Semideus Rex (IC)

[Starkindler]

He grinned as she handed him the card, which he promptly memorized and placed in his pocket. "So, what race of centaur are you specifically? There are many different types, just like there are horses."He said, popping a few more pieces of fish into his mouth, smiling happily. The fish was utterly massive, just, huge. He noted the blush and wondered if she noticed he wa-"I'm gay."He said simply, staring at her for a moment before just grinning, obviously trying not to laugh. "So-sorry, anxiety. I laugh when I'm nervous."He said, giving a blush.

She gasped slightly as he crammed her card into his pocket, however she knew she was not Zipangese. Judging from the ccTLD of his e-mail addresses and the country code of his phone number, he was Rossiyan. Or one of her dependencies, or colonies whatsoever. She also noticed that she was almost finished with her food, using the bread to clear out the salad dressing from the bowl.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Syler-san, but centaur races are more like human races than horse breeds. As centaurs were sentient, and with the exception of slavery in ancient times, we weren't subject to husbandry as horses were. I thik you were guessing about my barrel, and phenotypically, it's closest to the Zipangese Kisu..." - she blushed realizing she had seen the word for 'kiss' - "... I mean Kiso. But taller than that, Kisos were 13 hands high, I'm 15."

Then she blushed again as he put a large piece of fish in his mouth. She remembered such scenes from her not-so-innocent pieces of manga. Of course it wasn't fish there. Then he outed himself as gay. And why it's important? - her expression could read, herself being tolerant with gays, as she herself is bi. She sighed.

"I know, Syler. You were too cute to be true. Tell me, why are you guys either jerks or gay or trans? But however, please tell me that we can still be friends." - she smiled at him, looking in his eyes.

[Rupudska]

At the time stated upon the pamphlets, more or less all of the characters had gathered around the Mount of Olives to witness the display of the cult. They were not alone - Besides the cultists themselves (And a few MMPs* of the Palestinian Wing of the Ottoman Army), there were a large number of spectators. There were also several important-looking cultists on a raised platform, the most important of which was in the middle, walking around and waving his arms in an almost comedic fashion, amplified by his brownish-black beard, which was long enough that he could have been mistaken for a member of ZZ Top if he so desired. Counteracting the comedy of the situation was the speech he was giving at the time, referring to the cultists as 'brothers in arms', and those not members as 'our misguided brothers', and those who flatly rejected the cult as the 'damned fools' or 'scum of the Earth' and 'insults to Npthoket.' His manner of speaking was identical to the pamphlet's. He was probably the leader.

Violet herself was a ways away from the main crowd, opting to view the spectacle from a nearby hill, which was sufficiently uncrowded that she could sit down. She, like a few others, was quite unnerved by the man, and the cult. There was something seriously wrong about it, but she couldn't figure out what it was, or why it felt so wrong.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

At the time of the meeting, Yareth arrived at the Mount of Olives to witness the meeting of the strange cult that advertised their activities with pamphlets with wording that addressed the reader so... Violently. He had arrived on foot, judging that he should probably try stretching his legs once in a while instead of using his gifts to travel from place to place in the form of a creature of nature. The heat and the crowds had been bothersome for him, but not overly so, and he put up with it rather well.

Upon arriving, the young Tlaztecan noticed that there was quite a crowd gathered around the meeting. From his place at the very back of said crowd, he could spot in the distance a raised platform with cultists of apparent privileged positions on it, but he couldn't see or hear much more, so instead of remaining there he chose to head to a nearby hill instead, so that he could better hear and see the show. And so he made his way there.

Upon arriving, he sat down and devoted his attention to the meeting. There was the leader, comical as he looked, spewing words of ruthless zeal and anger and hate towards those who they considered infidels. The way the man spoke sent a shiver down his spine, one he hoped he had managed to conceal well. He was very unnerving indeed.

"This man's spirit is... Troubling..." He mumbled to himself, though loud enough so that those around him could hear.

[Neo Arcad]

Taken aback by this revelation, Astrid was at a loss for words. "That's... no, that's silly!" she exclaimed, after a moment. "I can't possibly be a... I mean, that's not real. I just have some kind of talent! That's it! I... I don't even know you, and you're saying these things like they're facts! I, I don't..." she insisted, turning away in disbelief as she trailed off. A few moments later, though, saw her turn back to Ysolgor. She spoke in an almost recalcitrant murmur. "I didn't meet either of my parents, really. My uncle raised me. He said he didn't know anything at all about my father, and that my mother was 'gone'. I just never really thought about it. But... if what you're saying is true, what does it mean?" she asked.

