Dragonball M, Chapter 3: In Blood, Bone, and Ash! The Way Forward Unlocked!

[MrSandman]

Finally allowing the beam to break, Zaofan took up a position between the two and Morgan. Somehow on the return flight aboard the Coldlight, he'd missed this thing entirely. The comms had gone off, and they'd all felt as if the Nebula itself had lurched as Charco made his last stand against the Doctor, but seeing Rex, the familiar energy that washed over him filled him with a different sort of terror than the forces that lurched within these accursed walls.

And though he would guard her, he too had his doubts.

"Morgan," he said briskly, "You're saying he's returned here, then it must be for a reason."

He dared not take his eyes off the impending battle before him - they were quicker than his hands, after all - yet they knew whatever was at the heart of this, the fall of the Royal Guard, the diaspora of the Attendants, and the cultish orders that sprung up in the scattering of Amdapour, it was all connected to this point. "You don't need permission to take a stand, least of all from him. But I need you to tell me."

"What's behind that door?"

"I've never seen it in person.......But I know its here." Morgan traced her hand down the symbols, each lighting up in order. "The void poisoning had to come from somewhere....and the only place there could be a leak is here. This door is buffered with force and energy resistance spellwork....I'm positive we're in the right place, behind here is the power distribution chamber. Which means..."

The girl suddenly turns to face Rex and Ochazuke, swallowed, and narrowed her eyes with burning defiance. "Which means....both of you need to shut up and listen to what I have to say. ESPECIALLY YOU!" She leveled her finger at Rex. "None of this would have ever happened if you hadn't come here.....None of it! Throw whatever excuses you want at us, but your no better then what your painting us to be....just because your late to the corpse doesn't make you any less of a scavenger." Morgan slapped her hand against the door. "The land here is being slowly poisoned by void....and somewhere behind this door is the answer to that. But there are also things behind this door that can make things a thousand times worse if you decide to pick a fight here or stick your damn claws into it....so, we're at an impasse."

Morgan took a calming breath. ".......So I'm asking you.....to look past whatever happened in the past long enough to work with us and spare whats left of this land. The power here is too dangerous to be harnessed anymore......Not us and not you. Unless you want to stand here until one of us start sprouting tentacles of course."

[grampagen]

"The relationship between that tribe and myself was more than you believe, boy."

While Ochazuke sought to hide his own power, Rex saw no reason to do so as the chamber was flooded in his killing intent now as dark energies rose within him.

"In life, I was their master, their tyrant, their triumphant victory, beyond that I was their guardian spirit and curse. They've used me just as I have used them. As many times I have inflicted tragedies upon others, so too have I saved."

Energy crackled from him and a thin sheen of it surrounded one of his clawed hands, "You may consider me a monster, but know this, humanity betrayed me first! When I had sought to ensure your ancestors could survive this cruel world, the gave in to their weakness and chose to submit themselves to creatures that were not meant for this world." Pointing an energy-shrouded claw towards Morgan, he continued, "The fall of Avalon was of their own fault. This planet ill needs such beings befouling it any further and it certainly does not need such a miserable little pile of secrets as this rotting kingdom."

Within that greying atop Rex's pointed claw, the violent grudge of the Ancients on both sides of Snowwall's borders resurrected with it.

Yet Ochazuke found the fanged words that passed from his maw of quite besides his predatory conveyance. With each ragged breath drawn through Charco's frame, Rex's bloodthirst rendered itself in the room, and he could feel reverberating through the chamber his primordial view. Just beneath the surface, Ochazuke found it roiling against savage instincts buried just beneath the surface; stoking at once stark fear, and a cold, defiant spite.

"Why would humanity betray such a magnanimous, piteous master, indeed? If principles are merely fickle matters, chances are they were held in kind by your example."

Within the subtle vector of his meditation field, he reached into the deep matter of this place, seeking the living energies rendered in spirit, to the fell compacts tethered to the metal of this tomb. Gathered to his right hand, the flesh of his finger whitened under the Guardian's Ring.

"What utter drivel. Persephone's tomb is only a mirror, for you are all avaricious parasites from beyond."

