Scene #7928: Signal Echoes: Commencement

Owner	Pose
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	On the other side of the portal, Providence turns the piece of Aurelionite over in his hand, peering intently at it. "A suggestion, if I may." "We don't got the time to have a goddamn fucking city council meeting," says Phreak, interjecting and "There's survivors waiting on our help." "Then we'll discuss it on the way there. Please, climb on." The alien being's enormous blue steed coils upright, slithering over to allow you on as passengers. "My brother will hurl his creations at us relentlessly, until we are defeated or until he is forced to face you himself," explains Providence as the worm takes flight. "The moon is shattered, and accessing his fortress will mean passing four tests, all while enduring his attention." He pauses, his cyclopic eye gleaming. "Or it would, were I not able to carry all of you swiftly enough to circumvent his defenses." The ground rapidly vanishes beneath. "So pick up the survivors," calls Phreak back, switching to his spacesuit's comms to be heard more clearly over the rushing of air. He's posted up towards the back, those absurdly sized SMGs pinned to either thigh by some kind of built-in holster. "It can't carry all of you and the survivors. Some of you are... rather heavy, it seems." A glance back at the huge astronaut and the green-helmeted cyborg. "However--I will gladly take you to them, and guarantee your passage to and through the teleporter. If a contingent of you would be willing to remain behind and keep them safe, then the rest of us can address the... root of the problem without needing to pass the Trials or fight his weapons." "I volunteer," comes the Captain's voice not long after. He is joined, in a successive chorus, by the Engineer, the Huntress, and the Artificer. "G's got your command thing, in case you forgot," says Phreak. "She can keep it," says the Captain. "I have other means of helping," he says. The air is quiet, this high up--or it would be, if not for the sound of two turbine engines. A drone large enough for a human to comfortably stand on follows behind the worm, with two articulated autocannons tracking potential threats down below. That must be what he was so pleased about at the Rallypoint. "But if you have so little faith in us, you might come yourself and put those 'free trials' to use, yes?" He chuckles. "Well... if Kukuru goes with those guys, then it's even." Then, with an exaggerated arrogant loftiness-- "Yeah, you guys would probably be dead without me, so I'll go too." "Good," says Providence, evidently taking the facetious remark seriously.
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	You and your allies arrive in a great, amber-skied plainsland to find the survivors in the middle of a teleporter attempt. There's clearly a reason they survived this far--they're heavily armed, and have armored themselves in the countless interrupted stories that litter the planet in colorful boxes. Their giant, ill-defined humanoid adversaries look like depictions of ghosts, their faces more like droopy-eyed masks than anything alive. These beings seem slow, ponderous, almost peaceful, until they step across space in the blink of an eye to smash with giant fists. Pyramid turrets open fire and armor up in alternating bursts. They all fight with Mithrix's obsessive hatred, But the tide turns when Rita and Hiromi get within range, via Providence's steed. Chaos within the ranks as earth and monsters suddenly turn on their fellows. The pop of the teleporter is brought forth all the sooner by Providence, who fuels it directly with a focused, narrow beam from his sword. "The entrance hall is the least exposed. Fighting us, Mithrix will have only so much focus to spare for you. Make your stand there. The rest of you--hold on tightly." The pale moon, Commencement, races towards you. Those of you without spacesuits find that a slight chill is the worst one suffers--that speaking, even breathing, appear possible in vacuum, at least astride this creature. As you grow closer, the moon's cracked landscape is revealed, held to the core and kept from drifting away by massive chains, each large enough for several people to walk across. The 'fortress' is hard to miss--a structure built of the same pale rock, hewn, a monument to stifling, sterile solitude. It floats above this ruined expanse, above forgotten ritual apparatus, buried colisseums, and collapsed libraries. The sole splash of color not white or grey is the pale blue of the thin sky, and the mottled blue of lunar pods that cling to structures like barnacles. It's rapidly rising to meet you, but there is resistance--constructs follow you in flight, rapidly firing streams of razor sharp crystal needles in your path. Others, of several different types, are bound to the ground, unable to pursue. They double back for the main entrance, but are quickly being mowed down by your allies, as the structure grows smaller and smaller behind you.
Raziel	Raziel climbs onto the ride to the moon, mulling over the plan in his head. It wasn't much he could improve upon, and the basis of it seemed solid. Though, forcing the brother to fight them head-on likely won't be as easy as he makes it. Regardless, this was seemingly the best path forward. With a sigh, Raziel snaps his right hand back as the swirl of energy on it formed the Soul Reaver again. 'The moon was quite different than I imagined, even if this wasn't the moon of Nosgoth, I wondered how similar they were? The air thinned, and the temperature dropped...though these effects seemed blunted by the mount we were riding. The rock was pale, giving one an appearance of those sterile environments that are too common in the 'modern' world.' When the constructs moved to fight them, Raziel held a hand out to focus his telekinesis. Concentrating, he aims a wave of telekinetic force out, aiming to hit the constructs as they fly towards them. The goal was to try and either blast them back to the earth or stall them enough to be picked off by others. 'I could feel the hatred of Mithrix washing from not only the fast approaching fortress but the creatures who fought. The survivors were held up, but with the support from our group, they would survive...assuming we could complete our end of things. Just a little bit more, and it'll be resolved.'