"Well f͜or͏ on҉è, ҉it͞ exp͏lain̛s͜ ̴h́ow̸ ͠y̶ou'͜re͞ ͟a̸b̷le͟ ͞to͝ vapor͜iz͏e͢ ̴th̢i͢ng͘s̸ w͡it̸h͏ ̡en͘e҉rgy͝ ͟beąm̨s.̨ I̕t a̢lsó m̨a͡k̶es̨ you ̸c̴ǫn̷s̴i͠d͟e͠r̢ábl̶y ṕowe̶r͠fu͟l in ̀th͡e̵ mag̛įc̀àl ̕r͘e͠alm,̴ ma̛k͢es ͝y͠ǫù ̴res͘ist͡ant t̸o̕ ͡magic̢, an͘d ͢g͢ive̵s͜ ̸y͜o̸u a̴u͏toḿa͠t͘įc̢ àut̨ho͠r̴ity w̧i͟t͟h҉in t̨he͠ wo̡rs͝hi͝p̀e̵r̸s̶ ơf the panthe̶o͠n from ͢whíc̸h yo͠u d͜e͟scen͟d.̀ ̵Fo̡r éxa̷m͢ple, ín t͜h͝e gre̕at hid͏de̵n͡ cu̡lts ͝of th̴e ͠Gr͢e̡at̶ Ól͘d̨ ́Òn͏e͡s,̢ ͏I͡ a͟m҉ ́ơn҉e o͟f̛ t͠h͘e ͘lea͢d́inǵ f͜i̷gu͝re҉s̛ in͡ ̢th̛e̶ ͟r̵e͏lìgi̶o͟n ͝d̷u̸e͠ ͟t̵o̶ r̸e͞ce̢ivin̵ģ o͡r͜der͟s ̶fro̡m Ct͏ḩy͝ĺl͠a̡ ҉vi͘a ͜drea̧m̕s.̶"

While tightening the make-shift bandage, Ysgolor grumbled unhappily at a revelation on Astrid's birth

"Hr͏m͘ph͝. I͏t ͢a̛l͘so͏ ̴me̡a̡ns̵ yòu̧ ĺikel͞y̴ a͞ direct de̛scendan̷t ͟fro͏m ̕y҉óu͡r p̕a̶ŕe҉nt͡'̧s͘ pa̴n̨t͟heo̶n, wh̨ere͢a̛s̀ I̸'̸m sim̷ply ̴a re͝su͘rrec̛t̨e̛d scio͜n.̶"

Well for one, it explains how you're able to vaporize things with energy beams. It also makes you considerably powerful in the magical realm, makes you resistant to magic, and gives you automatic authority within the worshipers of the pantheon from which you descend. For example, in the great hidden cults of the Great Old Ones, I am one of the leading figures in the religion due to receiving orders from Cthylla via dreams.

Hrmph. It also means you likely a direct descendant from your parent's pantheon, whereas I'm simply a resurrected scion.

As they arrived at Mount Olive, which is apparently actually a place, Astrid still was having trouble absorbing the knowledge that she'd had revealed to her in the last few minutes. It wasn't unreasonable- anyone who'd just been told that they were actually the daughter or son of some god or other, with decent amounts of evidence to support that conclusion, would have some difficulty wrapping their head around the concept.

"So you're saying that my hereto unknown father... was a deity of some sort? My... talents... come from him? And there's some gang of cultists out there somewhere that want to revere me as a saint or a savior or something?" She paused, having summarized it. "I hope it's not these guys. There's something off about them..." Astrid trailed off, gesturing to the cultists assembled before them, as she noted a particular one's features, squinting in his direction to get a better look under the harsh Middle Eastern sun. "I think I recognize that one." she explained. "He looks an awful lot like the underling who paid me to bring him your book." Astrid looked around. "They probably won't recognize you, but they might notice me... we need to be careful."

[AETEN II]

