that it couldn't have been farther from great. Sekai's conversation took a sudden stop when, the sky darkening and Zan just then wondering where Saol had run off to, something called 'the Swath' left the giant panther's ears with a bell's note of ominous foreboding. Ohhh shit. Legions of trees cracked and, almost in a collective exhale, the forest itself seemed to shudder. Blood filled the air then, its scent, like a perfume for the Beast that only made Zan hungry.

Alas...as the changes continued...the player knew that his job of 'protector' had just gotten a lot more complicated.

-GM-

The group fell into a hushed, anxious quiet as the night moved around them. The forest around them cracked like an energetic thunderstorm, splitting the great logs wide with both proverbial and literal wounds. The stench of blood, for those trapped within the game, began to mingle with something akin to gangrene and rot. Nemera, body tensed with anticipated danger, took one step, then another, then another closer to the tree nearest her and laid a cautious eye upon it. From the imperfections in the trunks came the source of the stench; pus-lined wounds that crawled with live and still-pupating maggots. Plop. Something fell in the Heavy Blade's hair. Reflexively, though wishing she hadn't, Nem slapped a started hand to snow-white locks and retracted it just as quickly. Suckling her digits were more of the white...things...their sticky coating living strings of thick, viscous slime. Horrified, crimson eyes looked to the sky. Plop. Plop. Plop. Falling from branches that were suddenly void of leaves, the death-hungry manifestations of disgust were like Hell's rain. The co-leader of the Eventide Crescendo burst into a fit of nausea and cursing shudders as she flung the maggots from her hand and violently swatted at her scalp until some semblance of clean returned to her. From that point on, looking back on the quest, Nemera would remember never feeling cleansed from even the most thorough showers again.

Someone approached her. A bundle of wound nerves, the Amazonian woman heaved her blade in a one hundred and eighty degree arc to rest just to the side of...Centrus's neck? The weapon drooped and something like softness entered the dark-red eyes.

"C-Centrus? Is it...?" A disbelieving hand lofted to float just an inch from his cheek, her thumb nearing his eyelashes. "Your eyes...they're different. What's happened to you? I...I thought you were going to leave m-...I thought you were going to leave us this field. I was made to understand..." Then the realization of her quickly-crumbling tough-girl exterior hit her and two very strong, very pissed palms collided with the Fist Fighter's chest. The blow thudded him to the muck...muck, she now saw in a brightened light, that was mingled with blood. Still, she ignored it. She had things to say. "If you're going to leave, leave! The Eventide Crescendo isn't something you join on your fucking time! You're either with us until you no longer can be-" Ug, she sounded like Nall more and more. "-or you're not! Simple as that. Don't think you can pick and choose. We need to be able to rely on you, you son of a bitch. Who do you think you are?" Though she turned from him, Centrus would be able to swear he thought he saw a corner of her lips rise. He could swear he thought he saw her smile.

Now stepping to avoid the occasional fall of the bugs...insects...whatever the hell maggots were...by putting herself in a hole in the branch connections above, Nemera looked again to the sky to see the source of the new light. A moon, shining white, loomed unthinkably large and close to the EC like the judgmental eye of God. She felt herself shrink a little in its presence. Sekai, unbeknownst to the Heavy Blade, might remember the Keeper and her equally daunting moon, though the one from that terrible sub-field was as red as the blood that now soaked the earth at their feet. What followed then was a collective, looming groan from the trees around the group until the injured husks almost seemed to be leaning towards them. No one could recall actually seeing movement...and yet the likeness of it could not be denied. Similarly, the peripheral view of the trees seemed to hint at all-too-detailed, all-too-human faces frozen in various stages of agony. These views, a taunting thing, would simply not be there when looked dead on. A chill like cold water down the column of her spine found Nemera then. The group seemed to grow uneasy then, shifting and fidgeting, and the Heavy Blade turned to the Nimirja for guidance...to find they were no longer there. Had they run their course? Had the Swath swallowed them? Perhaps more likely, the Swath was like a second field overlapped on the axis of the original where the oversized panthers probably resided. Whatever the case, Nemera knew she had to say something.

"Before anyone decides to freak out, I realize the Nimirja are gone. I-" Like the impish giggles previously, moving whispers circled their 'camp' and momentarily threw the woman off track. "...I think we've been pulled into another field. Maybe the Swath isn't an entity, but a place. If we just stay put and wait for it to run its course for the time being - as I assume it will do, if things from the first field are aware of its existence - we should be able to reunite with the cavalry. Sit tight."

Despite her own advice, Nemera seemed uncomfortable in her own skin, unable to stay still for more than a few seconds at a time. This wasn't her. If she wasn't mistaken, something in the field was beginning to soak its way into her skin, into her skull like water to a sponge and her brain was bloating with it. Not long after she began to resist the urge to itch off her own skin, a vague movement in the semi-shadows had her on her feet with weapon in hand. Sidhe, and whomever else (she was too distracted to really take a face survey), came to her side also in something of an offensive stance. The figure, whatever it was, seemed to be shuffling in clumsy motions towards them; closer, closer, and closer still. When moonlight finally illuminated the mystery, Nemera had a hard time discerning what exactly she was seeing. Legs, a torso and a head - constructed of corpse-grey, pale flesh - were obvious, but the rest had to be pieced as it neared. Though it didn't initially seem to have arms, the moaning monster, one that walked like an infant with feet often pointing inward toward one another, had those two limbs apparently trapped beneath the skin like a twisted, evil straightjacket. Its face too, one she thought it didn't have, would occasionally push out against an otherwise smooth mold with expressions shared upon the surface of the trees around them. Takua, apt at spotting the stuff by now, was the first to notice small webs of Dread Code left in the wake of each of its steps (webs that, almost as soon as they appeared, sealed back to normality).

As a party, everyone took the necessary backsteps to keep their distance, but it didn't appear to have any outward desire to harm them. It simply stumbled along like a lost child in the woods, oblivious to them, until Nemera's "What...the fuck...?" stopped it in its tracks. The moaning ceased and, like its usual pattern, a face pushed against skin on its 'head'...but didn't retreat. Instead, a small opening where its open mouth would have been continued to grow...and grow...and Nemera was only just beginning to register that she should probably move when the stream of red and a noise not unlike an adult vomiting filled the air. When the liquid struck her face and the arm that had lifted to protect it, a distinctive sizzle mingled with her cries of shocked pain. The suddenness of it all had the woman feeling like an animal backed into a corner and when a hand shot out to help her - was that Centrus? Sidhe? - that animal chose 'fight.' A bestial, frightened and strangled shout raked its way up her throat as she charged the thing and swung, and swung, and hacked, and sliced. It was like cutting into hollow leather, that tell-tale thunk sounding with each hit, but every injury she inflicted would be followed by a muffled whine and small jet of whatever it had spat at her. She allowed herself to forget the burn, to forget what felt like a fever rising against her forehead, and hit until it simply stopped moving.

But...though downed...it wouldn't.

Only when, in a frustrated grunt, Nemera sent forth a small wave of her kinetic Twilight did it stop. Stop, sure, but it didn't evaporate like she prayed to God it would. Instead, the freakish, grotesque motherfucker lie there. A turn back to the group, to assure them that she was pretty sure the monster - tagged "D#sp#(ati^n" - paused her mid-speech. A few of their faces were paused with mild...was it shock? horror?...and she suddenly knew why. A look to her arm, fingers to her face, and she felt rows of boils and blisters - some popped by her excursion, some not - where the red fluid had hit her. Though she, for a reason she didn't know prior, had been shaking before, the Heavy Blade felt herself rattle like a leaf. Her head grew light and, though she simply slouched down, it was the helpful arms of Centrus and Baron at her sides that kept her aloft. Her eyes, rolling into the back of her head, remained half-open as consciousness began to drift. There wasn't enough time to adjust to that new problem, however. Like Japanese Giant Wasps attracted to pheromones, at least a dozen more of the creature's silhouettes began to line the trees around them. Luckily, they moved about as fast and reliably as their predecessor. Sidhe only needed a second to think and he was filling the Heavy Blade's shoes. Off the bat, the field was throwing some of its worst at them and damn if the Long Arm was going to let it succeed in beating them so soon.

"Alright, we have to move. As much as I'd like to stay here and wait for the Swath to pass, that's no longer an option. Whoever wants to be a moron and stay behind, go ahead, but those who want to make it for a few more hours need to come with me." To clear any confusion... "Now."

Whomever followed, Sidhe made a point of pushing Baron away and taking up his spot next to the heavily-perspirating Nemera. Whatever she had, it wasn't fucking good, that was for sure. Acting with an almost military precision that the Long Arm would expect no less from a Freedom Fighter, Zan called for a few to take point with him and shuffled ahead. Before that, a request for at least one to cover either flank and a few more to take the rear - putting the slowly-going Nemera, Centrus and Sidhe at the center of the formation - was put in and things went to work. The forest had quickly lost its charm, quickly lost whatever tranquility had even taken Sidhe's breath at first. It was just another sliver of Higher hell and fuck if he was going to allow himself to belief any different again. He supposed even the Devil's face was handsome at first. A flush of similar thoughts plagued the acting leader as the party moved as fast as they could...and moved...and moved. Though the sapphire Long Arm had hoped the field had a change of scenery in store, the forest seemed to stretch on. Each step came with the fear that some new nasty would peek around a corner and the trip, turning from minutes into a handful of hours (for him, at least, though Sidhe knew those not trapped within the game had a tendency to sense time differently). It was Zan, at last, that appeared from the front to break the monotony.

"We think we found something. One of the things the Nimirja leader was talking about. There's...well there's something else too."

Sidhe, never a man of many words, continued that trend and ignored the second part of Zan's last statement. "Where?"

"Just up ahead."

Rather than give a response, Sidhe motioned with his head to move on, and move on they did. As promised, it wasn't long before they came upon what the male Heavy Blade had mentioned; a tree not unlike the others apart from the yard long and yard wide, pulsing rune of Juk. The color was a poisonous green, something sickly and wrong, but it gave the Long Arm a jolt of hope. The Eventides were hardly down for the count. Connecting a lot of the trees to that one, something the man had begun to notice further into the walk, were a series of highly-lofted bridges. The closer they had gotten to this tree, the more torn and even completely collapsed the bridges would become. Some, though no apparent source could be seen, dribbled blood far to the earth below. What Sidhe had allowed himself to ignore up until then, the painful, panicked sobs, began to push against the previously-mentioned hope. What Zan had tried to warn him about resided at the base of the tree some five or six yards in front of the arch-shaped doorway small enough to make most of them hunch whenever they chose to eventually walk through. In a large, almost genocidal pile, bodies upon bodies of people (their ears, like elves of lore, slightly pointed) were ablaze and trying to crawl - for one reason or another - up and over each other as they wailed and begged for the pain to end. Sidhe took a step forward, but the black-and-green-clad man stopped him.

"You don't want to do that. I tried already." Oddly, he didn't seem to have any burns. "The fire burned my SP and, when that was empty, started to eat at my health. The bodies are moving too much to get a grip. I don't think, whatever they are, that help is possible." Though the man played it cool, if a bit regretful, he could see in his eyes how much it pained Zan to be so unable to save them. "That isn't the only other thing I wanted you to see, though. Past the pyre, there's something else."

Though the co-leader of the Eventide Crescendo wasn't able to completely block out their pain, or his eyes from their trauma, he did long enough to walk around the small mountain of horror to see something with its own brand of unease. Mounted on a pike, a child's head - carrying the same pointed ears but with eyes sockets a bloody mess - continued to iterate the same jumble of sentences time and time again.

"Given to those who'd resist, a memorial of punishment both without and within your great 'Axis Mundis.' Jula has offered you a place in her ranks, spawnlings of her treasured element as you are, and yet you spat at it. For those few that remain, spread out and desolate, return to the Mundis to remember the classic futility of resistance. I, Saol, am the new overseer of this domain in conjunction with the Higher of Juka. The time for Vagrant AIs here as rulers is at an end. Lay down your feeble twigs or bathe in the blood of your mistakes."

Looking up from the head and into the opening, Sidhe felt hate boil in his gut...and it gave him strength; Saol would die.

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

((OOC:

Annnd...post done!

Welcome to a common occurrence in the EC: a round that requires what I call 'action scripting.' Though you're under no obligation to, I expect at least a few of you to actually progress this quest and go into the tree to explore and see if you can find what the Nimirja spoke of. This 'action scripting' can be accomplished via AIM with me or - because of the distraction Lost Odyssey is serving - via PM. I'll get to you all as fast as I possibly can.

Note: The alien anxiety Nemera is feeling, the almost oppressive one, can only be felt - for the time being - by those trapped within the game.

Note2: Exangelus, sadly, this counts as strike 2/3 for you unless you have some superb excuse.

:OOC))

’Centrus…he came.’

Takua had thought that Centrus wouldn’t have come on the field at all. Whatever it was that was keeping him busy would deny him from entering. What perfect timing though, as The Swath came over them all. Certainly, he was less emotional about it than Nemera was, but there was a reason behind that. Nemera…the Wavemaster wasn’t sure just where the Fist Fighter stood with the Heavy Blade, only that the kiss that she had given him after being tortured had seemed completely sincere. He wasn’t about to guess more than that, but the obvious restoration of her mood and her heart was obvious to him. It should be to everyone as well, and it was that boost in moral that had him wishing the best for his friend. No matter what happened, that invigoration of Nemera was something that they all needed.

He couldn’t have had worse timing though. Every tree was cracking and tearing themselves apart, blood pouring through the fragmented lines in the bark. Part of him wondered just what on earth was going on, the other was swearing with all of its might, inventing quite a few colorful phrases that would have either made the people around him stare, blush, or raise their eyebrows were they able to understand his inner monologue. Something about the supposed ancestry of a certain group of people. Having to do with how uncomplimentary ways of mating that did justice to the amount of various positions that the human body could contort to, although not all of them might be biologically accurate. The shower of…white maggots had caused something deep inside of him to shudder, squirming in an attempt to get away from those pulsating lumps of fetid flesh that sought their own. The initial shower had been absolutely horrifying, as at first he hadn’t understood what had been falling on him. That had lasted until he saw Nemera with the same things on her. Then he had been violently shaking them off, going so far as to cast a Rue Rom on himself to purge the things from his body.

Still though, the aftershocks, and shudders, remained long after the grubs had been launched off his body by his own movements and the gale-force winds. After the rain of maggots, which seemed to have completely annihilated the leaves above (or were they the leaves themselves?), he tried to think about what was going on. The ground had turned to blood and mud…and possibly other things that were mixed in with it as well. The forest that they had all been in awe of had been ripped apart by the changes brought by this Swath, transformed from a place of shelter into a haunt that would have been the envy of any number of monsters. A huge, supernaturally bright werewolf’s moon hung huge in the sky, illuminating their party. A low moan sounded suddenly from the trees around him, causing the Wavemaster to jerk swiftly around in search of an enemy before he realized the source. The field, he realized with increasing anger, was getting to him already. Horror had never been his strong suit, and the fact that the trees suddenly seemed to be leaning towards them had him twitching where he stood.

A frozen face stuck in a position of pure agony, a scream waiting its chance to be heard, distracted him as he swirled around to try and find it. The mocking bark of the tree was the only silent laughter that showed him just how foolish he was being, until his peripheral vision swarmed with those tortured human scenes. There were no bodies, and in some there were no eyes, if his own could be trusted with only piecemeal moments of vision. The moment he tried to actual focus on them, all the faces would melt away like they were all a hallucination of his fractured mind. Maybe the Nimirja were as well, because they had all vanished like the wind into wherever this field was. That was when the first inkling of what was a possible truth whispered its way into his mind. What if they had simply been transported somehow to another field that had somehow…connected to the real one? That was the real power of The Swath? Certainly, what Nemera said indicated that she agreed, but she also suggested that they sit tight and wait.

Certainly, he might have agreed were it any other field. But this was a Higher’s field, and in these, just sitting around was never a good idea. That was just asking for the enemy to come to you instead of taking the initiative. What would happen if Saol and his army came through this? They would be crushed just as surely, for they didn’t have any allies to rely upon, and their strength and unity at this point in the field was too low. What needed to happen between now and when they next faced Saol was a trial of some kind that would force the rest to bond closer with each other, in order to reach the understanding that had prompted the destruction of the Sand Lich and Sprouce. Just sitting around waiting for oblivion wasn’t going to accomplish that. That said, he didn’t have a better plan than blindly marching around in the forest, which might just be worse than sitting here waiting for this horrible nightmare to pass them by.