Rita Ma	At the final teleporter, where the survivors are gathered, Rita dismounts the blue worm to rush over to them before the fighting's even settled. She rummages hastily through her satchel, finding her way to the wounded unerringly (even though they're suited up?) and offering them outdated, yet effective, first aid. "I'm so sorry. You've been here so long, haven't you? We came as fast as we could. I know it's been hard, but we're getting you out of here, I absolutely promise. It's just a little farther." There's a keen, fretful, almost agonized kind of empathy in her face and voice. The castaways, the shipwreck survivors- of course they'd have a place in her heart. When they leave the B-team behind in the entrance hall, the little runt lizard and the beetle with the bandaged shell are left behind also. She bends down to pat their heads, murmur something indistinct to them, and leave them with some spare medical supplies. "I don't like this place," she murmurs- ostensibly to Liza, but really in general- as the flying worm ascends towards the fortress. "It's too..." Rita reaches for the word 'sterile', but fumbles. "Clean? ... No. Like someone started making it, but forgot to finish. No details, no color. Just shapes." She looks down once, turns green, and doesn't repeat the mistake. When the flying creatures come, she's too busy clinging tightly to the worm to do much by way of maneuvering, but those strange blue bolts materialize from the air around her nonetheless. In the air they look like coherent bullets, but when they strike they 'splash'. The first dose soaks in and causes sizzling burns; the second shot catalyzes some kind of reaction with the first, exploding victims from within. A third is rarely required. "There's so many of them down there. I hope the other group will be okay," she says forlornly. "Maybe I should've stayed."
Hiromi	Though she's spent much of this adventure being only inconsistently helpful, when they get into range of the survivors, it comes time to benefit from the terrible bias Hiromi holds. Far from an impartial arbiter, as much as she might sometimes suggest otherwise, it's nearly a given that she'll always help 'humans' over 'creatures she doesn't know.' She would like to see them fight, this much is true. But, having other things to do, she does direct the creatures of earth, as soon as they come under her authority, to exclusively turn their might against those former, strange comrades, who have not likewise turned. In terms of words, she provides nothing. Riding along with the others, finding some place to grip her leg around to stay aboard, she has no objection to the plan. It's wholly beneficial and sensible. "Challenging the head, remainders, don't matter. They'll live." Sequence-breaking is a merciful act. When they come under attack, she's hit with a less-usual quandary. Yes, she could survive the attacks, herself. But if their mount is injured, or balked, that slows their advance, or worse. Her own fortitude isn't the issue in question, and by the same token, isn't helpful to the solution. Her strength is sufficient, however, to leap from the mount, cross the breathable void, and strike one of the flying constructs, her momentum carrying them both further away. From there, while ignoring the long lines of broken crystals that didn't quite pierce her skin deeply enough to matter, Hiromi wrestles the weapon-arms in the direction of the other opponents, all the while bending and kicking it to fly the directions she want. The shouting and growling might not help, but it doesn't hurt, either. Once she's in danger of losing her perch, or falling too far behind, she treats the whole thing as reaction mass, kicking it away to catch another flier, then smashing it out of the moon-sky to find another, and another, until she's back aboard.
Kukuru	EARLIER Atop the giant worm, Kukuru's first instinct is to run her hands along the surface of the blue creature gently, almost as if to reassure it after the conclusion of the battle with Providence. As she does, she looks over at the alien while listening to his idea, pausing occasionally to stroke her chin as if she was thinking harder than she really is. "That sounds like a pretty good plan, mhm. He might not even be expecting us to get through all his trials and stuff, so this'll really surprise him and give us a better shot at getting you two together to figure it all out." Providence gets a light pat on the leg/leg approximation, and then she turns to the Captain and crew. "You just make sure nobody gets eaten, okay? I can't fix any of you if I can't find you." She warns with a vaguely ominous and scolding tone, and she even makes sure to stare right at the crew to try and pressure them into agreeing. Once the crew meets the survivors, however, Kukuru is surprisingly fast at rummaging about in her pockets even though she's not disembarking just yet. Instead, she picks out a good number of water bottles and cookie tins (with actual cookies, not needles nor thread), then leans way off the side of the worm to set them down (or just hand them over if anyone approaches). "You'll be okay, too. We're almost done, o-kay?" NOW With less conversation to keep her mind occupied, Kukuru looks significantly less enthused about flying atop the great worm. She keeps her head down against it, looking only mildly reassured when she hears words once again. "I understand, Rita. It's really... Bland. There's no life to it. No.. Joy." When the first of Mithrix's minions within and around the structure come into her view, Kukuru still refrains from hopping off the worm immediately. She's lacking much in the way of viable ranged attacks at first, but she sees a possibility once those needles come flying towards the group. Under ideal circumstances, she'd have the skill to catch them in midflight, spin to carry their momentum around, then release the needles in a smooth motion to fling them right back at those flying pursuers. Kukuru certainly tries doing that, but she just ends up with several needles embedding themselves in her arms. She winces as she yanks them out, breathing in sharply through her nose to try and keep her expression neutral (she fails). Once she's got a handful of those razors, she chucks them right back at the constructs that aren't already being targeted by Raziel or Rita, and she's keeping an eye on them as well to provide some spot healing should it be needed. Her throwing method means the impacts (if she doesn't miss entirely by just throwing hard rather than predicting jukes) are just as likely to smash the crystals right into the constructs as they are to actually cut anything. She's also keeping a closer eye on Hiromi in particular, ready to catch her on the return jump just in case that's necessary.