"Well f͜or͏ on҉è, ҉it͞ exp͏lain̛s͜ ̴h́ow̸ ͠y̶ou'͜re͞ ͟a̸b̷le͟ ͞to͝ vapor͜iz͏e͢ ̴th̢i͢ng͘s̸ w͡it̸h͏ ̡en͘e҉rgy͝ ͟beąm̨s.̨ I̕t a̢lsó m̨a͡k̶es̨ you ̸c̴ǫn̷s̴i͠d͟e͠r̢ábl̶y ṕowe̶r͠fu͟l in ̀th͡e̵ mag̛įc̀àl ̕r͘e͠alm,̴ ma̛k͢es ͝y͠ǫù ̴res͘ist͡ant t̸o̕ ͡magic̢, an͘d ͢g͢ive̵s͜ ̸y͜o̸u a̴u͏toḿa͠t͘įc̢ àut̨ho͠r̴ity w̧i͟t͟h҉in t̨he͠ wo̡rs͝hi͝p̀e̵r̸s̶ ơf the panthe̶o͠n from ͢whíc̸h yo͠u d͜e͟scen͟d.̀ ̵Fo̡r éxa̷m͢ple, ín t͜h͝e gre̕at hid͏de̵n͡ cu̡lts ͝of th̴e ͠Gr͢e̡at̶ Ól͘d̨ ́Òn͏e͡s,̢ ͏I͡ a͟m҉ ́ơn҉e o͟f̛ t͠h͘e ͘lea͢d́inǵ f͜i̷gu͝re҉s̛ in͡ ̢th̛e̶ ͟r̵e͏lìgi̶o͟n ͝d̷u̸e͠ ͟t̵o̶ r̸e͞ce̢ivin̵ģ o͡r͜der͟s ̶fro̡m Ct͏ḩy͝ĺl͠a̡ ҉vi͘a ͜drea̧m̕s.̶"

While tightening the make-shift bandage, Ysgolor grumbled unhappily at a revelation on Astrid's birth

"Hr͏m͘ph͝. I͏t ͢a̛l͘so͏ ̴me̡a̡ns̵ yòu̧ ĺikel͞y̴ a͞ direct de̛scendan̷t ͟fro͏m ̕y҉óu͡r p̕a̶ŕe҉nt͡'̧s͘ pa̴n̨t͟heo̶n, wh̨ere͢a̛s̀ I̸'̸m sim̷ply ̴a re͝su͘rrec̛t̨e̛d scio͜n.̶"

Well for one, it explains how you're able to vaporize things with energy beams. It also makes you considerably powerful in the magical realm, makes you resistant to magic, and gives you automatic authority within the worshipers of the pantheon from which you descend. For example, in the great hidden cults of the Great Old Ones, I am one of the leading figures in the religion due to receiving orders from Cthylla via dreams.

Hrmph. It also means you likely a direct descendant from your parent's pantheon, whereas I'm simply a resurrected scion.

As they arrived at Mount Olive, which is apparently actually a place, Astrid still was having trouble absorbing the knowledge that she'd had revealed to her in the last few minutes. It wasn't unreasonable- anyone who'd just been told that they were actually the daughter or son of some god or other, with decent amounts of evidence to support that conclusion, would have some difficulty wrapping their head around the concept.

"So you're saying that my hereto unknown father... was a deity of some sort? My... talents... come from him? And there's some gang of cultists out there somewhere that want to revere me as a saint or a savior or something?" She paused, having summarized it. "I hope it's not these guys. There's something off about them..." Astrid trailed off, gesturing to the cultists assembled before them, as she noted a particular one's features, squinting in his direction to get a better look under the harsh Middle Eastern sun. "I think I recognize that one." she explained. "He looks an awful lot like the underling who paid me to bring him your book." Astrid looked around. "They probably won't recognize you, but they might notice me... we need to be careful."

"W͠el̷l͏ ͘iǹ y͏our͡ ̴c͡a҉se̸,͢ ̴not a҉ ͟c̵ult͢.̡ T͜h͜é w͞ors͢hi̧p̀ of̨ t̴h͡e ̡Eg̶y̷p͝t͠ia̛n̶ P͠a҉n͡th͢e̡o͢n i͞s̷ ́ali͝v̵e͏ ̶a͝nd̴ ͢we̵ll̷, ̸if ͠thèir n͢u͞m͘ber̶s͠ are ҉less͞ ͘t̢ha͘n͘ the͠y ́u̷s̷e̸d̵ ̀to be̵.͠ ͏A͠nd no͘,҉ it҉ is͟ n҉ot t͟h̷es͜e͡, s͝u̵şp͢icious ͏f̛el͠low͟s͏ ̨cǫngŕe͏gat͞ing ̸h̷eŕe͠.͜ I̡ kno̕w҉ ͠the na̕me of̛ ͠vírt҉u͟a̛l̢l͟y̕ ͢e̕v̛ery d̢e͢i͘t͏y ͜t̨ha̢t ̵has̸ eve̡r҉ ̧exi̸s͘te͠d f̡ŗóm my t̵ra̵v͜e̛l͢s̨,̸ a͡n̴d ͡th͠a̴t cr͏e͞a͡t̨u͝r̀e̛ t̷h̛ey ͠w̷ors̨hi͞p ̨iś ̶f͢ict͘i̡onal.̨ ͠I'v͏e̸ ńéver se͝en ̨i̢t ̡mènt҉io͞ned i͜n ̢a̴ny t͝ext ̡f̵r̶om ̢a͘ny ̛cìvi̡liz̢atìon͝.̛ T̛he̵y̧'re̕ not͡ ͏a҉ cul̶t͜,͠ thȩy͜'͡r̡e̸ a sham͝.͜"

Ysgolor then turned his attention to Astrid's former employer- turning a new peculiar shade of black at the sight of him.