It was only then did he realize what other emotions that he had stirring around inside of him now that Centrus had rejoined them. Shame and terror were two of them. Fear for his safety was another prominent one, but there was a deep seated sense of humiliation because of what he had done, and what he might do. On these fields, he was not always…moral. Things that he could do only here often showed their ugly head, revealing some hideous thing that hid within the depths of his heart and mind. Someone who could drain the blood from a human without feeling the wrongness in the act. A boy who could arbitrarily decide to murder doctors and children intentionally or not. Someone who had tortured another man in front of other people to rip a secret from his lips. That was the person that he had the potential to become in these fields, an ironclad monster only capable of destroying, not creating. Yet that supposed shield that surrounded him within the field actually multiplied the damage tenfold when he was out of it, merely because he could use it to commit acts that he would not have otherwise.

Even now, he wondered just how long it would take before that point. Perhaps it was foolish to worry about what Centrus would think when he had so many other people who knew him-and those who didn’t. But he hadn’t talked to Centrus since Gan pretty much, only…one or two times through flashmails. He hadn’t gone to school, knowing that he was too unstable to make an appearance. How could he not flinch when someone walked by, knowing that the moment someone did the memory of the hunger would rise again and try to influence how he saw the world? It was impossible. His classes had suffered, he knew that, but he hadn’t been able to care. But the mere presence of his only real friend in real life here, now, was causing him to worry. He glanced over at Sekai, eyes twitching as a haze of various thoughts and emotions flooded over him. The answer that she had given him that morning was still ringing in his thoughts, and he was wondering just how much that answer might change because of what he did today.

That thought slipped away as if in a dream as the monster named, through some combination of numbers and letters, Desperation neared them. It couldn’t move very fast at all, some sort of shuffling walk that leant to its moving slowly. He couldn’t see any arms on it’s gray flesh at first, but as it continued to stumble towards them in a moaning walk he saw them. They were binding his chest. Somehow, the constructors of this hideous monster had used his actual arms to be within his skin in front of him, ensuring that he couldn’t use them. When the face seemingly melted up through the flesh, almost like the trees which still tried to show him flashes of faces in agony, it looked like it was in bitter torment. Continuing his inspection, he glanced down at the feet, wondering what kind of hideous con- no. Oh no. His eyes glared at the tracks containing Dread Code, willing it all to be an illusion, but they remained. The fucking thing contained so much of the code that with every step it was partially ripping the field apart. Not enough to be noticeable on the grand scale, but enough to be deleting where it walked until the code repaired itself.

The Wavemaster took a few steps backwards to keep his distance, someone that was quickly echoes by the rest of the people in his party. The field was wasting no time this round in ensuring that they had a look at the dark side of human ingenuity. Indeed, when Nemera spoke, it finally seemed to respond to their presence by growing a permanent face and a hole where the mouth would be. It was pointedly directed at Nemera, and it continued to grow until, with the sound of a particularly violent vomiting, it hurled a stream of…blood? Was that what that was? Whatever the substance was, it hissed when it came into contact with their Heavy Blade leader, making what Takua thought were…blisters? That was when Nemera charged toward, swinging her sword again and again into the monster, something that released even more of the liquid and made…whining sounds?

What was going on here?

The last time anything had been even vaguely human, it had been the Atesh and then the Children of Eden. One had been gladiatorial fodder for the Highers, and human to boot, the other were weapons of war. One of the major problems with these fields were that they didn’t know who were human, or once had been human. Assuming that they were all AI was dangerous, because for all you knew the next monster was actually a human being forced into a role. Maybe it was even an AI race being forced by Saol or the Higher of Juk to bend to their will, when all they really wanted to do was to run or fight back. It didn’t matter though, as Nemera used her ability…hack? The slight swipe of energy that ripped through the monster and left it laying on the ground…but refusing to fade away.

Nemera though, had something going on with her. Takua took a few steps forward when she collapsed, something going on with her eyes. Maybe the red liquid had a power that did something to comatose people? A horrifying thought struck the Wavemaster. Maybe that red liquid would turn her into one of those monsters. Could that be it? Certainly, sweat was visible and she didn’t seem to be collected, her entire body shaking and quivering in a way that was distinctly not Nemera. Panicked thoughts went through his mind for a few seconds before he calmed down…

And he could feel the shields slipping into place. Somewhere deep within, he fought against the hardening of his heart and the trap that was making his morals slip away, something that had started because of the monster. Horror wasn’t something that he needed an overabundance of, he realized slowly, but still fought to keep his thoughts as they had been. It was hard to do, even as Zan asked for someone to take the flanks. He moved over to the left one, knowing that he was all alone out here for a monster to try and attack him, but somewhat confident of his ability to defend himself. Unlike Nemera, he didn’t have to be close enough to be hit by the red AIDS carrying blood to attack. Okay, so the red liquid might not be blood, and it probably didn’t have AIDS, but that’s how it went. As the party moved along slowly, he wondered when or how they would be attacked next. The endless line of trees seemed to mock them, making him wonder if they were going in the right direction. Not that they had a choice though.

He wondered though at the sudden burst of jealousy that he felt towards Centrus. He was trusted and liked enough to be in the middle of the party with Sidhe and Nemera. He had, somehow, managed to get a place with them. He honestly couldn’t say that he had that with either of them. Then again, he wasn’t exactly the most open of people, and he failed to talk most of the time. And, honestly, he was happy for his friend that he had found them. He didn’t know how long it would be for Centrus to become comatose, if at all, and he didn’t want to see him go for a variety of reasons. For one, Nemera wouldn’t want him to. Another was that, if Takua remained connected to the outside world, there wouldn’t be anyone there that he could talk to really. Even worse though, might be if the Wavemaster fell to Dread Code, but the Fist Fighter did not.

Putting those thoughts aside at the return of Zan, he kept on his flank but was happy to hear that they had found the symbol. Unfortunately, he was also close enough to hear that they had found something else, and that caused a foreboding feeling to pass over him. That there was something else was never a good thing, not in these fields. He wondered how many other people had decided that as well, had already picked up that, once within a field that the Eventides were going to, surprises were almost always a terrible thing. As he looked up towards the sky and the moon, he noticed several bridges that were somewhere high up in the trees that were all going in one direction. Once he got to where he could see the tree that was their destination, one large pulsating, disease ridden Juk rune marking their target; he saw that the bridges began to break down. Something that was recognizably blood managed to leak and drip from some of them, falling down on them from the bridges that were incredibly high up.

It was at that moment that he heard the cries. A huge pyre had been constructed in front of the tree that was their destination, a mass murder that had left possibly hundreds of bodies, still moving, upon it. Somehow, they were all attempting to crawl up each other, the flames continuing the burn them even though they should have died already. How long had they been burning there? They all looked like elves, the pointed ears giving them away, and they all were trying to crawl up on top of each other to reach the top point in the pile. It was, in almost every definition of the word, a genocide. Takua walked around the pile as Zan and Sidhe did, listening to their every word. If you couldn’t grab them and haul them off, could one put out the fire with a Rue Rom? Deciding to test that theory, he took out the appropriate staff and cast the level one spell, smiling grimly as the magic interacted with his BL Yokohama. He had two elements with a bonus of three now, one for Rai, the other for Rue.

The enhanced water and ice tornado began to swirl on the immense pile, attempting to interact with the fire and the bodies that writhed like worms or snakes with a stake through it. Absolutely nothing happened, and the Wavemaster felt his momentary almost-happiness drop even further. There was nothing that he could do here, at least not yet. The shrieks and cries of pain sounded behind him as he turned to the child on the real stake, spouting a message from Saol.

The sight of a child’s head, eyes nothing more than bloodied holes, infuriated him. Although the anger was washing through him, it gave him the mental balance necessary to make note of a few things. First of all, was the Axis Mundis that it referred to the other half of this field? If so, was the Swath the other Axis? Jula would be the Higher of Juk, and Saol her little butt-monkey…probably like Sprouce was to Dirge. That thought blossomed a ravaging hate as he gazed at the immolated stack of AI. They would feel every second of this, and just how long had it been since Saol took charge here? Weeks? Months? However long it had been, it was far to long. Striding from the burning pile, he bent down and walked through the doorway into the tree proper. Was this where those AI had lived their lives? Was that the point behind the bridges that all led to this tree?

He walked into what appeared to be the opening chamber. Three pathways were carved about six feet up off the ground, although to call them pathways was misleading. They were doorways etched into the walls of the room, something about the size of a house porch. Each of them had ladders leading up to them, almost as if…there were small children that were meant to climb these? Something that he did not like though, was that it had all been strangely…tinted with rust. Sighing, he picked the left path, hunching over as far as he could go without crawling to merely fit through the thing.

He emerged into more of the rust colored tree, a nice room…with beds in it. At least, he could only assume that the carved out logs with pillows made out of moss and blankets that looked to be woven were part of a bed. The moment that he actually emerged into that room, strange, ghostly sounds of crying echoes into his ears before vanishing into nothingness. Three beds littered the room, with tapestries decorated with strange patterns hanging on the walls and ceiling of the dome. Blood had splattered everywhere on the domed walls. Were they what the people in here had made? It made the most sense, but his attention was elsewhere shortly enough. On a little teddy-bear, incongruous in the middle of this…home. It was resting in the smallest bed, but there was blood everywhere on that bed. It was as if the toy itself had bled out. Taking another step into the room, there wasn’t a response from anything, so he decided to do something. The fact that the bear had bled out hinted that it might have been alive once…or it might belong to a child. Accessing one of the most powerful spells that he had at his disposal, or at the very least one of the most useful, the boy cast Rip Maen on the teddy bear.

In an instant, all of the blood that had been on the bed vanished. The toy was still though, and Takua’s eyes narrowed. Something had definitely happened, yes, but it wasn’t moving again. What was it going to do? The obvious check to see if it was going to do anything at this point was to touch it, but he decided on an alternate course of action. He didn’t want to cause a catastrophe, and although it seemed safe…he didn’t want to know what it might be able to do. Casting a Repth on it, the blue-white light flared around the small children’s toy, but nothing happened. Preparing himself for what might happen, he reached out with his right hand and gently touched the bear in the center of its chest…

The woman was crying and screaming, her black hair swirling around her beautiful face and pointed ears, sobbing in the arms of a soldier who held her over his shoulder. Her five foot frame was wracked with shuddering and tears, fair skin only marred by what seemed like natural patches of green that served only to make her seem both more exotic and scared. The man was being forcibly dragged behind a different soldier, the same basic featured marking him with emerald swirls on his skin. The soldiers themselves were all in jaded plate armor, scales making up the actual substance. A large Juk seal was born proudly on their chests, a magnificent and terrifying J superimposed upon the rune for the Forest wave.

The man was flailing and trying to fight back, screaming the entire time as one soldier advanced on the smallest bed. His sword held in his hand, one quivering child huddled underneath the sheets like he was trying to hide. The teddy-bear was barely visible in his fearful hands before the sword flashed down, blood spraying everywhere as the child shuddered. For another second, two seconds, the child continued to squirm underneath the bed. Then at last, with one final quiver, it went limp...

Takua jerked backwards, sweating beading his face and traveling down his body. His eyes stared in disbelief at the teddy bear on the bed, an innocent shell containing horrors of murder and slaughter. He also had a fairly good idea about where those adults had gone. The massive pyre…

In that moment, were Takua comatose, he could have thrown up. As it was, in the real world, bile rose in his throat as he viewed what could have been a home. He could imagine children and adults coming through here, romping and playing as children are apt to do, a family. Now it was a macabre slaughterhouse, who’s walls were stained with the life-blood of their former owners. How many innocent AI had met their end within the walls of this corrupted tree? He only needed to take a look outside for the adults, but the children. How many children were in this area? Steeling himself, he went through the next crawlspace, emerging into a room with five beds instead of three. As he emerged into the room a soft, almost inaudible sound came to his ears, that of a small girl sobbing. Just as before, it vanished instantly, leaving him to look at the room. Blood was strewn around the walls just as before, but the true splashed area was on a rocking horse to the side. He quivered in thought, wondering just what he would see if he resurrected the toy and touched it. But there was no real choice there.

Her heels dug into the floor as tears rolled down her face, her arms and legs attempting to find purchase in order to resist the soldier that was hauling her into the tunnel that would lead to the next room. Wild black hair fell down her face and tangled with the tears in order to create a mess of wet hair that had combined with each other in order to provide an effective mask for her. Cold jade gauntlets had found a grip on her own hands, an air of dispassionate order around her killer as he stalked forward, unheeding of her sobs or attempts to stop him. It was only when she exited from the room that a wail broke from her throat, a keening cry that proved she knew what was about to happen to her. Her, presumably, husband was hauled out shortly after her, simply being dragged by his long black hair out the door.

One soldier had remained behind though, slinking towards the rocking horse where three children were crying. There was no way out and somehow their infantile minds could understand this. They watched the man with the blade approach them, emerald scales slithering over each other as he walked. The moment he was within sword range, the weapon struck the first of the children, behind one and letting her blood loft towards the ceiling and walls. Her body fell backwards into death, suddenly nerveless fingers slipping from the horse to crash to the floor. The blade flickered once more, blood exploding from the chest of the only boy and from the throat of the remaining girl, letting both children slump to the floor in death…

His fingers retracted, body moving on automatic to one of the two exits from this room. Something in him felt numb, as if it had started to die. It was only then that he realized that it had happened. He hadn’t wanted to stop it this time though, the great fortress of his mind having thrown up its defenses to keep his sanity intact for the time being. He could feel the impact of those deaths though. It wasn’t complete, his morals were still screaming at him about how wrong this all was. Only the impact was slightly deadened for him, so that he wouldn’t feel the full force of this until later. It was impossible to fully shield one’s self from the slaughter, but he could keep it from hitting him dead on. He took the time to compose a flashmail though to the rest of the group.

His body moved on while his mind stayed behind, thinking about what was going on. Surely they weren’t all at home when the attack hit? Some would have been away from the tree, and thus would have escaped the purge. Was that why Saol had erected a human speaker in front of this tree; in order to warn those who had escaped what would become of them? In that case, was the tree that he was crawling through called the Axis Mundis? It made sense, if that was the case. Jula, whoever she was, had offered these AI a part of her army and they refused. So she purged them both as a warning to others and to solidify her power base. Also, the message explained that Saol was not an AI. At least, it was highly likely that he was a human underling of Jula, possible her second in command. Or Saol simply ruled under Jula, and somewhere up the line was the Higher of Juk. It worked either way, but the first possibility was much more probable.

When he emerged into the next room, he found things that he hadn’t seen before. Small Wavemaster style staves were placed against the wall along with other, tiny spears that were reminiscent of Long Arms. There were also ten beds, several…bloody objects having been strewn around the room. This was a larger room…did it mean anything? He glanced at the nearest of the objects that looked like it might hold something like a memory and paused. How was he getting these memories?

Cold sweat suddenly stood out on his forehead again. In his mind, a scream of denial could be heard, and, indeed, if anyone had found their way into the room behind him, and perhaps all the way out in the main lobby, they would hear him.

”DCV IS DEAD GODFUCKINGDAMMIT.”

He snarled in fear and anger, his mind racing trying to find a logical explanation for the memories. The last time he could receive memories like this, he had been a vampire, but that had been cured from him by the Gan Incarnation. It had cost him the memories of all but the really important things since the infection. The visions themselves remained as clear as crystal, the destruction that he had caused thanks to too many deletions, what Sprouce had done with the machines and ghosts, his drinking his blood, and what happened when he sealed himself into a barrier. That was it. The other thing it had cost him was more of his humanity, or at least that was what it had felt like. But he had felt it being burned out of him by a righteous holy fire that had purged his body of the virus and rid his mind of the infection.

Calming himself down, he forced himself into a rational viewpoint. The Gan Incarnation wouldn’t have left him without making sure that he was cured. Also, he couldn’t feel the hunger that had come with it, or…were there teeth? He knew there were, a horde of sharp teeth just like the Children of Eden that he had used to drain Sprouce of his power-laden blood. He sure as hell didn’t have that now, so he must be cured, right? Thus, something else was causing him to see these visions, something within the Dread Code of this field? Or had this mysterious Twilight interacted with the objects instead? He was far less familiar with Twilight than with Dread Code, but it was still a possibility? There was an empirical test of that of course, have someone else touch the objects that gave flashes of memory to see if the same thing happened to them.

He strode firmly to the bloodied and chopped up doll that was obviously one of the objects he needed to see. A quick Rip Maen later, and it had healed itself. He reached down to touch it, knowing that he could never make, or trick, someone into viewing those memories. If someone else wanted to condemn themselves into viewing them, they could do it on their own. His fingers brushed the doll…

The fathers were being dragged out the door first, shortly cropped black hair held tightly in the hands of those terrible green soldiers that followed Saol and Jula; their limbs thrashing in agony and terror. Their screaming fell on deaf ears as they were hauled out for whatever purpose their captors had for them. Small Wavemaster weapons and Long Arm poles were scattered about the room, two children already cornered near them. Another child was caught in his bed, stuck and kept from moving by a soldier that was far to close. The last child, one who seemed to be a twin of the trapped one, was fidgeting near the outer doorway. Then two women were dragged to the door, one of them frantically screaming at the children to run. Her eyes fell upon the one who was twitching, and something came over that small girl.