Liza Grier	Liza has unfortunately had to return the half-shredded Mauler to the mech bay aboard her ship (somewhere). It'll be only a few minutes before it's fully rearmed by automatic procedures, but at least half an hour before armour has been adequately replaced with emergency substitutions, and much longer before it's been fully assessed for comprehensive damage reports and its internals patched up. It'll take a full overhaul by hand for her to be confident it's in prime condition. Either way, she doesn't want to have to call on it for anything but use as a gun platform unless she really has to at this point. The worm ride is reluctantly accepted and silently appreciated. "Not pulling the trigger on you keeps paying out." Liza synth-grumbles to Providence. "Congrats. Your photo can go on my special corkboard. If only that were a lot more common." She brings up her PDA, already taking notes, shuffling around macros and menus, and clearly planning for Providence to describe the 'four tests', then hesitantly puts it away when he says they're just going to skip them. "Fine with me. The less how-high jumping jacks I have to do for the tyrant, the better." She picks up the command designator, turns it over in her hand, looks over to the captain, surely experiencing calculating reluctance behind her helmet's faceplate (probably), and then laughs darkly under her breath when he says she can keep it. "Don't go regretting that." she says, attaching it back to the hardpoint it came from. "Or regret it as much as you want. Doesn't make a difference to me." It takes her only a second to divvy up and reassign the comms and health readouts in her HUD link to sort the local contingent into two groups. "Fine by me. Securing an evac zone is priority one for getting out personnel you don't want to turn into electron mist. Explorers handle survivors, meddlers handle bastard." With the palpable feeling of skipping a stage still lingering somewhere nebulously at the back of her throat as the purple grass and twilight skies recede, Liza has the presence of mind to pick Rita up and put her down on the worm right in front of her, so that she is shielded by her armoured bulk from behind, and by a quick deployment of her e-shield from the front at a moment's notice. "Sorry, but I wasn't going to let you stay either way." Liza says. "So don't even bother thinking about it. You weren't going to get to. Besides. Tactical 101 is that splitting up like this halves the heat on two equal parties and quarters it on a weaker one. This is the best we could do to prevent force convergence on the survivors." A low whistle turns into crackled static through her helmet speaker when the moon comes into view. "What the hell happened here? It's like the Ruin got to it and then got bored. You really built a prison on a moon that's barely even holding together? It looks like he could cut anchor and drift away into space." She looks around for all of five seconds. "Not like he needs anything, right? This whole place is like an asylum cell. Not where someone lives." She nods to Rita. "Places people exist aren't ever that clean. It's not just clean, it's 'not lived in'. Dead." Her focus quickly changes to their pursuit. Really not wanting to fuck around with the complex ballistics of being on one flying platform shooting at other flying enemies slowly transitioning from space to an unknown moon's gravity, Liza swaps over to a matte black boxy laser rifle of some kind, a pop-up scope extending along with the collapsing barrel assembly, linked to her helmet. This way, all she really has to do is line up the indicators, point, and shoot, firing intense rapid pulses into the constructs meant to superheat and blow apart their ostensibly mineral construction, where metal might just partially melt.
Redshift Operators	The gruff gunman takes a deep breath. "Alright, medals, you want your heroic stand... well, get it done fast. I intend to solve this one quick." He grumbles. He's willing to give the blue-hat bastard one quick handshake on his way off the steed. It's all he has the emotional room for. He puts the frustration downrange into the constructs rising to meet the group. With a quick double-tap of his index finger's knuckle to the astronaut, and a short tactical signal, both open up, with rapid or single blasts. There's not much for the giant and the ninja to do, but the former does turn to look at Rita, with his good eye. "Make sure they will be. No hesitation." His gravel-voice says, in those menacing tones. He just wants to encourage her! The ninja is a bit more clear. "Take his attention off them, and you'll do more than you could staying there. And I am certain you can take his attention." She turns back, focusing, focusing, focusing... Trying to psyche herself up for the encounter with the king, and make sure her precognition is at the top of its form. Despite her typical confidence, she has little doubt that this is the type of man to disrupt it.
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	"If only," agrees Providence with Liza. But on the topic of Commencement, he has more to say. "A shattered prison, which began life as neither of those things." "This was the place where we did our work, he and I, never knowing how different we really were." Hiromi's means of staying in the air when not riding the worm proves not only effective in keeping her aloft, but in shooting down constructs. Her aggressive control either tears them apart triggering futile escape mechanisms, or, when she abandons one for another, ends up kicking it into a fellow or one of Rita's bolts. "This world was meant to honor someone very dear to us." "There came to be differences in how she would best be honored. He wanted something not unlike this place." Liza's laser spears into a construct, the automaton's spherical core shattering like glass as it falls to pieces. "But I wanted something that was alive, for N'kuhana died so that life here could have meaning." The lip of Mithrix's fortress passes beneath the worm, which dips downwards in a dizzying rush towards the center. The roof of the fortress looks almost like a gladiatorial arena, and there, standing in the center, is Mithrix. "I see you've got Aurelionite with you." He is pale, a being of grey; cyclopic as Providence is, with a glaring blue eye peering outfrom behind a winged full helmet. He shifts the hammer, giving it a testing swing. "So you've finally lost your mind. Finally given yourself completely over to these disgusting creatures. Come here to kill me, have you?" "To stop you. To reach you." "So all I have to do to get you to listen to me is torture your little pets," replies Mithrix, cracking his neck. "Mithrix..."
Raziel	Raziel jumps from the back of the worm, to land in a three-point stance facing Mithrix. His words to his sibling cause his head to focus on the creature, with his eyes seemingly narrowing, despite them being glowing orbs. Standing up, the Reaver stays deployed as he takes a few steps forward, watching Mithrix. 'The words caused me to remember then. They saught to remember someone, to honor someone dear to the both of them. I felt that presence before when we first got here. Perhaps it was still there..? Or perhaps it had passed on to the planet itself.' "From my position, it is you who has lost your mind. Providence might not be innocent by any means. His mistakes have caused harm, but he can at least say he was doing what he thought was right. Can you say the same? No lying now, because Aurelionite told us what you did to him." Raziel starts to approach, "Even now your brother seeks to reach out to you, begging you to stop this path you are on. To remember what it was you did together once, what you aspired to do. The person you honored...I felt the presence here when I first arrived. I felt that gentle presence and the love she bore for everything...despite the sickness gripping the world." The sword comes down, ready to defend himself. "Though I doubt you will listen to just reason. If you think you can make good on your threats, then I invite you to try. If that will help you see reason..."