"Worry͠?̢ ̨T̡h͟a͞t̢ ́f̛o͢òl̛ ̶w̨i͝l͟l ͢wake̕ ҉up wi͘th ̕the͢ b̧l͡ood̵ o͢f ̶hi͠s̀ ̀d̵i͡s͝g̵u̵s͝t҉ing ̕s͘pa̴wn͠ ̷a͠nd̛ ͞spo̸u͝se ͟a͘t̨ th̛e҉ ́d̵aw̴n͏ ̀o̵f to҉m̷oŗro̴w a͢f͟t͢er be͠i͏ńg͞ ̴c̸ơnvin҉ced͡ t͞h̸ey we̴ŗe ͘hor̸ri̴f̢i̷c̸ ̀de̸m҉o͝n̴s. Th͢ơs̷ę that ͘insul͝t ̨the̢ Gr̷e͢a̴t ͠Old O͢n҉es͠, ͞E̴SPECIA̛LL͟Y͜ à c̷reáti̢o͜n͢ of͠ Mot̸her̷, find̴ ͢the͟i̧r͏ ̢li͢v̨ès҉ dest͠r͡o̸y͝e͡d̀ by̸ t̶h͞ęi̧r̷ own ̢h҉a҉nd͘ś.͠ ́I'll͟ le͢t t̢he҉ ̛wor̸m lįvȩ f͟or̡ ͘now. ͜Sho͡ul̛d̴ h̴é ͞t́h̶réa͘t̵e͢n̴ ̛u̡s, h̀e̕ h̡a̢s n̛o̡t ͢ye͞t͞ únde̛rs̨to͜od͟ what t̀rue͘ ̸pai҉n is."

Ysgolor hissed at the sight of the man, forming an internal memory of what he looked like should his death be required later.

Well in your case, not a cult. The worship of the Egyptian Pantheon is alive and well, if their numbers are less than they used to be. And no, it is not these, suspicious fellows congregating here. I know the name of virtually every deity that has ever existed from my travels, and that creature they worship is fictional. I've never seen it mentioned in any text from any civilization. They're not a cult, they're a sham.

Worry? That fool will wake up with the blood of his disgusting spawn and spouse at the dawn of tomorrow after being convinced they were horrific demons. Those that insult the Great Old Ones, ESPECIALLY a creation of Mother, find their lives destroyed by their own hands. I'll let the worm live for now. Should he threaten us, he has not yet understood what true pain is.

[Agritum]

The Zipangese Delegation silently eyed the cult priest from the distance. Or well, Yoko and Riordan did: the guards were too much occupied in keeping any suspicious cultists away from the Princess and her English teacher.

Speaking of Yoko, her expression was neutral. So neutral that not even Mr. Riordan couldn't understand what were the exact feelings of the girl regarding the cult. Atleast, knowing Yoko's personality, the Columbian determined that she wasn't taking the whole cult much seriously. Most likely, the girl was seeing it as yet another Western oddity: something eccentrically funny, but not to be taken seriously by a proper lady.

Yoko gazed at Riordan with her eyes. The Columbian looked quite uncomfortable with the whole cult deal. She remembered his tales about cults in the US, and they really weren't rosy: what with the mass suicides, the forced drugging of the cult members, and the stockpiling of unregistered weapons.

"I guess we should be wary of this cult, Riordan-sensei." Yoko quipped.
"Indeed, your Highness, Indeed."

[Starkindler]

The centaur was on a nearby hill as well, arriving late to the cult meeting, that was already going on. She didn't want to bother the large crowd, even when she knew she had skills in handling them, learned in Tokyo, where the sidewalks are always full and busy. She wasn't listening actively to the cult leader, trying to reason herself why did she chose to come to the meeting at all. She felt that there was something in the pamphlet, and when she got it out, it felt like a love letter from an immensely beautiful girl to her. She put it away, to avoid being infatuated by it once again. She did however, sigh when putting the letter away. After it, she had heard a male (OOC: Zark) noticing audibly that the cult leader is troubling him.

