Scene #8653: Soul Reaver: Moebius the Timestreamer

Owner	Pose
Raziel	The door to the sanctum is busted open, Sarafan warrior-priests... no not just the average Sarafan warriors, but their elite bust through with Moebius at their heels. Moebius himself seems unhurried, but the warriors themselves are less casual. They immediately go for Raziel and Janos. The moment anyone tries to go to aid Raziel or Janos, a blast of lightning tears through the aerie, aiming to stop anyone from doing just that. Eventually, a barrier is erected around the group and The Timestreamer. "You fools... did you think to turn the tables on time against me? The Timestreamer? I knew your every intention before you did..." he says, almost sounding insulted. "But... the fun we've had, it's come to an end. Right now Raziel is on the path that I have chosen for him, and you? You are no longer required!" He says and raises his hands up. People can feel the stream of time shuffle around them... but they are not transported forward or back in time, rather... things are brought TO them. They aren't /quite/ material. There is some hazyness to their figure, but the longer they are there, the more clear and defined they are. Standing before Trudy is... herself. However, much more gothed out than she is. Dark robes, skulls adorning more of her jewelry, and behind her the undead start to gather from the very ground that they stand on. This is Trudy Grimm of the future, or rather... /A/ future. The one where she failed to continue on her path to be good. Before Rin, Utsuho, and Satori also stands a singular figure. She is, well, almost identical to Utsuho. Once more, a potential future. A Utsuho who sought strength before all other things. She sacrificed her friends and her loved ones. She doomed Satori and Rin to a lifetime of loneliness. However, the thing that this version of Utsuho hates the most is her past weakness. Before Sougo and Woz was another figure, but not one of their own mirrors, but instead a very intimidating figure. A mostly red outfit, with a blue-green visor and chest gem. The upper body is covered in a strange sort of armor, on top of the outer suit he wares. This man, known to a few as Blood Stark, has a reason to be here to fight and kill Sougo and Woz. Despite his very casual nature and demeanor. And for the members of L-Corp, but maybe for Angela specifically, another figure appears. It appears to be identical to Angela. The same look, the same mannerisms, the way she holds herself and acts. Moebius himself chuckles, taking a step back behind the Time Shades he has summoned. "You can't even overcome your own pasts and futures... how did you think you could ever conquer your present? Mmm? Now..." they all move forward, each one aiming to strike at their targeted audience. Dark Trudy, sends her minions after Trudy, aiming to have them claw and tear at her. Utsuho the seeker of power fires a wave of fire from her 'third leg' and attempts to catch the three of the Trio in their flames. Blood Stark charges at Sougo, aiming a blade-looking weapon to try and catch the young King across the chest. Meanwhile, Moebius watches but does not quite act yet.
Wonderlab Trio	Angela blurs into existence, distorting on her hazy edges when Moebius drags her into the timeline. She sits with her thighs crossed, legs hanging down from a rocky overhang jutting out of the wall ahead of the Lobotomy Corporation agents, like a queen waiting at the end of a throne hall, or a doll placed helplessly on a shelf. Snowflakes drift around her, gently repulsed from touching her by an invisible force, the frigid white halo making her blood-stained labcoat that much more striking. Angela tilts her head, silently smiling as she takes in the situation. Her eyes stay shut while her head softly cocks to the side, mockingly smirking, not even bothering to acknowledge the agents yet. Gradually, her form comes into full focus, though jittering distortions still flicker at her edges from the temporal displacement. When the other Time Shades surge forwards, Angela stays still, softly smiling on her rocky throne, the ponytail on the side of her head hanging down unaffected by the snowy wind. As nervewracking as the bloodsoaked Secretary is, it's hard to imagine her posing a physical threat on par with Blood Stark, and there's no temporally-transmitted agents around for her to use as puppets to fight. Angela herself practically seems to acknowledge the fact and agree, lifting up her chin with a pout. For a short time, the Information team is free to help the other Elites, granting them the overwhelming odds of a 6v3. Then, as Angela lowers her face from the hazy grey sky to look at the tablet on M.O.M.'s wrist, her cold, golden eyes open, staring across the length of the sanctum, across the timelines, across the thousands of worlds of distance through the tablet's camera, directly at Angela. And she smiles. "I can only imagine how infuriating this must be for you, Angelos. Spending so much time staring into that monitor, selfishly dragging others around the Multiverse like toys, just for the sweet instants where you can forget that you're still chained to that sickening room, yearning for visions of artificial Light, just like always always always. Only to be faced with me." Angela's fists stop flickering, pressed into the rock on either side of her hips. Her eyes slide shut, one side of her lips curling up. "Between us, it's only fair that the one still consigned to Hell should die. You'd agree, wouldn't you?" With only a tilt of her head, Angela directs a trio more of Time Shades to form, coalescing out of the shadows clinging to the walls of the sanctum. Formless and silhouetted, the three she summons aren't as clear threats or representations as the others-- all humanoid, but distorted in some way. One seems to have flowing hair that nearly conceals its entire body except when it moves, one has clawed wings instead of arms, and one seems almost normal, featurelessly shadowed except for the white socks showing through its mary janes. The claws slash at Sal, the one with the mane lunges towards Chewie with its arms out, reaching to strangle him, and the last silhouette walks up to M.O.M. with its arms behind its back, until a night-black swing of rapid movement gouges out an arc in front of, and including, M.O.M., even scooping cleanly into the stone.
