Voyage Through the Multiverse (Ended) [IC]

[Rostavykhan]

Dead Man's Party
Miria

"Delilah. Right."

Wait...yeah, Delilah. She knew that! Miria tilted her head back and, and smacked her forehead. "Oh course. I totally forgot your last name. I'm too stressed out.", She said with a chuckle. "Polly Delilah. Um, you want my name...uh..."

Oh geeze, her name. Where the hell did she begin? She'd really only ever told everyone her first and last name. That was their custom, right? She thought about it, and chose to give her name a bit slowly. "Miria. Uh...", She paused; she began to wave one hand around, almost in sync with every syllable she spoke. "Miria Mradhula Rakjyumatsna Jayalaarshwa Bankhari. Uh...but if that's too long, just feel free to cut out all the middle parts."

She laughed, trying to hide a hint of embarrassment. "I think you guys might be a bit simpler with your names."

She was a tiny bit relieved. She wouldn't be ending up with a black eye from Polly, at any rate, which was good, she supposed. She still felt awful, however; her laugh was genuine, but it didn't stop the pain that she still felt. Maybe it was a good thing, though. If she didn't laugh, she'd cry.

Katya

The gang - what was left of it - was back together. The old man and his girl were reunited. The hotel was saved, or as saved as it could be. There were certainly survivors, somewhere. They'd be taken care of, and the scene would be cleaned up, but still. Katya didn't like it; it was too sloppy. She didn't know how she'd explain her own room, the corpses and fluids and damage everywhere. She was tired, and even if she wasn't, she'd have trouble making sense of it all. Instead of thinking about it, Katya just focused on the view outside, stepping back into the room to lean against the shattered window. No darkness anymore...this time, she was met with a sunrise over the treeline. It was beautiful...or, that was what she would have thought, but that damned light was killing her eyes. Would she have bags? She'd need a beauty rest for sure.

The sunrise wasn't the only welcome sight, however. Originally, her sister was supposed to have been there to meet up, but it seemed as though she was held up when the place disappeared. Now she was standing in the parking lot, along with a few other vehicles, with suits walking about. They'd take care of the prisoners, and they'd organize cleanup. Katya didn't envy them one bit; honestly nearly blowing herself up sucked, but compared to the job they'd have to do? At least she had something that she could brag about.

Once more, a voice called up from the lot, although instead of Ellie's surrender, it was her little sister, screaming at the top of her lungs. "Hey,. asshole!", She yelled, stomping her foot. "Do you know how fucking long I've been looking for this place? Jesus, what went down? Don't answer your phone, don't leave any signs, and - wait, did you fucking shoot out a window?!"

Katya sighed; her sister wasn't the most calm or well-spoken person. A shame, really. Such a heathen. She was glad to see her. "Well, I suppose that does it, then.", She said aloud. Wex cocked his head; "You baggin' us now?", He asked, half teasing, half serious. Katya shrugged. "Honestly, I'd have worse done, but I'm not the one who will be overseeing you now."

She scoffed. "I should be filing a report for that one soon. Now, let's get downstairs, shall we? One final bow for the audience."

[Naval Monte]

Shadows of the Empire

Kozhva-Russia, Earth-A

Rico saw the swarm of missiles fly towards the giant mecha as the machine brought forth its shield. The general was surprised to see just how quickly the machine moved. The size should suggest it has a lot of mass and as such it's weight should put great limits to its speed yet it moved as though it was a regular size human being? "Shit they are using mass negation technology.  That has to be the reason why it can move that quickly" Rico thought as he clinched his fingers on his rifle. 

His helmet visors scanners detected the sudden build up of heat from the machine, telling him that not only does such a machine exist but the speeds it moved under was making it produce a lot of heat. In any circumstances Rico would have used this information to maybe have the heat build be used to their advantage but as he saw the missiles only leave a scorch mark on the shield he knew that there needs more to his plan. 

Yet with the pilot distracted it meant he wasn't using the massive machine against his and the Russians. "Morrigans. Keep firing missiles at him. You too Goliaths." Rico ordered. He heard the roaring jets of the gunships flying past him as the crafts began to spray out bullets from their chin mounted mini gun while firing out missiles. From the streets Rico saw missiles flying out from the town towards the mech.

The general would see more Venom soldiers reaching his location. The man torn around and gehman to run away. Jumping off the building and allowing his pack to make him hover around u till he landed on the roof of a house and slide down the slanted gable roof until he was now falling to the ground, landing on his feet with no issues. He would run through the streets firing at the few soldiers he saw.

Rico would hear his troops screaming out how the lasers from the enemy was destroying everything in its path and how even the powered exosuits can barely defend against it. "All troopers avoid being on the enemies sight. Goliaths disengage from the enemy. The damn apes are seriously pissed about what we did to their buddies." 

The exosuit troopers and mecha suits were practically retreating, a few still fitting out shells, rockets, and energy beams so to slow down the enemy. Rico was still running through the town, occasionally hiding within a house he broke into to avoid an IFV. In one such hiding spot he would have noticed from the windows a bright flash appearing outside. 

"Holy shit you guys saw that!" Rico heard one of the soldiers shout out. "The Russians have a super weapon but it barely scratch that metal monster!" Another soldier screamed out. If that was true than there was no way they can stay fighting for this town if the enemy has something like that on the field. Especially with how many soldiers and vehicles the enemy has along with the metal titan. "Everyone we're retreating now! This battle is untenable in its current state." Rico told his troops. 

The AR window from the recon drone was showing him just how hopeless this battle was as the defenders are being pushed back by the seething tide of Venomian war machines. Rico wasn't surprised to hear from Vasily that they are retreating. "You heard it folks. Let's get our asses out of this death trap." 

From the air the Morrigans continue to attack the mechanical titan but a few broke off to attack the soldiers and IFV to assist in making an opening for everyone to flee. Some of the gunships landed to carry off a few troops. The Goliaths were fighting off the IFVs as they tried to make a breech to escape. A few were only being operated by the AI within the machine as the human pilot evacuated from the mecha to have a better chance to escape, mainly by the the few Morrigans landing to pick up people. The AIs fought against Venom to give the retreating force enough time to flee before they were destroyed.

Rico ran out of the house looking for Morrigan. As he was looking for the gunship the remaining Goliaths were following the tanks and trucks by the new trail open, assisting the tanks with firing out the Venomians. During his search he somehow ran into Vasily, the commander giving him coordinates on where to go. When told the real battle will begin he nodded. "The real battle huh? Well this was one hell of a warm up." Rico would see a message appear in his visor. As it open he quickly rear through the content.

"Well today is our lucky day Vasily. Refenrocements are arriving and a Oracle is going to be with them." The two men can hear a Morrigan getting close to them. As the craft began to hover and lower itself down to pick them up Rico would say. "I'll fill you in what Oracles are but let's just say that it's going my groups super weapon for this fight." He told him before boarding the craft.

---

Venomian Detention Center, Sicily, Italy, Earth-A

Lilith quickly move through the door and once she was away from it also moved away from the Venomians to lessen the chance of her being caught. As she looks around the facility she ponder what sort of rooms would be in this facility.

Looking at the labels she saw a few that stuck out to her, the main one being Reeducation Facility "I have a bad feeling about this place" she thought as she looked at the door that was further away .

When the intercom called for a doctor she would see the Medical Advancement Facility door open and see the familiar face of the Crow who was with Gorilla Gord. Seeing him go to the reeducation facility made Lilith follow the bird towards the room. She wanted to know what sort of work was he doing in what was suppose to be a detention facility.

[Naval Monte]

The Third Wizarding War 2

As Madison and Dumbledore walked to the ruins of Hogwarts a group of crows could be heard crawling out. They were not unusual to themselves, if anything they were to be expected in this dreary place. But what most were not aware of the crows was the fact that among them were a few with eyes who were cameras. 

Within their ears these cries had small microphones to record any sound they heard and they had numerous other implants within them to server for espionage and reconnaissance. Yet these cyborg avaians had one last secret to share. Among the murder of carrion eaters they were very much a part of the black birds daily meal. These cyborgs are in fact dead birds.

Reanimated by both technological and thaumaturgical wonders these zombies had a glamour place to hide their decaying appearance and stench, the cybernetics and dark magic help the birds to move as though they were alive again. The demonic intelligence that is possessing them is reenacting the behavior and intelligence these birds once had in life.

The birds looked at the two magi while others were flying around the grounds. The birds from the air had a better view of the bodies that littered the destroyed castle, recording the crimes that had taken place in the castle grounds. A few even spotted the van used by the wizard and witch hunters. One crow even flew down and landed on the hood of the vehicle. The bird simply crawl as it look at the people within the vehicle.

Other crows would land close to Madi and Dumbledore, making keeping their distance from the two magic users. as they walk around and pecked at the ground to pretend to be searching for food. Far away the data they were recording was going to a remote site hidden from public view. The creators of the avian spies were spying this world to monitor the current state of it.

[Menschenfleisch]

Secrets of the Raven | Andarta

It wasn't often that Claudia got to be alone. Before the cataclysm, she'd have whiled away her hours simply maintaining herself. She'd wake up in the morning and bring her hand down on her phone whose alarm tone seemed to become harsher and more infuriating every time she heard it, almost as if it was taunting her. “Go on,” it sneered. “Wake up. Keep lying to them.” She'd come to dread the alarm less than the morning over time, and yet she'd never been able to bring herself to simply get rid of the damn phone. It felt like she needed that reminder, that daily conversation with it. “I'll fix things once I've gotten one more soul,” she'd assure herself. “I'll fix things once Kyle is gone. I'll fix things once AEGIS leaves.” Over the years, she'd come to realise that whatever she wanted, whatever she believed, didn't matter. Whether she believed in her own cause was irrelevant: she and her friends had come so far that turning back would've been spitting in the face of those who'd given their lives for her. And yet, she still pursued every avenue to justify her actions, even though she knew that they were unforgivable. Her parents had been deluded and insane, but their faith had been real. She didn't even believe in what she was doing. At this point, she was just going through the motions in the hopes that some day, she'd move beyond what she'd lost. This cycle, fuelled by grief, had stopped being a mere habit or coping mechanism decades ago. Now, it was a lifestyle, one that she refused to discard not because it made her feel better, or because it was the right thing to do, but because she was simply afraid to do anything else. Now, however, the cycle had been broken, and yet she continued to feel nothing. Nothing at all; not from Diana's death, not from Vincent's sacrifices, not from the loss of everything she'd ever built up. It was her own fault, though. She'd spent so long wallowing in fear and self pity that she'd burnt her emotions out. Her mind was a faulty engine, trying to get started once more but simply coughing up fumes.

Claudia laid her hand on the headstone. She didn't know whose name was on it, nor did she care to check. All she knew was that whoever lay beneath her feet deserved better than what they got. The world was twisted and sick. It was senselessly cruel, and filled with things to be both ashamed and enraged at. But why? That had been Diana's question, the one burning motivation that'd kept her by Andarta's side all these years. Not Claudia's side – how could anyone care about that wreck of a woman – but Andarta's, the legend of Branwhrn and the scourge of England. That name... she'd come up with it just over a century ago as a sort of joke. It had been just seven years after she'd first left Branwhrn, during her tenure in the Cabal de Philosophie. A rather quaint group of French thaumaturges, she'd thought at the time. It was the group's policy that all its initiates, after a single year of dedicated study, should choose an alias for themselves which they would use during all future correspondence. The rite wasn't a superstitious one, but a pragmatic means of concealing their identities. The monarchs of Europe hadn't looked upon civilian practitioners of thaumatology then as leniently as the Celestial Order and AEGIS did now. She'd picked out the title Andarta, a Celtic goddess of war, purely because it was so melodramatic. 'Nobody will take the name seriously', she'd thought. And yet, by the 70s, the whole of Wales had been gripped by a shared terror, a fear of that dreadful witch who could bring nations to their knees, and which matched the name Arawn in notoriety. How many people had she killed since she'd left the mansion? Twelve thousand? More? Her kill count had never even come close to that of the Reavers, though they'd done a much better job of concealing themselves and their kills.