"He's a cult leader, what did you expect?" - she sighed, answering his poetic question with another one.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Despite finding himself in a frightful stupor of sorts, debating himself between aversion and fear as he continued to behold the lead cultist's 'sermon', Yareth did hear someone addressing him, part of his mind realizing that he had likely spoken out loud earlier, and turned to face said person, only to realize with some surprise that it was a centaur. Not often did the young Tlaztecan see such creatures, and he certainly hadn't expected them to be present in Jerusalem. Regardless, there was one here, and furthermore she was addressing him. It would simply be impolite not to respond.

"I... I don't know..." Yareth admitted to the centaur. "I just... Did not expect a human being's spirit to be so... Disturbing..." He said, his voice growing quieter as he spoke. He was clearly rather unnerved.

[Starkindler]

She looked at the man, who was getting frightened and fearing the cult leader, while commenting on his unusual spirit. She also felt that the man was troubling, however, she could not recognize such a level, as she guessed the man could. It made her frightened also, from the look of the human next to her.
"O... Onii-san.... Are you all right? ... Should we leave?" - her voice troubled, looking on him.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Once again hearing the centaur's voice, Yareth turned to her and blinked a few times, before realizing how he had been acting all along. Naturally, his sensibility to spiritual matters would make the cult leader disturb him more than his peers, but that he showed it in such way that he made others nervous was neither something he had wanted nor something he was proud of.

"Ah, yes, I'm alright... It's just that I feel something... Unnatural. I'm sensitive to this kind of thing, so that's why it disturbs me, but... At least for now, I don't think he's a threat. We don't need to leave." He explained.

"Sorry for worrying you." He added afterwards, attempting to smile reassuringly at the centaur, with mild success.

[Starkindler]

She smiled back at the man, however, she was still worried about what he had said earlier, combined with his ability to sense spirits - as he said. She looked at him, with disturbance in her eyes. She also lowered her voice when asking him.

"You said you have an ability to sense spirits, so you are a kind of medium or magician. Or however magic-users call themselves nowadays. And you said he's worrying and unnatural. But not a threat. How that could be?"

She mentally also checked herself, however, quickly found out that she had no weapons on her person, as she was traveling abroad. So she had to resort on her own strength and martial prowess to resolve any situation that might come up, or to allow for a quick escape.

[Konariona]

Nadal watched curiously as the cultists milled about, listening to their leader, the man obviously either very persuasive or very correct. Every one of the people here seemed like they knew that he was telling the truth.
He turned to look at the crowd of people not cloaked in the robes of the cult, a motley crew that looked less fervent and more curious. A lizardman; a pair of people who seemed on edge, and in general a tension permeated the entire gathering.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Yareth listened to the centaur's words, though he seemed a bit puzzled at first, and shook his head afterwards. "Medium? Magician? No, no. I'm not like that. It's... Different. I'll explain it some other time." He said in response to her calling him a magic-user. How mistaken she was, considering he didn't even use magic. Or, perhaps he did, but his understanding of magic was scarce and he did not think the abilities he acquired by himself were magical. The ones granted to him by his ancestor certainly were not.

"And, well... He is unnerving, but that does not necessarily mean that he will attack us or anything of the sort, and his words alone, however worrying, cannot hurt us." He stated.

[Rupudska]

There was a rather odd noise coming from the platform now. The bearded man had raised a rather strange-looking staff. It had a purplish-red jewel embedded in the top, encased in a wooden cage that extended directly from the main shaft of the device.

He pointed it at the nearest soldier. "You, agent of a false god! I can assume easily that you doubt Npthoket, that you doubt ME. And beyond that, you likely think that I am a madman, and one that should be put down like a filthy dog!"

The staff immediately began glowing, and seemed to be sucking in purplish-red lines from various Ottoman soldiers stationed around the area, along with a few people in the crowd, mostly those nearest to the platform itself. Violet stood up abruptly, sensing that something very bad was about to happen in the next few seconds. She withdrew her bow, not needing a quiver at the moment - As a demigod, such trivial matters as ammunition were rather moot.

"But you fail to see the truth. You fail to see the light of reality, of RIGHTEOUSNESS. You see, it is you who shall be put down, you who shall be cleared away to make way for the AGENTS of LIGHT and TRUTH!"

The staff fired out several rays of light at the people it had just been sucking lines out of. These people seemed to split in half, their shadows separating from them and taking nigh-identical form of their counterparts. However, subtle differences in clothing, skintone, and the occasional body modification made it clear that they were dark versions of their real counterparts.

The dark soldiers immediately began opening fire on the crowd, swiftly overpowering the real ones.

[Agritum]

There was a rather odd noise coming from the platform now. The bearded man had raised a rather strange-looking staff. It had a purplish-red jewel embedded in the top, encased in a wooden cage that extended directly from the main shaft of the device.