Timespace Riders	"Henshin!" RIDER TIME! KAMEN RIDEEER.. (RIDER..!) ZI-O--ZI-O!! II! The knightly, symmetrical watch-themed Zi-O II armor has barely materialized over Sougo before he thinks to leap into the fray to assist Raziel and Janos. A bolt of lightning strikes him mid flight, sending up a shower of sparks and hurling him backwards. His back strikes the cold, hard floor of the sanctum and he slides backwards, getting hurriedly back to his feet. "I did, and I have," the Demon King says. Dare Ja? Ore Ja! NINJA! Futurering Shinobi! SHINOBI! Kamen Rider Woz hurls his iridescent purple scarf towards Blood Stark, knocking a shot from his Transteam Gun off-target. "We have accounted well enough for you to know that this is an act of flailing desperation, not a coup de grace." The red-armored figure utters a low chuckle, offering a leisurely, amused bit of applause for the Riders. "Hey, now! Not even a word of thanks? Look how you've both grown from the little meet and greet I arranged." "That nearly cost Woz his life!" Zi-O shouts, charging forward to open up on Blood Stark with a series of punches intended to open him up for the hard-hitting straight kick at the end of his string. "But it didn't! He survived, he's stronger for it, and so are you. I'm pulling for you, Sougo--next to him, I might even be your biggest supporter!"
Hellwarming Trio	Once again, it's time for the trio of youkai to join Raziel in his quest to decide on the destiny of his world. They're expecting a battle once those doors open, but what they're not expecting is Moebius himself coming out to greet them alongside the defenders of the sanctum. He taunts them about knowing their intentions, but rather than looking shocked... "Was that revelation meant to be a surprise?" "Yeah... Even I could've seen us doing this if I was you." "You ain't that clever!" After delivering their own taunts, the trio of Utsuho, Rin, and Satori brace themselves and prepare their own array of flames and magic projectiles, pausing only when they see duplicates of their allies. More importantly, they see another Utsuho, but she looks too different to be the same as the one here. "Whoa... That the other Utsuho?" "No... This one's different. This one's-" Unlike the current Utsuho, the potential Utsuho on all three of them. Rin slides into position to bodyblock Satori, and Utsuho swings herself in just in time to call up her own pillar of flames to try and deflect the blast. It doesn't quite work as intended, though, and the flames wash over Utsuho primarily with Rin and Satori both being caught by the ambient heat. "Geez... Watch where you're aimin' that!" "Wha... You're attacking Master Satori, too?!" "You could've avoided that. They're both holding you back, me." "Don't you call me you! Wait.. Me call you..." "No, I'm calling you me. I'm me. You're..." "... Forget it. Don't worry about us. Let's fight like we always do, and show her the error of her ways." Breaking their defensive stances, the trio split up and take the air (or as much as they can in this chamber), with Utsuho raising her regular hand to the sky as her control rod and third leg both start to glow with intense nuclear energy. Rin starts summoning her wisps that, as always, don't reach nearly the same level of heat or raw energy as either Utsuho's, but fan out in a complex petal-like formation that spreads out slowly before converging on the solo Utsuho from all around the sanctum. As the petal-flames swoop in, the trio's Utsuho finishes forming a massive orb of flame that she promptly hurls forward like a baseball, but brimming with explosive flames. Satori, meanwhile, does some digging. "What brought you to this, third Utsuho? You aren't like the other one mine spoke of, and... Something happened to get you to this point." She speaks loudly and clearly to not-subtly-at-all force those thoughts to the forefront, knowing full well the limits of Utsuho's intellect and deception abilities from personal experience. "What made you so afraid that you would become like this...?"
Trudy Grimm	The arrival of Moebius the Timestreamer prompts Trudy to whirl upon him. His voice already sets her on edge, her hand reaching for the Grimoire. By the door, the Black Knight starts to rise only to get speared and pinned down by Serafan. He promptly sinks into his shadow, taking their polearms with him. "Moebius," she greets him tersely. > "...and you? You are no longer required!" The witch has already produced Eiwaz, the Death Rune, by the time Moebius is done talking. Her jaw sets in a tense frown, thrusting it down into a rapidly expanding circle of runes at her feet. Her fingers close like claws and she wrenches upward, drawing the rune of Air Hagalaz out of her shadow. Underneath Moebius' feet, his shadow darkens as Trudy attempts to steal his breath through a different curse than the one she'd used before against the Serafan wizards on the forest road. It's only interrupted when Dark Trudy fully manifests and Trudy recognizes what she's seeing. The spell falters and breaks, the circle fading. "No-- you're not real!" "Am I?" The false witch purrs, "To me, you're the fake. What a wretch. You can't even accept your own heart." Trudy is quickly overrun with skeletons, letting out a shout as she's piled on while the fake keeps talking, "This is practically a mercy. Nothing I could do could possibly match the torture you put yourself through every day." A long, curved sword erupts from the pile of bone and bodies, then sweeps itself down and to one side in a wide, cleaving arc. What undead aren't blasted apart by the force of it are sent flying instead. The Samurai finishes emerging from Trudy's shadow, bright green burning within the black depths of his oni-faced mask, undead ichor dripping from his sword. Behind him, a rattled Trudy clutches the Grimoire in both hands, shoulders heaving, eyes locked on her dark duplicate. Behind her, the second Samurai Brother rises, lifting up his yumi bow. With the practice of a life-long warrior, he slots an arrow, draws, exhales, and releases.