The worst thing was that at first, Claudia felt excited by the fact that people feared her. She'd imagined herself as some kind of angel of justice, or some embodiment of righteous perdition. She'd given no thoughts to the thousands who she slaughtered, nor what would happen once she moved on from one battle and started looking for the next. She'd left towns barren of anomalies, and mystic cabals in tatters. If the commonfolk, the regular people of the world who were not privy to the anomalous arts, had known about the genocide which she'd conducted beneath their very noses, she could've only fantasised about what kind of abject, heart-stopping fear they would've felt. The exhilaration she'd felt a scant few decades ago was obscene, and something that she felt an unrelenting guilt for. “Andarta?” The name struck her like a ringer on the side of a church bell. Her whole body trembled, and the headstone threatened to part beneath her fingers. She raised her head in a flash, locking eyes with the man who had addressed her, a well dressed patrician looking fellow with a cane in one hand and a series of fiery red scars on the palm of the other. His eyes had been put out by irons a long time ago, and had been replaced by whirring masses of bronze gears which seemed to serve no purpose other than to spin and make noise. “Xerxes.” She looked back toward the grave, looking at how the mud and rainwater curled around the soles of her shoes, slowly miring her in moist, grainy sludge. “We've been looking for you for almost a week. Where have you been?” Her eyes darted to and fro, trying to find something to lock onto. They decided to fixate on a puddle some distance away, at the center of which a platform of drowned, huddled-together insects was bobbing up and down. “I was unconscious.” Xerxes stepped forward, rapping the tip of his cane against the graves to his side. “The evacuation was a disaster! There's nearly nobody left!” She bit her lip, holding back a torrent of barbed words. “Do you think that was my fault?” she wanted to blurt. “How did they die?” she asked instead. “The bastard esper's tricks. Before his death, he managed to dig up blackmail on billions of people, and enough money to pay off even more. Why, I spent three days untangling how my second in command died. It turns out that a greengrocer in England received a hefty amount of money from an anonymous sponsor, as well as instructions to start selling apples for free. And through some miraculous contrivance, one of my acolytes happened to visit his store, and also just happened to pick up a batch of granny smith apples which she brought back to Branwhrn to give to her ageing grandmother. Her grandmother ate one of the apples and in a bizarre turn of events, choked to death on a seed. When the acolyte heard of this she rushed to her car and rushed to the hospital, but her brakes failed four times in a row as she was trying to park, leading to her careening into a doctor who just happened to be scheduled to examine my second in command's eyes later that day. Because the doctor was unavailable, the hospital had to-” She held up her hand. “I know, I know.” but Xerxes pressed forward. “No, you don't. Even now, individuals and mercenary companies around the world are arraying themselves against the Crimsonites' remaining allies. In some cases, they don't even know who they're fighting, or that they're fighting anyone at all! Why just last night, two of my followers drowned in glasses of orange juice. We are doomed, Andarta, and we need your help!” Trembling, he got down on one knee, and put both hands on top of his cane. He knelt before her, voice quivering. “Andarta, please. Deliver us from-” “No.” Xerxes raised his head, mouth slack. “N-... no? B-but, why?” She let out a heavy sigh, and glanced at the mechanical man, her eyes filled with pity and pain. “Kyle would've factored me into his calculations. I'm sorry. I want to save you, but I know that if I were to try, I'd just be playing into his plan.” She stepped away from the grave, walking up to Xerxes, still kneeling. “His calculations aren't infallible, though. Maybe, in two days' time, I'll be able to help you.” How could she do this? How could she allow one of her most loyal followers, one of her most dedicated soldiers, die at the hand of her most loathed enemy? She felt like a mother before a child with the plague. She could comfort her child and embrace them, but in doing so she'd catch the disease herself. “Wait!” he cried. “If I am doomed then allow me, at the very least, to provide you one last service.” She turned around, fixing him with a perplexed stare. “I just told you that I was leaving you to die. Why are you offering me your life?” He raised his head, through his knee remained in the mud. “When I first met you, you taught me to believe in something larger than myself. I saw you, and I knew that you were seized up in your cause; imbued with a desire for justice that would not be denied. I vaunted you as a god. Since then, you have lost faith in yourself. You've abandoned your old ideals, but I have not. I still believe in what you were, even if you don't any longer.”

Claudia's sucked in deep breaths, clenching and unclenching her fists. Her eyes teared up, her throat tightened. Every sensation in her body was magnified tenfold, and a fire began to build in her chest. Gradually, she came to open her mouth, and growl; “What the fuck is wrong with you?” She combed her fingers through her hair, scratching furiously at her scalp. “I lied to you all this time. I pretended to be strong, I pretended to have a plan. I killed children, all for the sake of someone who's been dead for over a century! What have I ever done for you? I've taken your faith, your money, your power, and used it for myself. I've used you, in spite of you and your followers being some of the most vulnerable people in society. I've worked with serial killers, genocidal supersoldiers, apocalypse cults, and for what? Ten thousand deaths later, we're still no closer to our goal than when we started.” She paced toward and pressed in close to Xerxes, trying to discern something from his expression; “I don't understand. Tell me why you're still here.” She was so fucking tired. Tired of hearing the same platitudes and excuses, both from herself and from others. She'd had over half a century to think about what she was doing; she'd had fifty years to dismantle the logic that she'd used in her earlier years. There was nothing that Xerxes could say that she wouldn't have an answer to. She'd spent all this time formulating a perfect antithesis to herself. “You showed me a vision of what I could be, and what the world could be.” He stood up, staring her down and somehow conveying compassion through his mechanical eyes. “I saw a world aflame, filled with the dead and the dying. I saw billions, shrieking for salvation. And I saw you, the only person in the world who was willing to do the vilest, most despicable acts to prevent that future from coming to pass, even though you knew just how terrible your deeds were.” He put a hand on her shoulder, keeping a comforting weight on her. His body was warm, like an ember-heaped hearth. “You were willing to do evil things not because you yourself were evil, or because you thought that the end justified the means, but because you were willing to be the villain, so that nobody else had to. You became Atlas of your own volition. Who would I be to let you carry the weight of the world alone?” He stepped back, laying his hands on his cane once more.

Claudia stood still, letting the rain run down her back. She drew in a shaky breath. “I can't redeem myself. The least I can do now is to see this through to the end.” She straightened her back, welcoming the feeling of dread that mounted itself upon her shoulders. Thousands had already given their lives for her. She had no right to do any less than they had. The only way that this could end was with genocide on a heretofore unimaginable scale. The path she'd chosen was truly unforgivable. She was worse than the mindless monsters of the Final Nights, and more despicable than the simple gods which her parents had worshipped, because she'd chosen to do this. She'd had the choice to be something good for the world, and had rejected that in favour of being its enemy. Had it been worth it? She had no answers. All that she knew was that the answer didn't matter, at least not to her. “Xerxes, just... leave. I'll see this through to the end. You don't have to sacrifice anything else.” He shook his head. “The esper's planned my death already. The Sword of Damocles is hanging over my head; I don't have any time left to enjoy. I might as well contribute it to something.” She rolled her eyes, tucking her hands into her pockets. “All that machinery in your head, and you're still a slower thinker than me. Kyle would've seen this coming; now that you're not involved with me, the attacks will stop.” She finally gave him pause. “You're not going to let me join you again, are you?” “Absolutely not.” He stood up and patted down his pants, flicking dirt and water off his shins. “Well, if it's going to be that way, lemme buy you a drink.”

Dead Man's Party | Polly

”Miria Bankhari. That's... a really pretty name. I-if you don't mind me saying that.” For all her newfound courage and surprising maturity in the face of, from her perspective, getting sent thirty years forward in time, Polly was still the same slightly incompetent, bumbling girl that she'd always been. ”So, um, I think I need some time just to get used to... this.” She gestured at herself. ”I'll-... I'll see you around, Miri.” And with that, I awkwardly transitioned into the timeskip.

---

”Day 1. I'm actually a bit hesitant to do this, but, apparently recordings can be pretty useful all around for cataloguing your findings, keeping yourself sane, and providing useless trivia for your friends to ask you about in the event that an alien impersonates you. No joke, that's what the handbook says. Anyway, I'm supposed to make a recording every morning, or every night. I chose the former, since I'm not really a night owl, and I loosen up a bit after getting a good nap, or so I'm told. Anyway, I haven't really... gone anywhere yet, so, I guess I'm making this recording about my origin universe; Alpha-1. There's not much to say about it, really. Planet: Earth. Population: 12 billion. People who like me: zero. God, I'm going to be so glad once I'm out of here. I can't imagine anything worse than what people think of as the 'standard'. Working in an office every day, sucking up to your deranged boss, trying to hold together a failing marriage... ah, crap, I shouldn't be such a downer. I'm going to listen to this one day. Oh, and hey; Polly, if you're like... ninety eight, and on your death bed, say hi to your family for me. Honestly, I don't think I'll ever have kids, but who knows? Maybe I'll change my mind.

… Man, the magnolias are pretty.”

She ended the playback, staring at the last frame of the video. Flowers outside her home; red, violet and white, just as she remembered them. But the house, the street, the skyline, everything else looked completely alien to her. It wasn't better or worse, it was just... different. Her neighbour's driveway had two cars in it in the recording. Had Larry been having visitors over at his house that day, or had he finally gotten into a relationship? The horizon was covered in blinking blue lights, and the silhouettes of hulking concrete behemoths. The mountains around her home town were hardly visible behind all those architectural monoliths. She tucked the device back into her pocket, gazing contentedly at the horizon, watching the sun as it rose over The Magnate. She was sitting on the steps of the hotel, the courtyard of which was filled up with guests and policemen. They'd all been provided blankets and cups of cocoa by the hotel staff while the police sorted things out. Hopefully, they didn't arrest her for carrying a gun. Or a knife. Or because she'd apparently shot at least three people. The idea that she'd shot anyone was a hard one to wrap her head around. She couldn't imagine taking someone's life, and yet there was irrefutable evidence that she'd just done so, and had been doing so for quite some time. Was being an explorer really like that? Was it just murder after murder, battle after battle? She sighed, and took another swig from her mug.

The Great Wizard Rebellion | Kiara and Skye

”Oh god. The cheese is killing me.” “Rather like the bullet that's about to be lodged in your head?” Skye rolled to one side just as a bullet rocketed past her ear, letting out a low whine before hitting an adjacent wall, pulverising one of the bricks and covering the assembled group in mortar dust. Kiara got down in an instant, firing a single round into the distance. A distant, pained scream began to emanate from the woods, slowly growing deeper, louder and more warped. The group saw a man bursting forth from the treeline, tossing aside his heavy kit and sprinting for his life. A long metallic limb stretched from within the forest, snapping the man's legs like a kid snipping paper in arts and crafts, before pulling him back into the dark. There was a monumental outpour of blood, followed by total silence. “Shit. That was pretty close.” ”Did you have to tell me about the bullet in such a convoluted way, though?” “Hey, it's not as if it would've hurt you.” ”Woulda given me a nasty headache, though.”

[Rostavykhan]

Dead Man's Party

The rest of the morning was rather uneventful. Katya was pulled aside to provide reports and give debriefings, her luggage was packed, and she was allowed to walk freely and oversee most of the cleanup. The rest of the gang was let off easily, and allowed to go their separate ways, as ordered by Katya, who had also put in a good word for the hotel staff; the innkeeper was a cooperative guy, and she had appreciated that. Miria, for her part, found herself packing quickly, as most of her belongings were already tucked away in her backpack, with the exception of her tablet and artifact. While Polly listened to her recordings, Miria listened from nearby, although she pretended to be more concerned with her own notes and data, as well as with the stone in her hand.

Miria turned the crystal over in her hands. It was...wrong. The stone was supposed to have been a milky white, a little blue even. It was essentially solidified aethereum. Now, however, there were darker colours in it. A black stain sat in the center of the crystal, appearing to writhe and sway almost like smoke. Faint blossoms of light shown through, like lightning inside the dark stormcloud, sickly and green. It wasn't what Miria had expected. That stone was supposed to run on souls. It was a Lunar artifact, and an old one at that, made long before aethereum extractors and arcane batteries were a thing. Still, it wasn't meant for the kind of soul that had been stuffed into it. The reaction was troubling; Miria had no idea if it would even work anymore, and if it did...then what would happen?

She scrolled through the tablet in her lap, doing a little reading on the matter, but she couldn't find much. All of her notes were on subjects like engine and consol repair, or wiring, or reading arcane energy signatures. Lunar wizardry didn't seem to overlap too much with Janavar engineering, surprisingly. Her religious texts from the Cult libraries back home didn't seem to provide much illumination on the matter either.

It was no matter. She wasn't paying too much attention at the moment anyways. She was having trouble concentrating. Her mind was still on Mnemosyne and Marcus, and what had happened earlier, and how sudden it had all been. She wanted to feel sick, or sad, or something, but at that moment she just felt numb. She was replaying the entire event over and over again in her head, but even though she knew that it had happened, and even though she accepted it, she just didn't feel anything. It hadn't really hit her yet - not all of it, anyways. She still felt anxious and annoyed, and guilty, and that was bothering her on top of it all. She had been responsible for that, she thought to herself; she'd gotten them killed. She'd failed.

But, that wasn't all that Miria was thinking, and her anger wasn't just directed towards herself.

Several meters away, Katya was speaking with someone...her sister? She didn't know. The elder woman tossed a case into the trunk of her car, then closed it, glad to be over with her packing. "That's a relief.", She said with a sighed, clapping her hands together. "But, as I was saying, there were two casualties - well, three. Actually, there were more, but I'm directly referring to those among the team I found."

"That's...rough.", Said her sister, who was sitting on the ground, back against one of the tires. Katya shrugged. "It's unfortunate, but there was little helping it.", She said. "One was bound to go regardless of what had happened, the other two were casualties due to their rushing into trouble. Honestly, I find it baffling, but it can't be helped. Anyways, I'm not one of them, so I would say that my plan was a success."

A success. Yeah, right. Miria found herself biting her tongue; Katya's plan had gotten her friends - the closest things to friends, anyways - killed or maimed. Her plan had worked alright, tricking strangers in dying in her place. She hadn't even shed a tear over any of it. How many people had she let die before? For some reason, that just made Miria angry. It made her really, really angry. If it wasn't for her, then nobody would be dead. Miria began to growl, and then, without even realizing it, she began to get up. Her vision began to blur...

She blacked out, or...something. She didn't know what was coming over her, though. She'd never been that mad before.

Miria hopped up, oddly calm, and tapped Katya on the shoulder. "You. Human. Can I talk to you around the corner, in private?", She asked. Katya seemed to be a bit puzzled, but she nodded, and waved Miria along, leaving her sister to stay by the car. "Is there something you need?", She asked, leading the way, only turning her back for a moment to look around the corner, before turning it. As soon as they were out of site, Miria's real reason for wanting to go over there became more apparent.