Kukuru	"That explains why it's so lifeless, yeah..." Kukuru comments after Providence explains the reasoning behind why this place ooks the way it does, her attention still split in multiple directions up until another voice comes forth. She whirls around a few times before figuring out where it's coming from, and then she squints briefly to make sure she's looking the right way before speaking again. "There's Mithrix." Kukuru states the obvious while preparing herself for the descent, shutting her eyes tightly once she feels that tilt from the worm. It's only when she can hear Mithrix and Providence speaking directly that she finally reopens her eyes, sliding off the worm gingerly and looking over at the former once to commit his appearance to memory. "You're worried for him, aren't you?" It's not clear who Kukuru's addressing until she starts approaching the hammer-bearer, hands held loosely at her sides at first while she keeps her movements smooth, slow, and as thoroughly unthreatening as it usually is. "Every family gets into fights, and I know what happened before must've hurt a lot. Still, it shouldn't keep you two apart forever." She keeps approaching, hesitating only briefly at that test swing before continuing to approach Mithrix. "I know you've both got it in you to... To make up, talk things over, figure out a better way forward so nobody has to get hurt. Come on." If Kukuru isn't pulled back or stopped, she'll move well within easy striking range of that hammer while keeping her hands held out to Mithrix with a hopeful smile fixed on her face. Anyone who can probe into her head or even read the slightest bit of body language can easily tell that she's completely serious about this. "What do you say?"
Redshift Operators	"You get one chance to take this like a decent person. One chance to solve this like a kid," The gunman racks something on his rifle as he dismounts. "Instead of an adult. I'm here to put a bullet in you, but I bet this floaty god-bastard came along half 'cause he wants me not to." His gun comes up. "You gonna take this the real way? Or you gonna listen to however many decades of lying to yourself you been doing up here? Think hard about what you want. You wanna kill us all, and make Providence miserable? That what you been dreaming of, pal?" Ther swordswoman dismounts as well, in a clean and practiced flip. "Or perhaps this is what you seek in the end. Men like you are often the same. Fearful of the day when everyone they know comes to know some true heart. Unwilling to risk its tender vulnerabilities, and only willing to vent its vicious toxins." She raises something in one hand. "Is that what you want? To see all such fears realized, all at once, brutally and painfully? I am sure such an outcome feels inevitable. And remains your choice, as ever. Embrace your cursed fate, or throw it off." Unfurling her machine palm, she bares the nugget of gold, carried on a tattered thread that once held beads of a certain affiliation. If there's no sign of peace, and she knows there won't be, she'll squeeze it so hard that arcs of cyan lightning buzz along her mechanical forearm. That should get a certain someone's attention.
Hiromi	'So all I have to do to get you to listen to me is torture your little pets,' replies Mithrix, cracking his neck. Something about this description clearly amuses Hiromi, but her only explanation or objection is to say, "Come, feel your wrongness. Words do not impress." 'Impression,' the act of pushing the shape of one thing into another. "Test your strength. Test his resolve. Weakness yields. What holds your strength in the sky? What supports your convictions? Desires alone are not strength. They're gnawing hunger."
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	Far away from this towering arena, your allies have just finished retrieving the survivors--the telltale crack of a charged teleporter can be heard even this far up. If they've made it that far, they'll be sticking to Providence's advice, and fortifying in the entryway. Mithrix doesn't notice it. You wanna kill us all, and make Providence miserable? That what you been dreaming of, pal? Embrace your cursed fate, or throw it off. Desires alone are not strength. They're gnawing hunger. "Her death is wasted on you," spits Mithrix as he charges forward. He's bent on doing harm, just as he said he would. The clash of hammer against sword drives Providence to one knee, setting off a powerful shockwave around the point of impact. As Providence attempts to rise, he's battered by the haft, Mithrix strafing round him to strike from a blind spot. Providence is knocked across the arena, nearly sliding off the edge before a large hand formed of golden ore erupts from the fragment on his person, halting his traverse. Mithrix doesn't bother looking back--he attacks both directly and indirectly, making use of his great strength and expertise with the hammer to weave close-range strikes into shockwave-inducing ground-pounds. The weapon seems easier to swing, more swift than perhaps it should be, giving it a deceptive kind of danger up-close. "N'kuhana died so that life could have meaning," cries Providence, helped back to his feet by Aurelionite. "But you know nothing of life! You surround yourself with sterile, static, obedient things--this isn't a garden, it's a painting. No matter how beautiful you make it, nothing will ever live here."
Redshift Operators	Shockwaves tear up the safety of this area. The precognitive ninja has to grab the gunman's arm and leap hard to evade a wave slamming underfoot, shouting with the effort. The tearing of ground peppers their lower legs with brutal shots, but they'll live. "And your death is wasted on getting in between me and a shot at another goddamn Company, ya bastard!" Shouts the gunman when he gets out of a dynamic landing roll. Slamming a set of heavy armor-piercing rounds for this big boy and his heavy constitution, he lets loose with his rifle, calling to the ninja beside him: "Black bombs, left pocket, cook three!" She prepares it and raises it as he keeps up sustained fire, and then when the magazine runs dry, he transitions the stance to a gorgeously clean, well-practiced throw in a single motion, snatching the grenade and slinging a fastball that threatens to airburst directly next to Mithrix's head with force designed to turn humans and space station structure alike into chunks. Gotta not hesitate to start strong here.
Hiromi	'Her death is wasted on you.' "So, you value life and death, after all!" Hiromi wades straight into those hits, not bothering to deflect, nor even to block. She pays for it, the hammer crunching her shoulder inward, but her stance is unmoved, only the ground around her suffering for that immovability. The dislocation, along with the ugly internal injuries accompanying it, mend themselves in the process of the strike she throws in return, the equal exchange of placing herself in the greatest danger likewise putting Mithrix in her own range. Every blow is like a hammer, even with only the bones of her wrist behind it, even with a single knuckle. Right and left, she attacks both Mithrix and his weapon, keeping her feet solidly planted, raising only to hound his every movement across the arena. She is a constant threat. To look away from her is to risk her grasping a limb, or his hammer's shaft. To stay focused on her is to look away from all the others present. Hitting her is easy, but knocking her down or away is not, and her flesh knits itself back together more quickly than this level of violence can overcome.