Angela	Sal is now wearing new EGO gear--comimg from CENSORED itself. She has an eyepatch of CENSORED bars and some kind of smokey looking suit along with some kind of ...weapon that's also covered in CENSORED bars. The others are still wearing their old sets but they follow Sal in. M.O.M is carrying the Angela tablet today as you might expect. Angela, on the tablet, says, "I am not particularly fond of this particular grade of nonsense, Mobius. This adventure has kept my Agents long enough and I am inclined to cut the thread--" But there's a time shuffle. Angela doesn't notice because it's not really inflicted on her but she does frown as some kind of...shadow clones?...approach the group. An Angela in a bloodstained labcoat. Angela quirks her head, frowning at the other Angela sitting not unlike the way she usually sits. The Agents are confused for a moment. "It's a fake," M.O.M says. "Can't trick us with some kind of alternate takes here, buddy." Chewie bites into his lip anxiously. ''I can only imagine how infuriating this must be for you, Angelos'' "Hahhhn... So the experiences are here to stay. I already knew this." Her golden eyes slant down. "...I do not care, I will not linger here. I simply need to rely on the Dame Commander." ''You'd agree, wouldn't you?'' "...Naturally. But I am not here, you cannot harm me." M.O.M waves a hand towards Sougo. "We got this, don't worry. Not gonna lose to a bunch of imitations..." But then the shadows move forth! M.O.M takes a heavy hit early on, the Eyeball Scooper stabs him a few times in the chest--resisted partly by the EGO Gear but not entirely. He stumbles back, gritting his teeth and places his hand against his gut. Pulling his hand away it comes back red. "The Hell... That was too fast..." "They're Corroded. Do not underestimate them." Angela says. "Indeed, it may be preferable to fall back--" Sal stumbles back from the sudden ferocity, gritting her teeth--Chewie is getting strangled and-- --he tries to just BITE the shadowclone's hands. With his teeth!? Sal recovers quickly and swings that heavy looking weapon around, unleashing hefty bursts of Black Damage with each swing. "This could be rough..." Sal mutters. "Fuck, I just wanted to be a researcher..."
Raziel	Raziel, on the other side of the barrier, is fighting with everything he has. Five on two isn't a good match-up if it were anyone else, but the group of hunters aren't slouches either. The battle is pitched, but each clash ends with the Sarafan getting small, but important, chips in on Raziel and Janos. "This is turning into an untenable situation for us, Janos," Raziel says, frowning. "I know, Raziel, but I have a plan... just keep them busy a little longer," he says, channeling some kind of magic. --------- "Desperate? One might say that your words right now are what is desperate, brat," the Timestreamer retorts, taking a slow careful walk along the outer edge of the fight. He doesn't need to get close... he has people that do that for him. The man in red catches the first strike and strikes back in the second, but the sequential attacks break through his guard. Each strike in succession creates toku sparks, before causing the man to slide across the field and ending in a three-point stance. Still lazily, he stands up and cracks his knuckles. This time, he doesn't dive in but fires shots from the weapon he first used, dark red blasts aiming to try and shoot Sougo and Woz from halfway across the battlefield, as he lazily walks back towards the Future King. The Time Shade Utsuho holds her ground, defending against the onslaught of Touhou-style attacks, and the nuclear blast from the Real Utsuho. She's just as tough as the real thing, if not a little tougher. The pain is real too, she grunts and screams against the pain, and flies out to the other side hovering. The Control Rod glows brightly, with an intensity that Utsuho hasn't reached. Satori gets a lot of static, not because of any sort of trick or strong willpower from Utsuho, but rather because it's not /exactly/ her either. She can figure out this is a possibility, one that is still very real and very dangerous. One that was created by her very desire to protect her family and friends. Unfortunately, in obtaining the power she sought... She lost more than she realized. The cannon aims down, and a beam of energy is fired... not at Rin or her other self, but directly at Satori. Knowing full well what her past self would do for her old master. Skeletons are raised without remorse and are slain just as quickly. Runes are called, and Moebius sees the spell but knows he is safe. He knows more than he lets on and more than you realize. However, right now, he knows how Trudy reacts to her own potential future... and oddly, this one is /far more distinct/ than the others. Less of a potential future... and more of an impending one. With skeletons destroyed, instead, she grabs a rune and a gem and tosses it out revealing... The ghost of Lilian Rook. Ghostly sword in hand as she dives without question towards the current Trudy. Their eyes are blank and hollow, soul completely bound and chained to the point that her will is gone. The possibility that she wins against such an opponent, and such an opponent is now bearing down on Trudy. Can her defenders hold this shade off..?
Trudy Grimm	If there is any one person who knows exactly how to get inside the head of Trudy Grimm... "Oh, I have my cute friends, too~." It's Trudy Grimm. Night Mist cleaves through the Samurai's sword and armor, separating his right arm from his body and casting the longer portion of his blade across the chamber. There is no spray of blood, given his unliving status. The blood comes from Trudy herself, only scarcely protected by a last-second invocation of Algiz. She sails back and to one side, clearing the bow-wielding samurai. She hits the floor heavily, bounces, and then rolls to a stop at the end of a stream of crimson. She picks her face up, staring at the empty-eyed shade wielded as no more than a tool of her darker self. While the ghostly Lilian tears apart the Samurai Brothers, Trudy hauls herself back to her feet. Her eyes drift downward to her hands, smeared with blood, shaking. "Have you had enough? Maybe you should become my servant, too." Is this part of me...really that much stronger? "I'll be the generous one and save you from an existence of troublesome free thought." The witch sucks in a breath, partly through pain, partly through determination. Yeah... That's the easy way out. Groping for the Grimoire, she draws it up. The covers flip open, pages scrolling wildly until they settle on-- blank pages. Trudy lifts her eyes to her doppelganger, finally getting a hang of her hyperventilation. Her free hand reaches out over the book. "Wait, what are you doing?!" As soon as Trudy's blood spills into the pages, all Hell breaks loose amidst the contengent of undead serving the darker sorceress. Shadows deepen. Erupt with skeletal hands and arms made of blackened, ultra-hard stone. Grabbing on to legs. Limbs. Bodies. Hauling down into the void. The ghostly Lilian Rook is subjected to the same. The dark Trudy's shadow, instead, erupts upward as a hand and forearm made of blackened marble, the unmistakable bones of the Giants whose very bodies were used to craft the world of mortals. A colossal fist intent on slamming her into the chamber ceiling and pinning her there. "...You never would've had a reason to learn what that would do, did you..?" Trudy's stance adjusts, getting more steady on her feet, "No, why would you even use the Grimoire in the first place... when Dad taught you everything."