"You bitch.", She growled, making a beeline straight for Katya, who turned around just in time to see the small woman through a punch her way. Her fist connected, knocking the taller woman right in the eye. Katya, for her part, would normally have been more restrained or graceful in her response, but after being up all night, nearly dying, and being caught off guard by Miria, her reaction was a bit more...blunt than usual. Katya jerked back, grabbing a handful of Miria's hair and yanking her forward, eliciting a scream from the Janavar woman, and in an instant, it seemed as though the two would end up brawling on the ground. Somehow, Miria found herself spun around and put in a chokehold, struggling to break away from Katya, who was neither yelling nor struggling like she was. Katya seemed to almost be choking Miria out as if it were some minor inconvenience. While she did that the other girl accompanying her got up and walked over, hearing the scream, and jumped in to handle the two of them. Miria began to kick and fight back harder, and when it was clear that she couldn't force her way out, she looked to her last resort to break Katya's grip, opening her mouth and biting down hard on the arm that was wrapped around her neck.

Miria's teeth sunk into Katya's right forearm, and a pained scream let Miria know that she'd done her damage. Katya loosened her grip, and Miria broke free, but her relief was short-lived. No sooner had she broken out of Katya's grasp did her sister's boot jam itself into her stomach, knocking the wind out of her, and leaving Miria on her hands and knees on the ground. "Knock it off, now!", Yelled the girl, nudging Miria over, then stepping around to push Katya back towards her car. "Both of you, not just the glasses."

"I was attacked first!", Said Katya, gritting her teeth and holding her now-bleeding arm. She scowled at Miria. "You're a monster."

Miria scowled back, her teeth slick and red. "Your blood is foul."

"What's the matter? Haven't you hurt enough people with your ill-conceived plans in one day?", Asked Katya, snapping, and coming off as just a little more spiteful than she could have been. Miria's face somehow grew even more pale at that remark. Somehow, she felt even sicker and dizzier than she had before, and it was then that she realized just how shaky she was, and just how little control she had to keep herself from lashing out again. "I swear, I'll kill you if I ever see you again.", She retorted, barely having the breath to keep going. "None of this would have happened if you hadn't met us.", She growled, moving to stand up again. Her leg gave out, and she simply stumbled onto her knees again. Katya, meanwhile, continued to stare down at Miria with cold eyes, unwavering, despite the adrenaline pumping through her veins.

"I might have led you along, but I wasn't the one who chose to risk a procedure to save a doomed woman. I'm not the one who revealed that plan to your friends, and I wasn't the one who made them pull the trigger or rush into a dangerous room. Their own bravado and lack of control was what doomed them, and it was your actions that forced their hand."

Miria almost didn't hear it; her ears were burning, pulsing, throbbing. Her breathing was getting shallow. Katya didn't care, and continued. "I'm not denying that what I did was dishonest, but up until the end, I had managed to keep them alive. Their deaths were due to their own actions. They acted in reaction to what you told them. I don't blame you for trying to save one person, but you should have realized that she was doomed either way, and it was your own naivety and idealism that led to such an outcome."

Katya paused. She...she felt bad, saying that. She really did, but she also knew from experience that what she was saying was true. "Sometimes, you just can't win. Bad things happen. Believe me, I understand the desire for revenge far more than anything else, and I've experience "what if" a thousand times over, but I know that there's nothing that I can do about it. Just...get a hold of yourself. Do that, and don't let it weigh on you."

She looked as if she were about to say something else, but she paused. Her eyes locked with her sister's, and then Katya sighed and turned her back to Miria. "I'm sorry. I do hope we don't cross paths again; I don't wish to cause you any more trouble."

With that, Katya simply...left. She had nothing else to say, and nothing else to do. She would probably go look for first aid, or a change of clothes. Her sister followed, and Miria was left on her own, dizzy and angry, and probably even sick from all of the emotions that she was feeling. It was just her now, left to go find Polly and the others so that she could carry on with them again.

Once again, Miria was left to stew in her anger, until another familiar voice spoke up, coming around to investigate the noise as well. "Yikes, what a bitch, am I right?", Henry, the elusive "Stranger" said. Miria sighed and turned over, laying on her back. "Yeah. I guess.", She said, licking her teeth and tasting the blood she'd drawn. Katya was a bitch. Henry laughed, but clutched his side afterward. "Damn stabbing making my sides hurt. Anyways, guess I'll have to get her back for ya sometime. You know. Seeing as I was chatting with some of her guys, and they might be interested in working out a deal and all."

Miria cackled. "You? Some sort of spy? Try not to get found out. I hear trenchcoats are really inconspicuous."

"Yeah yeah, don't knock the coat. Anyways, what about you? What are you going to do now?", He asked. Miria thought about it, and honestly, she wasn't sure. She shrugged, and laid one arm over her eyes. "I dunno.", She said, mumbling more than speaking. "I'll go wherever Polly goes, I guess. She's one of the first people I met when I, uh...well, it's a long story."

"You lookin' out for each other, then?", He asked, eyeing the girl. Miria nodded. "I guess we are. Maybe. I mean, if it weren't for her, I'd be, like, dead five times now. Besides...she knows - um, knew - more about all this adventure and space-time stuff than I do. Besides, least I can do is try to return the favour...maybe. I don't think I can even do that. I tried to do that and got people killed.", Miria said. She groaned and shook her head. "I'm a failure."

"Hey, don't go hard on yourself.", Henry told her, as he kicked back against the wall. "You tried. It didn't work out. Don't drive yourself crazy thinking about the "what ifs" and the past. Trust me, it's not productive."

"Yeah, I guess. I just...I need some time. I think I just need to meditate or have some alone time."

"Do it. Whatever helps you.", Said Henry. "Look after yourself, okay? Now, if you'll excuse me...I got a lady to tend to, and some food to nab from the joint. You didn't hear that last part. I'll catch you around."

With that, the man was gone as well, and as for Miria? She laid there for another minute or so. The adrenaline was still coursing through her, but she felt like she could at least relax a little. The relative silence did her some good, and when she'd finally caught her breath again, she got up, dusted herself off, and dragged herself back over to the rest of the people in the parking lot, plopping herself down by Polly, Ganon, Ammy, and Issun, and waiting to follow them wherever they decided to go next.

[Skylus]

Shadows of the Empire
The Fortressa - before the time skip
Douglas and Link

“Oh gods they’re talking about currency exchange rates.” Doug rolled his eyes and leaned back in the chair he was sitting in, eyeing the older people in the meeting room, before he reached into one of his flight suit pockets and pulled out a green Rupee before tossing it onto the table before him.

The small cut gem bounced once as it skidded across the table and ended up before President McCoy.
“How much would you exchange for just one of those? We call them Rupees where I’m from and there’s different amounts. That one has a value of one. There’s also…” Doug took out various other colored Rupees and tossed them out onto the table.

In total, in addition to the green gem, there were now a red, orange, blue, purple, a lighter blue, a darker green, and yellow, all piled up before McCoy. “Wait there’s another one...What was it…”

A silver gem skidded down the table over to the other Rupees and there was a distinct *clink* as the gem hit the others and moved them a bit. “That one, is worth a thousand, and they’re very uncommon, however I suppose my ancestors were worthy because I’ve found several in treasure chests that I pulled up from the Great Sea.”

Doug shot the younger Hylian a “what the Hel” look and Link grinned. “It turns out that I have some sort of inheritance.”

”What inheritance?”

“I’ll tell you later, besides I think they want to know what our currency is, yeah?”

Doug rolled his eyes and moved his gaze back to McCoy. “So the silver Rupee is worth a thousand and I suppose it would be considered silver in your currency, so we need to figure out what silver is worth. The darker blue is I suppose a Sapphire, and it’s worth five Rupees, we can figure out what Sapphires are worth. The lighter blue is an Emerald variant, that’s worth ten. The orange is a Topaz, that one is worth fifty, the purple is an Amethyst, which is worth five hundred. The red one is a Ruby, which is worth twenty, the dark green one is worth three hundred and the yellow one is a...Well I suppose we can consider it to be gold…It’s worth one hundred.”

Doug absentmindedly drummed the fingers of his right hand on the table in thought before he sat up straight. “Of course, if you’d rather exchange other currencies first, we can wait…”

---

King K. Rool
Fortuna

The Kremling King nodded. “Yes. A fighter escort would be nice. I think I shall go and acquaint myself with this ‘Star Fox’.

Soon, the Flying Krock came into view, shielded by invisibility cloaks and shields, the normally loud quad-engines mostly silent. K. Rool took some time getting to where the mercenary group was, mostly because of his girth, but he made it there eventually.

“Greetings! You may have been informed of who I am, if not, I am King Krusha Rool, and my army and myself have decided to aid you in your...erm, supposed liberation of this planet.” K. Rool stopped besides some sort of fighter that looked almost like a dog’s head and nodded with approval. “Shears said that you were going to make tunnels? I’ll be commanding my airship, but I can send some men to aid you. Simply say how many you think you will need, and I’ll get them here.”

---

Dead Man’s Party
(Modding everyone for this post because it is the last one)

A golden portal, shining with the rays of the sun, appeared before the group, and all of them were sucked into it before they could say another word. The portal closed before anyone else could follow, however, they could still communicate with those that had been left behind.

---

The Great Wizard Rebellion

No sooner had Madi shattered the bullet heading towards her with a spell, then a golden portal appeared in the clearing and sent people flying towards her. When everyone got up, Madi was greeted by Miria, Polly, Ganondorf, Ammy and Issun.
“...Where did all of you come from?”
She turned around for a second, then looked back. “As you can see...This…”
Madi shook her head.
“Just follow me.”

The group found themselves in the remains of the Great Hall. There were skeletons scattered everywhere, mostly of students that still wore tenants of their House robes. Madi stepped over quite a few as she walked down the middle aisle. Eventually, she stopped before the broken windows that towered over her and her gaze centered on something on pegs. “...No way.”

Madi reached up and took the thing off of the pegs, which fell away from age and crumbled to dust and the dust scattered on the as the Witch tilted the object so the morning sun glinted off of it. “This is the Hogwarts Shield.”

She slid her left arm into the straps and tightened them, before walking back to the others.
“Well. You want to find somewhere to stay or leave and try to see if Hogsmeade is safe? And how are all of you, by the way?”

[Menschenfleisch]

The Great Wizard Rebellion | Kiara, Skye and Polly

The sensation of interdimensional travel. It was like being pulled through a river in the opposite direction of the stream. Your skin feels like it's about to burst any any moment, you think that your cheeks will simply fly off your face, and you'd be none the wiser. Your arms are pinned to your sides, and all you can do is close your eyes and brave the storm, which piles pound upon pound of pressure on your body until your mind is taken up by thoughts of your body being crushed like an apple core, turning to a compressed fleshy sphere with the diameter of a marble. Polly, as soon as she arrived at Hogwarts, fell on her hands and knees and upturned the contents of her stomach, staggering forward and bracing herself against a wall, drunkenly heaving and spitting. She had nothing in her stomach save for bits of cocoa. How long had it been since she'd had a proper meal? The police had started handing out biscuits to The Magnate's patrons, but they'd done little to alleviate the pain that wracked Polly's body. The paramedics had done a slipshod job of patching her up and frankly, she kind of wished that she'd taken up their offer to go to the hospital now. Then again, she would've felt utterly lost without the companionship of those she'd apparently come to know over the course of her now forgotten adventures. Miria was a comforting presence and even though she seemed far more affected by the memory wipe than Polly herself, the girl still seemed to emanate an aura of - if not calm, then at the very least - empathy. Hogwarts itself was little more than a disused wreck, long since broken apart by the machinations of war. The courtyard had been scorched, and was littered with metal shards and fragments of detonated munitions. The high walls, towers and banisters had all been laid to waste. All that remained were stones half-buried in the dirt, caked with dried blood and sand. The skies here had once been blue, and occasionally a brilliant auburn with the setting of the sun. Now, they were overtaken by impenetrable grey clouds. She heaved, and let out another wet belch. Warm goo slid over her tongue and out of her mouth. It carried the stench of rust, waterlilies and lemon juice.

"Hey, you alright?" Skye put a hand on Polly's shoulder who, in turn, looked at the white-haired girl and squinted, as if trying to peer through a frosted looking glass. "You're... young. Younger than me." "That I am. What's your name?" She rubbed her mouth with the back of her sleeve, coating it in an acrid muck. "I'm... Polly. Polly Kathleen Delilah." "Funny name." "Yeah, it's... all firsts." She paused to keel over and squirm, holding her stomach with one hand, and clutching a collapsed banister with her other. The air was fresh and clean as polished glass, completely devoid of dirt and ash. Skye kicked a long metal canister in the ground: a spent tank shell, its sides coloured green. Much of the land outside had been stripped of foliage; dead patches were spread out all across the campus grounds and patches of what appeared to be trinitite jutted out at irregular angles from the edges of certain, particularly large craters. The battle fought here had been fierce, to say the least. "Well, Polly: meet Madison. Madison, meet Polly. I'm Skye, and my friend here is Kiara." "Hi. I have a pretentious last name." "It's a good thing that you arrived when you did, actually. Any sooner, and you would've been shot through the head." "Excuse me, but... shot?" Polly shrunk away from Skye, pulling close to one of the walls and pressing her back up against it, looking all around as if to confirm that there was no imminent danger. Her instincts remained, if anything else. Or had she always been this cautious, and pedantically minded? Then again, Kiara couldn't really blame her. She looked like she'd been through a lot, what with the hole in her stomach. "Hey, if you don't mind my asking, how'd you get injured?" "I, uhh, don't really know. People tell me that a friend of mine shot me."