Kukuru	Sadly, Mithrix doesn't respond as well as Kukuru had hoped. He advances, he lashes out at Providence, and he sends out waves of crushing force through indirect attacks alone. The shockwaves have Kukuru wobbling dangerously, even, before she finds her footing just long enough to smash her hand right into the ground, wedging it firmly in to hold herself steady through that initial back and forth between Mithrix and Providence. "Dying sucks. Even if good stuff comes from it for someone, it still sucks for the person dying and everyone left behind. You're talking like you want to kill us just to hurt Provi, and-" Kukuru finds a gap between the shockwaves, and she punches off the ground to get herself away from all those shockwaves for a few precious seconds before finding her angle. She disappears into a cloudy purple portal, then reappears above Mithrix to dive for his back. "-that sucks. If you hurt him, what good does that do for you? If you kill him, what are you gonna have left? There'll be nobody left to care about you, and you're gonna have to live the rest of your life knowing you killed the last person that really loved you. Do you really want that?" Kukuru's claws come back out of her pockets, and she swings each one downwards simultaneously to try carving them into Mithrix's back and slow her descent. Although her words sound more like a warning, there's little seemingly held back in her first attack as she works on carving right into his back like a terrible flesh-burrowing creature.
Redshift Operators	"Because none of this is as small as your family! That shipping company you wanted a ride off with? The type of sons of bitches who'd pay top dollar to be your little sterile sycophants? I'm here to get them, not you! And if you don't stop this goddamn scheme you got, giving 'em everything they need to know about the most dangerous planet full of the most powerful weapons in the whole damn galaxy, you're getting the bullet too, bastard. I don't let a human shield get in my way, and I sure don't let a king." "Went and fuckin' annihilated every trace of vulnerability you got, now you think you're gonna step on the galaxy by making this kind of deal with the damn company? You wanna talk about a loveless brotherhood?" Teeth grit under a helmet. "Piece of shit. You're trading a brother that loves you for a soulless committee that thinks you're profitable this quarter. No wonder you feel so betrayed if you're chasing getting used like this!" The leader of the Redshift Operators is still caught up in their own very personal vendettas more than the family's feud, seeming to find all the more reason to despise this indulgence of narcissistic compulsions.
Liza Grier	"Of course it's because of a woman." a sigh garbles through Liza's speakers, the laser weapon put away as the worm lands. "Even with alien demigods, it's actually the same, huh? Even if it's just her memory, one man wants to make something with it, and the other wants to own it." "There are three kinds of people, one-eye. People who make things, people who break things, and people who own things. Which kind is your brother? Because two of those kinds of people aren't." 'You're trading a brother that loves you for a soulless committee that thinks you're profitable this quarter. No wonder you feel so betrayed if you're chasing getting used like this!' "That's the problem with this type." Liza crackle-grunts sideways at Red Dwarf. Even though she's never spent any time drilling with his team at all, she has already naturally begun circling around the opposite hand of the clock to where he is, widening the pie slice between them without reaching a crossfire angle. "He thinks he's going to be the one using them. Because he's a god and they're humans. He doesn't know what a company, a system, really is. He thinks he'll master it just like he thinks he would that many people. Critically fucking mistaken, as always. Even gods can fall for that." he speed of Mithrix's hammer takes Liza off guard --she's not precognitive-- but her uncanny last second speed and intuition, almost reminiscent of dumb luck, saves her from a direct hit. She already had the e-shield on her back to bodyblock the flying enemies earlier, so pivoting (with a burst of EVA verniers) to dive away causes the hammerhead to strike the thing designed to protect her, launching her to the edge of the area, tumbling until her back hits a square pillar, but without serious damage. Lunging back up and sprinting very-unlike someone who should have fractures, she unlimbers the 10mm she still has ammunition for and begins pouring automatic fire into Mithrix's circling around to dump magazines into his back when he attacks someone else, and slowing down to aim for the helmet's eyeslit when he faces her. The second Red Dwarf throws his grenade, Liza intuitively unhooks two of her own, not quite such a pitcher, but finding, unpinning, and throwing them both in a single motion. One is a simple flash, having no explosive force to disrupt the Redshift's arc, but to blind Mithrix to where it is. The second explodes into frictionless gel under his feet, to make hitting it back with his hammer impossible.
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	Hiromi's assertion causes a moment's hesitation in Mithrix--enough that her fist lands a clean blow upon his chin. He's knocked backwards, learning his lesson more quickly than his dazed body is able to recover. His warding strikes are clumsy, at first, until he finds his footing. It's all he can do to keep up with her, before your golden golem ally tips the scale even further against Mithrix. Aurelionite's fist crashes into the ground, and Mithrix makes an incredible vertical to avoid the cratering impact. He's without the gift of flight, however--making him a prime target for the Redshifts. Even as fast as he falls, weighed down by that hammer, it's easy for Red Dwarf, White Dwarf and Liza to lead their attacks. Mithrix is riddled with bullets and knocked sideways by the grenade, being unable to track its passage. A crack travels up the length of his helmet. Recovering from Liza's flash, Mithrix manages to clear the frictionless gel at the last minute, but catches Kukuru's attack upon landing as a result. "The people who loved me, to the last, chose something else over me," says Mithrix, as Kukuru's claws dig into his back. The haft of the hammer shoots backwards in a counter-attack, unable to properly face Kukuru thanks to Hiromi's constant pressure. "Whether it was a grand statement or a futile effort, I was always second."
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	"I don't like the way you've chosen to mourn her," Liza has her answer. "I'm not 'choosing' anything over you, just because I won't let you destroy in your pain," Providence's laser sweeps across the battlefield, forcing Mithrix into a full on evasive retreat. "MY PAIN IS BECAUSE OF YOU!" The hammer driven into the ground, Mithrix roars in fury and retaliates. Burning blue flame sprouts from the floor of the arena, radiating outward from him like the spokes of a wheel. It flares up in erratic pulses, briefly creating walls of white-hot fire. "My garden functions exactly as it was built to--perfect, timeless, a reflection of the soul it was made to honor!!" The shifting columns of fire make it difficult to close in--as does the arrival of a contingent of his sterile, pearl-white creations, which he's recalled from fighting your allies to bring to bear against you. Glimmering needles of energy fly through the air with the sound of chiming crystal, each sharp enough to stick halfway into the hard floor of the arena.