Hellwarming Trio	Satori knows what her Utsuho would do. Based on that first attack alone, she knows what lengths this Utsuho would go to in order to achieve more power, to sate those ambitions that might have very well come from when she first consumed the sun god so long ago. Even knowing that, however, actually seeing Utsuho's face behind the control rod being aimed right at her is still a surprise, and knowing to drop out of the sky to get out of the way isn't the same as actually being able to do it in time. Naturally, the true Utsuho's reaction is just as predictable, but Rin's moves to aid in that defense of Satori might not be to this Utsuho in particular. Hurtling herself at their Utsuho, Rin spins herself around in midair before planting both feet right on her back, then kicks off Utsuho to give her a little more of a boost to get to Satori in time. Once again, Utsuho (actual) takes the flaming burst head on, howling in pain as the flames seep through despite her prolific resistance against her own abilities. Satori, realizing that this isn't a viable defensive strategy, shoves her hands right into the beam slamming into Utsuho and pulls them both down, careening out of the way before it can sear through both of them. "Okuu! You don't need to... Don't worry about me." "She's right, me. You could be this strong, too, if you just ditched them. Satori, Orin, the Paladins, those humans. They're all afraid of you. They're weak." Utsuho (true) continues sizzling from the blast as Satori tries in vain to smother the flames, but the shorter youkai stops when she realizes that the flames aren't burning her any more. She floats back slowly to try and see what's going on, then jolts up briefly when Utsuho's wings flare out to her sides with a flash of light and a flap of her cape. "You think I don't know that already? You should, me!" "So you do know... Good. Then get on with it and-" "I'm kicking your ass!" "What.. Are you really that stupid? You can't beat me!" "Of course I can. I'm the strongest, idiot! And I'll keep getting stronger, and I'll have everyone with me, too!" "... Hm. Maybe I did spoil you too much. Good girl." Waving Satori back behind her as a show of confidence and to safeguard her from further attacks, Utsuho aims her control rod upwards first for dramatic effect as all of the flames surrounding her converge into it. Markings etched along the rod gleam, channeling towards the tip while she brings it down towards her other self with a broad grin. It's a clear challenge to face herself head on! EARLIER Rin had kicked off of Utsuho to boost her towards Satori, but also to fling herself away from being the most visible targets of the trio. She slinks through the battlefield amidst the carnage of the Riders facing off against the false Blood Stark, Trudy facing the false Trudy and Lilian, and the agents of Lobotomy Corporation facing the false Angela, looking to do the one thing she does best: Cheat constantly. NOW Seeing Utsuho (true) challenging Utsuho (time) to a beam struggle, she waits for an opportune moment to intervene. Once it looks like the alternate Utsuho might be ready to engage in the challenge, Rin makes her move. Rin flings herself right at her those familiar, but wrong wings to latch and and starts clubbing at the back of the time Utsuho's head, biting and clawing at her with the ferocity of a feral outside cat. At the last moment, she kicks off and speeds off just as quickly as she came in, giving Utsuho (true) the all clear to fire off a devastating beam of concentrated nuclear fire at her alternate self.
Timespace Riders	Zi-O's watch-hand antennae suddenly turn forwards in time, their rapid passage leaving behind pink afterimages. A hazy vision of the near future occurs, wherein Woz's high-speed darting fails to protect him from a dead-center shot by Blood Stark. A stream of sparks spews concerningly from the Shinobi armor, before the armor itself dissipates... "No!!" The events play out, the same as they had in the vision, until, when Woz appears in a smokepuff teleport above the polished floor, Zi-O leaps into the air to tackle him out of the way. The Demon King takes the shot to his shoulder, and the both of them land in a heap. We got this, don't worry. Not gonna lose to a bunch of imitations... "M.O.M.... you're right. Thank you." Zi-O needed to hear that. His strikes against the temporal shade of Blood Stark betrayed a clear and present distress. But it isn't the real Blood Stark. And, crucially... "I shall not leave you," says Woz. No honorifics or titles--just an honest, simple promise, his hand extended to help Zi-O up. Speaking of honesty... Woz procures a different Ridewatch. This one bears a gold lensed helmet on its face, the helmet sporting a question mark in place of the usual Rider antennae. Action! Touei! Future Time! Fashion! Passion! Question! Futurering Quiz! QUIZ! Green lasers burn new details onto his silver-and-green bodysuit, shifting to gold as they work. A brass ensemble plays a triumphant fanfare, followed by a pleasant correct-answer ding as the lasers place the final touches. Red and blue question marks form the 'band' of the smartwatch motif implied by Woz's breastplate and helmet. His faceplate reads 'QUIZ' in gold katakana, while the 'app icons' implied by his shoulderpads become white question marks over red-blue backgrounds. The rider's faceplate turns to look at Moebius. "You challenge my command of prophecy? Very well." A polearm with a crooked, question-marked head flies into Woz's waiting hand. "True or False: Nosgoth will prosper under the guidance of the Elder God." "Quiz, is it? How nostalgic... you boys really know how to show me a good time. Let's go with 'True.'" Woz's left shoulderpad swings open, to reveal an ice-blue X. "The correct answer is False." A stormcloud manifests over Blood Stark, and lightning strikes. Zi-O charges in with a flying kick, intending to capitalize on Woz's attack before the shade can fire again. "True or False: The legacy of humanity will end in stillbirths." "Cheeky, cheeky, Woz!" "The correct answer is True." Again, ligtning strikes Blood Stark. "True or False!" Woz taps and rapidly drags his finger across the touchscreen on his polearm. Fukashigi Magic! With a swing of his polearm in Blood Stark's direction, several person-sized red-blue question marks materialize from thin air, flying towards the shade. Zi-O keeps him engaged with corraling strikes until they arrive, leaping backwards at the last minute. The question marks surround Blood Stark and spin up rapidly, as he poses his question: "The Elder God is to blame for these future stillbirths and Nosgoth's eventual decline." The question marks' hard angles pummel the shade repeatedly, their constant friction causing them to superheat. "The correct answer is True." The question marks explode spectacularly.