“Mommy!”

She charged towards her mother, running past a soldier that seemed to step aside for her with a smirk about him. Closer and closer she ran with her black hair rippling down her back, feet pounding against the floor as she swept closer and closer. She was only a foot away from her mom when the soldier holding the woman flicked his sword. The blade opened a macabre smile from temple to temple, blood seeping it only for a moment before it exploded outwards, several drops flying through the air to land on the screaming mother, who’s banshee wail suddenly gained several octaves in pitch as the girl landed on the ground, her little doll that she had held in her hand bouncing away from her hand…

Takua jerked backwards, stunned by the memory. They…he shook his head. The poor girl could understand what was going to happen…they were so intelligent. Hatred rose and burned, consuming the feelings that he had because of that flash and bringing with it a desire to see the past turned back, but, barring that, the proper price paid for the blood that had been shed. The debt needed to be paid for this genocide, and it was that burning need that sent him running into the next crawlspace, searching for anything that would help him.

It was several minutes later when he realized that there was not going to be anything in this section of the tree. This was just the living quarters, where everyone had been sleeping when the purge had began. It was with a heavy heart that he turned around and began to walk out of the section of tree that he was in, composing a flashmail on the way. He wanted answers if he could get them, and this might be the best way to find them in the first place.

That done, he walked back out…and stopped in sudden shock when he saw Kira in front of him, within the wing that he had been exploring. He wasn’t sure just how far she had gotten, but her presence here was disturbing. Had she heard him scream a few minutes prior? He swallowed a curse in a second though, as he knew what those memories contained. An entire society of AI being obliterated…and Kira was an AI. There was on telling if she had touched those objects and seen the memories, and thus how she would react. He stood there, watching her, as the crystal in his hand began to try and glow with her presence. He clamped down though, refusing to let it attempt to glow and let out any Rue. Gazing steadily at her, he waited for her to make the first move.

He had his answer to the questions over the next minute. The transformation had been complete it seemed, someone completely boiling over with fury. Frozen where he stood, the Wavemaster watched her retreat. There was something so wrong about her at this time, something unbidden came to mind. What Maren and Vesica had both called her, and parts of what Vesica had said. Kira's old name. Asorain. The High Priestess. His legs moved on automatic, eyes shutters through which one could not see his soul. His hand touched the doll without hesitation, suffering through the vision without a sound or movement. In another minute, he had crawled out into the main lobby with the doll and teddy bear, walking out to the Pyre that still burned. This was disturbing, to have these objects in front of the bonfire itself.

"If you want to know what happened in there, touch these. You don't have to, but I advise that you do so."

His gaze encompassed everyone who was outside before turning around to look inward. Those who walked out would have the same choice, to touch or not to touch. To damn themselves to a nightmare of what their species could do.

Darkness was no longer Sekai's primary concern, as the trees continued opening before their eyes. The scent of blood became clotted, strained and thickly permeated with the smell of rot; a sickening sour-smell of something gone horribly, horribly wrong in the suddenly sticky, heated climate. Bile rose in her throat, a hand clamping down over her mouth as she willed herself to hold strong, to have her stomach stay down and not humiliate herself in front of all of them. No, her weaknesses would not be forgivable in such a place as this, not now, not ever. A small sound, something suspiciously like a moan of horror crossed with a whimper as the trees finished cracking, exposing vile, infected lacerations that could probably be passed off as symbolic references if she really wanted to approach it from a psychological point of view.

Which, considering her history with what was starting to creep into mind that those wounds reminded her of, was not a good idea to use.

Nemera approached, a protest that was almost silent slipping from between her fingers as, transfixed and unable to move from the spot she was at, something rained down on to the woman and she slapped at it. Revulsion in her eyes as she recognized what the white, wriggling things were within the trees, what had attached themselves to the female Heavy Blade's fingers when she'd slapped at her skull where they'd fallen. A visible, full body shudder and a quick pat down of her own person was the reaction, frantic as she tried to find any sign of the horrible, slimy looking things on her body and was shamefully relieved when there was no trace of them. Just seeing them in the tree, on Nemera's hands and body had been bad enough and she couldn't stand the sight of them devouring the wounds, the decay in the tree... even though she'd known from science class that maggots were used in a certain type of therapy to eat the decomposing, rotted flesh of patients in hospitals.

Still didn't make it any less disgusting in her mind though, something about the sight of them just... grated her the wrong way, made her stomach want to exit through her mouth as fast as possible and escape.

Someone approached, nearly having their head removed by the obviously shaken white haired woman and her rather formidable blade before recognition flared and, much to Sekai's surprise and Kira's sudden, intense stare of interest, Nemera lowered her blade. Something akin to softness, as much as she'd ever seen anyways, lit the dark russet eyes and her hand rose to touch his cheek... right before her eyes seemed to flick over to where the rest of them were observing and changed right back into her usual demenor. The newcomer hit the ground on his ass from the shove of two pissed off fists into his chest from the now ranting black clad woman before she whirled around returned to glowering at the area.

'That was... um... interesting.'

A pair of amber eyes, unsettling in the ghost-like form the AI took, kept on the two who'd just had a bit of an encounter, something calculating in the older woman's mind as she responded idly but with an odd note in her voice as she commented, echoing Sekai's word choice as if she agreed with the definition.... and had her own reason for using the word. This was something she'd need to keep an eye on, the development a little too unusual for her observation and with how pissy that Heavy Blade had a tendency to be combined with how broken she'd been acting this entire time, this one eighty turn was definitely something intriguing enough to warrant being watched.

Interesting.

A small burst of illumination lit the area in streams, much like the light had before the darkness had fallen, as the occasional shower of maggots littered the area and would usually send someone in a fit of cursing and rapid dancing before they could slap them all off. Distracted from the light for a moment as a sudden roar of flame followed by the putrid, sickly-sweet smell of burning flesh, rot and hot infection surged up in the air from where Baron had apparently fired into one of the trees. Choking again and with both hands over her mouth and nose, she dashed as nimbly as she could as far away from the tree without leaving the group as possible and stood in one of the lit areas. Noticing that Nemera's eyes had turned up, Sekai let her head tilt back, golden eyes sweeping through the rotted, infected branches to suddenly see a sight that had all the blood rushing from her head to somewhere in her feet.

Looming above with no mercy, mocking every move she made and laughter filling her ears, screeching, shrieking and wailing filling her mind as the shadows changed, turned themselves into the faces of those that reached within her mind with clawed, deadly hands stained with the blood of her innocence, of what was left of her fragile, naïve self and-

Her hands dropped to her throat as she forced her gaze down and slipped off quietly to be sick in private. Shame and horror blended in with the physical expulsion of memories threatening to consume and send her into troubled, though blissful unconsciousness. After the contents of her stomach had been emptied, a new kind of sour sick added to the coppery muck as she kicked as much as she could to hide the evidence and wiped her mouth on the back of one of her gloves with tears streaking her cheeks and shame adding a feverish flush to her cheeks. Wishing there was an uninfected/decaying/possessed tree out of a hellish domain so she could lean against it, the girl was sudden jerked violently out of her thoughts by the sound of shifting trees, dashing back to the safety of the group as revulsion, of memories of a past she didn't want to think about ripped through at the sight of the faces in the bark themselves glared accusingly, in agony at her.

She'd known the Nimirja had gone, or hadn't been able to follow them to this polluted, blood soaked hell that destroyed, no, Sekai thought grimly as haunted gold eyes scanned around the area at the horrors before them. Not destroyed, this land the Highers had raped and twisted to their own means, rotting it to the very physical core and trying to beat the soul, the spirit that made the life force within her, that she loved so dearly the powerful, wonderful wild entity it was. Nemera gave her orders, Sekai listening but paranoid already at the heavy weight, of someone's gaze boring into her left, right, below, above and everywhere. Restless, shifting and uneasy, as if something were about to burst from her own skin, as if her own flesh was about to hold a nasty surprise for her, the young Archer's ears swiftly picked up the sound of something sliding, slipping its way towards them in the bloody muck and had her arrow pointed and ready to fly at a moment's notice.

An itchy trigger finger, if an Archer could be said to have one.

Sekai didn't want to look anymore, not at that shambling thing covered in ash colored... flesh, whatever it was and shut her eyes, looking away and refusing to do anything more than listen at the moment. Something that sounded like someone getting sick was the only thing that registered, eyes flying open as she watched a stream of red hit Nemera flat on, a yell of wordless protest, of anger that surged through the girl as Nemera assaulted it in return despite someone's attempt to help her. The blisters, oozing, boiling and rapidly exploding to run fluid down her face had Sekai's skin burning in sympathy, had tears in her eyes from the sheer amount of pain that must be causing. When the woman turned around to face them after the... successful slaughter of the thing, Sekai instinctively wanted to reach out, began to step forward with concern heavy in her expression before the Heavy Blade quite literally dropped, the player tagged as Centrus and Baron both caught her before she hit the ground.

Sidhe took charge, quite rudely, but to Kira's amusement, jostled Baron out of the way and took his place as means of Nemera's second support and gave orders to move out unless they wanted to die. Sekai took a flanking position, worry and watchful on Nemera's fevered condition and the occasional look around in case one of the others had come up. Kira had chosen to stay in the back, like an evanescent guardian watching over those she was responsible for and occasionally drifted back out of sight to check how far behind the freaks were. Not too bad, the spirit-like woman muttered to herself, silently returning to her position until her ears caught wind of Zan's speech... and of a glow ahead that boded nothing remotely good.

I've seen that glow before. This'll hit hard, I need to be over there.

Bridges, a society of some kind, Sekai noticed and jumped when she saw Kira right beside her, the expression on the tall Long Arm's face and the mind suddenly, eerily blank and unreadable. Dread pooled in the pit of her stomach at the sudden closed off nature, as if she'd just shut down every single emotion in her being and became robotic in aura, though with a single minded intensity burning in glowing amber eyes that signaled that at least one emotion was hovering, being cradled and nurtured within the blue clad woman's breast.

But what on earth was Kira so angry about?

Unfortunately, she found out less than twenty minutes later as they approached the Juk Rune and slipped past the blood spilling, drenched bridges and came face to face with a pile of bodies in flames. Her feet were suddenly rooted to the ground, a distance in her ears as everything seemed to just fade away, vision narrowing to the people crying, writhing in eternal agony and wriggling atop of one another, trying to climb out of the everlasting inferno. The breath escaped out of her in a whoosh, someone had to have just hit her, her mind distantly protested, there was no way she couldn't feel her body unless someone had broken her spine from the neck down. She couldn't move, not even an inch, every single part of her was turned to stone, as if she were a gargoyle from the fairytales she'd read as a child at the sight of the red, orange, yellow, white, all of it swirling together, swimming before her eyes as the scene around them gradually overlapped with one her mind's eye was looking at.

“....TIRAL! WAIT!”

He had wrapped his fingers, one by one around the inactive crystal, haunted emptiness, desperation and desire in his eyes to be done with it all, to have one last duty and to rest as the phoenix crashed through the opened tower. Sorrow met with sorrow and grief as it ignited, every color of flame worthy of the sun illuminated and it crashed down with a roar that deafened, that swallowed every shriek and cry of denial, of protest and of anger and surprise that raced through all of them. Back against the stone, flesh singed, burning scent in the air as he arched, mouth open and inhuman shrieks, a pitch that no man should be able to make in his life, echoing, filling the grand room all around them. Echoing outside of the tower and those who still lingered would more than likely hear the last voice of a man sentenced to an eternally burning hell.

A man who had sentenced himself to give those around him the hope they needed to defeat their enemy.

Nemera's name screamed out, her arms reaching for him, hands grasping, needing to join him as agony swept through her face in the form of grief, his name sobbed out as she couldn't break through, was denied access to be with him, to help him and share the pain that was killing her inside to see. White and red replaced him, a behemoth in the form of a shell of a man who'd given everything without a second though, who's torments, personal horrors of The Ponderer's mind games still razor-raped him from within and without.

Just like the flames that would cover him for the rest of time.

It started out as an inaudible movement of her lips, one word repeated over and over and over and over again until sound made its way to it. A scant whisper that began to build in her throat, gaining volume until the one word, the one name burst forth in a long, tormented and agonized scream of grief, of horror and of regret filled guilt at not having been able to help, to do something that would have eased his suffering, that might have changed his fate and the way he was now.

“TIRAL!”

Such a small form certainly held a rather powerful set of lungs as her hands clamped over her ears as tightly as she could, nails drawing blood from her scalp as she dug in, trying to drown out the screams, the wailing cries of the damned before her eyes.

And the ones within her mind as well.

Mud soaked the knees of the hakama as she hit the ground, eyes slamming shut as she closed in on herself, shaking as she shook her head from side to side and her heart shredded itself in guilt that she knew Raquar carried, that Nemera carried and that she'd tried to hard, tried so very damn hard to conceal, to hide from everyone else because she'd been too scared, too in pain outside of the game to do anything but just stare in blank eyed horror. Until the Dread Code had erupted and she'd seen that orange, the color of Hell and the color of death in her eyes now, line streaming like a liquid blade straight for the person she'd been unable to help, who she'd been a burden on that entire field.

Only then had she been of any use and that had been to save one person when she should have saved them all, or damn well tried to. She was small, she could have sped up, knocked him away from the crystal and tried to hold him down until Nemera had gotten there to help restrain him, to convince him that there could be another way other than what he'd tried to do. But her fear and her distinct lack of pain tolerance for anything; physical, emotional and psychological, had taken all the energy out of her, and as a result, she'd let him die, let him cast himself into an unimaginable hell from which it looked as if he couldn't return from.

Not without some sort of miracle.

Kira's equivalent of a slap across the face hit her hard, eyes flying open to see the furious AI in front of her before the voice, caustic and harsher than she'd heard before sliced into her mind, cutting and bleeding into her more effectively than the nails that had driven themselves into her own flesh had.

“Get your head out of the past and start focusing on what you might be able to save if you fucking concentrate. If you're not going to be useful, I'm going to flashmail Gyl and force log you out of this field for the sheer purpose of me taking you into a field and beating your ass in a way this field could only wish it had the ability to; you understand me?”

At the small, defeated looking nod, Kira resisted the urge to figure out a way to shake the girl until sense was installed into her and stood up, looking around and spotting Sidhe with that Centrus kid she'd only met vaguely before and with the unconscious or somewhat unconscious Nemera in their hands still. From there she noticed Zan and made a decision based on her own selfishness and the desire to give Sekai an extra kick in the ass that she felt the girl needed.

“Come here. You're going to help Sidhe and Centrus watch over Nemera; if Nemera wakes up? Don't let her see the pyre. You know her feelings, seem to know what her strength comes from and now it's your turn to do some protecting. She doesn't let you? Whatever happens to her after is no longer your responsibility and is her own fault.”

She left the girl to guard Nemera's back, walking silently up to the head of the elven looking child with bleeding, hollow eye sockets that Sidhe was standing in front of with a look on his face that could have rivaled the one she was sure to appear on her own in due time in this shit pit of an elemental field.

"Given to those who'd resist, a memorial of punishment both without and within your great 'Axis Mundis.' Jula has offered you a place in her ranks, spawnlings of her treasured element as you are, and yet you spat at it. For those few that remain, spread out and desolate, return to the Mundis to remember the classic futility of resistance. I, Saol, am the new overseer of this domain in conjunction with the Higher of Juka. The time for Vagrant AIs here as rulers is at an end. Lay down your feeble twigs or bathe in the blood of your mistakes."

The time for Vagrant Ais here as rulers is at an end.

A chill hinted in the air around the ethereal woman staring at the child's head, at the mouth repeating such blasphemy over and over and over and over again. Eyes glowed with a demonic, violent light as a slow smile touched her lips, her head tilting ever so slightly, as if the head on the pike was nothing more than some amusing show of art or some playful prank being played instead of a very grave situation that was unfolding more and more all around her. A small sound slipped, almost mistaken for a release of breath being held in her mouth but with an odd little twisted sound that, dare someone examine close, was more like a chuckle than anything else.

Letting the mantra repeat in her mind, burning the names into her heart as two she would be sure to add the names into those whose blood her spear had tasted, the brightly glowing AI turned on her heel and with a smile that, had Sekai been paying attention, probably would have caused the girl to sent a vast number of flashmail to urge people to give the AI a wide berth until she'd calmed down, proceeded to duck nonplussed into the bloodied tree to examine what she could from there. Three pathways, gods how she wished there were a few enemies in each door way, that way she could behead them as she pleased and proceed to walk atop their corpses to her next destination and conquest.