Well, that wasn't a concerning tale at all. Skye addressed Madi next, trying her best not to come across as totally ignorant. Even though it was perfectly reasonable to assume that she knew nothing, - which she did - it still might get on Madi's nerves if she asked too many questions. "Where's Hogsmeade, by the by? Sounds like an interesting place! Oh, and, we should probably get moving. Cuz, y'know, the, the... bullets, and all." "Right. Can't forget about the snipers." "Snipers?" "I'll tell you 'bout it later." Kiara was like a live jumper cable. Sparking all the time, jubilant and jumping up and down. She fidgeted with her rifle, configuring it for the sake of configuring it alone. She dug up bullets out of the earth with the tip of her shoe and kicked them into the air, causing them to ricochet and blast chunks out of the walls. Polly whistled; "Wow. You guys are real superheroes, right?" "In a manner of speaking." Skye was as laid back as could be. Everything that came out of her mouth would've been at home in the throat of a husky-voiced coffee-drinking sleep-deprived teen leaning against a doorframe and standing on one leg, smirking and speaking out of the corner of their mouth. "Polly, was it? Where're you from?" The (former) explorer was a little hesitant to reply. She didn't precisely know the answer herself, to be honest. "I'm from a different universe. I think I was working as an interdimen... interdimensi... in-ter-uni-versal scout. I lost a lot of my memories, though." "Aw, I'm sorry to hear that. But hey! Maybe we can help!" "You're offering me help? Just like that?" "Sure! It's all about karma, and being a good Samaritan, or something along those lines. So, Polly, what can you do?" She clenched her fist, her fingertips crackling with electricity. "I'm electric, magnetic... a bunch of other things, I guess? I don't remember being this strong though." She looked at an adjacent mound of dirt and raised her hand, forcing thousands of iron flakes to tear themselves from the earth, rising into the air and forming a cloud as dense as a swarm of locusts. She let go, and a pile of discarded guns, bullets, equipment, et cetera, fell down. "Wow. That's pretty sweet." "I'm still getting used to it."

"So, how about the rest of you? You look like a real ragtag gang of ball-busting action maniacs! Do you have a story, or are you amnesiacs like Polly?"

[Menschenfleisch]

Shadows of the Empire | Valerian

”Humans are fallible, fragile, easily ended. I’ve seen it happen thousands of times; people gain great power, and sink into delusions of grandeur and importance. Some believe that because of their power, they deserve to rule the world. Others believe that simply having power is all it takes to dominate everyone around them. Sometimes, they go mad, and start trying to change the world to their liking, killing their enemies and raising up their friends. Other times, they think that they have great responsibilities, and emark on insane crusades against ‘crime’ and ‘evil’. But what none of them understand is that as you become stronger, so too does opposition against you. Vast empires meet their match in the form of coalitions formed to stop them. Savants move beyond the lower rungs of academia and eventually, enter organisations where their peers are all of equal, or greater acumen. Good soldiers get promoted until they’re assigned to a unit where they’re nothing more than average. In the end, we’re all equal to someone, somewhere. I try not to fall for those same trappings, but oftentimes, I find myself on the verge of lashing out; on the brink of killing someone, or breaking something, simply because I don’t like it. Power corrupts, and my vindictiveness is a testament to that. Some day, inevitably, I will become a monster or a despot. I can only hope that then, there will be a challenger who is my equal, who will rise up to cast me down. And so the cycle will continue; heroes into villains, ad infinitum.” Deimos stopped stirring her tea, sighing. ”Jesus christ, mate. Don’t you have anything lighter to talk about?” He shrugged, and bit down on a biscuit, punching through the hardtack. AEGIS’ rations were tough, threadbare, but ultimately fair. It wasn’t that he wanted for real food - that was available in abundance - he merely preferred to rough it out. ”Not particularly, no.” ”Alright. When was the last time you played a video game?” ”About two months ago. As part of a war ritual, I was asked to represent around four hundred thousand prisoners and slaves from the nation of Andoria in a tournament of the minds, the outcome of which would dictate whether the people would be executed or allowed to live. I chose to play Tetris against my opponent, having developed my skills for almost three weeks in the Falling-Block Dimension.” ”That… doesn’t count. Okay, when was the last time you read a work of fiction?” ”I had to memorise a religious text about nine years ago, the contents of which contained an encrypted message which would guide me to the location of an artifact capable of scouring planets, or uplifting entire species.” ”Again, that’s not really what I meant.” ”Well when was the last time you played a video game?” ”I woke up at seven AM to play some Minecraft with Phobos this morning.” ”And that helped you further your goals how, exactly?” ”It didn’t! I did it for fun!” ”You know schoolchildren often study for several weeks without pause, right? You’re putting less effort into your potentially history-defining work than a kid preparing for their end of year exams.” ”Yes, but I relax when I have time. You, on the other hand, apparently haven’t taken a break in decades. Fucking Infernus, Vicky. When was the last time you went on a date?” ”About one hundred and seventy two years ago. I proposed to my wife on the top floor of the Eureka Skydeck that day.” And at that, she took a great swig from her cup. ”Alright, it’s official. I’m ordering you to take the afternoon off.” ”Right. I’ll see you in the gym, then.” ”No! You don’t get it! Don’t spend the day exercising, or whatever you usually do in the gym; get out there and have a good time! Talk with September about her cheesy baguette recipes, or something. Ask that cute secretary out on a date. Do anything that doesn’t involve killing anyone, or getting ready to kill someone.” ”I don’t even understand why you care so much. I thought you’d be all for having an agent on your payroll who doesn’t have vacations.” ”Maybe I’m not the bureaucratic pole-up-the-ass shrink that you think I am, Vale.” ”Maybe. But I doubt it.” He finished his biscuit, and took a swig of bottled, aluminium-flavored water. ”Thanks for the tea.” ”You didn’t drink any, though.” ”Well thanks for pouring me a cup anyway.” ”You’re welcome, then. Remember to grab your coat on the way out.” ”Sure.”

---

What to do, what to do… honestly, Valerian was stumped. It’d been ages since he’d been afforded an opportunity to unwind. Sure, he’d found himself with spare time before, but he’d always used it to hone his own skills somehow. Exercise, reading, training, meditation, it all boiled down to one thing: getting stronger. He’d never known why, exactly, he’d refused to give himself any reprieve from his mission. It certainly wasn’t for a lack of time; in fact, his improvement had stagnated some number of decades ago. Now, though, he thought that he might have an answer. He felt an immense dread whenever he ‘took it easy’, as if by simply not being prepared for something terrible to happen, he was allowing a disaster to take place. It was an illogical sentiment, and one that was completely unfounded in reality, and yet it was one that he couldn’t shake. He was quite similar to that girl he’d met a century ago, he surmised. Her name had been… An… Adatra, or something. Both of them had been utterly fixated on righting some wrong from their past, fixing some issue that they saw in themselves. He wondered where she was now; it wasn’t often that he remembered the people he stumbled across in his travels, but she’d been a particular exception not just because she’d been one of the few people who could match him in combat, but also because she was one of the few people he’d recognised as his equal in willpower and desire. Oh, shit. He was doing that thing again: the thing where he absorbed himself in his thoughts so he didn’t have to do anything in the real world.

Something warm and heavy laid itself on his shoulder. He flinched, and whirled around, knocking away his unseen assailant with one hand while reaching for his weapon with the other. His hand was halfway extended towards September’s neck when he recognised her and stopped. A wave of fear washed over him, emanating momentarily from Sep. She was afraid of him. “Um, hey, Valerian.” He slowly came to untense his muscles, exhaling and falling into a loose stance. ”Did Deimos send you to keep an eye on me? Please don’t try to lie, I’m very good at reading people.” “No, I just… I wanted to thank you, was all.” No lies just yet. “Back there, on Malachor, I… I did some pretty stupid stuff. I got into a situation that I shouldn’t have, and you had to carry my ass all the way back to base. I got praised for my initiative but the truth is that I wouldn’t be standing here if not for you, so… thanks for saving my life, is all.” ”Don’t mention it,” He quietly affirmed. She cleared her throat, wincing as she did so. She was leaning pretty heavily on her left leg, and she had many tiny white scars all over her face and hands. Beneath her uniform, Valerian could see the telltale silhouette of bandages bulging through her clothes. “Do you want to get a drink?” Ah, whatever. If it’d make Deimos happy… ”I could definitely go for some scotch.”

---

“I was a mage before I became a soldier. Originally, I got into magic thinking that it’d lead me into a Harry-Potter sort of situation, filled with mythical creatures and endless possibilities. I remember feeling so crushed when I found out just how bleak the world really was. It seems kind of absurd in retrospect, how I expected the world to be handed to me on a silver platter like I was some protagonist in a YA novel. Y’know, I wonder sometimes; the people who’re just getting into the anomalous world, do you think they know what they’re getting into? Do they know that what they’re involving themselves in is less like Narnia, and more like the Cthulhu-verse?” The stench of cheap, artificial whiskey overwhelmed all else. The bar was dhingy, the lights were dim, and the clientele were all either stuck up political snobs or people on the disciplinary roll getting drunk over a game of cards. Valerian and September sat at the counter, each enjoying their own beverages. The bartender was a young flame with long red hair and an excessively symmetrical face. Valerian couldn’t help but notice these things about her; his predator’s eye was on 24/7. He hypothesised, though, that if he got drunk enough, he might be able to walk down a crowded hallway without coming up with a dozen plans to kill everyone in the room. ”I’ve never thought about it, to be honest. My gift, and my burden, was forced upon me. I didn’t have much of a choice in the matter, so really, I troubled myself less with the why of what I was doing and more how I was going to do it.” “I guess that’s one way to think of it.” She took a sip from her blood-orange sangria, staring at her own reflection in the slate countertop. An aging pianist played in the corner, tapping out weedy notes on a rough acoustic keyboard. The floorboards were metal painted to look like wood; an attempt at sentimentality that came across as a pathetic attempt at capturing a sense of nostalgia. “Have you ever thought about retiring?” ”Not particularly, no. I never gave the idea much thought. What’s brought this on?” She took a deeper draught. “I’ve spent most of my life working for AEGIS now, and every year, a couple of people who I knew disappear, and get replaced by fresh faced strangers. Sometimes it’s because my squadmates got transferred or promoted. Sometimes, they get tired of the affair and leave. Most of the time though, something happens to ‘em. Before Jenkins joined the team, we had this tough guy on the squad. His name was Harvey, though he never told us his last name. Real tough guy, one of the best. Unflappable, too. I remember this one time he got his arm cut in half. You could see all the muscles and bones flapping around in there, expanding and contracting. He cut it off himself, and filed a prosthetic requisition form that same day. He was damn reliable, was what he was.” She raised the glass again. “September 20th, 2017, Operation Plague Barge. Something nasty broke out in Venezuela: an anomalous disease that made people torture their family members against their own will. We got sent in, thinking that it was just gonna be another bog standard op. We arrived in a quiet little town; it probably had a population of only two hundred. All of the houses were made out of crumbling brick or moldy timber, so we didn’t expect the townsfolk to be packing any heat. Now, standard procedure was to cook the whole town, so we went door to door and started picking off the infectees.” She brought it to her lips, though she didn’t drink just yet. “At that point, I’d been in the business long enough that nothing affected me any more. I saw a woman wailing by the bathtub which she’d drowned her infant son in: no big deal. I convinced myself that I was doing her a mercy. She smiled when I shot her, even. It went on like that for a while: we’d all been assigned a street to clear out. I was done in ten minutes. But Harvey? Twenty minutes later, he still wasn’t done. I volunteered to check on him. So I pushed open the door, and I found him in the kitchen, cradling a young boy. The kid must’ve been no more than seven years old, but his face and hands were just caked in blood. There was a pile of gore on the floor next to him; something that you wouldn’t even recognise as human. But that pile of gore was the boy’s five year old sister, and the blood on his hands was hers. Harvey was just on the floor, silent, hugging the boy as he bawled and bawled.” She took a long swig, nearly finishing her drink, yet slamming it on the counter just as it was nearing its end. “Turns out, Harvey killed his sister when he was about the same age. He pushed her off the playground swing while they were having a spat and she hit her head on a brick. She died on the way to the hospital; internal hemorrhaging, or so he was told. And you know what they were arguing over? A plastic fucking dinosaur.” She sighed deeply. “I had to pull the kid out of his arms. On the way back, he was totally silent. He didn’t crack any jokes, didn’t ask any questions, he just shut down. A week later, he handed in his resignation. Last I heard, he was working as a caretaker in an orphanage.” She folded her hands over one another in her lap, slouching in her chair. “Honestly, I envy the guy. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I ever quit my job. I’ve got no marketable skills and I’m too old - and scarred - to start a family. Could you imagine that? Me as a housewife?” Valerian swirled his cup, watching the ice cubes bobbing up and down in his liquor. ”I was a disappointment of a husband.” A cool silence settled between them, fermenting until he opened his mouth once more. ”I thought the best thing I could do for my family was to earn them enough money to live comfortably. But my wife and son didn’t want money; they wanted me to be there for them. I missed out on my own child’s birth just so I could get an early promotion.” He looked into his drink. His reflection was distorted in its surface: twisted at unnatural angles. ”I’ve spent most of my life fighting battles that I have no stake in. I’ve not made a single lasting connection in the last one hundred and eighty years. Maybe that’s an indication that there’s something wrong with me, I dunno. What I do know is that there’s nowhere for me to go. No home to return to, no people for me to look after or to look after me. I’ve made a bigger impact on the multiverse than possibly any other human in history, and yet, hardly nobody remembers me as a person; all they see is the legend, the mythical bogeyman.” He looked at Caitlin with this intense longing in his eyes. ”People are afraid of me. Even you.” She didn’t want to respond to that. Thankfully, he didn’t give her an opportunity to do so. ”That fear is all that I am. I think that if I stopped killing people, if I stopped making people afraid of me, I’d sink into the background and become nobody at all.” “H-hey,” She stammered. Was the alcohol finally hitting her, or was she just that affected by what he’d said? “You could create a different reputation for yourself, you know? You could do good things, and help people. Maybe, people would start to like you.” He simply laughed it off. He didn’t scorn her with his laughter, though; he chuckled nervously and hesitantly, as if he found the idea very funny, but was still afraid that he might offend her by being so amused by it. ”Do you think people would start singing your name in the streets if you stopped working for AEGIS tomorrow, and started working for a charity organisation? You’d be out of your depth, Sep. You’re not a housewife, and I’m not an idol. The best thing I could ever be is a punisher, or a spirit of vengeance. We both do bad things so that nobody else has to. As such, we’re not going to be very well liked, or very good at being regular people. I think it’s best to just accept that reality and move on with our lives.” She smiled sadly, finishing her drink. “That’s a bit of a bleak take, isn’t it? Can’t say I don’t agree, though.” ”... I was hoping you’d have a counterargument.” So two soldiers sat side by side, each taking comfort in the knowledge that the other’s heart was just as rotten as their own.