"I've never seen it in person.......But I know its here." Morgan traced her hand down the symbols, each lighting up in order. "The void poisoning had to come from somewhere....and the only place there could be a leak is here. This door is buffered with force and energy resistance spellwork....I'm positive we're in the right place, behind here is the power distribution chamber. Which means..."

The girl suddenly turns to face Rex and Ochazuke, swallowed, and narrowed her eyes with burning defiance. "Which means....both of you need to shut up and listen to what I have to say. ESPECIALLY YOU!" She leveled her finger at Rex. "None of this would have ever happened if you hadn't come here.....None of it! Throw whatever excuses you want at us, but your no better then what your painting us to be....just because your late to the corpse doesn't make you any less of a scavenger." Morgan slapped her hand against the door. "The land here is being slowly poisoned by void....and somewhere behind this door is the answer to that. But there are also things behind this door that can make things a thousand times worse if you decide to pick a fight here or stick your damn claws into it....so, we're at an impasse."

Morgan took a calming breath. ".......So I'm asking you.....to look past whatever happened in the past long enough to work with us and spare whats left of this land. The power here is too dangerous to be harnessed anymore......Not us and not you. Unless you want to stand here until one of us start sprouting tentacles of course."

Ochazuke's eyes narrowed. In response, only a hollow grunt for the Familiar he had physically dragged forward to this place.

Confronted with the truth of her charge, she could only plead toward their mutual interests in fighting for this world they all happened to share.

"How willful, at last, for preference," he said, "go on and do your duty."

And yet when he looked at Rex, he found he was quite unable to see past what had happened. Charco's future was one in a long line of stolen lives, and the heart of this dark palace pulsated with something yearning to push through the veil and possess what lay here. Void, the Timeless Enemy.

"We're right behind you." Zaofan's thin fingers rest upon the chef's apron he'd cradled on Morgan's shoulders. "Whether it's corrupted Amdapour Lords or another Squid Magician, we'll see this through to the end!"

He kicked his katchin staff from the ground and held it at the ready, chest puffed with a strange confidence. With all the tension in this stifling atmosphere, though, it was like holding his breath under icy water.

"...did I ever mention the time I railed a Time Elemental? These two hands planted a shiner a Parsic wide! And then a good friend of mine came in with the power of a locomotive-"

[grampagen]

"Tch..." Sasheem spat, frowning. He couldn't tell if this guy was mocking them or not. For Zaofan, that was alright. Expected even. But this kid didn't seem ready to fight at all. Though, if he was truly a kid at all was yet to be determined.

"You sure you're ready for this? It's two against one, and even Sasheem'll admit this moron's no slouch..." the Majin pointed a thumb over at Zaofan, taking the time to see if he could get a sense of this guardian's power level while he made small talk.

Of course it'd do no good if it was hidden, but all the same, he might as well check and see if he was stronger than him and the bungling chef.

When they got to the top of the mountain, Zaofan hadn't expected anyone else to have come all this way. Yet by this fellow's demeanor and conveyance, with respect to what they'd gone through to get here, he was quite beside himself.

...until Sasheem decided to shake him down. Moron?!

"Hey! Don't rope me into this!" he chattered, "It's not like this guy's spoiling for a fight anyways, I mean, look at him!"

He was hesitant to speak this out loud - present company and all - but this fellow had one of those faces. An air of subtle familiarity about him which pronounced itself most in a manner that marked him as nobody in particular.

“We can chat if you like instead. I’m not one for violence to be honest with you.”

You sense a vague power level above an average human but below yours.

Zaofan sighed, leaning his head back on his hands as he paced around the mountaintop, and as Sasheem surveyed their would-be opponent, he found himself looking down the long stair to the trees below. Scrunched his lower lip, his eyes narrowed. Something seems familiar about this. Descending underground, they found a long stretch of blue sky and this towering peak. ...how did we get here from that island?

Reaching into his pocket, he clicked a Capsule, and threw it over a clearing, revealing a cold-lunch spread. Wraps, sandwiches, riceballs, and savoury pastries. Travelling with this crowd, always take a spare.