*

It was unnerving, having to sit here, doing nothing with the moans and wails of grief and pain echoing out in her head and slicing into her heart. No matter how many times per second she'd look, per minute or even per five whole minutes that she'd look; Nemera was no closer to waking up than she had been the last seventy three and a half times she'd checked. Sidhe and Centrus weren't in the mind to speak, the expression alone on the former's face was enough for her to retreat a little, she hadn't seen that much hatred in... quite... a long time.

Dejected, she decided to head into the tree, a yell from inside had caught her attention, though she didn't know what on earth was going on and tried one of the many paths that were in there. The middle seemed safest in her mind, and the stairs didn't seem too badly. It wasn't even a big place for her, she thought with a frown, looking around. Oh, wait. She made a face and kicked herself, slightly sulking because it was going to take her mind off of the bloodstains on the wood and hey, she was allowed to be annoyed that she was probably the only person there who didn't have to squeeze through or duck.

...how long did these stairs go again?

She was breathless before she reached the top, stopping two or three times to catch her breath and to massage the stitch in her side to a tolerable level.

“If only the exercise here transferred into the real world, then I'd really be in shape.”

Sekai muttered to herself, almost happy that she was distracting herself well enough to, well, to be of some kind of use. Even if it was going up a lot of stairs. Even some of the buildings in Ueno didn't have this many stairs for crying out loud. She frowned as she finally reached the top, looking at her mud covered knees and them carefully entered the small room. Staves, wands and various odd looking spears littered the room along with tapestries that, had she the time, she'd have liked to examine closer.

Someone was crying, she realized a heartbeat later. Looking around frantically for the source of the weeping, for the person- female it sounded like- who was somewhere around there with a rapid heartbeat, the Archer began listening closely, closing her eyes and trying to block out all sound but that of the crying she could just barely hear.

“Doko ni iru?”

She called out softly, voice anxious and out of habit, slipping back into her native Japanese as she asked where the person was. Unable to find a way to that upset person, and growing increasingly upset in return, Sekai was startled by the sight of several pens that would be right at home in her calligraphy set back in the Ueno mansion her parents owned. Examining them closer brought an unusual fill-in-the-blank puzzle before her very eyes. Murmuring it to herself, she felt something in her mind start to twist and turn.

Wait! She knew this, what was that old old old old poem?

'But I have.... there we go!'

Well... where was the ink? A swift search of the area didn't turn up any ink and she frowned at the lack of ink in the pens. What on earth could possibly be used in replacement for ink? Spit was gross and she certainly didn't have to use the restroom any time soon, though, come to think of it, apparently the bodies in this game didn't need such things and took care of it on their own. Something she liked and found rather interesting. Something chipped off her hakama, looking down at them, she realized just what was caked on there and felt her heart sink at the notion.

The edges were sharp, especially the tip, she thought weakly to herself and took two of the pens, holding one in a shaky hand as she stabbed her finger and let out a sharp cry at the blood welling up on her finger. Pressing it into the opening of the pen, she waited, squeezing her finger until it throbbed before hurriedly writing in the words left handed with her injured finger stuck in her mouth to try and soothe it. The words flashed brilliant in her eyes, pulsating with a heartbeat she swore she could feel and watched in horror as the wall began to crumble before her very eyes. A flashmail seemed like a good idea.

Oops, better make one to Sidhe or Centrus about Nemera too.

Somehow, she had a feeling Kira wasn't going to be too happy with her.

*

Soft, broken whispers of sobbing lingered in the rust stained room as she gazed at the moss, earth and wooden structures representing beds, of a small toy lying there in the middle of the bed in this blood stained room. A bear, she recalled vaguely, though she couldn't recall where she'd seen it before and reached out, kneeling down on one knee until her transparent hand rested atop the head. A flash of memory reached through, of a woman held, screaming in terror, weeping in grief as invaders ransacked the area, dragging her husband behind them with a J interposed over the rune for Krake's protected and beloved.

Rohana would have to be notified, she thought icily as she tilted her head and marked down the armor in her mind, the craftmanship, the materials and of the appearances of these human bastards.

The child in the bed caught their notice next, she made no move to stop them even as the muscles wound tightly within her body, straining as she used her control to halt the emotion, to fuel the fire within her chest that burned with the same racial hatred she could practically taste oozing off of the contemptuous, swine like faces as one unsheathed his blade and with a maniacal gleam she could see in his eyes, drove it in and out of the child's body until the figure shuddered and stopped moving.

It ended as soon as it had begun, Kira sitting back on her haunches for a moment, eying the toy curiously, contemplatively before nodding to herself and rising without another look around and headed into the next area. It was a small area for small people, that scared little girl, the one she'd left behind and yet was tied to, no matter since that was one human that she had tamed, one of the few who could likely even catch a glimmer of the power, of the greatness behind that which she knew her race, the AI, were gifted with and would respect that power that couldn't be attained save through birth right.

The time for Vagrant Ais here as rulers is at an end.

Another woman, as black haired, Juk scented and hauntingly beautiful as AI women tended to be was dragged off by another human bastard. The keening wail that followed the ghost forms into the hall didn't phase her, merely blinking an eye at the intended destruction as she looked around the rest of the scene to be played out before her. Three children huddled protectively against one another, one girl atop the crudely constructed toy in the shape of a horse, the little boy and second girl-child pressing tightly against the older's legs as the sword swung in a brilliant, cruel silver arc and shed the blood of the innocent, of the untrained against the wooden walls. One after another their bodies fell, blood pooling into a river to ooze into the ageless wood of their home, staining it with their memories, with the stench of their fear and of the orgasmic glee within the soldier's eye as he strode proudly out of the room.

Her teeth bared themselves in a parody of a smile as she rose from the crouched position, looking about the play room, the home of innocent, well meaning families who had merely wished to live their lives out in peace, instead of in pieces like the humans so enjoyed shredding cultures, entire races and lives. Yes, this was merely a game to them, now wasn't it, she reminded herself with a bell-like laugh that cut into the air as sharply as those blades had cut into those childrens' flesh.

A flashmail from that human Wavemaster, what had his name been, not that it mattered to her at the moment as she scanned the contents and felt the smile widen on her face, eyes flashing gold before the expression completely vanished. How fortunate that he too would choose such a path, to see what his people had wrought upon her own. Perhaps they would encounter one another in the near future and compare what they had seen.

”DCV IS DEAD GODFUCKINGDAMMIT.”

Not too far ahead of her at all it seemed. Her hand reached up to the bun she always wore, twisting a couple times before the tie vanished into code, useless data as she knew the AI to be recognized as. Her hair fell in a silky sheet down her back and shoulders, spilling over her hips to land at the middle of her thighs as she rose from her hunched over position and smiled.

The hunt was on.

The time for Vagrant Ais here as rulers is at an end.

Her stride was slow, deliberate and with all the practiced ease of a large, nimble feline as the Nimirja stalking their prey with that anticipation shooting euphoric adrenaline and blood-lust into her system. Every nerve heightened, aware, and sensation heightened to almost painful levels as she stalked her intended and chosen target. A doll was her target, touching it brought a flood of soldiers dragging the male and woman, that bastard who's blood she'd personally lick from the blade of her spear here soon enough and the children restrained and struggling to break free. The shout from the female, the mother, spurned a girl standing near the door, nearly hidden- stupid little shit should have hidden herself better and she may have had a chance to survive- into racing full on, head strong into the fray, screaming in fury, in terror as she charged the men holding her family captive.

A flick of the wrist and it was all over, much to her disgust as she watched the slaughter of the other children and of the screaming mother and father being dragged out to be thrown into the pyre.

Shaking her head, she looked about the room with the doll and murmured a few things in her own language. A damn shame that girl hadn't gotten the training she'd needed, might have been a damn fine warrior if she'd been allowed to grow up. Vanishing from sight, she drifted through the walls without seeing and paused when she heard footsteps from the walls and felt that smile touch her lips again. Heading him off at the pass, Kira caught sight of his shadow coming through the doorway and made herself visible, waiting for him to look up and see.

She was brilliant, he would need to be blind not to see the white light making up her body, the fury, sun-hot amber of her eyes burning in restrained, icy fury as she watched him stop, look up and freeze. Such a smart one for his race, it was really a pity. Her voice was deceptively calm, with an undertone of sweetness that was infamous for preceding a killing strike in either verbal or physical combat.

“The time for Vagrant AI here as rulers is at an end.”

Someone needed to teach the boy how to truly use neutrality, frankly, the boy wouldn't last two minutes within one of her courts and even less time if she really decided to shred the hell out of him as was rather tempting. Make this one an example as others of his race had done to her own people. Perhaps they had not shared an element, but, they were AI all the same. And therefore her people. Her expression was gone, traces of hatred, anything remotely resembling emotion void. His eyes were getting there, she would give him that much.

"You've seen the memories."

“I have seen much,”

Vague answers tended to bother people the most.

“That stuffed toy from the first room and the doll from the last, I want you to take them and show the others what occurred here. Every. Last. One. of them will see what has happened here. No exceptions.”

"...even Sekai? Or would you rather show these to her?"

She allowed him the smile on her face, the sudden surge of blood-lust, of killing intent that choked and swathed the room like a miasma before it vanished all within the span of a heartbeat. And still that smile lingered, as if there were some private joke to be shared between the two of them. Her back turned on him as she began to walk out of the room, through the doorway like a white spirit-flame torch with molten gold eyes that glanced over her shoulder once through a curtain of long, unbound hair.

Hand those to them, if they do not take it, I know who my enemies are and who is to be eliminated in the end. Her too.”

Kira began walking again, as if nothing bothered her about the situation, the rust stained walls, the horrible slaughter that had taken place. A Queen's gait and posture, that of royalty being somewhere particularly distasteful and wishing to leave at once. Her voice, cold and authoritative rang back as she recalled something he was probably holding on to false hope that she had not heard.

“Next time you scream, it'll cost you. Do it only when there is true pain to be screamed about.”

No response save for shifts of fabric, when she looked again, he wasn't there. Good. He was either cowering in the corner, which was perfectly fine with her.

Oh yes, she'd see their bodies burning, as desolate, as full of agonized yearning for death as those outside of the tree, writhing in their hell come to life. She would personally be there when they brought them down, when every last one of them would be thrown into those bloodied, empty walls and left to drown in their own blood. Each and every single one of them would know what kind of hell they had brought upon those who hadn't been able to defend themselves, who had been lost the first time a blade had been shown.

From behind those empty walls.

She would deliver them to that kind of hell herself.

From behind those fucking walls.

She would extract her revenge, wring every bit of pain, suffering and regret that those with 'souls' could possibly give her.

From behind those goddamn walls.

Kira breathed in deep, the scent of blood, of cooked, burning flesh and hair, of sorrow and hatred stung her throat, clogged her senses in a way that nearly made her, dare she say it, excited for what was to come next. Amber eyes shone with malice, barely restrained rage with with contemptuous hatred for the humans lying before her and those hiding out in their safe little lairs, completely unaware of who they were messing with, what this small group was going to do.

And if she had her way about it, those responsible for this genocide wouldn't be waking up in either world ever again.

-Zan-

The field’s slow descent into madness was allowed a momentary distraction as a new player made his way onto the collective scene, one initially gauged as a threat before a soft gleam entered the eyes of the threatening female Heavy Blade. The mini-speech that ensued was hardly any of his business and, though he could hear the words themselves, their content went more or less unheeded. The spectacle was over almost as soon as it had begun, finding its finale as the first plip-plops of something or other began to hit the ground. It was too thick, too meaty to be rain, but with them the smell of blood mounted higher and higher still until it mingled with an entropy that bit at Zan’s nose like burnt hair and a plethora of oozingly infected wounds. A twitch of his keener eyes and the werewolf was aware; maggots. Great. Just absolutely fantastic. He was far from squeamish, this much was true, but he still reviled the thought of their squirming texture on his skin. A few of the pests landed on his jacket, easily flicked away, but fate spared him any traumatizing hits. A look to Nemera, however, showed amused eyes that she hadn’t fared as well. Closer inspection of the trees showed the Lycan that they too had seen better days. Rivers of festering wounds had ripped their way along previously mighty faces of bark.

Faces. Almost as soon as the thought had entered his mind - or perhaps because of their presence - a zoo of horror-contorted expressions littered their way along the trunks. As one could have expected from the Highers (or what of the Highers Zan had been informed about), these same faces would simply vanish upon directed eye contact; always staying in the corner, always lurking, always whispering the haunting messages written in their eyes. No. The proverbial whispers, it seemed, were actual whispers digging at his ears from this way and that. They seemed to drift and, after a look with inhumanly glowing, wolven amber irises that often tagged along in combination with the use of his heightened sight, they appeared to have no actual host. So, it was just another mind trick. Huffing, Zan pulled himself away from his brief fascination with the trees, only to be stopped by a glow that halted his heart. In what felt like slow-motion, recolored, cold blue eyes lofted to the skies and marveled at the majesty of the full moon above. It wasn’t just there, no. Its body to seemed to consume the darkened heavens of the Juk Prison Field like the watchful eye of God. For a second, the lycanthrope’s attempts at breathing came out only as noiseless swallows. Pupils swelled and receded like waves crashing against the shores of awe itself. Time didn’t exist. The Eventides around him didn’t exist. It was only he…it…and the Beast.

Or so the flash of crystalline insanity would have had him believe. Over almost as soon as it had started, the aftermath left Zan in a state of realization. It hadn’t been the eye of God, no, but the magnifying glass of a sadistic child held up to the sun to watch them all burn. With a shine of something close to arrogance, the Heavy Blade whipped up a strong middle finger and aimed it at the would-be moon with blatant disregard. He knew moons and that, well, that simply wasn’t one. Rather, it was the nightmare of a moon borne of the mind of a blood-soaked, bloodstained sociopath. Zan steeled himself for the road ahead, the road against these sons of a bitch, with a shield of apathy from their tricks. The resolve made, it was only then that the player began to make sense of a sound his brain had been slapping him with for the past few seconds. Something, something off to the left, was moaning and dragging itself towards them. Turning to it, the werewolf winced at its visage. It appeared trapped, no…lost, within its own pallor flesh like a mentally ill patient attempting to flee their restraints. Zan felt pity for it as he took a step forward and he found himself unable to completely wish it harm. Then, of course, its moans halted at Nemera’s mumbles and its posture spoke of a frightened animal geared to strike rather than the previously dazed lunatic. It would, if only out of necessity, have to be put down like the rabid dog it almost certainly was.

When the awful sound of regurgitation filled the air, Zan could do little but watch as the stream of red blood/vomit/something struck their leader in the face and the arm with the hiss of boiling skin. Be it that Nemera was incredibly strong or just stubborn, she seemed to pay no heed to her injuries and went about slamming into the thing time and time again with her massive weapon. The interval, though dispersed with odd whimpers as it was, gave the Lycan the time he needed to notice the odd red-orange cracks left the in the wake of the monster’s steps. They’d seal up almost as soon as they’d blossom, sure, but it was a mystery just the same. Maybe, just maybe, this was the Dread Code Sekai had so thoroughly warned him about? Certainly a monster that brought it in slides of its awkwardly angled feet shouldn’t be approached with the kind of hasty brutality the leather-clad woman was delivering. Whatever the case, the letter-jumbled being was only put down with the coup de grâce of a wavering, semi-invisible burst of what could be assumed was kinetic energy. Zan found himself pondering over Devil who, at one point, could only be hurt by Twilight attacks. Was that the same here? Stashing it away in his thoughts, the werewolf took a step towards Nemera to help look at her injuries when she simply dropped.

The two closest to her, Baron and the new Centrus guy, caught her before she could do any real damage to herself. A look to her pupils, to their wild flutter up and into her head, told Zan all he needed to know about her condition. This was serious. Something about the freak data of the Dblahblahwhatever hitting her with its equally freaky attack had infected her with something. Sidhe, either sensing this or simply deciding to be an asshole, decided Baron wasn’t the one who should be at her side and promptly pushed the kid away before taking his place. The action was followed by a spiel about getting the hell out of there, something Zan was keen to heed as at least a dozen more of the atrocities began to slowly move from behind the trees. How many of those were actually in this forest, this field? Whatever it was, the werewolf certainly didn’t want to stick around and find out. Tapping into his training under the Freedom Fighters, he was quick to issue out position orders (er…requests?) to keep Nemera and those looking after her in the best position possible. Taking point with, hopefully, a few others, he maneuvered his way at least a dozen or so yard in front of Sidhe, Centrus and the fallen Nemera in hopes of scouting out any possible danger. All the while, the subtle fear of the Merged pulling him in remained. Whatever it was trying to do, Zan knew it was safe to assume the bestial psychopath had nothing good planned and would fight that pull until he couldn’t any longer. After all, one of his main objectives there was to protect Sekai - even before the others - and that wasn’t a task he trusted to it.