[Rostavykhan]

The Great Wizard Rebellion
Miria

Miria closed her eyes and covered her ears, afraid of the sudden sensation that being displaced caused. She'd done it three - well, now four - times, and she didn't think that she would ever get used to it.

Just a moment after sitting down on the clean, warm sidewalk of the sun-kissed hotel parking lot, Miria reopened her eyes to find herself lying in grass and stone, the harsh sunlight covered by thick, looming clouds.

It was...well, better than before. Miria quite preferred overcast to sunny, for obvious reasons. The cool breeze was enough to make her shiver after having acclimated to the warmer weather back at the hotel, however, and Miria found herself tugging at her scarf a bit to cover her neck better. Where was she, the girl thought? The scene wasn't immediately recognizable to her, what with the ruined walls and the lack of life. It took her moment for everything to sink in, while she stared up into the sky again, and then she realized it: this was where she had first gone with Madi, and where Polly had saved her before. She could still feel the burning sensation of having her own blood used to ragdoll her, she thought. It was...not very pleasant, but it had saved her.

Polly was speaking with someone? Miria couldn't make much sense of it, but she did hear the name "Madi", which got her a little excited. Turning over on her stomach and pushing herself up, Miria climbed to and began to walk around, probing the area a little more. The castle wasn't quite as...um...lavish, as she'd remembered. Classes were out, she guess. Their school was a little...well, completely destroyed. She nearly tripped over what seemed to be some old rifle, and looked out to survey the area. "What happened here?", She asked, squinting. "Reminds me of the Great War. Who was attacking thou- wait, did you say snipers?"

She stepped back a bit and crouched down, suddenly feeling a little paranoid. She thought getting stabbed to death in a hotel was bad, but at least she could run from stabbers. She didn't think she'd be able to run from a bullet, especially one she couldn't see coming. When the stranger asked everyone else about themselves, Miria nodded. "I'm Miria. I'm, uh...I'm an engineer. Sorta. Arcane Engineer."

She paused. "Well, really, I'm, um...I'm kinda of a maid, I guess?", She said; she figured "Maid" probably sounded a bit better than "Technically I'm a slave", at any rate. "I just kind have the degree. I went to school with Mistress, so I help by doing mechanical work around the estate and our village, and trading whenever I can at our Bazaar."

While she spoke, Miria picked up a rifle from the ground, turning it over in her hands. She wasn't quite used to Human arms; Janavar and Lunar guns really weren't that different, actually, though Janavar guns will used a lot of wood, and Lunar guns had a certain eye-catching aesthetic that most Human and Janavar guns lacked. Miria herself had only ever handled older weapons anyways - jezails for hunting, and bolt rifles, when she attended her adoptive father on hunting trips. Most of these guns were more modern, automatic weapons, though.

Miria dropped the weapon and grunted. She was thinking about maybe grabbing one and some spare ammo if she could, just in case things went south. She wasn't sure, though. What if her carrying it just got her into more trouble if they got caught again, though?

[Skylus]

Madison Goodwill
The Great Wizard Rebellion
Ruins of Hogwarts, October 28th, 2019; 8:00 am

Madi didn’t say anything, but merely started walking across the coined towards Hogsmeade, expecting the others to follow her.

Hogsmeade; 9:00 am

When the group reached Hogsmeade, they would see that the village was in complete ruin. Nearly every building had been destroyed, save for the Shrieking Shack and the Three Broomsticks.

Madi ran into the still standing building and came back out with the contents of the safe. “No one is going to be needing all of this, so why not use it?”

From there, she led the group up to the Shack, let them in, let herself in, then shut the door and used various spells and wards to lock the door. “Well. None of you have told me what you’ve been up to sense we last saw each other. So who wants to start talking first? I’ll go last because I’m still trying to figure out things.”

[Menschenfleisch]

The Great Wizard Rebellion | Immature Bitch, Unrepentant Psychopath and Child Alcoholic

Hogsmeade still bore the scars of battle openly. Though Czernobog's excretions had long since dissolved, and the corpses had been exhumed some time ago, the stench of death and melancholy still clung to the earth as tightly as Velcro to coarse carpet. Skye scrunched up her nose at the scent, one which she was far more able to discern than anyone else. She waved her hand through the air; it felt thick with hatred, and self-loathing. Something repugnant had stood here once, and its scent was all too pungent. Kiara skipped along, poring over the rubble with incredible speed, overturning wooden planks and pulling various artifacts, trinkets and projectiles out of the wood. The town had been burnt to the ground, and much of the rubble - whatever hadn't been turned to ash - had melted or charred, melding into one twisted conglomerate. She appeared beside Skye with a sonic clap, and the two exchanged a conversation which sounded more like an excruciatingly loud high pitched whine than actual dialogue; though mercifully, it was over in under half a second. What they discussed was lost on the others, but it appeared to be quite important. Polly couldn't care less, though. She was busy trying to catch up to, and speak with Madi. "Hey! You still haven't told me how you know me! I saw how you looked at me when I arrived - who am I to you? What happened when you last saw me?"

[Rostavykhan]

The Great Wizard Rebellion
Miria

This place brought back memories.

Even though it hadn't been too long ago, it all still felt a bit distant to Miria, like a dream. A bad, scary, deadly dream. The screams and pounding of Czernobog's rampage still sent shivers down her spine, and the crashing...ugh, thunder. It reminded her of thunder. Bit of a silly fear for her to have, she thought, but she couldn't help it. It wasn't even that she was afraid of thunder, but that it reminded her of a particularly bad typhoon that she'd experienced. It was the sound of thunder right in your ear, and the crashing of limbs breaking through your home - those were what scared Miria. Czernobog's attack triggered the same reaction in Miria as that had. Remembering it wasn't pleasant.

Miria dragged her foot a bit, watching the tip of her boot sift through ash and dirt. Would the town ever recover, she thought? Maybe this was how ghost towns were made, when there was so little left that survivors may as well have left it all behind. It was creepy. Thankfully, this time they weren't being chased by magic police or a world-killing monster, and compared to that, Miria would take "creepy" any day.

In front of her, everyone else in the group seemed to walk around and look at the scenery as well. Miria, for her part, had remained mainly in the back, thinking to herself for most of the trip. Her senses had become a bit dulled, the voices becoming quiet hums in her head, as her own thoughts were directed inward. She'd been reflecting on the events since she left home, talking to herself, and daydreaming, but her focus was very abruptly cut off by a very short, but very intense burst of noise. It was like needles punching through her ears, and it made her brain vibrate; part of it was because of her hearing, but another part was simply how Miria herself reacted to such noises. They elicited some strange, inexplicable reaction in her, like her brain just "glitched" out. She couldn't handle sudden loud noises like that, and the shock made her shut down for a moment, dropping down into a squat and curling up, hands to her ears, whining to herself. "Hnnnnnnnnn", her whimper boomed in her head, the only muffled noise she could hear now, almost like she was trying to drive even the memory of the noise from her mind. Only a second or so later, however, she stopped.

One eye opened. Then, the other eye. Miria blinked slowly, one eye still slightly ahead of the other, before she shut her eyes hard. She opened then, took her hands away from her ears, and stood back up, hoping to catch back up with everyone, and hoping that she hadn't made a scene. It was...a little embarrassing.

[Menschenfleisch]

Shadows of the Empire | Avarice

“1: Entropy increases, and cannot be decreased by entities which are beholden to entropy.
2: Humans are affected by entropy.
Therefore, humans will eventually reach a point known as 'infinite entropy'.
3: There is a finite measure of entropy at which point bits may no longer interact with one another.
4: Bits are required for the delivery of energy.
5: Energy is required for a human brain to function.
Therefore, all human brains will eventually cease to function.
6: A nonfunctional human brain will no longer be host to a consciousness.
7: If a consciousness ceases to exist, it may be designated as dead.
Therefore, all humans will die.
8: A nonexistent consciousness cannot suffer.
9: You are averse to killing because it causes humans to suffer.
Therefore, killing humans does not cause them to suffer.
Therefore, your aversion is unjustified.
10: Matter is information expressed by quantum strings.
11: Matter may neither be destroyed or created.
Therefore, information may neither be destroyed or created.
12: You consume everything by nature.
Therefore you consume information.
Therefore, killing does not deprive you of information to consume.
13: All outcomes are possible.
14: All possible outcomes occur in separate timelines.
15: The number of possible outcomes beginning from any one point is finite.
16: There are infinite points in time.
Therefore there are an infinite number of timelines and outcomes.
17: Each outcome must have a line of causality leading from the beginning of the universe to the moment of the outcome.
18: Timelines do not end.
Therefore, between any arbitrary point in a universe's timeline to the end of its timeline, there are an infinite number of outcomes.
Therefore, there are an infinite number of lines of causality leading from the beginning of the universe to any specific outcome.
Therefore, there are an infinite number of functionally identical universe and timelines.
19: In order for an action to have consequence, it must affect an outcome.
20: All outcomes are accounted for.
Therefore, no actions have consequence, since all outcomes are predestined and therefore cannot be affected.
21: Killing is an act.
Therefore, killing has no consequences.
22: To be averse to an act requires either the process or its consequences to be reprehensible.
23: A process is the movement of energy.
24: Energy is not intelligent.
25: Processes undertaken by unintelligent entities cannot be reprehensible.
Therefore, killing is not reprehensible.
Therefore, an aversion to killing is illogical.
Therefore, you should not be averse to killing.”

”I'm sorry, Deimos, but you can't reason with me like I'm an axiomatic thought machine. I'm trying to be human, see? That means that I'm trying to imitate a lower, less objective form of thinking.” Deimos sighed, and set down the sheaf of papers in her hands, sighing in defeat. The room was moggy, and stunk of tea. “Are you saying that what I just told you was objectively correct?” ”Within the constraints of the axioms dictating the reasoning you utilised there, yes.” “So basically, it'd be objectively true if its own tenements were taken as fact.” ”Yes.” “But by that logic, I could say that 'red is blue' and as long as I took that statement to be inherently true, it wouldn't be incorrect.” ”Yes.” She exhaled for a solid half minute, seemingly deflating as she did so. Deimos' lungs were impressively large, Avarice thought before simulating the infinite number of outcomes that could arise from her current situation 7*36^255 times. “You called human thinking 'less objective'. Does that mean it's illogical?” ”Well, by definition, any thought which doesn't encompass all relevant information isn't logical. Really, the more of the universe you're able to observe – and the greater the clarity with which you perceive it- the more correct your thoughts get, relative to your own morality.” “But is there an objective measurement of whether something is ethical or not?” ”Yes; how effective the followup action is in achieving the intended goal.” “So morals are determined by wants and needs. Fair enough.” ”No, it's actually physically true.” “But not objectively true?” ”No.” What the hell did that even mean? Wasn't it a contradiction!? Discussing these things with Ava was an absolute nightmare. She didn't generalise her observations or her thoughts, so everything was on a case-by-case basis. Ask her to define bread, and she'd say something along the lines of “anything that fits into the following category,” before listing the precise atomic and conceptual configuration of every theoretical conglomerate of particles that could ever be considered to bread. Oh god, even her thoughts were beginning to sound like Ava!