He pointed it at the nearest soldier. "You, agent of a false god! I can assume easily that you doubt Npthoket, that you doubt ME. And beyond that, you likely think that I am a madman, and one that should be put down like a filthy dog!"

The staff immediately began glowing, and seemed to be sucking in purplish-red lines from various Ottoman soldiers stationed around the area, along with a few people in the crowd, mostly those nearest to the platform itself. Violet stood up abruptly, sensing that something very bad was about to happen in the next few seconds. She withdrew her bow, not needing a quiver at the moment - As a demigod, such trivial matters as ammunition were rather moot.

"But you fail to see the truth. You fail to see the light of reality, of RIGHTEOUSNESS. You see, it is you who shall be put down, you who shall be cleared away to make way for the AGENTS of LIGHT and TRUTH!"

The staff fired out several rays of light at the people it had just been sucking lines out of. These people seemed to split in half, their shadows separating from them and taking nigh-identical form of their counterparts. However, subtle differences in clothing, skintone, and the occasional body modification made it clear that they were dark versions of their real counterparts.

The dark soldiers immediately began opening fire on the crowd, swiftly overpowering the real ones.

Yoko's eyes widened, as she darted backwards, her eyes fixated on the scene unfolding before her. Riordan was already cowering on the ground, keeping his cap thight to his head, his eyes closed. He wasn't evidently enjoying the event.

"Your Highness," Riordan started, "get down! You can't risk being caught in one of those rays, especially when I am supposed to be your closest aide and advisor!" The Columbian screamed, vainly.

The imperial princess yelled something to her guards, which promptly grabbed Riordan and retreated away, carrying him on their shoulders.

"Your highness! Stop!"
Yoko drew her gunto from the scabbard. The ancestral blade gleamed in the morning sun.

The Sun. The big one, the one in the sky, was pulsating with energy. And so did the small one in Yoko's heart. The skin of the Zipangese girl became almost shining, as did her eyes.

And then, she ran. She ran towards the horde of dark soldiers, slicing the air with her fine blade and sending a barrage of slashes against them, each one of them gleaning with light.

You don't simply harm innocents in front of Yoko and get away with it.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Yareth witnessed the cultist leader's display and the subsequent bloodshed with his eyes wide open, not believing that everything had taken a turn for the worst in such a gruesome manner. However, he knew that he couldn't just continue to sit there or flee from the area. He had to do something about this.

Standing up, he turned to the centaur once more. "Sorry for saying that he was no threat, I suppose. It's obvious now that he is a dangerous person." He stated. He then lightened up a bit, though only for a moment, as he said: "It was nice meeting you. Farewell."

Afterwards, he began walking forward, drawing his bow, and slowly something seemed to cover him, and render him invisible to all eyes.

It was not long until arrows started pelting the dark soldiers, though when they looked, they would see no one where the shooter should be, and this invisible shooter changed his sniping spot rather often it seemed.

In addition to that, packs of scorpions rose from the ground and began attacking the dark soldiers, in an apparent attempt to draw their attention and buy the innocent civilians some time for them to flee from that place.

[Starkindler]

The centaur heard the voices of the psychic, nodded, and then observed that the cult leader used some staff with a red crystal to make evil versions of random bystanders. Then he revised his decision, and returned to his original option finding the cult leader worrying.
"Farewell, psychic-san, and good luck in the fight!" - she smiled at him. Or at least where he was, as he had simply disappeared.

The centaur could also see the Range Rover lady getting a bow from somewhere, and pulling its string, however arming it with no arrow. She wondered how she got the right to get a weapon to the Ottoman Empire, and also, why she doesn't use a quiver. Then she started looking around for weapons herself. While trotting against the crowd with the skill she has to use every day in Tokyo, she picked up pebbles and melted them, forming a ball of lava. She also made sure that it floated above her back, and didn't harm anyone nearby.

She was also looking around for any sticks, swords, lances, bayonets, or cherry blossom trees, trying to arm herself against the dark legion that she closed in on.

[Konariona]

Nadal watched in horror as the shadow-soldiers attacked the crowd and the people began to flee.
He quickly reached down into his bag for his helmet and slipped it on, pulling out his swords as he did so. These dark soldiers were strong and powerful, but he was faster and better.
The Ma'kaaran blinked over near a pair of the dark soldiers and gracefully began slicing them into little-itty-bitty pieces.
"Now this is what I call a meeting!" he said, laughing.

[Rupudska]

Teruko's questions were answered wordlessly and almost immediately as Violet fired a single, glowing yellowish bolt of light at the nearest dark soldier, who was noticeably slowed by the hit. She rapidly loaded a second 'arrow' and he went down permanently, fading into nothingness.

She readied another arrow, pointing it at one of the darkened civilians. They went down in only one hit, however.