Time drifted for a while, the forest they were in seeming to encompass a rather impressive range. Zan heard the pyre and its victims well before he saw it, something that had him increasing his gait to something panicked (effectively leaving the others behind and obliterating his own strategic designs). He moved with a speed that was absolutely unfathomable for a Heavy Blade - something that’d even impress a Twin Blade of his level - but he figured it was hardly the time to worry about using his Twilight in front of the newbies. This field was already dishing out weirder shit than a werewolf, not to mention a crack-baby-fast broadsword user. Once upon it, the Lycan immediately wished he had taken his sweet time, feet coming to a sloppy pause against the blood-muddy ground. The resolve that he made, the inner vow that had been spoken to be selfless and finally start using his Twilight gifts for the benefit of someone not him, had branded itself onto his brain and his heart in turn. Be it just his personality, or an aspect of the Beast, that vow (and simple humanity) made looking at the tortured, almost elfish people heartbreaking.

Before he took action, however, Zan allowed himself a moment of puzzlement: none of them had a scent. Admittedly, burning flesh would normally override the usual, but even that was vacant. It was like a void…like what he was seeing wasn’t really there. Still, he was moving again before he could register his own action, hands shooting into the fire to get them out…and his mind was somewhere else. Flashes of the adults being huddled together, most of them still alive, as the dozens of Burning Oils were splashed on them and the ground around them. Any who tried to run were promptly kicked back by the circle of jade-armored soldiers sporting scale and a big ‘J’ over the symbol of Juk. Is that what the J meant? It didn’t matter, soon enough. A flick of a Vak spell, out of place for the field as it may have been, and everything went up. Again they tried, in midst of their own terrible screams, to escape, but again they’d be kicked back into the circle. When ‘straight through’ was an obvious hopelessness, some even began to try to use each other as makeshift ladders to leap over the guards. The soldiers simply stood, and watched, and kicked until the movement finally ceased, the whole thing interspersed with occasional bouts of laughter. When the flash ended, when the increasingly throbbing headache and quickly dropping SP gauge snapped him out of it, Zan’s hands immediately retracted themselves from the blaze. There was no damage to his flesh, but he did feel emotionally sapped. He hadn't saved them...he couldn't save them...already he was failing.

If more time had been allotted to him, he would have questioned it, but he knew he had to get back to the others, especially after a flick of his gaze landed on the sickly glow of a Juk glyph on the nearby, monumental tree. Sidhe was the first to get his message and what elapsed from there on out became a blur. The head he had somehow missed in all of his bewilderment, the different paths people set out to take, a conversation with Baron. All of it. Something in his gut, something he had come to relate to the wolf’s instinct, told him not to enter…and he obeyed. It wasn’t a place people should be going into, should be violating with their presence. Zan’s mind, reflexively, related it to a kind of grave robbing. Still, he knew they needed to do to proceed, so he didn’t stop his teammates from doing so. The werewolf, keeping post by Nemera and those that kept still to watch her, only grew nervous when Sekai finally left to poke around as well. Between Takua’s yells and Kira’s bizarre conversation pieces - the latter of which he was only able to hear because of the virus that he had discussed with Baron - it seemed an increasingly bad idea…but still he didn’t move. Zan was trying his best to bond more with his Beast, to accept it as a part of him. There were parts - the need to taste flesh and blood - that went obviously ignored in most situations, but others didn’t require the kind of caution he used almost constantly.

It was almost absurd, after all this time, to still be denying aspects of who he was. To most, he’d boast about his accomplishments and control over/with the Beast, but he was finding out as of late that he had barely touched the surface. Finding the book, ‘The Shadow of The World’, had been an eye-opener. There were things he needed to do in Zeta, things he felt were programmed obligations, that a part of him had always been aware of. That part was one of many that had been locked away when Zan had been granted ‘control.’ Rather than a person with the reins, the Lycan was coming to find he was merely someone who had successfully managed to lock themselves in a cramped panic room. The more he explored the world outside of it, metaphorically of course, the more powerful and more skilled he found himself becoming. It was true that such roads were treacherous, that power earned and power taken with greed could become mixed and bleed together, but so far he had done alright playing it by ear. Something like accepting the whisper not to go somewhere might have seemed simple to some, perhaps hollow to others, but Zan knew the more he listened to his inner wolf, that pesky Beast, the more he’d be able to grow…and the more he’d be able to protect. With Takua suddenly there, items offered, the lycanthrope took a second to see what the items offered before shuddering back into himself with ample hate for those that 'ruled' this place before he pushed his mind to dwindle on a point that previous contemplations had inspired.

Did…did that make this pull from the Merged just another test of his willingness to become a little more grey in the distinction of ‘human’? Was it so powerful, that urge, because it was vital? Was…

A Flashmail from Sekai paused that train of thought and sent him bolting up the annoyingly long, long, long path that eventually brought him to her. Had she solved the puzzle here? Was it time to move on? Or, more frighteningly, had she just accidentally damned them all?

Such were the questions of a Higher Prison Field, questions that he knew would never be answered until it was far too late.

Raising the back of her hand to cover her mouth and nose didn’t help keep the stench, of what she had now figured out to be blood, from her senses. The sky was dark and sounds of wood splintering explosions were everywhere. The expression on her face was a mixture of disgust at the smell and uneasiness, but hoping the darkness would keep any wandering eyes from noticing most of it. As much as she wanted to keep up a strong exterior, she wasn’t really all that good at it and eventually it would crumble allowing all to see what she was feeling. Scrunching her nose as another whiff of the liquid of life practically overwhelmed the air around her, the Twin Blade was beginning to understand what Takua was trying to tell her all along; something she had tried so desperately hard to believe couldn‘t be as bad as he had made it seem. The disbelief was crumbling quickly, what little of it there was to begin with.

A closer look at the tree she was near told her what the noises were. Large cracks appeared, seeping with a slimy looking liquid. Oozing trees were not a sign of anything positive. The young girl took several steps backwards away from the tree, but not before her eyes saw something falling in front of her. The ground around her feet looked soft and mushy and riddled with small puddles of a red liquid. Lifting her foot just high enough to notice the liquid that dripped from it wasn’t thin enough to be water but not thick enough to be the slime pussing from the trees. They were all standing in a muck mixture of blood and earth with small white specks sprinkled everywhere. Bending down, Talal picked one of the white specks up to see what it was and flicked it away just as quickly when it started moving in her fingers; her head began to snap this way and that out of natural reflex as she practically hopped up from her squatting position. She hated creepy crawly bugs; shuddering and stepping back even further away from the tree where the white specks seemed to thin out and wishing she could find a nice dry patch of grass to stand on.

The sound of the flashmail had almost been drowned out by the sounds of the forest. Seeing it was from Centrus, the first thought she had was that he was checking up to make sure she was following through on her promise to deliver the items to Nemera. Having missed what was looking like possibly the only opportunity to make an exchange back in the alley; Talal was not quite sure how she was going to respond. A lump formed in her throat as she opened the message. Seeing the words ’Sorry I’m a little late’ causing her to practically choke when she gasped and turned her head quickly around the field to find him, but the moonlit darkness made it difficult.

He said he wasn’t coming. I wonder what changed his mind?

Dark brown eyes narrowed in on a slight shimmer from a blade just in time to see Nemera coming extremely close to lopping off the head of the silver-haired Fist Fighter. Her eyes widened when the blade stopped and was followed by a soft hand being lifted to his face.

Maybe he should take his items back and give them to her himself.

Nemera’s hands then forcibly met with his chest sending him down to the ground, splashing in the muck as harsh words came streaming from her lips aimed at the downed player. Changing the direction of her eyesight, the Twin Blade tried to find anything other than the Fist Fighter and the Heavy Blade to look at.

Or not.

It was then when her peripheral vision caught sight of the trees. The surrounding trees seemed to be closing in, looming ever closer almost leaning. But when she turned to verify what her mind was telling her was there, nothing but the cracked and oozing trees stood. She felt like she was in one of those fabled cartoons where the trees come alive with long evil and grotesque faces on them, their branches reaching out from above like arms and hands to grab the unsuspecting traveler below. This field seemed to enjoy messing with everyone’s vision, making them think they are seeing something but not. Coupled with the groans they were now hearing instead of the giggling laughter, Talal couldn’t figure out which one she’d rather listen to. The giggling was annoying, but the groans…they made her shudder.

Looking to her side expecting to see the group of Nimirja, it surprised and frightened the girl a bit to not see them. The sound of the Nemera’s voice brought the frantically searching girl back to the moment at hand. They were gone and somehow the group was not where they were just a few moments ago, or so the leader thought. Her feet shuffling in the blood soaked ground, she nervously began spinning her blades. It wouldn’t do her any good by doing so, but it did seem to help keep her somewhat focused…on something.

That focus soon centered on something dragging its way from the trees, moaning with every step. The closer the creature got, the more hideous it appeared. Although much, much larger, it was something akin to a patched together doll with no face where the legs had been switched so that it couldn’t walk straight and the arms had been lost all together or left off, only this doll was covered in dead looking flesh instead of a smooth plastic cover. For now it looked lost and wandering, maybe they should just let it pass; Talal taking a couple of steps back and to the side to do just that. That was when Nemera piped up at the sight before her and the creature stopped.

A face that had appeared and disappeared before came back through the skin and stayed in place. It hurled liquid, from its oversized mouth that appeared out of the flesh from seemingly nowhere, at the female Heavy Blade like water from a fire hose that wasn’t quite at full power. It was putrid looking with a sound to match, making anyone in their right mind want to hurl. Screaming, the woman raised her sword and slashed away without remorse until it was down. She swung one last time like she had at the start of the field and head was no longer attached to torso, separated by some sort of blast or shock wave. The black-haired girl resolved herself to simply accept whatever skills she witnessed from her surrounding companions. There wasn’t the time to ask questions, and truly it was probably none of her business what or even how they acquired such skills.

When she turned Talal’s eyes grew and if she didn’t know better her mouth was probably partly open in shock at the blistered sight of Nemera’s face and skin. Only seconds passed and thankfully Centrus and Baron were close enough to her to each catch an arm as her body just gave out. The look in her eyes would tell anyone she wasn’t doing well if the whole collapsing hadn’t already given that away. The small Archer walked closer, arms extended to help but then did nothing. Everyone was watching but not really doing anything to help her besides keep her off the ground. The Twin Blade unwilling to just accept there was nothing they could do for her quickly stepped up and cast a Repth on the now unconscious Heavy Blade. The healing blue light surrounded her as brown eyes widened in hope that it worked. As the light dimmed, the only thing it helped was to make the popping, grotesque and painful looking blisters disappear; her skin healing for the most part, but she didn’t wake. Beads of sweat formed along her forehead like someone with a high fever. She closed her eyes and looked away as if she had failed to provide any help at all and more puzzle pieces fell into place.

That’s two. How many of them that came along on this quest, are already trapped here?

There was no time to ponder her own question, the group was moving, Sidhe rather abruptly taking Baron’s place at Nemera’s side. More of the, lucky for them, slow moving creatures were coming out from the trees. Zan was taking point and more or less requesting that everyone else make a protected circle formation of sorts around Centrus, Nemera and Sidhe with some on flank, some bringing up the rear and the rest joining him up front. Sekai and Takua had already fallen into the flanking positions so Talal went ahead of them to join Zan. Point was probably not the best spot for her but she was already in position. She ran ahead several yards attempting to stay up with Zan as best she could.

The group moved as quickly as possible, looking for God knows what; a place to rest, a place to hide, someone that wasn’t wanting to kill every last one of them at their first opportunity and possibly cure their leader? Talal did her best to keep up, which being a Twin Blade helped a bit, but Zan all of a sudden shot out in a sprint like a cheetah on two legs. Even with a speed charm she would have never been able to catch up to him. She didn’t like the idea of not having him up front within her sight, but felt it was safer staying with the group than chasing after him. Hopefully someone else would though since it probably wasn’t good to go off alone in this field if their short preview so far was any indicator to what was to come.

They covered more distance, the field a lot larger than she could have ever imagined any of them to be. Zan finally returned running straight over to Sidhe to report what they found. With a wave of Sidhe’s head, the group continued moving forward in the direction that Zan had just returned from. Keeping her distance of several yards ahead of the group, Talal was one of the first behind the Heavy Blade to approach the area. Her eyes went everywhere, up, down, and to the sides. Trees too often than not, allowed for a good leaping point for the attacker to launch down upon the unsuspecting. She was not going to end up as one of those unsuspecting victims. Her look skywards found what was probably once an intricately designed pathway of bridges connecting the trees. As they got closer to their destination, it seemed the bridges became more tattered remnants of branches than any actual bridge.

She approached slowly hearing sobs and wailing, a light source illuminating the area just ahead. As she rounded a tree the young girl stopped in horror. There, just in front of a large tree with a large green symbol emanating from the bark like a life force was a large pyre of burning people. They were still moving, climbing atop of each other, trying to escape but for some reason, they couldn’t. A loud gasp managed to escape her lips before her hand quickly snapped up to cover her mouth and muffling whatever scream or sound that would have followed. Who are they? What are they? Why are they still burning after all this time? Why are they still alive? That was when Takua tried stepped up to the burning corpses and attempted to cast what looked like a Rue spell. The girl watched with high hopes only to be let down yet again at the field not letting go of its victims so easily.

Stepping closer now she looked away from the burning pile of what looked like elvish type people based on their pointy ears. Her ears caught the sound before her eyes found its source. If the burning pile of wailing people hadn’t been enough, her eyes landed on a child’s head, mounted on a pole. It was somehow animated and repeating the same message over and over again. Talal closed her eyes tightly, eye lids holding back the tears of emotion that were ready to just spill out. She listened to the message, but wouldn’t look at the child’s face any longer. What barbarian would do something so horrible to a mere child? Anger began to replace the tears from the inside out. Whoever did this was going to pay. She wasn’t sure exactly how, but in the end those who would take lives so willingly and boastfully, would get their just rewards. As that old saying goes, ‘what goes around, comes around.’

Storing away the message ringing into her ears, she looked over and watched as several of the group headed into the tree. She quickly followed them in, feeling that anywhere else would be better than staying out there for the time being. Not to mention an extra set of eyes searching or looking around never seemed to hurt. Making her way around the still burning pile, she stepped through the outer opening in the tree, shaped much like a small doorway hunching a bit and ducking her head. Inside were three separate paths that could be taken and everyone else had already chosen and were on there way and out of sight.

Choosing the center pathway, Talal climbed the short ladder that went about six feet up and crawled through the next opening. Inside the small opening was another ladder that seemed to go up forever. Her thoughts turned humorous if only for a second as she thought about the minor fact that she wouldn’t have to worry about feeling the burn in her leg muscles when she reached the top. The humor turned back into sadness as thoughts centered on Sekai and how she would feel after such a climb. A strong gut feeling told her that Nemera would be the same way. She had seen Sekai enter just before she did and could only hope that she chose a different path.

The climb seemed to take forever, but she knew she was making good time. She was about three quarters of the way up when a flashmail came from Takua noting not to go left. She had gone up the middle so at least she didn’t have to worry about whatever it was that he saw. He had mentioned something about the memories of whoever lived here and briefly wondered what he meant by that as she finished climbing the last of the stairs. Finally reaching the top, she found Sekai writing? on the wall. Shaking it off as another abnormality for the moment, considering that the young Archer hadn’t struck Talal as the type to deface property, she must have a good reason for doing whatever it is she’s doing.

Her quick glance around the room filled her eyes with awe. The walls were home to a variety of weapons and tapestries. Looking up towards the ceiling, it looked perhaps weather stained like water stains that show up on white painted ceilings when the roof leaks. Considering they were in a tree, it made sense but something just didn’t seem quite right. She took another look around the room noting that these weapons must have belonged to the people down below. Almost squinted eyes looked angrily back up at the ceiling at the thought and stared. Why did the stains look like there was a pattern? There was some more of that strange green glow that made up the symbol on the tree as well. Cocking her head to the side and stepping back just a bit, it hit her like a Mac truck against a brick wall. She saw faces frozen in what were probably their final agonizing moments. Several dozen pairs of eyes stared back at her sending chills throughout the girl sitting behind the FMD back in the real world. They were all…children.

It was all she could do not to scream at the sight of the small body parts that had somehow been stitched to the ceiling and in no particular order. Legs were next to heads, arms next to feet and most of the bodies were not…complete; pieces just thrown together in some kind of twisted, macabre mural. Carved across them in the same glowing green energy she remembered seeing on Saol’s armor, were the words “CONCEDE AND BOW”. What kind of monsters could do this to these people, especially the children?