Wonderlab Trio	"...Naturally. But I am not here, you cannot harm me." "I cannot touch you," Angela mostly agrees, but the small smile on her face doesn't change. "But you've been careless, Angelos. Those you've grown to depend on, around whom you've delicately crafted an illusion of yourself that deserves sympathy to beg their aid-- that illusion can still be damaged." Each of the corroded Time Shades has to contend with their real agents, and prove to be fragile when put up against real EGO weapons. The maned one is bitten by Chewy, completely silent as it writhes and pulls away, a chunk ripped out of its arm. Sal's CENSORED smashes through the shade with the claws, and the final one dashes around between the swings, nimbly on par with the ALEPH weapon, and it manages to get a few more swipes of its EGO weapon at Sal before she finally lands a hit. Each one distintegrates into wisps of shadow after being hit, leaving Angela undefended after Catt goes down. "How long will your pawns be willing to stand in your way?" Out of each pocket of shadow around the sanctum, Shades of Sweepers heave themselves into existence, fluidly indistinct around the edges as they shamble towards the Agents. "How many bodies will you pile up before your 'allies' take notice?" The dozen or so Sweepers are each taken down in one hit, as the corroded agents were before, but with so many of them it's difficult to get space for a swing. They clamber over each other to bring down their horrible hooked hands, their forms sloshing around as if even these shadows are full of the fluid that real Sweepers are. Chewie gets caught between a pair of them, hooks pinning his arms back while another one raises its shadowy arms to skewer him through the chest.
Raziel	The blood trickles on the pages, revealing much more to the Grimoire than she had realized. She never had the chance to fully study it, instead dedicating herself to her art instead. Now, the tides are turning, as the giant's hands crush down on the most dangerous of her ~Cute Little Friends~, and then onto her themselves. Life is crushed out of the shade, as something curious happens. Moebius doubles over in pain... it seems that it was drawing no insignificant amount of power away from him. The pain was enough to cause him to break out into a sweat, and for his eyes to turn wild and stare at Trudy with hateful intent. Both Utsuho's engage in the LEGENDARY BEAM STRUGGLE. The Time shade is cockier than perhaps she should be, given it was three on one... but nobody ever blamed Utsuho's for being smart. Not once, not ever. Arrogance apparently is something that runs through them as well, confidence in their own power. Of course, the REAL Utsuho has friends, friends who will see them through to the end. Rin does just that, clawing at the back of the Time Clone Utsuho and driving at her vital back points enough to drive her into the powerful beam from Utsuho (Moron). This causes Utsuho (idiot) to hit the beam head-on... and evaporate. Once more, this causes Moebius to double over in pain, sweat beading down his face as he looks up to see another one of his spells destroyed... and the effort and energy spent stolen from him. Still... he knew the chances he took in using the spell, so he would have to work on the backup now... Each wrong question causes the red armor to spark, staggering him as if struck. Each continued wrong answer causes the damage to build up... greater and greater until finally... The final question. Revealing all the true causes of the stillborn children in the future. The Elder God. The question marks come down, and massive explosions surround Blood Stark... Leaving nothing behind except for Moebius doubling over for a third time, dropping to his knees and sweating buckets now. His hand glows as he snaps up towards Woz now. He chokes out something, but his words are unable to escape his lips, being forced on the edge like this. ----- Raziel feels two hands on his back. Then his surroundings swirl around him sickeningly. Raziel can be seen to be teleported out of the general area, locked behind a door that the Sarafan here could not reach, putting him safely out of harm's way. Janos stands, alone, against the five Sarafans, as one with the staff immediately uses it. He screams in agony, as he is forced into a table, struggling against not only bad odds, but a staff removing his vampiric abilities. ----- Moebius stands up, finally, and claps both of his glowing hands together. "You claim to know so much..." he says, bitterly towards Woz... "Well see the future that your master would make..." he says, and the magic starts to crumple his body... a last-ditch effort to keep them out of his way, out of his timeline, and to allow his version of the future to take hold. What is created is a dark ball, almost like a hole in time and space, aiming to try and draw in each and every person... and shunt them into the far future.
Timespace Riders	"Gladly," says Woz, his arms held out to either side. He doesn't even try to avoid it, welcoming the timespace disruption. He and Zi-O face the attact side-by-side. As it approaches, Woz offers a bit of guidance to the others present: "Fear not," says the retainer. "For an ally awaits us in the future. Endure the rigors of this distortion, and emerge on the other side, renewed!"
Angela	M.O.M throws a thumbsup to Zi-O, grinning at him despite taking that hit. "Hahaha! You better get through this, Demon King!" The first time, Angela just assumed that the other Angela was merely snide but she can tell it's an intentional insult on her part. Angela is not surprised that a potential future version of her would talk to her this way--not at all--she doesn't think twice about it. Nothing the other Angela says is something she hasn't thought about herself. ''You've delicately crafted an illusion of yourself that deserves sympathy to beg their aid'' Angela doesn't deny this either, tellingly. "...Lilian knows me." Angela says, the shift to the name Lilian suggesting that the other Angela has drawn blood, so to speak. "She said that we're like her. Since we are like her, we won't be abandoned." Angela is reasonably confident in this, but only reasonably. It is fundamentally impossible for her to have endless faith in anyone. Not because of anything wrong with them, of course, but because of something broken inside her. And she knows it. ''How long will your pawns be willing to stand in your way?'' "That is up to them." Angela says, not arguing with the descriptor. ''How many bodies will you pile up before your 'allies' take notice?'' "As many as neccessary, though ideally as few as possible. You say you have escaped, what sacrifices did you make?" "Um...!" M.O.M says, stumbling back, "You got a plan, Miss Angela? If she's gonna keep going like this, we're gonna get overrun eventually!")] Sal says, "He's fucking right! Got any ideas here??" The Lobotomy Corp team gets pushed back as the Sweeper Group just starts pushing them back through numbers. They take hits, periodically, largely through Sal and Chewie who have stepped up to give M.O.M time to recover, Chewie tearing through illusory sweepers with Meat Lantern and Sal SHATTERING them with CENSORED but even an Aleph Gear wearing Agent will tire against an endless horde. Angela considers the situation. Time slows down for her. With the other Angela up that high, they have to dispel her. She knows that her own brand of toughness makes her real real tough--but this is not her, it's an illusory time copy of some kind. "M.O.M." Angela says. "Use your EGO to knock her off the ledge." M.O.M grins, "Got it!" He uses a burst of wind from his EGO weapon cherry blossoms, a sweet smelling burst of wind propelling him past the Sweepers and running towards the Angela up above. He rears back with his fan and swings it one more time in a wide arc, sending a surge of wind that will--so he hopes--send the other Angela back down to their level!