I think I hate this city...

[AETEN II]

There was a rather odd noise coming from the platform now. The bearded man had raised a rather strange-looking staff. It had a purplish-red jewel embedded in the top, encased in a wooden cage that extended directly from the main shaft of the device.

He pointed it at the nearest soldier. "You, agent of a false god! I can assume easily that you doubt Npthoket, that you doubt ME. And beyond that, you likely think that I am a madman, and one that should be put down like a filthy dog!"

The staff immediately began glowing, and seemed to be sucking in purplish-red lines from various Ottoman soldiers stationed around the area, along with a few people in the crowd, mostly those nearest to the platform itself. Violet stood up abruptly, sensing that something very bad was about to happen in the next few seconds. She withdrew her bow, not needing a quiver at the moment - As a demigod, such trivial matters as ammunition were rather moot.

"But you fail to see the truth. You fail to see the light of reality, of RIGHTEOUSNESS. You see, it is you who shall be put down, you who shall be cleared away to make way for the AGENTS of LIGHT and TRUTH!"

The staff fired out several rays of light at the people it had just been sucking lines out of. These people seemed to split in half, their shadows separating from them and taking nigh-identical form of their counterparts. However, subtle differences in clothing, skintone, and the occasional body modification made it clear that they were dark versions of their real counterparts.

The dark soldiers immediately began opening fire on the crowd, swiftly overpowering the real ones.

"F̶U͜CK̵!҉"

Ysgolor swore as he quickly took action to prevent either himself, or others from getting killed by the steam of bullets being poured upon them by the corrupted soldiers. Stepping forward and dispelling the illusions guarding his appearance, the demigod procceeded to attack the corrupted soldier closest to him with his tentacles, grabbing the man's head with four tentacles while his hands wrestled the gun from his hands. A sickening snap was soon heard as the abomination's head was turned a full three-hundred and sixty degrees- the only thing tying the head to the body were now shredded strands of flesh and muscle. Dropping the corpse, Ysgolor quickly sapped the water from the man's body, giving him the appearance of a mummy, and Ysgolor several handy gallons of water.

"Bęh҉i͢n̡d́ m͡e!"

Ysgolor ordered to the group he noted was counterattacking the corrupted humans. Using the water he had ripped from the corpse, Ysgolor created a large shield of water that decelerated any bullets fired at it. While continuing to project the defensive construct, Ysgolor began to conjure two Shoggoth spawns that proceeded to distract the attention of the corrupted by eviscerating them.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Yareth continued sniping the enemy while under the protective shroud of invisibility that his ancestor had granted him, his arrows flying true and striking the enemy as though he had the eyes of an eagle. Which, right now, he did. And while the young Tlaztecan fought, so fought his small summons, the scorpions that plagued the enemy at every moment, even now buying time for the civilians to evacuate and for the fighters to fight back.

Speaking of which, Yareth was quite relieved to see that he was not the only one who decided to fight against the evil cult. All around, people were making use of weapons and even supernatural powers to push back against the dark soldiers. Even the centaur he met earlier was fighting. He couldn't help but feel worry for their well-being, but he had to admit it was good to see there was people fighting.

When the strange squidlike creature shouted seemingly at those who fought against the dark soldiers, Yareth heard the call, but he did not attend, since the wall of water would render his arrows useless, and he was not exactly in a lot of danger, concealed as he was. Thus, the Tlaztecan demigod continued to figh.

[Neo Arcad]

When the shooting started, Astrid jumped into action. She saw the shadowy dopplegangers begin killing the people in the crowd, starting with the Ottoman gendarmes. When they began to move inward, she took advantage of the chaotic situation and the big shiny targets like Ysgolor and some centaur in order to dive to prone next to a Turkish soldier's corpse. She retrieved his sidearm from its bloodstained holster, and checked it. It was a shoddy piece typical of Ottoman-issue guns, but a firearm is a firearm, and as long as it functions, it can do its job. One of the shadow duplicates caught sight of her and turned towards her, bringing its own weapon to bear. The mercenary didn't give him that chance; her first two shots hit him in the head and neck, and the third punched through his heart. The dark versions of the people seemed more resilient than ordinary humans, but 7.62x25 Tokarev doesn't lie, and the high-velocity rounds dropped him like a stone. She opened fire on another one, a little more distant, which had just bashed a woman in the face with the butt of his gun, and then proceeded to execute her with it. The first shot from her purloined handgun missed him, but as he turned, the second caught him square between the eyes, and the third impacted his shoulder. Yet another shadow clone, this one a regular civilian, rushed at her as the second guard dissipated. She turned and fired, the first bullet impacting the duplicate's lower torso, and the second going high and to the right. The gun had atrociously heavy trigger pull, leading even an expert markswoman like Astrid high and dry. The click of the hammer on an empty chamber told her that she needed to find another magazine, and fast. Though being shot had slowed it down, the duplicate rushed at her once again, intent on physical harm. Astrid located another eight-round box on the body of the guard, fumbled to find the magazine catch (it was at the base of the grip), discarded the empty magazine, slid the new one into place... and took a punch to the gut that made her drop the weapon entirely. It didn't knock her off her feet, but the shadow double was relentless, if nothing else, striking her multiple times with its grayscale fists. She began to recover, however, in the face of its imprecise and reckless swings, several of which missed; she began dodging and blocking the hits as they came, and then turned the tables with her own series of open-hand strikes and snap kicks that would have sent an ordinary opponent reeling. The duplicate seemingly didn't feel the pain, though; it caught her mid-swing with another solid punch, and with the wind knocked out of her, she was felled by the following blow. Astrid caught herself as she hit the ground, but the dark man still had the upper hand, and he moved in for what looked like the finisher. Unless someone helped her out, Astrid was going to have to think of something really fast.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