I will not concede nor bow to anyone who is behind this massacre!

She looked over at Sekai just as she received her flashmail. The Archer staring at the wall she had just been writing on as it looked like it was starting to crumble? She honestly didn’t even know if the silver-haired girl knew she had arrived in the room or not. Slowly approaching the small female, Talal turned to her in as soft and calm of a voice considering the situation.

”Sekai, I believe I know the fate of the children that resided here. If you feel you can stomach a gruesome sight, look to the ceiling. However, I don’t recommend it.”

Before the Twin Blade could ask about what she had wrote on the wall and why it was crumbling, Zan was in the room looking like he had questions of his own.

Baron sat in silence as the darkness rose around him, threatening to suffocate him in its chilling embrace. The Twin Blade watched as the giant sentinels, the ancient trees that had provided a sense of security, cracked and split around them, attacked by an unknown force that shattered them and tore their bark into chunks. However, the destruction didn’t end there, as even the remaining stripped trees of deadwood weren’t left alone. Looking around, Baron could see something akin to maggots squirming through the jagged strips of wood that remained on the giant oaks. The slimy white insects crawled through the remains of the trees, wriggling in the cracks that marred their surfaces. Baron shuddered, immediately visualizing the trees almost as if they were human corpses, rotted but still retaining a semblance to their former selves. The parallelism was too similar, and the Twin Blade shook his head to clear the image away.

A sickening “plop” nearby caused Baron to turn, just in time to see another maggot fall from above and narrowly miss falling on the Twin Blade’s head. Putting his hand to his hair and pulling, Baron looked and threw the maggots that were in his hands off to the side, before hurriedly trying to scrape any more out of his hair. Without being able to actually feel it, he couldn’t be sure that he had gotten them all, though it didn’t seem to matter much. Looking around, Baron realized that the maggots were falling from the branches above, separating from their brethren as they searched out fresh life to drain. Baron grimaced, but didn’t see a single area of shelter that could protect him from the putrid rain of squirming, slimy creatures. All he could do was clear them off of his head and shoulders until it stopped. He was tempted to set a Vak Rom to torching a few trees and clearing the area.

As a matter of fact, he did, switching weapons so that his Yosetu and Fuyou were out, though they were back in his sheaths, since the Twin Blade didn’t know that he could attack anything that was around anyway. After all, this “Swath” thing, or whatever it was, seemed to be intangible to their PCs, aside from the disturbing rain of maggots that seemed to do nearly nothing. The one thing it did do was drive Baron up the wall, between the sickeningly wet “plops” and the squishy sound that the mass of creatures made as they crawled up the trunk, moving along the stripped wood and squirming over each other. Reacting quickly, the Twin Blade sent a fiery Vak Rom washing over the nearest tree in a fit of burgeoning insanity. The flames licked across the wood, but the tree was slow to catch, and when it finally did, the fire moved almost languidly up the trunk, jumping in short spurts as maggots were consumed. It didn’t spread beyond the one tree, but Baron was satisfied with the results nonetheless.

Scorched husks of what had been maggots fell to the ground as the fire engulfed them, small tendrils of thick gray smoke rising from each of the fallen insects. Sheathing his blades, Baron was suddenly glad that he was unable to smell anything, but froze at the thought and looked over at Sekai. If she really was comatose, as things suggested, then she’d have to suffer the scorched smell of roasted flesh. However, the Twin Blade still couldn’t believe that a comatose player could still be in the game, moving, talking, and controlling her character as if everything was normal. There was no way that an actual consciousness could be held within The World itself, no way to transfer thoughts and other electrical impulses from the brain without still being connected. It was obvious that the mind would remain with the body, so unless the body was dragged into the game as well, not the case since they were only referred to as “comatose,” there was no logical way to prove that Sekai was one of the comatose, or that such a thing- a comatose player still controlling his or her character- could actually exist.

Looking over at Sekai, though, Baron’s disbelief was beginning to waver. The female Archer had put both hands over her mouth and nose, as if trying not to gag on a stench that Baron couldn’t detect, and she was shaky and pale. It looked so realistic that the Twin Blade wanted to walk over to her and apologize. However, Baron’s mental walls shot up, and the iron frame that was his disbelief in the possibility of comatose players still being in the game reminded him that this was just a game, and there was no way that she could actually be smelling it. It was probably a visual reaction- the sight of scorched maggots writhing in the flames, some still alive, was a pretty gruesome image. But still… Sekai seemed to seriously be suffering from the burnt maggots, and Baron was still wondering if there was something more to the female Archer that he just didn’t understand. If only this whole comatose thing made sense…

Baron’s thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of another PC, one that the Twin Blade couldn’t mark as friend or foe immediately. However, if Nemera’s stunned reaction indicated anything, this was an unexpected ally that she had been hoping for. Something akin to helpless thanks seemed to shine in the Heavy Blade’s eyes, a gentle hand rising to the new arrival’s cheek in a happiness that Baron hadn’t yet seen from her. However, Nemera soon caught on to the fact that she was showing a lot more positive emotion than before, and quickly her defenses shot back up as she pushed the man into the mud, which Baron noted with an almost detached disinterest was mixed with something awfully similar to blood. Another similar note came when the Twin Blade realized that the newcomer, tagged “Centrus” was a Fist Fighter, due to the lack of weapons aside from the tonfas at his sides. Both were slightly irrelevant, but Baron filed the information away for a more necessary time.

Something at the edge of Baron’s vision caused the Twin Blade to whirl around to see what had changed, but nothing greeted him beyond the sight of the stripped and maggot-infested trees. Baron shook his head, realizing that he was becoming overly paranoid with all of the strange events happening in the field, the Juk Prison. The Twin Blade shook his head angrily, annoyed by the confusion that was threatening to engulf him. Why was he so worried? It was an online game. There was no such thing as comatose players still controlling their characters and moving around. There was no such thing as being able to be trapped within a simple game. There was nothing that could make the impossible real…

A few things still nagged at his mind, though, and that was what prevented Baron from completely disbelieving all that had happened. That smell, the cloying stench of spilled blood that had only been present within the game- that was one thing he couldn’t refute for sure. When Locke, in the real world, had taken off his headset, the smell had vanished, and when the equipment was replaced, the odor had returned. There was no way to explain that, since Locke knew that there was no way to detect smells via the headset. That was one of the two reasons that he couldn’t immediately disclaim the Eventide Crescendo’s belief that one could actually be trapped in The World.

The other reason was Sekai herself, but as it was, Baron wasn’t sure whether or not to believe her comatose status. True, she had not yet lied to him, though they had only met once before the Juk Prison, and Baron had no reason to simply believe that she was being deceitful. It didn’t seem to be in the female Archer. But it just seemed so illogical! So much so that the Twin Blade’s thinking was going in circles, and he wasn’t getting anywhere. But until something happened, until the group moved on, thinking was all Baron could do.

Fortunately, the interruption that the Twin Blade needed came sooner than expected. Nemera began speaking, and the instant that she mentioned the Nimirja, Baron looked around and realized that the giant felines were indeed gone. Another shift at his side caught his attention momentarily, and as the Twin Blade turned, he realized that he had seen something like a tortured face looming out of a nearby trunk, a cry of pain frozen behind wooden lips but still communicating itself through the thing’s expression. It was gone before the Baron could get a clear view of it, but the brief glimpse that he had gotten caused chills to dance up and down the Twin Blade’s spine. There had been an feeling of clear agony behind that mask, and even if it was just an effect of the field, there was still something eerie about it.

Baron caught the very end of Nemera’s speech as he relaxed again, his hands still resting on the hilts of both blades hanging at his sides. “Sit tight?” How was he supposed to just sit and wait while the field around them remained twisted and perverted? And what would sitting around do? Having not heard the rest of the conversation, Baron wasn’t sure whether they were waiting for the Nimirja to come back, or another ally was coming. Maybe the field would eventually fade back to normal, and the originally beautiful forest would return? Baron wasn’t sure why he had to wait, but all of the maybes weren’t helping, so he just followed Nemera’s orders and waited. There was nothing else that he could think to do.

Closing his eyes, Baron allowed himself to completely relax. The views of the forest around him faded, and only the sounds of nervous shifting, as well as the crackling of the smoldering tree, invaded the soothing darkness that cleared his mind. The Twin Blade slowed his breathing, trying to reduce his rapid heart rate to one more tolerable. The adrenaline rush that had come naturally with the stress of the Eventide Crescendo’s current situation finally died down, and Baron finally was calm once more, all of his worried thoughts about the impossible situation he was in fading away. Everything was forgotten in that moment of calm, but unfortunately, it didn’t last.

A muffled curse from Nemera caused Baron to open his eyes and look around, wondering what had happened. The Twin Blade noticed a new sound in the air, one so faint that he had almost missed it. It was almost like people were whispering around the group, just outside of one’s vision. However, that wasn’t what Nemera seemed concerned about. Following the Heavy Blade’s line of sight, Baron almost swore himself, no matter how much he usually refused to do so. His Yosetu and Fuyou were quickly switched out for the Mukuro, both weapons gleaming with an ebony sheen as they were held out in the light of a bright silver moon looming overhead. All sense of calm had been obliterated once more.

A shambling figure, short in stature and almost like a corpse, headed towards the group. Originally, Baron hadn’t seen the outline of arms in the moonlit silhouette, but he assumed that it was simply a visual issue. When it drew closer, though, the Twin Blade realized that the monster did indeed have arms- just not where it would be expected. Trapped beneath the skin of the torso, the two appendages wriggled with each movement that the approaching monster made. The morbid sight almost seemed to catch Baron in a fascination of disgust and made him want to be sick. Even worse, was that the monster also seemed to be infantile, at least in mind, as it walked forward with its feet turned inwards, stumbling towards the group of players. Ashen-grey skin showed in the moonlight, and Baron almost felt sick. A blank face, smooth as silk, was only changed when an expression momentarily pushed its way to the surface before being swallowed again. The Twin Blade targeted the monster out of reflex, not out of any need to know what it was. The name was garbled, but Baron translated it roughly as “Desperation.”

The Twin Blade stepped backwards a few paces, involuntarily increasing the distance between himself and the monster. It continued shambling forward, moaning in agony. Baron stepped back again, his hands on the controller actually shaking in a combination of disgust and horror. A face finally forced its way to the surface for good, a mouth visible, contorted in an O of agony. The opening widened further and further, more so than a human mouth could, but then again, this thing was hardly human. The mouth opened enough to fill the creature’s entire face. The monster was facing towards Nemera, who was at the fore of the group, Sidhe standing at her side. Baron was about to yell a warning to the Eventide Crescendo’s leader, but he was a second too late as a blood-red stream of liquid shot from “Desperation’s” mouth, splashing over Nemera’s arms, raised in a desperate attempt to shield herself from the attack.

A sizzle went up as the liquid contacted Nemera’s flesh, as well as a cry of pain. Baron immediately winced at the sounds, and went over to help the female Heavy Blade, but before he could do anything, she let out a primal scream, an almost animal-like sound of fear and anger. That alone gave Baron pause, and he froze as Nemera attacked “Desperation” in a furious assault of slashes. Several dry thuds were heard as her broadsword cleaved into the monster, and a small, almost animal-like whimper seemed to follow from “Desperation.” Another gush of the red liquid seemed to shoot from each wound that Nemera left, reinforcing Baron’s idea that it was blood, though corrosive in some way, even to flesh. However, each time the Heavy Blade struck, the monster kept coming back without even seeming to falter, until one last hit finally knocked it to the ground. It continued wriggling and squirming on the ground, moaning with each movement. Nemera lost it at that point and sent a small wave of energy at it.

That was the second time that the female Heavy Blade had used that strange move- it was something that Baron had never seen in the game specs before. He had fought a few Heavy Blades before, and none that he knew were able to use such a skill. Was Nemera a hacker? It seemed logical, in a sense, that only a hacker could combat whatever this group of… Highers, was it? It made sense, though- the identity blocker, the way that they got into what should be a high-security field in the Theta server directly from Mac Anu. All of the facts pointed to the chance that the Eventide Crescendo was lead by a group of hackers. They were benevolent, true enough, but the point remained that they were indeed hackers. That would explain a lot of what was going on.

However, after hitting the “Desperation” with her energy wave, the monster finally collapsed, dropping to the ground. It didn’t vanish, as Baron had expected it to, but that still wasn’t much of a surprise. Very little in the field was expectable, as it was, so the Twin Blade had finally just quit trying to make sense of it. The monster just lay on the ground, sprawled out like a human corpse that had simply been dumped aside. Nemera looked somewhat satisfied, though, since the thing was no longer moving, and turned towards the group. Again, Baron stepped back out of reflex, but this time in disgust instead of fear. Dark red boils and open sores were all across Nemera’s face and arm where the blood-like liquid had struck her. The female Heavy Blade gave a questioning look at everyone’s faces (Baron had realized to his relief that he wasn’t the only one that had flinched in horror) before noticing her hand and probing at her corroded face. With widening eyes, she started to quake. Baron ran over to her without thinking about it, seeing their leader ready to collapse. As soon as he had gotten hold of an arm, though, Nemera’s eyes rolled up in her head and she completely collapsed, held only partially up by Baron and Centrus, who had also run over to help.

That was only the beginning of the troubles, though. With a few scraping shuffles, a few more of the creatures seemed to be approaching, at least a dozen in number. Where the previous one hadn’t seemed to even notice the party of players, these seemed drawn to them like flies to honey. Baron wanted to swear once more (two times in one day- that was impressive for the conservative Twin Blade!) but maintained his calm, standing aside Nemera to support her. If they were going to be moving, then she’d need help getting along, since she could barely support herself in her injured state. However, Sidhe decided to muscle his way in with a shove that nearly sent Baron sprawling into the mud-and-blood mix. Fortunately, the Twin Blade caught his balance before it happened, but it was a close call.

After the rude shove by Sidhe, Baron shrugged and took point along with Zan’s motioning, joining the vanguard of the protective circle around the fallen Nemera. Sidhe was giving orders, immediately taking charge now that the female Heavy Blade was fallen. It was probably a system set in place in case one leader fell. Between the blue-clad Long Arm and Zan, the two seemed to have things under control, so Baron simply did as he was told and followed. Before he left, though, he took one last look back at Nemera, wishing he could help her some way- her wounds seemed so real, the pain evident on her face, but Baron just couldn’t bring himself to believe that she was actually feeling it. He wanted to believe- it would explain a lot of what was happening- but if there wasn’t any solid evidence aside from the coma victims themselves, some way to explain how a comatose player could be in the game, he couldn’t.

Musing over those thoughts as he continued ahead, Baron sent his gaze back towards their fallen leader again as she was held up by Sidhe and Centrus. The three of them were moving at a slower pace then usual (and for good reason), so Baron had to check his speed once again, even though the Ap Do that he had been given before had been lost when he had been ghosted. The whole group had to maintain their protective circle around Nemera while she was recovering, though. If anything attacked, the female Heavy Blade would be in no condition to defend herself, so it was up to the group to repulse any assaults. If anything broke through the circle of players, Sidhe and Centrus would be the final line of defense, guarding Nemera. It was a good defensive plan, and Baron was inclined to follow it since he had none of his own. Zan seemed to know what he was doing, and the most knowledgeable of the group aside from Sidhe and Nemera.

Since Baron and Zan were both at the front of the circle, the Twin Blade had the perfect opportunity to ask a few questions of the normally silent Heavy Blade. However, he had to frame them right, so as not to be rude or affronting. Baron had seen the man fighting the Knights of War in Mac Anu’s main plaza, and he was brutal (efficient, yes, but still brutal) in his fighting style, tearing through his foes in a matter of seconds without hesitation. While the Twin Blade respected Zan’s focus in fighting, he also was a tad hesitant about the man’s ruthlessness. So far, Baron hadn’t seen a smile or any other emotion other than the seemingly permanent scowl on the Heavy Blade’s face, and that simply made his less inclined to ask the man the questions he had. However, he had to know- he had to be certain about the whole comatose thing. Baron drew close to Zan and spoke quietly, loud enough for Zan to hear, but not for anyone else.

"So, Zan... is it true that Sekai's... well... really comatose in the real world?"

Zan, looking like having this conversation was the last thing on his mind, gave a brief nod of his head. "It is."

"But, um... then how is she here, with us? If she's comatose, how can she control her character and such?"

As the Heavy Blade spoke, it was as if he was talking about the weather; casual and matter-of-fact. "Her mind's trapped within the game. It happens on one of these Eventide quests."