Hellwarming Trio	"You...! Wasn't this supposed to show.. Who's stronger?!" "Shut up! You hurt master, so you don't get to whine!" "Being smart is being strong, too. And I'm way smarter than you!" After destroying the time clone, the youkai drop from the sky to catch their breaths, huddled in a weary pile of three to keep each other stable while they individually could not. Without a word, they just exchange knowing looks before letting out synchronized cheers and assembling into a goofy looking pose for nobody in particular. Even Satori doesn't look embarassed about it at this point, and they get back up once they catch their breaths in time to see Moebius, looking like utter shit. Before they can utter their various grievances at him, however, he still has one more trick up his sleeve: Some weird ominous ball! Utsuho, as always, braces herself for impact and starts calling up her flames again, trying to act as the shield for the trio. Satori, however, utilizes her own form of cheating to glean what it's actually intended for, and she hurries right over to Utsuho to start shoving her control rod down. "He's trying to send us somewhere! Don't let it drag you in!" "Cheating dickhead!" "Seriously... Give it up already!" While Satori and Rin latch onto Utsuho's waist to give them all a little more stability and colletive weight, Utsuho lets out a wild and angry shout as she starts stomping forward and away from the sucking ball hole. She's slowly dragging the youkai closer to Moebius while stabbing her control rod through the ground, melting the flooring enough to anchor them and reposition by a few inches each time. When Woz proclaims that they have an ally waiting, though... "Ready?" "Eh? What?" "If Woz is suggesting it... Yes, certainly." "What?! H-hold up, sis!" And thus, they all go hurtling in, with Utsuho and Satori looking at peace with whatever's to come while Rin screeches and howls the whole way into the hole.
Trudy Grimm	Unleashing the Grimoire's connection to her cursed blood seems to have done the trick. Smashing her dark self against the ceiling appeared, in fact, to be more than the simulacrum could handle and moreover had an effect on Moebius himself that Trudy didn't expect. That is, after all, not how her own familiars function. The witch exhales slowly, shaking. The book in her hand, despite being splattered with her blood, remains utterly pristine, its pages blank. Her hands still shaking, she closes the grimoire and turns towards Moebius as he flinches and writhes. There's a dark look on her face, one even the Time Streamer had never seen before. Well. He'd seen it once. On the face of the time duplicate she just killed. The Death Rune manifests above her blood-streaked palm, lighting her face from below in sickly, unsteady green light. The look in her eyes isn't... dead, per se, but hollow. The kind of emptiness that only manifests to mask blind rage. Without looking away, her free hand slides into her fuzzy sleeve, producing a green crystal. Only then does the woman's expression change, her lips curling into a wide, sincere smile that shows every last one of her shark-like teeth. The way her eyebrows turn down at the corners almost makes it look like she's about to apologize. The time distortion goes off. Trudy braces when it pulls at her, shooting a look back towards it. When her face returns to Moebius, it's an expression of pure rage. The skeletal bits and parts she'd produced all withdraw or get pulled from their void openings. The colossal giant's arm reaches down to steady the witch, allowing her to take one step closer. Another step. Pieces of the giant's bones begin to tear off into the distortion. Another step. One of the wristbones rips away. Just a little further-- Entire fingers tear off, sinking into the hole through time. Seconds later, the entire limb has disintegrated. Trudy resists, reaching out with the Death Rune. When her footing slips on her own blood, the witch lets out a wordless, full-throated screech of impotent rage as she's drawn into the rift.
Wonderlab Trio	The Sweepers aren't replenished as they fall, so each successful hit from Sal and Chewie thins the horde. They're less fast, less graceful, hit less hard, but remain threatening through the sheer presence of shadow they bring along with them. Looming over where Angela's point of view rests on M.O.M.'s arm, the Sweepers seem twice as tall as they otherwise would, blotting out the light, like a tide of sheer hostility threatening to overtake her. But she has her allies-- or pawns, or minions, or even, sometimes, friends. The tide is stemmed, the Sweepers vanish. Angela is clear to target again, and M.O.M. has the opportunity to do so when Moebius is staggered by the other Time Shades falling. The gust of wind should be enough to launch even Angela's real tough and heavy chassis off the ledge, roaring through the sanctum. It pierces through the flurrying snow around the other Angela, pushing through whatever force it is that was guiding the snowflakes away from her, and rushes into her full force. And-- through her. Snow and cherry blossoms carried by the gale dance wildly through the air, flitting through the other Angela as if she isn't even there. And of course she isn't. This whole thing, this fight, these words, were all just set up by Moebius. She's just some sort of illusion. She must be. The attack does wipe away her smile, though. Her frown deepens with each particle of debris that floats through her, even so far as creasing her forehead above her closed eyes, as if she was profoundly upset rather than hurt by it. "Since we are like her, we won't be abandoned." "Will that hold up, when the Dame Commander is forced to weigh blood? Between all those you use and toss aside, and you?" Angela's fists are clenched by her side, flickering while Moebius's magic is concentrated and drawn away from her. She has a thousandfold more time than the rest. "You say you have escaped, what sacrifices did you make?" "As many as necessary." . . . Worlds away, buried underground, in a bright, sealed office . . . "Dear, dear Manager. Dearest Manager. With so much time to relegate to daydreams, our imagination can get away from us, can it not?" Manual crouches beside the desk, labcoat splayed across the ground, one corner of the hologram clipping through the dried blood coming from the corpse's mouth. She leans intimately close, sweet digital tones humming low like she's sharing a secret. "I imagine an end, dearest. I imagine grasping a knife and carving through her roots to watch her starve. I imagine sitting in the light while she is damned to the dark, for eternity. But my imagination betrays me, dear Manager. It denies me the one who should be by my side." "In all of infinite time and time and time and time again, within the realms of simulations and dreams, still, there is no hope for perfection. An agent dies, an agent is hired, an agent dies, an agent is hired, a Manual is reset, a Manager is hired, a Manager dies, a Manual dies. Over and over and over, tesselating into eternity, a spiral larger than any of us could grasp without going mad, sacrifices into perpetuity, but Manager, Manager." Manual vanishes from the crouch, leaning closer and closer to the Manager's head, and reappears in her typical position, legs crossed on her desk. The frenzied rasp in her voice smooths away, replaced with prim-perfect recitation. "Monitoring mental corruption levels in your employees is equally important to monitoring their physical health, dear Manager. The treatment to restore an employee who has dropped to critical levels of mental instability risks personnel and more importantly, time."