Kukuru	"That's not how love works!" Kukuru asserts forcefully as she hangs onto Mithrix's back for dear life, not quite willing to let go while also not quite wanting to stay there as long as he's swinging that hammer around back at her. "People don't just stop loving each other because they love someone else. Love isn't a bottle that gets emptied out because one person's drinking all of it." She lets go/throws herself off at the last moment, but her timing could be better as she sees the flames coming at her just as she lands on the ground again. With little chance to move, Kukuru curls up as much as she can (not very much) to try and weather the flames, and she's left with terrible burns all over for her trouble. Healing nanites certainly help to dull the pain, but the drain on her body is evident from the more haggard breathing and still-pink wounds visible through the holes in her outfit. "Love is like a... A geyser! The more you use that water, the more comes out for everybody, and then everyone's happy." As she makes that horribly incorrect analogy, Kukuru starts approaching Mithrix once more, sparing a quick glance at those needle-launching drones as they start to appear. Instead of trying to run past them, she launches herself upwards at the nearest one, trying to grab onto it in mid-leap. She flips forward in midair to build up momentum, then flings it at Mithrix's upper body with all her might before falling into another portal. "Nobody can hold all that pressure in when they have so much love to give. That's why they want to share it, and then everyone can be even happier than being alone." She's still going on about that as she falls out of another cloud just below Mithrix, landing near one of the giant's legs. "You don't have to be alone anymore, either. You just have to let us in. No first, no second, no numbers." Her claws rest against one of those giant feet, almost like she's trying to soothe him briefly with that touch, and then she digs those claws in with her love-tirade idiot strength before yanking backwards to try and sweep him off his feet in the most literal sense.
Redshift Operators	"Because of him?" A ninja observes the dozens of future selves impaled by needles, and carefully maneuvers her blade and body to weave between them, jarred brutally. "You're still grieving a death and he's all you have left!" She keeps yanking her partner in crime to one side or the other, avoiding only where the bursts of fire are pulsing and never where it's simply passing. "But in the end, a truth must be acknowledged before you are consumed by it. He tried to help you, and he failed." "Bring it in! I can't get another one close like this!" "You believe I have a greater chance?" "Do the damn predictions!" "Under this storm of needles? ...Maybe." "I got one left, go!" The ninja rushes past the gunman's side, snatching another grenade. And after another burst of obscuring flashing fire, she's closing fast on the king of the moon between the fire-pulses. Her voice seems to shout from all around: "And without anyone to strike out to defend yourself, you strike at him and what he cares about instead." She rushes straight up into his face, seemingly... enduring the storm of needles, completely? She rushes up towards him in a rapid dash... and then, poof. It's Goobo Junior! "He tried, and failed. But it seems you have a habit of discarding everything unworthy that displeases you, don't you?" The ninja, finally given a chance to execute a proper clone jutsu, tries to dive in from behind, between one of those pulses. She tries to plunge the blade deep in the crack on the helmet and wrench it open just enough to plant the second of her ally's two Syndicate Minibomb grenades, then kick off. "And that will leave you as alone as you fear being, if you let it."
Liza Grier	"So perfect and timeless that it went out on a ship in bits and pieces to make money." Liza isn't usually the type to reply to every little thing an enemy says, but just part of that bugs her enough to speak between swapping out to a coffin mag and dive rolling out of the way of a pillar of blue fire. "This isn't a fucking philosophical disagreement. This is a real place in a real universe that real people can get to and use for real things, where real people are living and dying. Even if you pretend it's 'ideological', that it's all about you and your pain and your rightness and his wrongness, reality already came knocking, and you're gonna have to live with the fact that none of it fucking mattered when the consequences come due." Liza sidesteps between bursts of needle fire, turning aside from a burst of crystals and gunning down the attacker in the same movement. Ducking under the neck and spinning it into a kneeling stance to shoot down another. Rolling away from a third and retaliating with an automatic burst from prone. Jumping up under the fourth that hits the shield still mounted on her back and firing over her shoulder. "Or don't. I can arrange that too." Brief consideration is given to the increasing intensity of attacks and number of enemies. The fact that this is the final stretch, with the survivors escaping at that very moment, is what tips Liza's decision over. It's been barely fifteen minutes, but that's enough for a reload and a patch job, for the second time today, a column of ruby light drops down from orbit and engulfs her in a single solid beam. EXO CLASS: DARK MAULER - SUCCESSFUL ACTIVATION. SYSTEMS GREEN. HULL INTENGRITY 80%. WEAPONS FREE. REMANDING FULL COMBAT CONTROLS TO PILOT. The hulking black terror comes charging through the storm of minions at a breakneck pace. Thundering, sprinting stomps are broken up by blasts of rocket propulsion as it closes in on Mithrix. Red light streaks from its flaring optics. Needles ping and shatter on its armour more often than they find purchase. Contact with a low-flying construct shatters it with the sheer force of impact. Point defense lasers are set to ignore projectiles and instead focus on shooting down the flying drones all around it, creating a trail of superheated eruptions. Two refreshed missile pods swing up and open silos over its shoulders. A giant automatic shotgun is primed manually with a mechanical hand racking the bolt. An enormous, industrial-brutalist blade, superheated, springs from the other arm. Liza ploughs straight through a column of flame. Conduits overheat and pop. Sparks spray and warnings light up all over the cockpit. All missiles are already firing the instant she's through. The blade swings out to parry the hammer with superhuman strength, or drive it into Mithrix to pin him, whichever is quicker. The shotgun is brought to bear point blank, and a twenty round drum goes off with a sound lime a bombing run. "You know, I keep a garden too. You'd realize how different it is from a blood-spattered atelier, if you ever looked and saw them side by side."