"But... how can a mind be trapped in an online game? That makes no sense. Thoughts are transferred as electrical impulses in the brain, and if her physical body is comatose in the real world and not attached to a game, how is it possible? I just can't believe something like that can really happen."

Zan laughed. "The wonders of Twilight. It's a virus present in every ounce of data within the game. It's in you. Right now. When someone's levels of Twilight become really high, become imbalanced, it'll usually result in a coma victim with their minds trapped. How it works? I really don't know. I don't think Twilight will ever be something fully understood."

Baron disengaged from Zan at the point, falling back a few paces and musing over the information he had gained. So… it was all true, then. Sekai was comatose in the real world, her body lying in a hospital bed or some such thing somewhere. Her mind had been separated from that body, trapped within the game, and now resided within the girl’s PC data. The thought that she could actually feel what happened made him worry. He wondered if that was why she seemed to be somewhat frail at times (aside from that last flashmail that she had sent). If she could feel every blow, every injury upon her… Baron had to shudder. If he ever became trapped in the game, the Twin Blade knew that he would do all in his power to avoid injury. In real life, he had a low pain tolerance because of his somewhat weak body, and while Sekai might not have the same affliction, being hurt by monsters with a high physical attack power or a powerful spell would still be incredibly painful.

Looking back a bit and to the side, Baron’s gaze caught Sekai, staying at one flank with her bow drawn and an arrow nocked to the string. He felt bad for doubting her earlier, but even if he was to apologize, now would be a bad time. Everyone was tense, watching for a hidden danger, so Baron couldn’t afford to distract anyone. Another attack, possibly like the “Desperation,” could come from any direction, and one hole in their defenses would be dangerous- especially if Saol and his army came back. Baron shuddered at the thought of the Wild Hunt returning. They had only been driven off with the help of the Nimirja, and now that the giant felines were gone, even if temporarily, the army of monsters was a very real threat, and the Twin Blade didn’t relish the idea of another large-scale fight.

A sound caused Baron to jump and grip his blades tightly. However, it was only Zan, returning from a foray a short distance ahead. The Heavy Blade seemed more grim than usual and he quickly approached Sidhe and started speaking. Baron approached behind him, wanting to know what was going on as well. Quietly, he listened as Zan explained that he had found something ahead, but had not gone into detail. Curious, Baron slipped ahead of the group, running lightly to see what was happening. It obviously wasn’t dangerous, since Zan hadn’t been injured and hadn’t come back in a hurry, so the Twin Blade had no fear of running into something that could be potentially painful.

As he arrived in the new clearing, though, Baron realized that he was wrong. What wasn’t painful physically was still painful to behold. A large tree- well, huge was a better word, really, and that didn’t even accommodate the massive tree. It stretched out limbs thicker than two people standing side by side, shading a large portion of the forest floor. A large green glyph shone on the side of the tree, glowing with a sickly glow that reminded Baron of disease and rot. Zan had mentioned that it could be one of the five places on the field that the Nimirja had mentioned- the five places that could cripple Saol and his army, making him possible to defeat. If that was the case, then Baron didn’t see why Zan was so grim… until he noticed the smoke and the burning mass before the tree. That was where the mental and emotional wounds kicked in.

Before the tree, a pile of what at first corpses- though they were soon discovered to clearly be living- burning eternally and wreathed in orange flames tried desperately to crawl atop someone, as if climbing to the top would save them from the fire. Baron wondered why they didn’t crawl away from each other, tried to escape and put out the fire. He watched for a few morbid seconds before running forward himself and trying to pull one from the pile. The flames flared up, burning his character though no marks were left, and a good chunk of his SP was burnt away. Backing up again, Baron tried to cast his GiRue Kruz spell, taking a good portion of his remaining SP to cast. The ice slammed into the flame-soaked bodies, but to no avail, simply melting without any effect on the flames. The corpse-like figures continued to wail in extended agony, and Baron could take no more, backing up a distance and closing his eyes, willing it away. He opened them again to see a Rue Rom flying over the bodies as Takua tried a tactic similar to Baron’s. For a brief moment, hope leapt up in the Twin Blade, thinking that Takua’s higher magical power would be enough to douse the flames. Unfortunately, he was disappointed, and the flames remained bright as ever when the spell ended. Sighing, and trying not to look, Baron approached the rest of the group, who had filed into the clearing.

However, they were all looking at a point past the burning pile of… people, AIs? What were they? Anyway, they were looking past them, and towards another equally gruesome sight. Baron immediately wanted to be sick and removed his VR headset in the real world for a brief moment, breathing quickly and trying to calm his flip-flopping stomach. Who… who would be so cruel as to do that? It was so insane, so wrong- none of it made any rational sense, and Locke considered once more, and with all seriousness, about simply shutting off his computer and pretending that he had never been there. However, the thought was discarded after a moment of thought. Locke, or Baron, in the game, had made a promise that he would help the Eventide Crescendo. There was no way that he was simply going to let them all down- especially Sekai. While she was comatose, she could be hurt, could actually feel and smell what was going on- it had to be so much worse for her- and Nemera too. How many of the others were comatose? Zan? Takua? Centrus?

No. Locke wasn’t going to wait until they got hurt for real to find out. He was going back in there, where he was safer then they were, being outside of the game. His character couldn’t feel pain, and therefore could take the more powerful assaults without being actually hurt in the real world. The others, though, those that were comatose- they could feel every injury, every broken bone and bloody gash. Locke had to wonder what happened when they were ghosted. Did they actually feel it, or was it more of a numbness? Could a person actually die, being trapped in the game? Could their minds be forever severed from the body and never return? Locke shuddered, and quickly put his VR headset back over his eyes. No, that was not going to happen.

Everyone had started to move again by the time Baron reanimated, some heading into the tree while a few others remained behind with Nemera. The Twin Blade decided to go explore the tree himself, since it seemed there wasn’t anything else he could do outside- especially if Sidhe was so insistent on protecting Nemera himself. So Baron headed inward immediately, hoping to see what was so special about this tree and what would let the Eventide Crescendo defeat Saol and his Wild Hunt.

A large entryway greeted Baron as he entered the tree, and it lead to an open room. Three small entryways were carved into the walls, almost like miniature doors. They were small though… too small for a regular adult. Baron could fit easily, being of a more lithe build even if he was a bit tall, at about six feet even. Each doorway had a small, almost child-sized ladder leading up to it. The Twin Blade had to wonder if this was a play area or a child’s hideout, perhaps. It didn’t seem like it was made for adults, but of course Baron hadn’t also seen the depths of it yet, either. He watched Takua head left, and not far behind him Kira, while Shenmock, and later Sekai went down the middle one. The right one hadn’t been visited yet, though, and that was fair game for Baron. It was time to do a bit of exploring.

Climbing up the ladder nimbly, without much trouble at all, Baron quickly slid into the smaller doorway, crouching slightly as he moved through. The hallway quickly led to a room, one that was large enough for the Twin Blade to stand upright in. The room was almost dome-shaped, with a curved ceiling. The entire room was an odd tint, almost the color of old rust. Hanging from the walls on various places were half-finished blankets and such, some hanging from their loom still, while a few completed ones lay on the ground, folded neatly and undisturbed. They didn’t seem to be important, so Baron moved on, quickly and quietly. Another such room loomed at the end of the next crawlspace, and this one had an actual completed tapestry on the wall, made to look almost like an image of the tree, Juk symbol and all, though this one was a bright, life-filled green instead of the sickly poison color before. Baron took a moment to admire the craftsmanship, even in a game, and then continued on.

Several other rooms like the first two greeted the Twin Blade as he moved on, and as he continued going through the walkways, he realized that they were sloped upwards, and that he had moved a good way up the tree so far. Baron wondered how far he had gone, but quickly shook off the thought and continued on through the tunnel, wondering how far up they went. If they led to the top of the tree, it was possible that something else was up there, possibly the key to weakening Saol and his army. If that was the case, Baron could finally be of some help to the rest. That was some small comfort. With renewed vigor, he practically ran along the pathways until he reached a room a good distance of the way up.

The room was like the others, half-finished weavings and a few complete ones strewn across the room. However, in this room, a single figure sat perched atop a rocking chair, a young woman with a loom before her, trying to weave a half-finished tapestry. Blood ran freely from cuts in her fingers, staining the loom and the cloth upon it. She was rocking back and forth with an almost terrified expression on her face, and she tried in vain to complete the weaving on her lap. Her eyes were frantic, almost bloodshot, and she kept mumbling to herself. Baron drew close, and tried to hear, but he didn’t want to get too near, lest this woman turn out to be some sort of monster. The Twin Blade finally got close enough to hear what she was saying, and while it wasn’t threatening or anything, it still sent shivers up his spine.

“Have to finish, have to finish…”

Stepping back, Baron decided that this woman couldn’t be a monster, regardless of the appearance, since she looked a lot like the people burning outside. The memory sent a brief wash of nausea over the Twin Blade, but he choked it back and caught himself. It was only a game, after all, no matter how realistic. However, the woman in front of him was of immediate interest, and it behooved Baron to help how he could. Perhaps a healing spell would do the trick? He cast a quick La Repth spell (having accidentally sold his Ice Hunter Cap in his last transaction, he didn’t have Repth) on the woman in the rocking chair, praying that it did something to help her out. The healing light flared about her, but nothing actually happened. The woman kept mumbling to herself with the same blank expression.

Sighing, Baron opened up a quick Flashmail, hoping that someone else had an idea. The woman might know how to weaken Saol and his army.

Immediately, he got Sekai’s Flashmail and read it over, realizing that she had found something as well. Obviously, there was more to this place than met the eye. Still, Baron stayed near the woman, since she seemed to be one of the only ones left alive in the entire place. There was that crying that Sekai had heard, but Baron wasn’t sure exactly what that indicated. It wasn’t necessary a person, but it was a chance possibility. However, he wasn’t going to leave what could possibly be a possibly important person who could reveal everything that the group needed to know. So, instead, he sat in one of the nearby chairs and waited for someone to respond to his Flashmail. Perhaps someone could help. In the meantime, though… he had one thing that he needed to do.

And that was it.

There was silence. Dead silence. There was only the rustle of the trees, the leaves that flew past as a bit of a breeze picked up, and the breaths that he took. He leaned forward and looked towards the area where he had thought he smelled something. Well, he didn’t smell anything really. He just thought that someone else had smelled something, hence everyone acting a bit weirder. The Swath, eh? It sounded more like an army of moths to him, but was it even an army? If the Nimirja were so afraid of it and yet they were an army that could decapitate dozens of monsters at once with their army. He knew they were useless now, but…they lived in this field and if so, he would’ve thought that they had been powerful enough to take on the enemies. He didn’t know what to think now. Everyone was taking out their weapons, whether it was a blade, two daggers, or a spear. He pulled out his River Spear and stood straight up again. He stabbed his spear into the grass and leaned on it, still staring out into the forest. He still couldn’t see anything. He was shaking a bit at this point. The tension was rising enough that he was at a loss of what to do with him. James, in real life, was nervous as to what was happening at the moment. His palms were a bit sweaty, having held the controller a little too hard. He was confused as to what to do. It was like he was going insane. He tried to control himself from just gating out of the area, but knew it’d cost him if the Knights of War got to him. He took a deep breath…and waited. This was torture for him with being impatient all his life.

He heard something that broke the silence. It seemed they had a visitor. He turned the second he heard a movement. He wanted something to keep his mind off “The Swath”. When he turned, he saw a blur of silver as Nemera’s blade came upraised and at the neck of a young man. He looked like a regular person, but he didn’t know why she stopped her blade the second she saw the man. He stared at the scene that played out before him. He was one of the people that couldn’t make it. It was one of the people that posted that he couldn’t come. If he wasn’t mistaken, it was Centrus. He was a Fist Fighter, and if he wasn’t mistaken, he looked like he’d even the odds a bit in this fight. Or maybe he’d just help them a bit…but they’d still the usual ten to one odds. The conversation played out and Nemera seemed a bit angry that he had come in late. He had left for a while, then had come back, and yet she wasn’t happy about it? He would’ve been glad to help one of the people who was coming back to help. Maybe it was surprise that got to her, then a bit of anger. Maybe she was happy, but didn’t show it to the group because she was the leader. He didn’t exactly know…but she left him in the open to come with them. That was a good thing. He forced a smile at the man, then turned back to the area he had previously looked at.

There was nothing.

Then…he felt something. It just plopped on his shoulder, but he knew it was there. He thought it was just some kind of harmless thing from the tree, but once it squirmed, he went nuts. He jumped for a moment and slammed it with his palm. He calmed down a bit, but felt another plop on his shoulder. Another plop and another followed up. His eyes widened as he saw them falling from the trees. He started slapping around his whole body, trying to get the little maggots off of him, but they just replaced each other. He was forced to do what everyone else did and take some cover, then deal with the rest of them. He slapped another one off them and watched it fall to the ground. That was the last of them. He heaved a sigh and stared as they fell to the ground. If they crawled towards them, he swore he’d give them the worst death they would have in their life. Well, probably not the worst, but it’d be enough to destroy a good fifty or more of them. He looked out at the others, then looked up. The pale moon shone with great light at that moment…it seemed different from when it first became dark. He stared at it. The Swath wasn’t something. He knew that much now. If it was something, it would’ve come by now. Maybe the Swath wasn’t a thing. Maybe it was some kind of…well, he didn’t exactly know what to think about. The field had changed a bit. The moon seemed to cast a bit more light on them…or was that just his imagination. He ignored it and continued to look off into the distance. Where had that guy with the armor gone to anyways? It was not a question to be thinking about at this time, but seriously, where was he? He would’ve thought he’d stay to fight a bit more, due that he was someone who was extremely powerful.

There was a bit of silence for a moment, before Nemera started giving them reassurance. Was that really something that he could care about right now? If she gave them reassurance, something bad was going to happen. That made him even more uncomfortable about this situation. He sat down and hugged himself, trying to stay calm and not do anything else. He heard a faint sound in the distance. He got up immediately and took out his River Spear. He prepared it, hoping that there wasn’t an army coming. He heard shuffling out in the woods. After hearing it for a little while, he relaxed a while. If it was something that big, then they’d surely be able to handle it. With that amount of people, they’d be able to completely obliterate someone trying to oppose them or a stray monster looking for prey. What he saw next took him completely by surprise, though. It wasn’t a monster. Well, it was, in a way. Once it came out, he recognized instantly that it didn’t have arms for one thing. It was gray, giving him the feeling that it was a corpse or zombie…and all it had was a torso on. It stumbled forward, looking like it had lost its way. It seemed that it had lost something and was looking for it. It didn’t seem to notice them for a moment. He almost felt sadness for the thing…and yet it was a monster created to destroy.

Nemera broke the silence, a bit surprised at the sight of the monster. Everyone seemed surprised by the thing. It had a jumbled up name. He probably thought it was a corrupted. It had no HP meter…and nothing came up at all in terms of some kind of weakness and strength. All he knew was that it was dangerous. He looked at Nemera, then looked back at the monster. He took a few steps back as he saw something open up where its mouth should’ve been. Red liquid, or whatever it was that was being shot out, shot forward and pierced Nemera. He heard a cry of pain and was tempted to charge forward and attack, but knew it’d be useless. She fell back, but someone caught her. It didn’t look like a major injury…but he was sure it had some kind of status ailment. Maybe poison, being paralyzed, or charm? He wasn’t exactly sure what, but she was up and back moving after someone helped her. She charged at the monster and with four swings, it looked like she had finished it off. He stared in awe at the little strength it had taken to slam the thing to the ground. But it was still alive…

He thought he saw something rush forward and push the monster back, but was unsure of what actually happened. The monster stood there, then some kind of energy pushed it back by Nemera. He ignored the thought and looked down at the monster. It was down and it was getting up. But…of course, the monster didn’t fade away like it was supposed to. He stared at the monster. There was no use doing anything now. If Nemera couldn’t kill it, he had no chance against it. He stared at the monster in horror at the body, then looked at Nemera, and tried not to stare in horror at what was happening. That red stuff that had hit her…why was it doing that to her? Numerous splinters and such spread across her face where it had hit her and in a moment, she fell back. Baron and Centrus rushed and held her up. He could only stare at the things that had just taken place. First, red stuff hit her. Second, the monster wouldn’t dematerialize and freaking die. Third, blisters were spreading over her face and she was losing consciousness. That was something that was not exciting, and for one thing, it was extremely bad. She looked half-awake right now. That was pretty bad. Hopefully she’d be okay. But that wasn’t something he should be thinking about. When this happened in a game, it was definitely not okay.

"Alright, we have to move. As much as I'd like to stay here and wait for the Swath to pass, that's no longer an option. Whoever wants to be a moron and stay behind, go ahead, but those who want to make it for a few more hours need to come with me. Now."