"...how about we start over, it's been a long day for us. Break for lunch?" Laying out a hand, he motioned for the stranger to go ahead first.

"I don't think we've introduced ourselves. I'm Zaofan, nice to meet you, young sir!"

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

When they got to the top of the mountain, Zaofan hadn't expected anyone else to have come all this way. Yet by this fellow's demeanor and conveyance, with respect to what they'd gone through to get here, he was quite beside himself.

...until Sasheem decided to shake him down. Moron?!

"Hey! Don't rope me into this!" he chattered, "It's not like this guy's spoiling for a fight anyways, I mean, look at him!"

He was hesitant to speak this out loud - present company and all - but this fellow had one of those faces. An air of subtle familiarity about him which pronounced itself most in a manner that marked him as nobody in particular.



Zaofan sighed, leaning his head back on his hands as he paced around the mountaintop, and as Sasheem surveyed their would-be opponent, he found himself looking down the long stair to the trees below. Scrunched his lower lip, his eyes narrowed. Something seems familiar about this. Descending underground, they found a long stretch of blue sky and this towering peak. ...how did we get here from that island?

Reaching into his pocket, he clicked a Capsule, and threw it over a clearing, revealing a cold-lunch spread. Wraps, sandwiches, riceballs, and savoury pastries. Travelling with this crowd, always take a spare.

"...how about we start over, it's been a long day for us. Break for lunch?" Laying out a hand, he motioned for the stranger to go ahead first.

"I don't think we've introduced ourselves. I'm Zaofan, nice to meet you, young sir!"

He smiles and moves over.

“Oh wow, I’m famished! Oh, and my name’s Ro by the way. Pleasure to meet you, Zaofan!”

[grampagen]

Balon nods and brings some tea over for Ochazuke.

“Sasheem and Zaofan are ahead of them. While you were away, we discovered the island and the means to gain entry within a strange door marked with the sigils of all ten schools. Or, Zaofan did I should say. The Genki technique was the key. Both went inside.”

Sitting up at the edge of the bed, Ochazuke leaned forward, and propping his elbows over his knees, his broad shoulders shuddered. In spite of the leaps Ronin Kai had made in his healing craft, with every breath he could still feel the air drag and scrape through ruptured tissue and bone.

"Heh, then he got my message," he said through gritted teeth. A most bemusing victory. After all this time, there'd been some hidden truth beneath the fractured expression of the Root Art. Spoken of a language of unity, it would not be reflected through the tribes of the Earth. "Good man."

Yet his thoughts remained feverishly consumed as he pondered beneath a blood-blackened brow. However, Balon-sensei received the communication. Why hadn't Zaofan responded? When the Dragon Master offered him the tea, he swiftly declined, grumbled as stood up slowly, trying to recover his legs.

Ten projections from the Central Axis of the world. Though he was miles away, he could feel it intuitively through the tremor through the Earth. Ochazuke began to slowly peel off the wraps on his hands, dry with blood - much of it his own - when he recalled with burning clarity the ancient treasures stolen from him. The Gauntlets. The Circlet.

"You said the sigils of the Ten were marked upon a door, that it was an entryway. To where? Did you go with them?"

[grampagen]

He smiles and moves over.

“Oh wow, I’m famished! Oh, and my name’s Ro by the way. Pleasure to meet you, Zaofan!”

Well, this fellow is amicable, at least, Zaofan thought, raising half of an egg-salad sandwich in a pointed salute.

"Good to meet you too, Ro!" Briefly, he looked at the sky again, as if there was something not quite right about it, then around the humble residence they found before them.

"I don't suppose we, uhm," he paused, swallowing a mouthful, "-mmgh, did we happen to catch you at home at an inopportune time? We're sort of in the middle of finding an old friend, so to speak, and the trail brought us here..."

Looking from side to side, he widened his eyes with a tepid shrug as he briefly exchanged a look with Sasheem.

"...uh, wherever here is...?"

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Zaofan was attempting to dance around the subject a little because there was something quite fundamentally strange about this.