As he continued fighting against the dark soldiers from beneath his veil of light, Yareth made sure to keep an eye on his fellow fighters. While he didn't personally know any of them, except perhaps the centaur girl, he considered them all allies, and he had to watch out for his allies. Losing one of them in the middle of such a fight simply wouldn't do, after all. Thus, he felt it was important to make sure they were all safe.

And, as far as he could see, the black-haired girl about to be put down by one of the dark soldiers he was fightin against was anything but safe. He would definitely have to do something about that. Acting quickly, he took an arrow, aimed, and- Whoops, wait, no arrow. Yareth silently cursed himself for not bringing more along, and put his bow away.

Then, moving with the swiftness of a jaguar, he closed the distance between himself and the dark soldier attacking Astrid. Said soldier would soon find himself stopped, a jagged black blade, now partially red, jutting out of his torso. The Tlaztecan had used the powers granted to him by his divine ancestor to will the obsidian blade into existence, believing that it was the best thing he could do at the moment. Thankfully it seemed that he had managed to save the woman.

"Are you alright?" He asked, turning to her, while moving a bit closer and using his power to extend the shroud of invisibility to her as well. He kept holding the blood-stained obsidian blade, just in case.

[Starkindler]

She, failing to find anything to fight with, continued her charge against the dark soldiers, whom started to fire at her, being an enormous, lit target. However, with the civilian movement, and her continuous adaptations, mostly to the civilians, as she couldn't find where the bullets are coming from, she managed to get only surface wounds.

After it, she found a crowd of 10 dark soldiers, then threw a lava ball at them. Two of them had fallen down on the spot, as she hit their legs, burning them thoroughly, and withdrawing their ability to stand for a while. Another three of them were hit on their arms, and splash damage hit them on their chest. The further causing them to scream like banshees, and juggle their guns in one hand, or switch to their side-arms. The latter were just annoying to them, but did not cause any non-survivable or debilitating damage, especially when the heat of the projectile cauterized the wounds. One sustained a minor burn from the lava as he tried to jump away, and two managed to escape the projectile unharmed. However her shoot exposed her even ore, and the standing ones were shooting at her as she turned around preparing another charge. While she looked at a civilian girl who had been knocked off by the blast, and now had difficulty standing as well as another girl who sustained a burn from the proximity of the ammo.

She then yelled up, as she was hit in her left arm. From this, she tripped up, spraining an ankle. The bleeding wasn't serious, however, she had difficulty concentrating on battle, and were limping, halving her maximum speed, range and capacity, as well as losing any meaningful function in her left arm, not wanting to increase bleeding, and, from the pain, not sure if she had a broken bone. She increased her concentration, nevertheless, lifting the ball of magma higher, and beginning another charge against the dark soldiers. She looked at the innocents as well. She had found that the girl with the minor burn continued to run away. She then aimed to pick the wounded girl up.

[Rupudska]

Violet continued firing golden arrows into the crowd, which seemed to be maintaining size despite most of the uncorrupted humans attempting to escape. It seemed that they could spread their powers, but it was slow, and they weakened themselves. Like a poorly-made version of zombification, almost. The tide would soon turn.

She impaled another dark citizen through the skull using her arrow, then spotted what appeared to be an injured centaur in the crowd. It looked... no, it was the one she had seen on the way to the Mount. She walked towards the centaur, walking backwards and occasionally pausing to shoot down a particularly annoying dark soldier, although there weren't too many left.

"So... having a bit of trouble, eh?"