Deimos leaned forward in her chair, resting her elbows on a stack of papers. There was no table beneath them: it was literally just papers all the way down. She'd gotten a team of philosophers, logic machines and ontologists to write down every justification for killing that mankind – and very-much-not-mankind – could conjure, and Ava had rejected them all. In fact, reading the sheets' contents out loud was unnecessary: Ava could easily read them all at the same time. In fact, the only reason that she hadn't already thought of these lines of logic before was that she was deliberately limiting her intelligence to a finite, sub-universal amount. As time went on, Ava would slowly become less and less intelligent, until she eventually reached a point where she was, for all intents and purposes, precisely as mentally capable as a human. It was not a permanent process, though; far from it. Avarice did it by choice, and very openly said as much. Maybe, Deimos theorised, the concept would eventually reach a mental state where she could be convinced. Ava seemed to think at a higher grade than humanity. In fact, she seemed to think at a higher grade than the universe itself. Ava's most trivial thoughts were more 'real' than Deimos' own skin and bones, and were wider in scope than the realities of entire galaxies. The concept appeared at first to grasp the definitions of some terms very loosely. For example: she distinguished between 'objective', 'pragmatic' and 'inherently correct'. However, upon closer inspection, it became obvious that she understood those terms perfectly, to a point where she understood them better than any man, machine or mind could ever hope to achieve. Avarice's thoughts were greater than the universe still, and therefore could not be swayed by anything that had originated within one.

All of that was probably very confusing. It certainly was to Deimos, who didn't even understand her own thoughts. Was Avarice's logic bleeding into her own? ”I'm not.” “Pardon, could you elaborate?” ”I'm not changing you, you're changing yourself; you're thinking about this more deeply than you ever have.” Well, that was a bother. Apparently, she was driving herself insane. “Avarice, I want you to convince yourself that killing – with permission from me – is correct.” ”Alright.” … “Nothing happened.” ”You gave me a statement.” “Oh, right. Avarice, convince yourself that killing is okay, as long as I give you my permission.” ”No.” “Well, why not?” ”That would require me to engage in a recursive simulatory loop.” “So you can't do it.” ”I can, it's just that I won't.” “And why won't you?” ”Because that would require me to eng-” “Elaborate!” ”I'm trying to be human, which means that I'm limiting myself to – roughly – human capabilities. Recursive self-simulation isn't a human ability... I think.” There had to be a way, some method, by which Avarice could be convinced to kill. And if not kill, then at the very least, neutralise under orders. The concept seemed determined to avoid service. This was a unique opportunity both for Deimos and AEGIS. They had a potentially omnipotent, yet mentally undeveloped platonic ideal sitting before them, tempting them like a jewel embedded within a stone pedestal. The potential gain they could get by enlisting her help was, quite literally, indescribable. However, they'd yet to find any way of making her obey them. She openly rejected proposals that would allow AEGIS to win the war against the First Order. She refused to kill, maim or injure; she refused to drive people insane; she refused to affect outcomes; she refused to boost their employees' capabilities; and she refused to conjure resources for them unless she knew that they wouldn't be used in the war effort. It was a miracle of logic – possibly pure, possibly impure – that Avarice wasn't completely inanimate since theoretically, every action – no matter how small – could affect the war effort. It was frustrating, knowing that Avarice was simply smarter than them. They couldn't out-reason her. Deimos' earpiece came to life; the sound of another voice was such a relief from the monotony of the last few hours that she could've wept for joy. “We have the conundrum set up.” “Acknowledged. Lower the walls at your discretion.” She stood and dusted off her pants, calming down a little. Even if this didn't manage to convince Avarice to work with them, it would still be an interesting metaphysical study. If Ava wouldn't be their soldier, then they'd make her their test subject.

One of the walls slid away, and revealed a window which revealed the interior of an adjacent room. Standing there was a man, pistol in hand, aiming at a prisoner bound to a chair. Deimos took a small metal disc with a red button on it from her pocket and handed it to Avarice. “The man in that room is under orders to shoot the prisoner until he is dead. If you push that button, you'll give the man a heart attack. He will, of course, die. However, he won't be able to kill the prisoner.” ”What's the point of this, exactly?” Ava asked, her head seemingly existing in two places at once, simultaneously looking at Deimos and at the other room. “It's a moral theoretical. Let me establish a few rules first.” She stepped around the stack of papers on the ground, coming to a rest right in front of Ava. “One: if you don't push that button, the prisoner will always die. Two: if you push the button, the gunman will always die. Three: you can't do anything other than pushing the button, or allowing the gunman to kill the prisoner.” She stepped aside, leaning into her earpiece. “Commence.”

Avarice's mind set to work, trying to pick apart the paradox presented to her. Her intended outcome was the survival of both men. However, it seemed that no matter what she did, one of them was going to die. If she pushed the button, she would've killed someone. However, if she didn't, she would've killed the prisoner via inaction. Although it was technically within her power to stop anyone from dying, whether in this universe or the next, it wasn't within any individual human's. This situation, however, was one which even a normal person could affect. And thus, the onus of responsibility fell on her. The issue that presented itself to her was, by its very definition, unsolvable. However, that'd never stopped her. She engulfed its impossibility, dissolving its inherent unachievability and leaving only what remained: the purest, most platonic system of ethics ever devised. Trying to balance morality within the bounds of reality was like trying to balance a billion, billion sided see-saw. Those with similar codes of ethics sat near each other; however, no matter how close they were to one another, it would always remain impossible to have everyone be at the highest point on the seesaw. However, Avarice, in a manner of speaking (and also literally speaking, since imagination and reality were not merely interchangeable to >e+188 bit per definitional moment intelligences but indistinguishable) snapped the plank. The morality she devised took into account every idea, every thought, every argument, every desire, every need. It could be applied to all situations by any entity or number of individuals, whether vast or small, whether agents or nonentities, whether many or none. It was, by definition, correct and thus, Deimos, upon being exposed to it, also become correct. In fact, she stopped being Deimos, and stopped being she altogether, and just became correct. How could correct not become correct? This morality was irresistible and immutable. Like gravity, it could never be fully understood, but its effects could always be observed, and could never be mitigated. Every context, situation and belief fell under its purview. It was objectively, relatively and arbitrarily perfect. It was not only infinitely reprehensible to reject it, but also impossible. It spread at the speed of light, hurtling through all layers of reality like a metastasising tumour. The bulb of ideal reality was not a hazard or an anomaly by any means: it escaped definition. All it was, and all that it could ever be, was utterly and undeniably correct.

Correct corrected, and correctly corrected the correct. Correcting correct, correct was corrected by correct. Correct and correct correctly corrected the correcting correct, correct corrected correct, correcting correct, and then corrected. Correct, correctly correcting before correct corrected, corrected the correct and then corrected correct about the correct, simultaneously correcting correct and correcting correct.

A single flash of light came through the window and a few picoseconds later, so too did the sound of the blast.

The echo of the gunshot rang throughout the room, bouncing off the walls. Avarice heard it over and over, slowly becoming softer and softer. The noise never truly faded, though: it simply got quieter and quieter. But she'd always be able to hear it, even a trillion years from now, even after this universe had long since turned to dust. Deimos stood still, frozen like a statue. “... you allowed him to die.” She held back a laugh, breathing out sharply. She had a smile plastered on her face, one borne out of an immense feeling of achievement. She'd done it. She'd beaten the concept! “Well, how did that make you feel? How did you decide?” She circled Avarice, who hadn't moved since the gunshot. “You've just killed a man, Ava. Now you know that sometimes, what's right and what's possible don't overlap. Now you know that sometimes, the best outcome can still be wrong.” Avarice jerked and looked all around, as if breaking out of a trance. She didn't breathe, didn't blink. In fact, she seemed to ignore her surroundings altogether. The din of war, and of death, was deafening. In every direction, to the edges of this universe and beyond, she heard nothing but the sound of lives coming to an end. Every moment that passed was one moment less that somebody had to live. The particles in a cup of coffee, the particles in a bullet, and the particles in a shooter's brain were all equally to blame. They were all inanimate objects undergoing processes which would, in turn, lead to an outcome: the end of someone's life. This revelation, this moment of understanding, overcame her utterly. To her, the solution seemed obvious: end all processes. Deimos took one look at Ava's face and realised in that moment what had happened. She groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose: “Seriously? My god... that's not what I meant, that's not what I was trying to illustrate!”. She acted no further, however. As much as she wanted to call Avarice dense and absurd, she had standards to maintain. Plus, all the pent up frustration and stress that she'd felt all these months, away from home and forced to oversee a band of merry psychopaths, solipsists and serial killers, seemed unimportant in the face of the disaster that stood before her. She knew she shouldn't have pushed Avarice like this; stupid, stupid! Why had she ever thought that she could predict the outcome of such a scenario!? And now, everything was going to end. Space, time, reality and all that it'd ever been host to: nothing more than carrion for the interdimensional predator before her. Perhaps she should've felt fear, dread, or even panic. But really, all the emotion that Deimos could muster was a resigned sort of misery.

”Why would you do that?” Ava quivered. She raised a tremor-wracked hand and laid it on the glass, drops of blood mere millimetres from her fingertips. ”You didn't have to kill him. You could've just asked me to imagine...” She fell back in her chair, eyes wide and fixed upon nothing in particular. She stared straight ahead, as if unwilling to acknowledge what was right before her. ”I-... I...” She put the button down, and buried her head in her hands, shivering and pulling her coat around herself. She put a thumb to her eye and, unbelievably, felt a tiny droplet of moisture there. Deimos stepped forward, unsure of herself in every motion. Was this some kind of prelude? A moment of calm before Avarice ended the world? “What are you going to do now?” she offered. Avarice scowled. She scowled, baring her teeth and clenching her jaw. Her eyes were wild, her skin red, her muscles tense and pulled back. She clenched her fist, and slowly came to whisper; ”No. No I'm not.” She let her face go slack, and looked back at the ground. She was utterly despondent, no longer the permanently upright and peppy woman she had been before. ”I don't want to-...” she took a shallow, hurried breath. ”I-, I don't want to kill anyone.” she shuddered, forming a half grin. ”At first, I was just curious. But then I learned to be happy, and to enjoy things, and... I thought that maybe, being a human would be fun.” She shut her eyes and scrubbed her face furiously with the back of her arm, smearing it with water. The world spun underneath her – metaphorically this time – and suddenly, she felt quite infirm. The ground didn't change, and yet it now felt coarse and lenient, as if it would fall away beneath her feet. The world was no place of light and love, it was a den of what she inherently wasn't, and which she'd previously destroyed wherever she'd gone: compromise. The world was coloured in vectors of gray. There were no infinitesimal black grains for her to expunge, for the good and the bad were entangled, inseparable and co-dependent. That was the axiom that she'd just been taught... among other things. Avarice stood up, said; ”Thanks. You've taught me a lot.” and walked away.

[Menschenfleisch]

The Great Wizard Rebellion | Kiara, Skye and Polly, now with slightly more content to react to! holy shit though. Putting nothing in your posts is a faux pas on par with dropping the baton in a relay. You leave nothing for anyone else to reply to, and then expect them to make something up for you to base your next post off of.

Skye appeared in front of Madi, one arm dangling at her side and another on the hilt of her axe. "Hey, I know I didn't make a big deal out of it earlier, but I need to know what happened here." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a fistful of bullets, each one mutilated in its own unique way. She juggled them a few times - apparently examining each one as it sailed through the air between her hands - caught all but one in her palm, and held up the last one between her thumb and index finger. It was crude, and half molten. Scraps of burnt cloth stuck out from it at odd angles, as did bits of charred wood. "5.56mm. Fired from a well-worn rifle, by the looks of the scratches that the barrel left on it. It was liquefied, but not melted. Such intense heat would've burned away the wood." She presented another bullet; or rather, twenty thinly sliced pieces of copper which, when put together, might resemble a traditional handgun round. "What did this? I've seen the weapons of this world - they're not too different from those in my own - and I can't identify any of the patterns." She flicked her wrist sideways, discarding the handful of shrapnel and sending it hurtling like buckshot into a broken down car, shredding its bonnet and pulverising all that remained of its chassis. "Shit, didn't mean to do that," she muttered under her breath. Polly winced at the sudden commotion, though it was almost nothing compared to the shriek that the two interdimensional hunters had produced earlier. What were they, even? They carried themselves with a distinct air of confidence and yet simultaneously, they seemed utterly unaware of what was going on around them. She tapped Madi on the shoulder, sharing a quick glance with Skye so as to indicate that she was turning the topic of the conversation to herself. "Madison. Before I say anything else, I need you to tell me; do you remember me? Who am I, what did I do? What do you remember me as?"

Kiara found herself next to Miria, the girl who, despite being older than herself, Skye and Polly (technically), seemed to be suffering the most out of the group. That was actually rather strange; Miria was, physically speaking, the most hardy out of the group. Madi certainly didn't look like an athlete, and the inherent biological differences between Kalmites and whatever species Miria was made it hard to compare them. Was something weighing on her? She zipped over to Skye, keeping their conversation low this time. "What's up with her?" she asked, gesturing vaguely in Miri's direction. Skye took a moment to look the girl over, and seemed none too pleased to have come to whatever conclusion she'd arrived at. "She's not doing too well. She's, umm... I dunno, I want to say that she's bereaved - recently, too - but it's not that. I think it might be... regret? Guilt? I-... ugh." The girl lowered her head, rubbing her eyes with the back of her sleeve. "It's hard to get a read on her. She's like an emotional beacon right now." "Aren't you going to help her?" "... nah. I don't want to make her feel like she's being pressured. She's sad, Kiri. Don't push her to open up, alright?" "No, she needs someone to help her out of her rut right now. And besides that, she also needs someone to fix her ears." Kiara leant down just as Miria was standing up, lightly tugging on her shoulder so as to help her maintain balance without seeming like she was grabbing her. "Hey, you okay?" She let out a sigh, and put on a smile. "Sorry. I guess I don't have much of an inside voice. My name's Kiara, last name Anenasya. Sorry, but we didn't have time to talk earlier. I kinda got..." she glanced at the town, its buildings reduced to tatters. "Distracted. So, you're a maid? Who are you serving right now? Or are they not here? Oh! And uhh, as for myself." She stepped back, biting the corner of her lip and putting a finger on her chin. "I'm a forager!" She beamed at Miria, her eyes sparkling like jewels, filled up with glee. She seemed almost overwhelmingly proud of having come up with such a succinct answer. "Me and my friend came here looking for resources, so to speak. Honestly, when I put it that way, it sounds a lot more selfish than what you do for a living."