[grampagen]

One Year Ago

Breaching the eddying surface of the underground waterway, the stealth craft rose in a babbling wash. Amphibious carriers ferrying the shipment rose in the submarine docking station at a stony shore of the base. As the chamber depressurized, an iron-clad clank sounded as the latch door opened, and a rotation of exhausted recon men spilled out, single file.

The Northern detachment. They're back earlier than expected.

The sudden flutter and rush of air compelled Kenshiko to pull down the flat bill of her cap. Without a real aerodrome in the place, despite how guarded their exits from the outside world may have been, whenever a landing was made in Charlie Base within the carved-out hollow between the rock, every member of the Red Raider personnel would knew their men had returned. Her eyes surveyed the landing strip, shaded with aviators. As the skids set down and the whine of the propellers slowed, they reflected the oversight of returning, successful operations. Every small victory seemed to net them further momentum, and when the cargo ramp fell down, the latest material folded out.

"A crate of Capsules marked for disposal, at least on the manifest. These'll be all the components we'll need." Gero. Their insider had come through with a decidedly spiteful frequency. The prettyboy's number two, she's got an axe to grind.

Now that their supply chain started moving again, they had the material to return to fighting shape. After First Sergeant Connor was discharged from the infirmary, they put his gimped self in the brig. She thought she'd return to that damn manual Ochazuke left her, but despite her efforts to get the staff off her back, they'd come to her with a a desperate and rather pointed need for order.

The waiting game had been easy. Without a battle to fight a lot of them saw fit to coast and count the days by. Soldiers beaten back, sequestered without a purpose, collecting dust like the last bits of civilized flotsam that built the grounds Charlie Base was built on. So much fear had been sown among them within their own ranks, but it seemed that the forceful restructuring had stirred something. Living among the ruins of this silent civilization, their strange band remembered they could be more than grifter mercs and militia rejects; among them walked a Tiger,

Countless fights and however many confirmed kills in the field had given her an eye for certain inadequacies. It seldom brought her friends, but it was a useful talent to prod people forward as a teacher. Just like the good old days...for whatever good it will do. She thought she'd left that behind with the good, dead boys of Scarlet Squadron, but the Blood Red Master Gunny was something the platoon wanted back.

Just was another mask she wore that she could not allow to slip.

So with every order shouted, every salute raised, every limb locked and folded, there came a galvanization in the ranks. In the months to come they'd actually volunteered to work harder than even they thought possible. The sound of uniformly tromping boots traced laps, regular as clockwork. Every man would be ready to go as they were able, and it weighed heavily on her mind.

ONE-TWO-THREE-FOUR!

People were counting on her to show them the exact moment where death comes. To recognize how to kill the fear it when it came calling, and drag it down to the dirt. How the hell was she supposed to do that?

I-LOVE-THE RED-CORPS!

The best they could do, Kenshiko told them, was to count on each other. Watch your six. To stiffen up and lay down on the wire. A whole lot of these were cliches, beat in by rote and discipline. All of this she'd done before.

Walking down the shooting range on the hollow side of the mountain, the the anchored spotlights shone on the metal reinforcements, wrapped around like a shadowy spine and ribs. Across the distance it was like standing in the belly of a whale. The beast had swallowed what was left of Vermilion.

The troops were full of fire. But even with the technical staff reverse-engineering around the clock, that wouldn't be enough. It'll carry them through training for now, but they need more time. And the longer Grinthorn choked this rock, the more valuable the shrinking minutes became.

The Tiger Master, she knew they looked to her for direction, but in many respects she was just as lost as they were. Like them, she ended up here precisely because she had no place else to go; And just like last time, she found herself training an entire corps, doomed to die.

When the hours had run to the dusk rotation and the last few jokers carried their asses past the fiftieth lap, Kenshiko withdrew and sought out answers. She'd assumed the authority to put them through their paces. In turn she found herself assuming the responsibility of being their acting voice, and the fighting men needed answers.

That could only come from the upper ranks; The Golem, Damask, and the architect of this rebellion, Willa Rautt.

"Colonel. We need to talk."

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

Well, this fellow is amicable, at least, Zaofan thought, raising half of an egg-salad sandwich in a pointed salute.