Redshift Operators	"He thinks he's going to be the one using them. Because he's a god and they're humans. He doesn't know what a company, a system, really is. He thinks he'll master it just like he thinks he would that many people. Critically fucking mistaken, as always. Even gods can fall for that." The gunman is left behind in this scheme, blasting away with less armor-piercing munitions. He calls out to Liza in reply to her: "No goddamn kidding. If he can't master it, UES will own the galaxy in the worst goddamn way. If he can master it, everything goes straight to hell. Either way the system's gonna poison this. We can't let it happen." Unspoken is the soft anxiousness that the wheels might already be in motion, that UES knows the coordinates and this might already be ruined, that they'll send someone who doesn't have the sense that the Captain does. And they might get their hands on everything on this moon, unless...
Hiromi	...a fastball that threatens to airburst directly next to Mithrix's head with force designed to turn humans and space station structure alike into chunks. This still isn't enough to get Hiromi to leave off, though her footwork carries her to the opposite side of her opponent from the explosives, both from Liza and the Operator, just in time. Being close to the target makes for multiple types of danger. Providence is knocked across the arena, nearly sliding off... Hiromi glances that way without turning her head. "What did I say? Fight your 'impossible' fight. Reach for your future, with your own strength. Encouragment, still needed? This belongs here." She pulls away the warbanner she carries, tossing it to the side, forcefully enough to embed into the floor near where Providence had been thrown, and near enough to where he must stand to sweep the field with his laser. 'The people who loved me, to the last, chose something else over me.' "Did you grow?" The word overlaps in meaning. Change. Maturation. Improvement. Iteration toward a cohesive, meaningful whole. "When they made you feel, you weren't enough. Or, did you blame them?" Hiromi's not here to spare feelings. It's not even a conviction toward a conclusion that empowers her speech, but a rolling, unstoppable weight that won't be redirected. Her strikes are likewise. '--perfect, timeless, a reflection of the soul it was made to honor!!' "Is that what she wanted from you?" Hiromi's curiosity could even be genuine. It must be, on some level. She doesn't have the care to dissemble. Fires burn, and Hiromi travels through them. Cloth can hardly survive where skin does not, but the heat transferred to her bronze rings seems not to bother her at all, as much as it must remain, even when her flesh regenerates. It would be difficult to imagine this isn't costing her something, mitigated only by the fact that she kicks off the ground to blow through quickly, never slowing, never giving the columns time to consume her whole. For all that she gives voice to it, on the other hand, it's a meaningless effort. Neither the pain before the flames reach her nerves, nor the fresh flesh that replaces what had been destroyed gives her the kind of pain that requires speech. Each lifeless 'thing' that stands in her way is grabbed, spun, and thrown in the opposite direction, leapt over and kicked, or dived through, as much fueling her charge as they slow or distract her. Never do her eyes leave Mithrix, not even as she reaches him, flames still burning at the edges of her regrown hair, smoke trailing the entire path behind her. "Choosing to correct family, this is also love." Each not-word is at once simple and understandable, in the way a child, or a voiceless animal, can fathom, and layered in the multitude of understandings gleaned from centuries of life and thought. A family can be many things, all of them bonds of companionship and safety. Love is many things, compassion among them, whether delivered hard or soft. Like most of her, Hiromi's grip is hard. It's an everything-crushing vise, and for her to release someone, as she makes to do for Mithrix, in the process of throwing him at the ground in front of his a brother, is a mercy, all told.
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	Mithrix is capable of fighting even while making his psychic attack--but he's flagging. Goobo throws him off, drawing a mistaken swipe from the hammer and leaving him wide open for White Dwarf's surprise attack. The helmet is pried completely off, revealing his cyclopic, but otherwise featureless face, the same pale white as Commencement down below. With it gone, the expression is more visible in that blue eye--when it flares with anger, or softens with something else. There's more of the latter than the former, as the fight goes on. There's more anger in the swings of his hammer, as he tries in vain to swat Liza's missles from the air, even as her shotgun tears into him and Kukuru's hurled drone collides with his chest. But having seen that look in Providence's eye, the emotion is easier to pin--regret. It only grows stronger, until a silvery, luminous tear trapped at its triple point creeps out. Constructs, broken, rain down around him as Kukuru yanks him off his feet. Toppled, he's got no easy way to defend when Hiromi charges. The alien god is tough, but not nearly enough to break from her grapple, no matter how furiously he tries. Thrown towards his brother, he attempts to get back up--but the flat of Providence's sword crashes into his chest and drives him back down. "...no. She didn't ask this of me." His body is covered in blue, luminescent wounds, as if something inside were burning a hole through him from within. Some are in the shape of Kukuru's claws; others, the impacts from Hiromi's fists, or the considerable combined armaments of Liza and the Redshifts. "She would be ashamed of me. For those..." He doesn't rise, but he nods towards Liza and the Redshifts. "Exact reasons. She believed in the sanctity of life, and I've put myself above it." "They're all right, brother. Of course I love you--but I should have stopped you long before now. ...I should have protested, when you had me lock Aurelionite away. That doesn't even begin to cover the danger you've put this place in." There are no more drones--but there are confused reports coming from your allies, about the moon's defenses suddenly shutting down, all the way across the grand, splintered walkway.
Kukuru	Mithrix is down, and Kukuru is no longer in danger of being on fire! Instead, she's putting herself in potentially more danger as she circles around the fallen Mithrix, putting her giant claws back into her pockets as she stops by his giant alien head. Eyeing the wounds, she looks towards her allies first, then reaches for Mithrix's face. The touch is gentle, soothing even, in both the figurative comforting way and the literal healing way. She's still a healer by trade, after all, and she's putting that same energy she had used to soothe those horrible burning wounds to now begin the relatively slower process of patching up Mithrix's battle-wounds. Kukuru looks towards Hiromi briefly, still keeping her nanites flowing around Mithrix to try and take some of that sting from the fresher wounds out. "She would be ashamed, but only if you kept going ahead with all this. If you keep digging in your heels and don't do anything to make up with your brother." She gestures at Red Dwarf and Liza next, then squats in place. "It's not too late to keep... Uh. All of that bad stuff from happening, either. You and Provi might not be able to fix it all right away, but... You just gotta take it one step at a time, then. Stop the bad stuff now, then work on fixing it back up as you go. It might not be the same as it was before, but that doesn't mean you can't still try your best, right?" Kukuru looks at Providence, then not-so-subtly gestures at him to come over with her other hand. Now's his chance!