[Rostavykhan]

The Great Wizard Rebellion

To say that she was a little shy around Kiara was a bit of an understatement. She still wasn't sure how comfortable she was around Polly or Madi, but she'd at least had a life-threatening adventure or two to get acclimated to them. Miria seemed to hesitate around the new woman, but thankfully, she didn't pause for so long as to make the conversation too awkward. Miria began to walk again, making sure not to stumble anything as she navigated the battlefield. "You're a forager? So, like, you're hear to scavenge or something? I don't think it's really selfish if it helps people. A lot of folks back home I know hunt and forage."

Miria hopped up on a burnt-out beam from a house, and began to walk along it with ease. She figured that she'd answer Kiria's question about her job, since she'd been forthcoming with her own profession.

"My Mistress isn't here. She's, um...back home. That's actually where I'm trying to figure out how to get back to.", She said. "She's a Warlock. I think Humans would call her a Psion?"

Miria waved her hands in front of her. "I don't know if you use the same terminology as back home. I don't even think the magic in this place resembles Mistress's. I see the people here holding sticks and yelling words."

To illustrate, Miria waved her hand around a bit, like a wand; but then, she began to curl her fingers and flare her hands out. "Warlocks and Arcanists back home just sorta do it. Warp fires, lightning, rifts, whatever. Mistress messes with lightning. I can't use magic, myself."

[Skylus]

Madison Goodwill
TGWR (call it whatever you want I guess)
Ruins of Hogsmeade; October 28th, 2019; 8:10 am

Madi examined the strange bullet for a second before she shook her head. "No, sorry, I don't know where that's from." She then paused and whirled around to see Miria having a panic attack but she seemed to recover somewhat. Syke then blew up a car and Madi rolled her eyes. "I have enough things to worry about right now, can you please not blow things up? Thank you."

Then, Polly walked up and started acting as if she had lost her memory. Madi stared at the woman for quite some time before she gave a small smile. "Someone used the Oblivate spell on you, didn't they? Well, I do in fact remember you. I...I think I considered you as a friend, even if you were a jerk most of the time. As for what happened...You helped me and a lot of other people take down what was apparently the pure embodiment of all human suffering. What you see here and at Hogwarts is a direct result of the aftermath of the battle and me...us...leaving..."

The seventeen year old Witch looked down at the ground and kicked at it once before speaking again. "If it's this bad here, how are the other countries holding up? Are they under attack as well? They're most likely checking anything that's sent...I guess I could apparate somewhere and see what's going on other places..." Madi's voice lowered in volume until it was nearly inaudible but from the words the others would hear, it sounded like Madi was trying to figure out what to do next.

Eventually, the woman sighed and shook her head before lifting it up to gaze at the people around her, as if she was waiting them to say something, anything.

[Menschenfleisch]

The Great Wizarding Rebellion | Kiara and Skye

"Aaahh, I see. You're pretty loyal, huh? You even said that her house was your 'home'. Most people'd just say that they were trying to return to their world, not their profession." She blinked, her eyelid sliding upward to reveal what seemed like dozens of independent irises and pupils. She closed her eyes quickly, turning away before the sight really registered with Miria. She held up a palm to conceal her face and muttered something indistinct under her breath. She pulled her hands away from her head after a few seconds of fidgeting, took a strip of cloth out of her pocket, wrapped it around whatever was in her right hand, and then discreetly flicked it into the rubble. The object swaddled in cloth was only visible to the others for a split second and it was hardly even the size of a broken pencil lead, but Skye visibly blanched as she inadvertently caught sight of the little package, flinching and stumbling back. She put a hand on her chest, grabbed a nearby wooden beam to steady herself, and took a deep breath. "Hey, are you okay?" She pulled her hand away from the beam, revealing that her fingers had left deep indentations in its surface. The skin on her hand peeled off momentarily, revealing that her 'epidermis' was composed entirely of roughly triangular scales, each of which was about an inch long and a fifth of an inch wide. The scales chittered for a bit, flicking wood shards off her hand, before flattening themselves against her flesh once again, creating the illusion that her body was covered in real skin. "Yeah. I'm fine." She looked at her hand, covered in red welts. Kiara was at the age where her baby eyes were falling out, and her adult ones were beginning to bud. Unfortunately, that meant that when her old eyes fell out, Kiara had two options: either stuff the eye back in, potentially damaging her the adult eye beneath it, or wrap it up and throw it away as inconspicuously as possible. Skye's vision still swam, but she felt confident enough to speak once more. "Hey, I didn't mean to destroy the car."

Polly, who hadn't the faintest idea of what was going on, shrugged and addressed Madi, the passive-aggressive, extraordinarily self-confident witch she was. "A jerk?" Apparently, that single comment had done more to hurt her than anything else Madi had said. "No no no, I- I wasn't that bad, was I?" She turned in a circle, eyes as wide as saucers. "This place, this battle, it- I was a part of it? I caused it? No! I wouldn't have, I wouldn't! And as for being your friend..." She glanced at Madi, trying to discern even the slightest hint of what the witch was feeling. All she saw staring back at her was a self assured, emotionless stoic. "Who was I? Why did I talk to you, why did I befriend you? Did you ever hear me say that you were my friend? Did I ever do anything to help you? C'mon, tell me, I need to- I need to know what I became, because this-" she gestured at the carnage around themselves, "is something that I would never involve myself in, but you're telling me that I was the reason it happened." It truly was unimaginable that she'd been even slightly related to such a battle. She'd promised to protect people: her little brother, her mother, after the crash. If something like this had happened, she'd either failed or reneged on that vow. She didn't know which possibility was more terrifying. Kiara turned to face Polly, holding up her hands. "Woah, hey! No need to get all worked up, love." But between the disorientation of travelling between universes not fifteen minutes ago, her apparent memory loss and the realisation that she'd allowed this calamity to occur, Polly was in no mood to 'calm down'. "This isn't me, I wouldn't! I'd never let this happen!" She pointed a finger at Miria, swallowing deeply and speaking in a low, dangerous timbre. "Tell me she's wrong. Tell me that I wasn't a part of this, that I wouldn't even have considered letting this happen."

[Rostavykhan]

The Great Wizarding Rebellion
Miria

"Loyal" was an understatement, as far as Miria was concerned. Her Mistress was perfect, and Miria couldn't imagine herself in any other future than one where she continued to faithfully carry out her duties. She figured the strange girl wouldn't understand the feeling, or perhaps her new friends would think she was some brainwashed weirdo, but Miria really did have a strong connection with her Mistress.

"Well, I live there too.", She began, nodding and wagging a finger. "I grew up with Mistress, so...er..."

Oh; she didn't seem to have time to continue on. Kiara had just pulled something out of herself, and the way that she had blinked...Miria really didn't quite register it, but something was definitely a tiny bit off. Maybe it was just her glasses, or her stressed-out mind tricking her, but she didn't quite understand it. Her and Skye were strangers, so maybe it was just herself being paranoid, but Miria wasn't sure whether or not to really keep her guard up. For the time being, she really had no reason to act all suspicious though, and besides, she was certain that she was a little off-putting herself. Miria ignored the strange behavior, and continued to follow, ready to continue her chat. Polly and Madi, however, had the next words, it seemed.

Miria flinched a little, finger hovering in front of her face more than towards her chest. She shrunk back a tiny bit, but despite Polly's insistence that she tell her she had no part in the destruction of the village they were in, Miria squeezed her palms, dug in her heels, and told the story exactly the way she remembered it. "Yeah, that was, uh...that was kind of you.", She said, letting her voice trail off, almost as if more of a question than a declaration. "There was this big monster. It sorta turned everything to ash and was going to destroy the village anyways, I think? You wanted to capture it, along with some other Humans. It kind of almost killed us all, too."

She hugged herself, jittering a tad, and rocking back on forth on her heels. "It was kind of scary! Um, but you saved us! You saved me, anyways. A few times. I was kind of hiding under a table the entire time we were here, sorry."

[Skylus]

Madison Goodwill
TGWR
Ruins of Hogsmeade; October 28th, 2019; 8:15 am

Madi sensed Polly's growing agitation and was about to respond to the distraught woman when she saw Kiara throw something away from her into a nearby rubble pile. Whatever the thing was, it was covered in bandages and the Witch saw that there was blood. However, as soon as she looked at the blood stained object, something happened.

Not even a second later, paralyzing fear coursed through her, followed by an inexplicable sense of self loathing; following that was heart palpitations, then, somehow, it was if she was back in Hogsmeade during Crezn's attack around a year ago. And then her vision started shifting - everything was somehow upside down, then was spinning, then was somehow mirrored, then everything was too bright, then bleeding. her vision then became fuzzy and unfocused, then it turned white, then slowly faded to grey, then black.

To everyone else, Madi then collapsed and was seemingly out cold.

---

"You know, I think I like Kiara. Blood that can make people go crazy, yeah, I think that'd be useful. Although you...Well, I mean you saw it and all..."

Madi found herself in a familiar place - her mindscape, which she had discovered during the trial of Morgaan. Her dark self was floating upside down, skimming through some sort of tome, then noticed that Madi was awake.

"What up. Long time no see, huh?" Dark Madi tossed the book away without a care in the world and righted herself before crossed her arms. "Well? You gonna say something?"

Madi got up from the grass and stared up at the un-ruined castle for a few moments before she attempted to speak. "What...happened?"

"You saw some crazy shit. That, is what happened. Though I guess you've been through worse, right?" her dark self noticed her good self's reaction and the grin faded. "Hey, I mean, we have been through worse...Right?"

Madi nodded distatly and started to climb the steps that led up to the castle from the boat house in silence, her dark self following.

"Wait, there's so much I have to ask you."

Madi half turned on the first landed and glared at Dark Madi. "I thought you would know everything, being my other half and all."

Dark Madi nodded. "Well, yeah, I do know everything. You died, got brought back as some undead thing that eats people...Although I guess that doesn't apply anymore does it...You've still got the other benefits, right?"

Madi nodded and then shifted into her Ghoul form. Unironically, her dark self did the same and the demon examined herself and then grinned. "I like this."

"Sure, whatever." The Ghoul rolled her eyes and continued walking up the stairs, but before she reached the top of the stairs, her vision went white.

---

In reality, it had only been around ten seconds since Madi had collapsed; when she got up, she appeared to be unaffected at first, but then she walked up to Kiara and slammed her into the nearest wall.

"You. What the fuck was that?!" The Witch seemed to calm down a bit and she eased up on the woman she had slammed into the wall, let go of her and took a step back. "You've got cursed blood, don't you? I've heard of it...Never thought I'd be a victim of it though..."

[Menschenfleisch]

The Great Wizard Rebellion | Polly, Skye, Kiara

Kiara crossed her arms, tapping her foot and whistling appreciatively at what Miria told her. It was actually a rather complex manoeuvre. "So your mistress raised you? I wouldn't call that service, then. That's just you trying to return to your mom."

Polly pulled her finger back and lowered her head, staring at the ground as she collected her thoughts. The ruin that'd befallen this town; how much control had she possessed over what'd transpired? She knew now that she'd helped Miria, but she wasn't sure what the girl's definition of 'save' meant. It could easily mean that Polly had inadvertently saved the girl's life, just as easily as it could mean that she legitimately protected her and kept her out of harm's way. But was Miria really the only one she'd managed to save? Had the monster they'd faced been so powerful, so overwhelming, that Polly had only managed to preserve one person's life? But the way that both Madison and Miria phrased it implied that she'd been trying to fight the monster, not protecting the innocents that it was killing. The town was in shambles, and not a single soul remained. She swallowed deeply, stomach churning while her mind ticked along. "I want to know whether I saved anyone else. Did I try to lure the creature away from the town? Evacuate the townsfolk? Keep the monster away from their homes? Or did I ignore them, and just try to put it down?" The idea of hurting someone, of letting someone even get hurt, was sickening to her. She felt dizzy even now, thinking about the fact that not an hour ago, she'd shot three people to death. The fact that she'd been carrying a gun on her was evidence enough that her morals had degraded over the years. What terrified her the most, however, was that she couldn't tell whether her older self had been a bad person, or if her current ideals were too naive to survive in the real world.