"Good to meet you too, Ro!" Briefly, he looked at the sky again, as if there was something not quite right about it, then around the humble residence they found before them.

"I don't suppose we, uhm," he paused, swallowing a mouthful, "-mmgh, did we happen to catch you at home at an inopportune time? We're sort of in the middle of finding an old friend, so to speak, and the trail brought us here..."

Looking from side to side, he widened his eyes with a tepid shrug as he briefly exchanged a look with Sasheem.

"...uh, wherever here is...?"

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Zaofan was attempting to dance around the subject a little because there was something quite fundamentally strange about this.

Ro reaches down and picks up a sandwich, biting it and smiling happily before answering.

“Not really. I just kind of...hang around here. Been a long time since I had guests.”

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

One Year Ago

Breaching the eddying surface of the underground waterway, the stealth craft rose in a babbling wash. Amphibious carriers ferrying the shipment rose in the submarine docking station at a stony shore of the base. As the chamber depressurized, an iron-clad clank sounded as the latch door opened, and a rotation of exhausted recon men spilled out, single file.

The Northern detachment. They're back earlier than expected.

The sudden flutter and rush of air compelled Kenshiko to pull down the flat bill of her cap. Without a real aerodrome in the place, despite how guarded their exits from the outside world may have been, whenever a landing was made in Charlie Base within the carved-out hollow between the rock, every member of the Red Raider personnel would knew their men had returned. Her eyes surveyed the landing strip, shaded with aviators. As the skids set down and the whine of the propellers slowed, they reflected the oversight of returning, successful operations. Every small victory seemed to net them further momentum, and when the cargo ramp fell down, the latest material folded out.

"A crate of Capsules marked for disposal, at least on the manifest. These'll be all the components we'll need." Gero. Their insider had come through with a decidedly spiteful frequency. The prettyboy's number two, she's got an axe to grind.

Now that their supply chain started moving again, they had the material to return to fighting shape. After First Sergeant Connor was discharged from the infirmary, they put his gimped self in the brig. She thought she'd return to that damn manual Ochazuke left her, but despite her efforts to get the staff off her back, they'd come to her with a a desperate and rather pointed need for order.

The waiting game had been easy. Without a battle to fight a lot of them saw fit to coast and count the days by. Soldiers beaten back, sequestered without a purpose, collecting dust like the last bits of civilized flotsam that built the grounds Charlie Base was built on. So much fear had been sown among them within their own ranks, but it seemed that the forceful restructuring had stirred something. Living among the ruins of this silent civilization, their strange band remembered they could be more than grifter mercs and militia rejects; among them walked a Tiger,

Countless fights and however many confirmed kills in the field had given her an eye for certain inadequacies. It seldom brought her friends, but it was a useful talent to prod people forward as a teacher. Just like the good old days...for whatever good it will do. She thought she'd left that behind with the good, dead boys of Scarlet Squadron, but the Blood Red Master Gunny was something the platoon wanted back.

Just was another mask she wore that she could not allow to slip.

So with every order shouted, every salute raised, every limb locked and folded, there came a galvanization in the ranks. In the months to come they'd actually volunteered to work harder than even they thought possible. The sound of uniformly tromping boots traced laps, regular as clockwork. Every man would be ready to go as they were able, and it weighed heavily on her mind.

ONE-TWO-THREE-FOUR!

People were counting on her to show them the exact moment where death comes. To recognize how to kill the fear it when it came calling, and drag it down to the dirt. How the hell was she supposed to do that?

I-LOVE-THE RED-CORPS!

The best they could do, Kenshiko told them, was to count on each other. Watch your six. To stiffen up and lay down on the wire. A whole lot of these were cliches, beat in by rote and discipline. All of this she'd done before.

Walking down the shooting range on the hollow side of the mountain, the the anchored spotlights shone on the metal reinforcements, wrapped around like a shadowy spine and ribs. Across the distance it was like standing in the belly of a whale. The beast had swallowed what was left of Vermilion.