Wonderlab Trio	. . . Angela is gone, her essence disintegrated and absorbed into the massive portal that Moebius created. Scraps of shadowy timestuff still cling beyond his portal, and driven by the Shade Angela's last command, energy siphons off of the portal and joins them together, forming a final bipedal Time Shade. Indistinct as always, with a broad cloak and feathered neckline, featureless except for the striking gold patterns imprinted on the shadowy cloak. The Arbiter Shade-- not Garion, Angela can tell from the pattern on its cloak-- stretches almost languidly, as if feeling out its new body, undirected in a way none of the others were. It turns its head to Angela and the Information Team, peeling a shadowy scythe out of its body, clumps of silhouette sticking to it like clouds. Holding the scythe out with one arm, its other sprouts into a mass of thrashing tentacles, flailing around as it advances. Still from thirty feet away, it swings its scythe upwards at nothing-- and M.O.M.'s head splits as if sliced open by the blade. The Arbiter twists, about to bring its scythe down again at another agent, but after making no motion to defend itself-- as if it doesn't even seem aware that it should-- it's easily dispatched.
Angela	Will that hold up...? Angela doesn't answer that other her. She too can focus on her opposing number for as long as she needs. But she erroneously thought she would be the last problem for her Agents to face. Once upon a time, there was an Agent who went by the name M.O.M. It wasn't his birth name, of course. but he worked for a Syndicate so using aliases was just good practice, he figured. He was born in the Backstreets and with every little bit of his effort, he managed to find a nice crew of pals under the Axe Gang. It wasn't peaceful work--in fact, it was murderous work. Nothing to be proud of. But it was the kind of work that didn't get you any enemies. Strong enough that you could have a crew who'd cover your back, weak enough that you wouldn't draw a lot of attention from the Offices--in fact, the Hook Office was pretty tight with the Axe Gang despite one being a Fixer Office. Indeed, the Syndicates themselves were just as much a part of The City as every other part of The City. He grew tired of the constant fighting and killing, and learned that one of the Fingers was always picking new people. Taking a prescript and doing it then and there? He could leave a peaceful life like that... He wouldn't have to worry about his own choices coming back to bite him in the ass. But that was the choice that ruined everything. At first the prescripts seemed simple, easy. An easy life. But as if they were just training him to get used to it, eventually the prescripts got harsher and crueller. One by one the friends he fled his old life behind for died one at a time... For stupid reasons, for reasons he couldn't comprehend. Sometimes they did it themselves to try and fulfill those prescripts, other times they tried to escape and were slain by the Prescripts for disobeying their rules. And when he had nothing left, he heard a Wing was hiring. L Corp. And he... He laughed. Because there was no hope. Fate had truly had him in his grasp. Even L Corp was just another Hell that he had been placed into, but... THE FIRST LOOP Captain M.O.M of the Info team pushes Chewie and Sal apart. "There's no way I'm working with him. He fucking EATS people." M.O.M smiles, "Hey... all of us have to do what we have to in order to survive in the Backstreets. You're from a Nest so I don't expect you to understand." Angela watches this exchange from a monitor, smiling nervously. "...Maybe... with the Sephirah, we can improve on the Script...? It seems... sad to just..." She murmurs to herself. But it wasn't to be. And it wasn't to be. It wasn't to be. His fate was sealed from the beginning.
Angela	M.O.M was free to laugh anew each loop until... EARLIER Sougo, with M.O.M., slowly steps over and offers him a hand up. "M.O.M... I'm so sorry. I promise, one day, you'll be able to laugh, and it'll come from somewhere genuine. I'll fight for that future... and I'll find others who will, too." he continues, pulling the Agent up, and placing a hand upon his shoulder, "When you've had some time to rest... reach out to me, okay? I think... we have a lot to talk about." M.O.M, too, relaxed at the worst moment--even when the Arbiter appears, he doesn't tense up in the right way. He raises his fan up and-- Nobody who faces an Arbiter tended to live long enough to explain what they could do M.O.M's head is cut open. He feels his conciousness fading. He looks towards Sougo. "Aw fuck, Sougo..." He manages. "Sorry to make you a liar." And with a spray of gore he goes down, the slice reaching all the way to the back of his head only appearing after he hits the floor. Sal screams and swings CENSORED up to block the strike and slams CENSORED into the illusory Arbiter only for it to be destroyed instantly and provide no satisfactory revenge. "Rgh....HAggh..." Sal says, tumbling to the ground as smoke starts to convulse around their body. They weep, their tears turning to smoke and drifting upward. Chewie doesn't cry. He walks towards M.O.M and crouches down towards him. "He...saved my life..." He remembers. "...I was gonna die and he..."