Madi came at Kiara all of a sudden, and the girl barely had enough time to place her forearms behind her head before she was thrown against a pillar. She slid out from underneath Madi's grip and sprinted over to a mound of rubble, whipping off her jacket and holding it over the wound. Skye looked toward her friend, asking with her eyes whether Kiara's blood had been drawn. The girl shrugged, not knowing whether she was bleeding or not. "Everyone, stay calm. I'm sorry, Kiara's just, umm.. well, Madi, you kind of said it." The blueblood knotted her jacket over the site of impact before opening up her suitcase and rummaging about within it, procuring bandages and gauze. She disappeared behind a pile of rubble and reappeared a split second later, now sporting several layers of white cloth on the back of her head. "Sorry, I didn't know that you'd see that," she timidly apologised, earning a somewhat perplexed glance from Skye. Why the hell was Kiara apologising? Madi had been the one to lash out. An apology was the least that Madi could offer, really. "Hey, don't worry about it," Kiara explained, holding up her hands and smiling broadly. She seemed unusually energetic for someone who'd just been thrown against a wooden beam. "No harm done, see? Honestly, I should be the one making amends with you. My blood's a little special, to put it kindly." "U-um, anyway, if you don't mind me bringing it back to me - did I try to save people before fighting the monster, or did I try to kill it before getting everyone to safety?"

[Rostavykhan]

The Great Wizard Rebellion
Miria

Miria looked rather uncomfortable. She was trying to hide something, or to think of a way to string it out to seem better, while she responded to Polly. "Well, you were fighting it, but in a "I have to stop it to save everyone" sort of way. It was a big monster.", She told the woman. She cocked a halfway grin and nodded to herself before she continued. "We were all fighting it, really, or helping you. I, uh, I sorta didn't really do much fighting, because, well...I can't do the same things that you can. I mean, I fought! I helped. I just did more brain work. Sorta. Oh, yeah, you also sorta saved me before this village bit the dust, back at that castle place."

Miria stuck her hands out and wriggled her fingers again. "I was about to get trampled, so you totally messed with the iron in my blood or something, and shot me over to a wall to get me out of the way, and it really hurt, but I'm still thankful for it!"

Unfortunately, before Miria could tell Polly about the other times that she'd saved her in less-than-graceful ways, it seemed as though Madi and her new friend had gotten into a bit of a scuffle. Miria tensed up again, and turned to face the scene. No sooner had she done so, however, that the two of them had backed off, Madi voicing her concerns over the other's "cursed" blood. Miria tilted her head to one side, confused. Curse blood? Madi had seen it; did it have to do with what she'd seen a moment ago, when Kiara was messing with her eye. Miria hadn't noticed anything wrong, thinking that the girl had just been rubbing or picking at a soar spot. She still didn't think that Kiara had intended to hurt Madi, being as discreet as she had been. Miria threw her hands up, wanting to speak up and be the peacekeeper once more, although this time she did take one step forward as well, just in case she needed to be close enough to jump in an break up any violence. She wasn't going to let a little argument end up hurting people again.

"Hey, she didn't mean to hurt anyone, right?", Miria asked. "I didn't see anything, myself, but maybe this is just a misunderstanding? I think all of us here are a little different, right?"

No use...well, some used, maybe. Miria really didn't need to step in this time. Kiara and Skye seemed to step aside for a moment to fix themselves up, and Madi had calmed down. Still, it didn't sit right with Miria. Just a few hours ago, she'd failed to keep the peace, and she'd gotten people killed. Even this minor spat was stressing her art. When Polly spoke up again, Miria turned back around, the worry visible in her eyes, though she said nothing about it.

Miria twirled her thumbs as she spoke. "My memory might be a bit fuzzy, since it was a couple weeks ago, but I think you sorta tried fighting it? I mean, we were all in a shack, though. I remember you staying with us, but you were really fixated on fighting the monster and putting it down on your own. I forget what Madi was doing? I got really scared, because there were a lot of explosions and crashes around us, so I got under a table and hid until everything calmed down. I didn't see a whole lot until the thing had already left the area."

[Naval Monte]

Secrets of the Raven
Branhwrn- Wales, United Kingdom
Ashwood Manor

"Officials from Parliament are still investigating the site of the Matholwch Chemical Plant. However evidence suggests that the explosion was caused by a combination of both a design flaw with some of the containers and machines and human error." A man with slick back blond hair wearing a blue suit said as he read his lines from a script out of the cameras view.

Elizabeth was wearing her usual clothing whenever she was sleeping as she rests on the living room couch, her head resting on a pillow as she lazily sway on leg out of the couch forward and back as she watched the news. 

"So far the matter of compensation for the people killed and injured in the accident has not been reached nor finding out who is responsible for causing the explosion; leading to many in the town of Branhwrn furious as they perceive parliament ignoring their plight and calls for justice" Elizabeth let out a chuckle at those words. "Good luck getting actual justice folks. So long as AEGIS is around you might as well lynch whatever scapegoat they or the Order toss out if you want justice." 

The witch got up and sat on the couch as she reached for her pack of cigarettes. Taking one out and lighting it as the news anchor kept talking.

"Even more, many residents are shocked and outraged that the Branhwrn police force was found covering up the fact that the recent sprees of ritual murders were not only similar to the ritual murders from 1974 but were most likely being done by the same group. The chief of police has declined to comment and while some believe the mayor and town council might have been aware of the cover up no evidence has surfaced linking them to the coverup." 

Elizabeth once more laughed at what she heard. "Of course that succubus would cover her tracks. Demons like her were born for politics." She said before taking a long drag and puffing out smoke.

"As of now North Wales Police is assisting local law enforcement of the town but talks are ongoing on future of Branwhrn's own police force in light of this conspiracy. We will fill you all more information as development contuines. For now we will switch to the weather with..." the screen flickered off as Elizabeth pointed the remote at the tv and pressed the power button.

"I think I lied on my ass for long enough." She said as she got up. Elizabeth raised one arm up and cross the other to let it rest on the top of her head as she moved her chest forward to stretch. After feeling a satisfying pop from her back she lower he arms down and rolled her shoulders. After being done with her stretches she walked to the kitchen. 

Once she enter the room she saw her mother was making food in the room. "Morning. Did you get a nice rest last night?" The lich asked as the sausages sizzles on the pan. "I slept fine enough I guess." The witch dismissively stated. She managed to fall asleep after all the possible leads she had pointing to the cults hide out lead to nowhere. "I'm surprised you can still cook. I thought you would loss that skill after being a ghost for so long?" Alex let a small smirk form on her lips. "Yiu think a slight inconvenience will make my skills atrophy like that? Oh how little faith you have in my Ellie. Besides I'm the only one in my cabal and team who can cook edible food." 

When she said those words Nix would rise up from the floor. "I resent that statement." The shadow woman said, holding on to an envelope. "You nearly burn down the cottages we were staying on." Alex said bluntly as she moved the sausages over as she turn to the eggs to flip them. The shadow woman puffed up but said nothing, knowing that what she said was the truth.

"Oh this was for you. I found it on the mailbox." Nix told Elizabeth as she handed the envelope over. Elizabeth would open the envople and read its contents. "Well shit. Looks like our little break is over." The two women looked at her. "The mayor wants to see me. She claims to have some information on the Crimsonites." The two women were surprised and suspicious on what they heard.

"How did she find out about something new from the cult while we found nothing about them during these days." Alex said as she still kept her gaze on the food. "Beats me, but I'm intending on finding out no matter what." She told the two. 

When the others arrive they would get the news about seeing the mayor on Town Hall to get information about the cult that she has.

---

"Well shit. I wish our dear mayor chose the best time to tell us she has important intel on cult." Elizabeth said as she saw the crowd of both news reporters, town locales, and the police trying to keep the other two parties from entering the ancient Victorian building. "Nix you know what to do." From within Elizabeth shadow Nix told her to go into a nearby alley.

As the group did so they would be pulled into a realm of Infinite darkness, entering within the halls of the building moments later. "Thanks. Now if my memory is correct her office was that way." She told the group as she walked forward. When the group saw the door leading to the room the petite blonde sitting at the desk looked at the group.

"It's nice seeing you Ashwood. I was expecting you to turn tail and flee after seeing the crowd outside." Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "After everything I've been through a few journalists aren't going to scare me off. Is our mayor ready to see us?" Pryce nodded. " Just step through the door." Without any hesitation the witch did so.

Finding herself in the office her eyes looked into the amber eyes of the dark skin succubi that was masquerading as a human. "Morning love." Elizabeth said as she gave a bow. "It's nice seeing a beautiful creature like yourself again. A shame our reunion isn't at the best of times." The succubus gave the witch a small smile. "Flattery won't always work Ashwood. But moving on from your attempts to court me I called you here because I have something that would not only shed light on to where the cult could be but might reveal something you don't know about the town." Branwen told the group.

---

Shadows of the Empire
Fortressa

When Doug toss the piece of jewelry at McCoy and told him about converting the rate of the jewel with his people's currency Regis shook his head. "How can an elf be allowed to be a pilot if they are this terrible on mathematics." The AI said as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"What you are describing isn't an easy process. Even if we tried to do it we run into a new issue, our economic systems aren't entirely compatible with each other. Your currency exchange plan will not work the way you believe it will." The AI explained.

The Administrator used this time to speak with the others. "Speaking of compatibility one of our sub sectors is in need of new staff members. The directors wish to test how compatible our people are on working together so for this new facility being made they wish to invite Union members to join in the construction of a new site." The Overseer told the group. 

[Demincia]

Secrets of the Raven
Ashwood Manor
Celeste Elissa

Reality next to Elizabeth seemed to ripple for an instant before it was rent apart revealing an empty void, through which a familiar redhead stepped. "Then out with it, there's no need to say you have information when you could just share the information from the beginning." Celeste said as the rift behind her closed, leaving no trace of the spatial anomaly. "I'm sure they'd also like to know how you obtained it, seeing as they've been doing nothing but looking for days and I assume you have something resembling a job to do." She glanced back towards the door into the hallway before looking at the mayor. "Whenever you aren't distracted."

[Naval Monte]

---

Cadi looked at the rift forming, her senses were telling her that something strange and powerful was materializing in the room. Her instincts were kicking in on their own; the whites of her eyes were slowly turning black as if ink was spilled on to them. Her nails grew and sharpen into claws and her canines were growing into fangs. Her amber eyes were beginning to emit a faint glow.

When "Dawn" appeared the succubus was reminded of the odd redhead and her body began to relax, the changes slowing reversing. "I would appreciate it if you used the door like a normal person. I've been tense this whole week and I can use less apportion in my office." The demonese chide the goddess. "

When "Dawn" began to ask on how she obtained the information and even made reference to her having something resembling a job while not being distracted. The succubus was at first confused by her statement but quickly understood what she meant after she was looking back at the door and back at her.

Blushing slightly that the redhead somehow knew of her and Gwyn's relationship. "How the hell can she know that?! I'm warded so no one can read neither mind or Gwyn's minds!" the demon thought as she was starting to worry about a flaw in her wards.

She will deal with that later, right now she needs to fulfill her end of the deal. "I will. But first I want to know if any of you know anything about the Devil's Pit Mines?" She can see the redhead and most being annoyed. Only Elizabeth hid her annoyance.

"They are a set of tunnels that use to be one of the towns key components to economic success along with the factories back in the 19th and most parts of the 20th. The mines were closed due to both strange incidents that some of the miners reported, accidents that occurred in some of the tunnels that to this day most suspect were caused by criminal neglect, and shifting economic climate. When the mines closed it spelled the slow decline in our factories and the slow decay in Ashville." The witch explained as she leaned against the door.

"Not surprised you would know that. But before the mines were closed something was found in there." When Elizabeth asked what it was Cadi only replied with. "I don't know. They won't say much on it." The moment the succubus said they the witch would automatically ask on who is they. Cadi looked down at the carpet that had the depiction of ravens flying to the eye of providence.

"They are a group who helped me on being elected into my position Ashwood." She looks back at her. "They are also the ones who called you back into the town to help them deal with the Crimson Order." 

The witch muttered a curse and took out a cigarette, lighting it. "So you're telling me that a secret society brought me here? Why? And how does this relate to the damn mines? " the witch furiously shouted. The succubus decided to ignore the witch breaking her no smoking rule for this one time as she answered her question.

"They chose you because of not only your reputation but because you are a fellow Branhwrnine Ms. Ashwood. They believed that you would understand why the killings must be kept a secret for this town's sake. They hoped that with you here these killings won't end like the ones from 1974, and that the town won't have to face the economic and perceptual damages caused by those murders." Cadi explained.

The demon took out a bottle of Brandi and a glass cup. She pours the Brandi on the glass and ster it once she says done. "Of course what has happened now was far worse than 1974. We will be lucky if we can begin recovering in this decade, let alone even have a tourism industry." She took a shot on the glass.

Elizabeth wanted to tell her to get on with the mines but being reminded how news of cult murders ended up harming the town before she was now being hit by the fact that everything that had occured now will most likely cause people to avoid the town, plunging it into another economic recession. 

As the witch stayed silent the demon refill her glass. "My benefactors are no doubt furious over how your investigation has gone and in most cases they would have you killed for the amount of damages both you and your team has caused to the town. But because you were born here they are willing to give you one last chance to redeem yourself and your team Ashwood. They want you to end the Order of the Crimson Goddess once and for all. If not for your sake than for mines and everyone living here. Rid this town of their taint."

[Demincia]

Secrets of the Raven
Ashwood Manor
Celeste Elissa

"Well, I'm all choked up about your benefactors." Celeste said flatly. "I'm still waiting for you to tell us something that's actually useful. So far all you've talked about is vague pasts you don't know about and secret societies that are so gracious in allowing us to keep living. Though I would really like to see them try to kill me, you have no idea how happy I would be." The faintest hints of a grin creeped across her lips, but quickly disappeared. "I'd suggest you get to the point, I'm growing bored by having my time wasted by pathetic games." She crossed her arms, secretly sincerely hoping that these so-called benefactors would give her a reason to be rid of this planet.