The troops were full of fire. But even with the technical staff reverse-engineering around the clock, that wouldn't be enough. It'll carry them through training for now, but they need more time. And the longer Grinthorn choked this rock, the more valuable the shrinking minutes became.

The Tiger Master, she knew they looked to her for direction, but in many respects she was just as lost as they were. Like them, she ended up here precisely because she had no place else to go; And just like last time, she found herself training an entire corps, doomed to die.

When the hours had run to the dusk rotation and the last few jokers carried their asses past the fiftieth lap, Kenshiko withdrew and sought out answers. She'd assumed the authority to put them through their paces. In turn she found herself assuming the responsibility of being their acting voice, and the fighting men needed answers.

That could only come from the upper ranks; The Golem, Damask, and the architect of this rebellion, Willa Rautt.

"Colonel. We need to talk."

Willa pauses a beat before looking at her.

“Speak freely. What do you need to speak about?”

[grampagen]

Ro reaches down and picks up a sandwich, biting it and smiling happily before answering.

“Not really. I just kind of...hang around here. Been a long time since I had guests.”

Shrugging casually, Zaofan polished off his portion to the seeded crusts.

First he's ready to throw down at the first hint of a challenge. Then he's back to just...chilling.

"Hm, that's a bit of a curiosity." Among other things. "Sounds like you must've been here for a while."

Ever since they set foot beyond the sealed door, Zaofan had been taken of a certain suspicion that - for once - had nothing to do with his Majin companion. Something acute he could not quite put his finger on, and yet it railed against his ki senses, perfused through the environment of this place.

"So what brings a guy like you to these parts?"

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

Shrugging casually, Zaofan polished off his portion to the seeded crusts.

First he's ready to throw down at the first hint of a challenge. Then he's back to just...chilling.

"Hm, that's a bit of a curiosity." Among other things. "Sounds like you must've been here for a while."

Ever since they set foot beyond the sealed door, Zaofan had been taken of a certain suspicion that - for once - had nothing to do with his Majin companion. Something acute he could not quite put his finger on, and yet it railed against his ki senses, perfused through the environment of this place.

"So what brings a guy like you to these parts?"

“Meditating mostly. Uncovering the mysteries of human ki and unlocking new and better techniques.”

[KingofPie]

He smiles and moves over.

“Oh wow, I’m famished! Oh, and my name’s Ro by the way. Pleasure to meet you, Zaofan!”

Well, this fellow is amicable, at least, Zaofan thought, raising half of an egg-salad sandwich in a pointed salute.

"Good to meet you too, Ro!" Briefly, he looked at the sky again, as if there was something not quite right about it, then around the humble residence they found before them.

"I don't suppose we, uhm," he paused, swallowing a mouthful, "-mmgh, did we happen to catch you at home at an inopportune time? We're sort of in the middle of finding an old friend, so to speak, and the trail brought us here..."

Looking from side to side, he widened his eyes with a tepid shrug as he briefly exchanged a look with Sasheem.

"...uh, wherever here is...?"

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Zaofan was attempting to dance around the subject a little because there was something quite fundamentally strange about this.

Sasheem, sat down, his brow furrowing. Robbed of a fight with this hapless moron, a small feast seemed like a fair trade. ...At least for the time being. A multitude of questions were beginning to arise within his mind at the presence of this stranger.

"Ro, huh. Bah..."

The Majin grabbed a rice ball, two wraps, and several pastries and began to feast as Zaofan began to, for lack of a better term, 'interrogate' this Ro. The chef sounded more than a little dumbfounded, a state of mind that he was no doubt more than familiar with . For once, however, Sasheem didn't blame him. This was starting to brew the kind of perplexity that only copious amounts of ki volleys could solve.

Ro reaches down and picks up a sandwich, biting it and smiling happily before answering.

“Not really. I just kind of...hang around here. Been a long time since I had guests.”

Shrugging casually, Zaofan polished off his portion to the seeded crusts.

First he's ready to throw down at the first hint of a challenge. Then he's back to just...chilling.

"Hm, that's a bit of a curiosity." Among other things. "Sounds like you must've been here for a while."