Shenmock got up, grabbed his spear, and moved forward. He wasn’t going to hesitate to start moving around in this place. Sidhe pushed Baron aside and came to Nemera’s side. Zan, meanwhile, was trying to move ahead and get everyone in a group. It was a good idea. They didn’t want to stay in one place. If they wanted to stay alive, they were going to have to move as Sidhe said. He moved to the rear of the group. The back wasn’t his place. He was one of the lower levels here, so he didn’t plan to do anything stupid like put himself in front. He’d be the first one to be chomped on if a monster came. His spear was out and ready for anything that came. Centrus and Sidhe carried Nemera to the middle. It seemed they had a good formation going. They slowly started forward. He kept a look out, his eyes darting back and forth. He only heard the rustle of leaves and the trees seeming to moan in the pale moonlight. It was silent, except for the quick breaths that Shenmock took and the two helping Nemera. He didn’t see anything. No one saw anything. It was just…blank. He looked over to the right again, trying to spot anything. Well, he didn’t want to spot anything, but he wanted to know what it was before it attacked. Doing that was pointless…because nothing came. Nothing. Plain and simple.

They came up and Shenmock that he saw something in the distance. He didn’t want to see it one bit, but he saw it. It was clear that there was something going on ahead. He saw ahead that there were three bridges. Each looked okay at first, but his eyes continued only to see that some were cracking, others broken in many parts at the end. Then, quite close to the tree lay bodies. A pile of bodies that went up high. There was a fire that clutched them…they were all screaming to make the pain stop. His stomach lurched. He wanted so much to use one of his Rue spells to get them out of it, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know what to do right now. Everyone seemed to be shocked by the sight. Sidhe came out and saw it. Someone was there. There was someone there. He shuddered at the sight of it. It was that Saol guy. He frowned and gripped his spear tighter. If it was this guy doing it, then it was kind of obvious. This guy was trying to make them get desperate enough to make a bad deal with him. Maybe that was it…

Shenmock took a step forward with his left foot and prepared his spear for battle just in case he had something backing him up. There was the tree behind him…and the three bridges. He had a speech to tell them. It wasn’t pretty at all. He stood there, staring at him as he spoke. This guy was crazy. Or maybe it was the truth. He’d just have to find out in this place, whatever the place was.

"Given to those who'd resist, a memorial of punishment both without and within your great 'Axis Mundis.' Jula has offered you a place in her ranks, spawnlings of her treasured element as you are, and yet you spat at it. For those few that remain, spread out and desolate, return to the Mundis to remember the classic futility of resistance. I, Saol, am the new overseer of this domain in conjunction with the Higher of Juka. The time for Vagrant AIs here as rulers is at an end. Lay down your feeble twigs or bathe in the blood of your mistakes."

Twigs? That guy carried two swords. They had almost every class with them and were all pretty powerful. If he thought that they were just stupid kids looking for a fight, he was wrong. He knew most of them were not exactly with them, but it didn’t exactly matter at that moment. He’d have time to think about that later. He gripped his spear tighter, tempted to charge forward and attack with the others, but found a few of the others running towards the tree behind the bodies. There were three bridges. He saw that Takua went down the left and Sekai went down the middle. No one had gone right yet. He chose in his mind. Someone else would handle right. He wanted to go into the center for a change. He opened his eyes and sprinted past the rest of the group and down the middle bridge. He heard the burning behind him and the screaming people who had to endure the torture. He closed his eyes for a moment, a single tear trickling down his right cheek. He just hoped they wouldn’t have to endure it forever. He ran forward down the cracked bridge after Sekai. He saw that she was already in the tree. He didn’t really want to stay alone for anything, so he tried to pick up the pace. He knew he couldn’t. It was just a game, so he couldn’t. He jumped over a part of the bridge that had collapsed and sprinted into the tree. He slid to a halt there.

There was no path at all. He came into a room with a single ladder going up. He stared up at the ceiling, not being able to make out the top. His eyes grew wide. He hated climbing and heights. Perfect. Without waiting, he ran towards the ladder, grabbed a handle, and pulled himself up. He saw that Sekai was already climbing up without hesitation. He slowly made his ascent up to the room. He kept wanting to look down at the floor to see how far he had come, but didn’t care. His hands were sweating and he thought he might’ve fallen if he hadn’t thought about the things that were at stake here. He looked up again to see there was still a long ways to go. He kept climbing, noticing the numerous designs and various clothes that were all over the walls. He forced a smile at the beauty of them, but kept going on his ascent. He stared up and saw that he was almost there. Well, there was still a lot left, but he noticed that Sekai wasn’t climbing any more. He made a reach for the next bar and grabbed it. For a second, it was there, but then it slipped while his other hand was still trying to grasp the next bar. He didn’t know what was happening until he lost balance and started falling. In a split second, he grabbed the bar behind his head. He was in a strange position at that moment. His feet were trying to hold onto the bar, almost stuck in their position. He was just about upside down. He pushed his feet forward, trying to push off the wall to get through, but they wouldn’t budge. For a moment. They flew back and he almost slipped if he hadn’t grabbed the bar that held the ladder together. He gave a quick sigh of relief before continuing his ascent up to the top room. He came up the ladder and rolled onto the ground from where he was. He looked up to see the room he had been climbing up to this whole time.

The room seemed had a weird feeling to it. There was a low moaning going on. It was probably a woman’s moan. It slightly crept him out. He saw Sekai up in the front, looking at a spot that seemed to stand out. There were weapons all around him. They were quite bland, really. There were weapons of all classes, but most were dirty and looked like they’d break when somebody used it. He frowned at his surroundings and moved onward to where Sekai was. He saw that she was writing something down on the wall. Once she lifted her hand up, he instantly saw that it was a poem. Once she finished, she stood back a bit. He stared at it for a moment. He looked around. Talal was here too. He didn’t exactly understand what was happening here, but he knew it wasn’t going to be pretty.

Like always.

-GM-

Small fingers blurred across the keyboard.

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

Sidhe, careful of scraping her form up against the bark, maneuvered Nemera to lie on a clear patch of trunk. If the center hub of the elfish activity was this tree, this Axis Mundis, it made a little sense - if only in an indirect kind of way - why it was less hacked and oozing than the rest. So far, the Swath seemed to operate in a fashion that was as symbolic as it was literal...or, really, a cocktail of both. Simply standing there over the fallen Heavy Blade like a gargoyle on an old building, the active leader of the Eventide Crescendo felt a ping of uselessness. Most of the group had weeded their way into the hollows of the great log which, in turn, meant they were facing all of the potential danger. Most of them he trusted to handle themselves, but the fact that the leader - the leader - wasn't moving to join them seemed wrong somehow. Off somehow. Still...he didn't want to leave her alone with just one person, even if it was Centrus, and he certainly didn't trust anyone else in the group to take his place. Nemera was like a sister to him, like family, and such was a group that kicked his protective instincts into overdrive. Sekai's first Flashmail served as a little distraction from the topic, something he hoped hinted at her success in finding what they needed, but the second had him again staring at the crimson-eyed woman with new regard. The Archer was smart. And right. If Nemera woke to the blaze, there wasn't a doubt in his mind that she'd relive the moment with Tiral atop the tower in the Vak Prison Field. The sapphire Long Arm would look for the slightest sign of her stirring and aptly move her. For now, though, he let her rest.

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

Those that had collected in the center room watched with bated tension as the wall, previously scribed with some sort of riddle, dissolved pixel by pixel in fluttering flicks of orange-red like Dread Code embers (though few would recognize it as such). Should those embers touch their flesh, real - but fleeting - burns would be felt in the real world in that same spot, undoubtedly something to stir confusion for some and fight the cobwebs of doubt for others. Little by little, until at last the portion of the wall had completely vanished, the Eventides began to realize they were looking at a statue. Shaped like a single Wildling and Wildwing, the oversized hound's mouth and mutated bird's claws (the creatures constructed of some kind of limestone) both wrapped around the same orb-like object. Holding the proportion of a large marble - the kind often used in games to flick around the smaller ones - the object held an almost syrup-like brown hue. The whole piece of...was it art?...rested in what seemed like an empty void of black space. There was no sound from it, no sight aside from the obvious, and for those who could feel...the breeze that blew from it was like ice. No, more accurately, dry ice; wherever it made contact, the barest of burns would whisper along flesh. Surprising Zan and Takua, the latter having made his way to the room with the others, Sekai was the one to first brave potential retaliation, steeling herself for it as small fingers curled around the ball...and snatched it up.

Sekai watched, frozen in time in the 'The World' around her, as her memory was gripped by foreign images. A young woman, someone Baron would have realized was the female from his path on the tree had he touched the orb, was shifting nervously in the open night of the field. It was cool, serene, and obviously untainted by the perversion of the Swath. That was to say, the physical perversion. There was still an air of unease that couldn't be denied, a weight of guilt on the Archer's heart that didn't belong to her. No more than ten seconds passed before Saol, without Gaea beneath him, moved with an almost alien grace to stand before her. Sekai expected an attack, expected some kind of falling blade, but received only a brighter flare of the man's inhuman eyes. The conversation that proceeded hurt to hear, hurt both the Archer and the individual's heart she was sharing, and spelled out the reason for the fall of the people within the Axis Mundis. Promised safety from Jula's wrath, promised shelter and sustenance from the hell she knew was coming, she had given Saol her word that she'd turn the Mundis's 'security system' inside out. The quilts that the people, the Juka Sprites as they simply referred to themselves as, wove were interspersed with deep, deep green magic that would make Krake proud - and did. Not even Jula, to her amazed frustration, could break through their wards, not without greatly weakening her power. So it was up to this woman, the Judus of the Sprites, to work her nails to the bone and replace every inch of cloth with one tainted with malleable Dread Code.

It was to be completed within three month's time. Should she fail, should she falter in finishing, she'd be amongst the slaughtered...if only eventually. And Jula, being who she was, would make it last.

For a second, for everyone but Sekai (whom was only then stirring from the invasion of her mind) there was absolutely nothing, almost everyone's breath held in anticipation.

As one could expect, however, that soon ended. Like the grainy grind of chewed rock candy, cracks began to crawl along the statue's surface in spastic, random bursts. They radiated, to all, a faint heat from the orange-red pulse within, something that immediately had Takua shooing the others further and further away. They had to get away, had to get out, had to run. In his stomach, though, the Wavemaster knew it was too late. The light the cracks were giving off was growing brighter by the second and, even as Talal was hustled to be the first down, there just wouldn't be time to escape it. Takua was stubborn on keeping them hopeful in what he feared were some of their final seconds as free minds in the real world. Like a flashbang, what started the signature orange-red became white and hot...and still, fumbling blindly, he pushed at the others to go. And then, as if it had always been that way, it stopped. Blinking away the spots in his eyes, Takua and the others would turn to find the rusty tint of the tree - and the whole field for that matter - had simply vanished. Replacing it was what one could only call normality; normal shades of brown, of green for the jewels in the Wavemaster-like staves, and something even as wonderful as normal smells. Well, to Takua and most of the others, normal smells became 'not smelling at all', but for Zan and Sekai...it smelled close to paradise once more. It smelled like it must have before the Highers wrapped their twisted, dirty fingers around its proverbial throat.

Sekai, suddenly inspired by the realization that they were back, that the Nimirja must be back, began a rush down the ladder, the seemingly fragile girl somehow managing not to twist an ankle or simply go tumbling down the cylindrical funnel like Alice down the rabbit hole. Zan stayed behind, however, with a concerned furrow mingling with a stare at the left wall. A few of the curious stayed behind, wondering what he sensed that they did not, while some followed the Archer's lead. The lycanthrope, nostrils filled with the lingering promise of rot that his sensitive nose carried on from the previous 'field' and a sound akin to buzzing, approached the portion of the wall - one that had previously contained crying - with a cautious brush of the occupying weapons aside. They tumbled with semi-hollow thumps, but did little to distract him as strong fingers probed the wall for something not immediately obvious to the others. It was chance, and nothing but, that finally tossed a little their way (though, in a few seconds, the werewolf would find himself wondering if it was luck or misfortune) when his fingers sunk into an invisible catch and the doorway began to sink into an empty dig in the floor. Those that had stayed, the nearer they got, began to hear the hum of something and the second the door opened...they knew why. Like a startled colony of rats, a plague-ridden horde of flies dispersed (some fleeing, some retracting) to reveal the withered, decayed forms of a woman in some sort of hidden closet...holding her little girl (was it a girl...and was the adult body even a woman? the state of entropy made it hard to tell) in a frightened hush with her hand over her mouth even in death.

Zan, his face absolutely blank, turned the group with a tone in his voice that more or less said 'do what I ask or I will dent your face.' "No one. Say. Anything. Especially to Sekai. Let them have some shreds of peace...if any can even be left after what's outside."

One by one, with the Lycan the last, they descended the long path down in relative silence, each immersed in their own pool of thought. Already, in such a short time, the field was beginning to take its toll. The Swath had chewed and spit out whatever misconceptions they may have held about the place, leaving some - if not most - shaken and, perhaps, angry. The only thing to offer even the barest amount of calm was the open forest they stepped out to when they exited the so-called Axis Mundis. There was no blood on the ground, no wounds or faces in the trunks, and the sun is what blazed brightly above through what gaps it could find in the leaf-decorated branches. Bugs, in various tones, filled the air with noise, mixing in with the occasional birdsong to bring an initial feeling of relief. If only temporarily, they were back in a place of sanity. They rounded the tree, some eagerly, in search of Sidhe and the cavalry that had arrived to help them fend off the Wild Hunt. The Nimirja, still, were nowhere to be found. The child's head, still on the pike, wasn't saying anything...but there was a note stabbed to its head with a rusted knife, a note that read off exactly what it had been saying. The pyre, too, was gone, replaced by a large hill of ash instead. When the first few spotted Sekai and Sidhe, there was an air of...disarray. Why were they standing so still, being so quiet? What was that tension in their shoulders? Answers were given not heartbeats later when, continuing the approaching circle, a single Flayer was seen hovering before them. It was clear to any with any tactical background or knowledge why the magical creature was alone, why it seemed so...enticed by the two in the way its fingers sliced at seemingly nothing in the air at its sides; it was a scout.

It seemed to be pondering fighting them before it called for help, or perhaps during, but the presence of the rest of the Eventides caused a panicked backup and the barest of inhalations. In that moment, everyone knew they were, well, fucked. It would sound out its scream, call the others to its sides, and the legion battle would begin again. Why the Wildwings/lings weren't being used, better scouts as they were (or even those Will O' Wisps), was a question for another time. Even Zan, despite tensed to pounce, knew he couldn't get to it in time. The breath group deeper, the Flayer's chest inflating...and sudden hiss of an arrow caught it in the face, popping it into random bursts of green code. All eyes fell to Sekai who, looking as stunned, rapidly shook her head this way and that in blatant signal that it hadn't been her. Logic came next, eyes following its trajectory path to fall upon the grinning face of a beautiful stranger. Green boots, leading up just above her knees, complimented the elongated jade material that hung centered down her legs from her waist and down her back but still leaving the sides of her thighs bare, as gloves on her hands, mixed with black as the bands on her arms, a wrap around her forehead, and the assortment that covered up a fair-sized chest. Her black hair went down just past her shoulders, a black that fit the semi-present tan of her flesh. The bow she had used was lowered as she casually made her way towards them, not seeming to mind the immediate apprehension in their stances. It was Sidhe she stood before.

"I'm Alana, Progeny of Juk. Through me, Mikal sends his thanks for saving our three comrades in the last field. I..." Her grin faltered, if only a little. "I was Jula's right-hand before the revolt, so I have some knowledge of this place. I Flashmailed your co-worker, Gyl, and he's gotten me up to speed. If we're to find the other four Ganz Orbs, we'll have to hurry." Everyone still seemed to be adjusting to her presence, to what she had just done, but she went on just the same. "So if you have questions for me, and you undoubtedly do, please make them quick."

It was a bit much to take in all at once, but she seemed content to wait there in the silence as they did just that. Still, they all knew what she said had been true.

They needed to move on...and soon.

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

((OOC:

And there we are. This round is a special round, one not to be expected. I realize there isn't actually much to go off of, but that was more or less on purpose. No one is obligated to post this round. There will be no penalty for missing it. This round is to serve as a sort of questionnaire, like with Raquar, and those who do ask questions need only post the scripting involve. Obviously, I'd like an actual, full post from everyone, but with Brawl out and such...I'm willing to give this grace week.

For those who need a better image of Alana, here. That's not her exactly, obviously, but it's the closest you'll get. She looks a lot more Caucasian, unlike the semi-Native-American look of Jade, and lacks the hair things, but you get the idea.

Anywho...enjoy your gaming!

:OOC))