Originally Posted by
grampagen
As soon as the call had gone out, the response from the corners of the globe had been swift. Ochazuke supposed to himself that perhaps there was some quiet comfort to be had in the reliability of his comrades. Samson and Evangeline await the assembly outside, and for a moment he'd found himself alone in the Guardian's chamber. Aching phantom wounds lingered where they tracked upon his body not hours ago, and he leaned upon the wall for a moment. When his mind at last cleared, with a throw of his heavy hand, he cast the doors open and stood tall.
Ochazuke turned his attention first to Held, and when he landed effortless in his easy manner, the barest smirk curled at the corner of his lip. Not a wasted movement.
"I called for warriors, Held, and warriors is what I expect, no less," he replied. "I'll fill you in when the others arrive, but in brief, Kenshiko has resurfaced, and along with her the Red Raiders."
What had happened years ago was still fresh in his mind, and the separations of the past and present had prevented him from confronting her before. He knew firsthand it was a lot to ask, even of a consummate professional, to take up this task, much less a second time.
"Perhaps I must once again ask for the impossible. If there is even the smallest chance we can pull it off, it will need to be exacting, precise."
The roar of plasma-engines and hiss of pneumatics broke the divinely sealed atmosphere surrounding the Lookout as the GP officer touched down. Our eye in the sky. The Arcosian Officer's towering frame soon joined this assembly.
"So it seems. I understand your network's been having some trouble," Ochazuke replied mirthlessly. "The Red Raiders said something about it while I confronted them on West Continent."
Ochazuke paused for a moment, rubbing a cold bead of sweat from his scarred brow. Though the majority of Blizzar's deeds spoke to the contrary and his masked visage put him apart, something in his body language and that particular sound that framed his footsteps still echoed the impression of...somebody else. Perhaps only the shape of a villain.
"Very comprehensive grid, a thousand parts ready to move and respond...and just as many eyes to see the task done. It seems the World Government caught wind of it and wanted a piece of that. Perhaps it may have been only a manner of time, Officer, before the President used it to enhance his outreach. You and I both know how fixated he becomes once he sets his view to something."
"Hardly."
Ochazuke's tone hardly changed as the third emerged. Dead men may not always be ghosts...particularly if you know were to look.
"Your grave countenance is unbecoming for a young man Jack. Neither is it suitable to follow would-be Destroyers after what happened in Avalon."
Even now, that Saurian and the soul knotted into the flesh of its being was still out there. Slavering, hunting, feeding. After seeing the nadir of desperate humanity and glimpsing the eternal night wrought forth from the maw of the Void in the clash of Ancients, he and Zaofan threw themselves into completing their training with as much zeal and equal parts desperation to keep this world turning.
"The history of this world is fraught with division, but you and I, this is still our home. I wager, however, that I may have a task better suited for your talents."
Ochazuke took a few steps over the renewed plaza of the Lookout, glasslike tiles reflecting the pristine blue above with perfect fidelity. He looked over to Evangeline as he passed, because what he was about to do would be unconscionable to the Ronin in his self-appointed duty as custodian.
Much less the Nevadian warrior in their present company
"This may be a matter of interest for you as well, Guardian. And Balon, be on your guard."
This was the only warning as he produced a capsule, and cast its weighty contents over the square, before immediately reaching inward with a hand gild in nullification energies.
Plucked from the cloud of dust was the head of the Golem, Damask.
"You serve the bloodline. I saw it when I reached into the matter of your soul," he said. The ancient facade held in Ochazuke's deathly grip turned with him, steered about to face Jack Knave where he stood. "Tell me, creature, who is this that stands before you?"