Ever since they set foot beyond the sealed door, Zaofan had been taken of a certain suspicion that - for once - had nothing to do with his Majin companion. Something acute he could not quite put his finger on, and yet it railed against his ki senses, perfused through the environment of this place.

"So what brings a guy like you to these parts?"

“Meditating mostly. Uncovering the mysteries of human ki and unlocking new and better techniques.”

The Majin had heard enough of this prattle. "Here's a better question..." Sasheem sneered. "How the hell did you get here?! No way you just bumbled yourself through the gate!"

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

Sasheem, sat down, his brow furrowing. Robbed of a fight with this hapless moron, a small feast seemed like a fair trade. ...At least for the time being. A multitude of questions were beginning to arise within his mind at the presence of this stranger.

"Ro, huh. Bah..."

The Majin grabbed a rice ball, two wraps, and several pastries and began to feast as Zaofan began to, for lack of a better term, 'interrogate' this Ro. The chef sounded more than a little dumbfounded, a state of mind that he was no doubt more than familiar with . For once, however, Sasheem didn't blame him. This was starting to brew the kind of perplexity that only copious amounts of ki volleys could solve.







The Majin had heard enough of this prattle. "Here's a better question..." Sasheem sneered. "How the hell did you get here?! No way you just bumbled yourself through the gate!"

He smiles.

“How do you think I got here?”

[MrSandman]

"We're right behind you." Zaofan's thin fingers rest upon the chef's apron he'd cradled on Morgan's shoulders. "Whether it's corrupted Amdapour Lords or another Squid Magician, we'll see this through to the end!"

He kicked his katchin staff from the ground and held it at the ready, chest puffed with a strange confidence. With all the tension in this stifling atmosphere, though, it was like holding his breath under icy water.

"...did I ever mention the time I railed a Time Elemental? These two hands planted a shiner a Parsic wide! And then a good friend of mine came in with the power of a locomotive-"

Taking her place at the wall, Morgan face seems to soften into a smile. "You've had quite a life then...All the more reason not to lose it here. Stay close to me Lord Zaofan." Morgan ran her hand down the wall, lighting up the glyphs as it went until a pattern took shape. There was a hiss and rumble within the walls as a energy seemed to dissipate behind the door, before it began to slide open every so slowly.

With a motion to follow and a look of caution toward Rex, she proceeds inside with the others.

~~~

Beyond the door lay a hall illuminated with a aetheric glow, and beyond that......they emerged on a transparent bridge into a large hollowed out chamber. The air was filled with a low hum, along with multiple indistinguishable sounds that came from the walls and deep below them. Beneath them the chamber descended down into an abyss, illumated only by a central spire of purple crystal material that Zaofan would immediately recognize. A spire of magicite....similar in shape and size to the one that had rested beneath the stoltengarde estate and had the site of many a terrible event. There was however....one very important difference.

Even from this height and distance it was unmistakable...Deep within the crystallized mass was.....it looked like....



Whatever it was...it was spherical in shape, but with an aura so alien it seemed impossible to discern. It radiating an aura of intense energy that was channeled through surrounding machinery, conduits made of void conductive material that channeled power up from the spire and all around them.

Following the line of sight up from the encased object, it reached the platform suspended above it...where their path led, and upon it the source of the strange sounded became apparent. Dozens of deformed human shapes, similar to humbet, lay prostrated and babbling incoherently around a throne. They took no heed to the appearance of the group...at least for the moment, instead focused entirely on the worship of.....

Visibly, Morgan seemed to falter...a bit of the determination she had managed to build dissolving.

Sat upon the throne, were bones. A skeleton, covered in the dust of the finest clothes...adorned with softly dimming jewels, their magic long since worn. Somehow in better shape then one would imagine.....but still....

"My Queen...." Morgan dropped her head. "..............I....Forgive me.....I was too late...."

"Too late indeed."

A deep gravely voice annouced above the hum, one Rex had heard many times before.

"At least for your part in all this. Pity...we could have accomplished so much more had you or my order had done their duty.....blinded by hubris and fear, the lot of them." Agravain slowly rolled himself out from behind the throne, amiss the many bowing eldrich monsters....his elderly appearance seemed more, inhuman. "But it is of no concern now....so dry your tears girl. Death is the construct of the gods, and we belong to a realm beyond them."

"And you....Rex. You I welcome with the utmost sincerity. I can think of no greater gift to my queen then your presence.....a fitting tribute to the rebirth of an empire. By your blood it was made ash, and by your blood will the ash be given form again. MORGAN!"

The hum intensified as the machinery around the throne seemed to come alive with power. The chorus of inhuman chanting grew to a sudden fevered pitch, several of the brings rising to their feet and raising deformed arms to the throne while screaming in tongues.

[Yun Lao]

Taking her place at the wall, Morgan face seems to soften into a smile. "You've had quite a life then...All the more reason not to lose it here. Stay close to me Lord Zaofan." Morgan ran her hand down the wall, lighting up the glyphs as it went until a pattern took shape. There was a hiss and rumble within the walls as a energy seemed to dissipate behind the door, before it began to slide open every so slowly.

With a motion to follow and a look of caution toward Rex, she proceeds inside with the others.