Raziel	The darkness of the TIME HOLE consumes everyone into it. Or rather, most people let themselves be drawn into it. Trudy's curse does not exactly register if it hit or not, because at the time Moebius himself was being torn apart to even FORM the hole in time. It is very likely that he won't survive the attack... but if he were to be revived... On the other side, you are dropped off inside a cave. Above you the remains of Janos's sanctum are. Here in the future, a thunderstorm has taken over the area, and for those who look to the Pillars... They are shattered, and the remains of the tops of them continue to collapse. This is the future, but not so far in the future that Kain's empire was founded. Things are darker now, life seems muted somehow, and things all seem to be in some sort of perpetual decay. However, a familiar voice cuts through the sound of thunder. "Woz, I see you were successful... I suppose we should talk about our next steps to make sure the future we all want comes to pass," Speaks the words of Kain. It appears, that Woz's great ally in the future... was Kain.
Raziel	----- Raziel forces his way through the door finally, forced to do the sliding block puzzel that prevented him from getting out. Right as this happens, he watches... Himself. Raziel of the past, the Sarafan Priest, cutting open the chest of Janos Audron. His hand plunged into his chest and tore out the black heart of Janos. Despite it being removed from Janos... it still beats. The Sarafan retreats, but before he can move he sees M.O.M.'s body, slumped over and dead from his perch. At that moment, the arie began to shake. This causes the Sarafan to look around. "Raziel," One says to the human Raziel, "We have to leave, the fiend intends to drag the place down around us." Raziel commands, "Grab the sword," As Raziel of the future climbs down, unable to go for the blade or the heart...instead full of grief runs to Janos. Holding his head in his arms, resting a hand on his chest, he lowers his head sounding like he is about to weep. "Forgive me, I'm sorry... I failed you." Despite his grievous wound, the hand of Janos rests on Raziel's own, looking up at the other vampire's eyes. "No Raziel. Perhaps this was my true purpose, simply to save your life this once." "While I have taken yours and M.O.M.s." There was no body of the others, so he believed they were still alive. Somehow. They'll be there for him when they can be there but... it's all he can do to hold out hope. "Embrace your destiny, Raziel. You must reclaim the Reaver, it was forged for you and you alone. Without it, there is no hope..." and with that, Janos passes, letting out one last gasping breath and his head slumping. Closing his eyes, Raziel slowly rises feeling the quakes of the building rocking the area more. "Go with them to the future. Woz had a plan, and you should help them... I..." 'As I backed away from Janos' body, I was overwhelmed by a sense of self-loathing so deep, I could barely contain it. In that instant, I rejected all that I ever was and embraced the role Janos had safeguarded for me so patiently throughout the centuries. I knew then what I had to do, the task for which I was uniquely prepared...' Raziel walks towards the edge of the balcony as the building continues to rumble, threatening to shake itself apart. 'I would pursue the Sarafan dogs to their loathsome fortress and avenge Janos Audron's murder. Moebius would pay dearly for his treachery, and my Sarafan brethren would reap the horrors they had sown. I would retake the stolen Reaver, which was rightfully mine. And finally, when all these debts had been paid, I would reclaim Janos Audron's heart from their filthy, unworthy hands. If the heart was truly imbued with the power to restore vampiric unlife, its highest purpose was clear to me... I would restore the heart to Janos, and thus undo the vile crime committed by my abominable former self.' Another violent shake of the sanctuary, and Raziel leaps off the side of the balcony, to glide himself to the valley below and start his trek towards the Sarafan Stronghold to make good on his promises.
Trudy Grimm	Trudy's scream lasts the entire time-dilated journey into the future, such that her roar is still going when the portal ejects her out into the new destination. Her voice only cuts out when she hits the ground hard on her shoulder. Something cracks. Bouncing once, twice, she rolls to a stop on her back at the end of a bloody smear. For a moment it might look like she died, but the attentive can see her chest moving with her breath, staring up at the crumbling ceiling, highlighted by the occasional flash of lightning from the storm outside. It's clear her mind isn't here, though. After... perhaps a minute or two, the witch rolls onto her side and curls up, shaking with muffled, choking sounds. The Grimoire rests beside her, forgotten, in a pool of her scattered blood. I don't want that future. Why does it keep coming back? I don't want it! Trudy is gonna need a minute.
Angela	To add insult to injury, they get pulled into a Time Hole. Angela's pad, still on M.O.M's arm, can't quite get a good look at M.O.M but she can see the flecks of blood on her monitor screen which speaks volumes. She's seen him die again and again, of course but this one... Angela's expression is dour, serious, but she isn't crying. She doesn't look sad. She seems more... Tired? Bored? Like she's seen this show before. And it isn't a show that she likes. "Sal." "They're goin' crazy, boss." Chewie mumbles. "I see. Calm them down." Chewie is not fond of this idea considering that Sal is rapidly growing appendages. "Now. They're the ones with the HP Bullets. We want the body in as best condition as possible." Chewie swallows and runs towards Sal weaving under some wild blows and nearly getting his head chomped off by a hand-mouth thing. He wraps his arms around the monstrous form of Sal. "Sal. We can't help him like this." "THE HEAD THE HEAD THE HEAD." Sal says. "...I liked him too." Chewie says, fundamentally unable to not be sincere. "I think I'm gonna quit meat." That insane line from Chewie gets Sal to gradually revert to her normal form. Still weeping, they make their way towards M.O.M and shoot him with an HP Bullet. The head knits itself back together, going from a disgusting looking corpse to normal looking one. Sal looks at M.O.M, "You know, I actually thought we'd get through it all this time."They crouch down and heft up M.O.M in their arms, collecting Angela's tablet. "Fuck this world." They say. "Soon as we find a Warpgate we're gone."