Hiromi	Hiromi very probably doesn't understand what the business with UES is, nor why it worries Red Dwarf and Liza. That, or she doesn't care. Maybe both. But she does, looking over at Providence and Mithrix, look satisfied with the result. Her body -- if only her body -- has perfectly regenerated, leaving Kukuru to care for the others. Shaking her hair hard, once, puts out the lingering flames. Hiromi steps over the scorch marks and the crystal wreckage, and stretches, letting her eyes scan over Kukuru, Liza, and the Redshifts, before settling back onto Providence, to nod her approval. 'I should have stopped you long before now.' "Do better. Now, you have chances."
Redshift Operators	It takes a moment for the ninja to regroup with her partner, the gunman. The gun stays trained on the king, though the trigger finger slips gently into the guard. "Past is past. Whatever happened, happened. Now, you choose whatever lets you do good, big guy. You choose what you want. And maybe everyone doesn't forgive you, maybe all the damage doesn't get undone. But if you're strong enough to go out and stomp the galaxy, you can be strong enough to live with one brother's unconditional fuckin' love, and getting to make someone real important proud eventually." His partner, the ninja, strides next to him, dramatically sheathing her sword. "He is a failure in manifesting that love. Just as you suffered, so did he, and just as you made unwise choices in that time, so did he. You can decide to change, or you may decide to continue." She strikes a dramatic pose, fingers brushing back hair and a palm dramatically covering the left eye of her goggles. "I predict... should you change, you will find less misery. Certainly. Is that your wish?" "..." The gunman glances aside, at the remains of the drones. "UES bastards are gonna be here any day now, though. To pick up 'their discovery'. 'Their weapons'." He looks to Mithrix. He's feeling conflicted, and just slightly unsure of where he means to go with this. It's a problem, though.
Liza Grier	Liza is not very happy with having a beaten demigod at her mauler's gunpoint twice in one day (considerably worse for wear the second time) and not having the pleasure of simply pulling the trigger. It's always difficult, when the bad guy surrenders and shows genuine comprehension and remorse; when he was never quite that far gone to begin with. It'd always be more satisfying, feel more right, to ignore them like they ignored everyone beneath them, and erase them. It's especially hard from this vantage of so much intoxicating strength and size and firepower at her fingertips. But she decided, years ago, however reluctantly, that it can't exist in the same breath as the message she wants to send with her life. It aches not to put an 80mm blast of buckshot through Mithrix, but she'd spared Providence, and he's far from blameless too. Liza listens to the radio babble, frowning inside the cockpit. The reminder of just how many lives are objectively in the balance of this decision puts her ill at ease. It makes it feel as if it isn't really hers. Like she's some cowardly utilitarian. But . . . "Big words. If you've had a change of heart all of a sudden, what are you going to do about it?"
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	"That's my wish," Mithrix answers White Dwarf. But Liza asks the important question. What'll he do to prove it? "And so, if my brother will lift the shackles on the planet, I will construct a ship that can carry him and... and the..." He struggles to find a word. "...little ones somewhere they'll be safe." What about you? Mithrix gently slides his brother's sword away. Providence, taking Kukuru's cue, steps closer, and offers him a hand. Standing, now, but still quite exhausted, Mithrix answers. "When you find a suitable world, call out to me, if you'd like my help. For the time being, I need to start dismantling my inventions. This... UES shouldn't find anything dangerous here, wittingly or otherwise, by the time I'm finished." Blue contrails follow a large, blocky escape craft as it flies, unharmed, towards the stars. The Safe Travels confirms arrival via radio, her captain promising 'swift and accurate' delivery of his report. in His tone promises the real thing will be neither. Liza receives a pre-recorded comms message from the Captain, some time after. Mithrix will have a substantial headstart, at least. After watching them go, the King of Nothing silently makes for the edge of the platform. "I could use your help building the ship, brother," says Mithrix. "The designs that you and I worked on were... some of our best." "Of course. I'll... meet you in your workshop." Providence gathers his sword, hanging it upon his back. "I owe you all... everything. I have my brother back. My greatest creation is free. I know what a precious thing this second chance you've given us is." His eye weighs on Hiromi and Liza in particular, when he admits this. "I'd like you all to have something. I... wrote it, in hopes that N'kuhana's sacrifice would work. I don't want the 'company' to find it." A tablet. One becomes many--copies of the same thing, pulled from different points in time. It's light, but feels too light for what it is; for the message of the words upon it. As Providence wills, its alien language is laid plain for you to read:
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	A eulogy for the victors of spiritual warfare: This is a message from me to you. Though in life you will stumble, stammer and fall - though you will lose your loved ones and shed more tears than your eyes can muster - in time you can find peace on the planets you call home. A small creature waiting quietly for you, a smiling face from another stream, the silence as you breathe in the scent of a new season. Let your heart remind you why you are here; let it tell you something new and something old. A mind remembers, but a heart knows. I love me so that I can love you too - I've wanted to disappear before, but I've always wanted to return to see you. The grass and the leaves, the warmth of the sun and the insects at night. I promised myself, and I promise you: A victory is the reward of cumulative loss, ever present as a light at the end of the tunnel. Even in death, there is the lingering promise of new life - forever doomed to repeat the cycle. It's getting dark. If you get lost it's alright, for now. I hope you enjoy the shooting stars. Rest in peace. Providence's steed carries him off, as the Safe Travels sends down the escape shuttle. It arrives in the arena within two minutes, making for a brisk, quiet ride back aboard the Captain's ship.