~~~

Beyond the door lay a hall illuminated with a aetheric glow, and beyond that......they emerged on a transparent bridge into a large hollowed out chamber. The air was filled with a low hum, along with multiple indistinguishable sounds that came from the walls and deep below them. Beneath them the chamber descended down into an abyss, illumated only by a central spire of purple crystal material that Zaofan would immediately recognize. A spire of magicite....similar in shape and size to the one that had rested beneath the stoltengarde estate and had the site of many a terrible event. There was however....one very important difference.

Even from this height and distance it was unmistakable...Deep within the crystallized mass was.....it looked like....


Whatever it was...it was spherical in shape, but with an aura so alien it seemed impossible to discern. It radiating an aura of intense energy that was channeled through surrounding machinery, conduits made of void conductive material that channeled power up from the spire and all around them.

Following the line of sight up from the encased object, it reached the platform suspended above it...where their path led, and upon it the source of the strange sounded became apparent. Dozens of deformed human shapes, similar to humbet, lay prostrated and babbling incoherently around a throne. They took no heed to the appearance of the group...at least for the moment, instead focused entirely on the worship of.....

Visibly, Morgan seemed to falter...a bit of the determination she had managed to build dissolving.

Sat upon the throne, were bones. A skeleton, covered in the dust of the finest clothes...adorned with softly dimming jewels, their magic long since worn. Somehow in better shape then one would imagine.....but still....

"My Queen...." Morgan dropped her head. "..............I....Forgive me.....I was too late...."

"Too late indeed."

A deep gravely voice annouced above the hum, one Rex had heard many times before.

"At least for your part in all this. Pity...we could have accomplished so much more had you or my order had done their duty.....blinded by hubris and fear, the lot of them." Agravain slowly rolled himself out from behind the throne, amiss the many bowing eldrich monsters....his elderly appearance seemed more, inhuman. "But it is of no concern now....so dry your tears girl. Death is the construct of the gods, and we belong to a realm beyond them."

"And you....Rex. You I welcome with the utmost sincerity. I can think of no greater gift to my queen then your presence.....a fitting tribute to the rebirth of an empire. By your blood it was made ash, and by your blood will the ash be given form again. MORGAN!"

The hum intensified as the machinery around the throne seemed to come alive with power. The chorus of inhuman chanting grew to a sudden fevered pitch, several of the brings rising to their feet and raising deformed arms to the throne while screaming in tongues.

A deep rumble rose from his chest, emerging as a deep, throaty chuckle. Clapping slowly, he drew in his surroundings, his laughter eventually subsiding and his focus turning to Morgan, "Are you not pleased, little one? This is what your people were hoping for, even if they were too naive to know the truth."

The saurian turned his gaze, addressing the old man, "I must thank you, old man. It warms my cold heart to know that my actions were justified back then... just as they are now," He began, allowing Agravain to ramble on about rebuilding before continuing, "I'll do you one better than blood, old man. I will grant you the greatest reward one such as yourself deserves; annihilation. It will be a mercy compared to the delusions you suffer from."