Scene #8100: Agents of BUILD: The Mothership

Owner	Pose
Operator	After a quick pit stop out in the Nevada Desert to pick up more allies (some soldiers, braver cops, and local militia folk along with any Elites who missed the initial attack), the hijacked UFO containing Duke Nukem and other Elites begins its ascent beyond the Earth's atmosphere. The interior is, quite frankly, a mess. Whomever took over this vessel, they made a thorough job of dealing with its staff. They lay on the floor, covered in bullet wounds, scorch marks, and acid burns. But curiously, some show signs of what look like arrow wounds, with no sign of any arrows to be founds. These ones show up on the senses of those who are spiritually inclined as Significant. Following the trail of death from the loading bay leads everyone to the bridge, where a man sits in a large rotating seat, surrounded by holographic displays as he does his best to pilot the alien machine. "How's it hanging Tommy?" Duke asks as he strides in, causing the man to grumble. "Awful cramped in this tiny chair is how," he replies, before something pings on one of the displays. "Oh thank god. Mothership in range, now where's that autopilot... here we go." Tapping one last display, he climbs from his seat and lets everyone get a good look at him. He's lean and fierce looking, seemingly Native American with long black hair slicked back, and wearing a black leather jacket over a white shirt and faded jeans. "Name's Domasi Tawodi, but you can call me Tommy. Hijacking UFOs is kind of my thing," he says as an introduction, offering a firm handshake to everyone. The saucer moves through space, and the mothership comes into view on the monitors. It's a massive hulking thing, more like a spindly spider web of steel and plastic than a flying saucer. Parts of it bulge and twitch organically, dispensing more and more craft to descend on the superplanet below. Guided by the autopilot, the saucer flies into one of the tendrils and begins to land, dormant teleporters suddenly coming to life on the bridge to allow disembarking. "Right, same plan as before. We go in there, shoot every alien bastard we see, and blow up whatever needs blowing up," Duke says as he pulls the slide on his golden Deagle. "We'll need to take out the central command and seize whatever hellportal technology they're using. That'll give us a one-way ticket to that half on the invasion," Tommy clarifies. Through the portal and out into the dock. Rows upon rows of saucers surround the group, and so too do the staff of those saucers, along with the dock workers. They're a broad mix of species, with some even being augmented humans. Corpses kept alive and working with mechanical implants jutting from their flesh. Large reptilians with miniguns for one of their hands. Flying drones with multiple optics and cannons on the sides. All of these descend on the invaders with bullets and tools and searing plasma!
Hellwarming Trio	"Can we really use these, Orin?" "Yeah, why not? They're corpses." "Yeah, but they're not human. Their souls might only work as good as an animal's." "It'll work, Okuu. Trust me!" Even in space, there's a pair of youkai aboard the hijacked UFO doing their part to clean up the ship. It's not sanitary to leave so many dead or dying aliens all over the floor, after all, especially if there's anyone here with a compromised immune system! That's what Rin, the red-headed cat youkai, told Utsuho, the black-haired raven youkai, in order to get an extra set of hands working on cramming so many of those dead aliens into a wheelbarrow. They're actually doing a pretty good job at it, too, and it'd be easy to forget there even were aliens in the spots they've cleared up if not for all the debris and markings from the battle preceding everything. Once they're satisfied with their haul, they leave the wheelbarrow outside of the bridge to head inside and check on what Duke and Tommy are up to. "Domasi, eh? You can call me Okuu." "And I'm Orin. You can call us-" "Junior assl-""-kickers!" They strike a dumb, yet symmetrical pose, then shake his hand firmly while gawking outside of the saucer. They marvel at the sight of the earth below them, the mothership further ahead, and then tense up at the gross-looking tendrils aiding the path of the saucer. Duke's plan gets them fired up, at least, and they pump their fists and beat their chests to psyche themselves up for the coming battle. By the time they come out through the portals, they're ready to go guns blazing. They're even shouting incoherently as they fire back at the aliens with little regard for collateral damage in the area, with Utsuho lobbing huge fireballs overhead while Rin snipes at the more slippery-looking targets from under the cover of everyone and everything else. Their stalker, meanwhile, is still engaging in the battle from a distance as well. Although they're still avoiding the pair, they're still firing bullets of their own at the aliens! Or cartridges, rather, as bullets and everything else included are simply conjured up and flung right in.
Remee Halcyon	w/r/t picking up some new elites, there is in fact one new young woman waiting at the ~~bus stop~~ ufo stop. "Hi, alien hunt, right? Just making sure. I almost got on a battle food truck that was headed to Nashville," she says, before coming on board, shouldering her tote bag and rifle. On her way in, she stops at one of the downed aliens, leaning down to get a good sniff at it, for whatever reason. She otherwise doesn't seem at all bothered (or even surprised) by the carnage. "Hi, name's Remee," she says, shaking Domasi's hand, and also Duke's if it's offered. "I'm..." There's a brief pause where her internal visual novel prompt skips over 'a watch terrorist', 'a three-quarters werewolf noble house runaway', and the joke option of 'just here for the free buffet' before settling on finishing that sentence with: "... a hunter." After introductions are made, she goes back to find one of the more intact(-ish) alien corpses, and prods at it a bit. After a while, she pulls a hunting knife from somewhere and starts doing more than prodding, though thankfully she drags the corpse to a side chamber first. She returns just in time to hear the briefing. "Right - kill everything, sieze the bridge, grab the teleporter. Simple enough." Her rifle is unslung and loaded, and she heads on through the portal. And - once through, she stays low to the ground and quiet, letting everyone else stir up the hive - she finds a decently covered spot with decent lines of sight in each corridor the group heads down, and aims and picks her shots carefully. She's focusing on the implants - testing the knowledge she's gained in her impromptu dissection session, seeing if there's one 'weak point' implant in particular that'll take each species down with one shot.
Hiromi	Hiromi, who gives the impression of someone who would need to (at least physically) lower herself to shake hands (and isn't very familiar with the custom, besides), leaves Tommy hanging. This isn't to say she fails to show interest. It's just mostly of the unnervingly predatory variety, that someone might be glad soon shifts to the alien mothership. "Tommy." She says the name as something entirely foreign. 'We'll need to take out the central command...' "Yes," she says, and, "I'll go." Her chosen tactics are more incidentally useful to other people than clearly cooperative, once they step through the teleporters, as Hiromi sets off running in the direction that seems 'most important.' She has an instinctive understanding of lines of command, which applies as well for the planning of cities and city-sized craft as it does in the abstractly social sense. So much the better if the efforts of the defenders should reveal whatever they consider the most critical to defend. It's only her great speed, leaping right and left with instantaneous shifts of momentum, that prevents massed fire from reaching her, and instant regeneration that deals with lines of fire she occasionally runs straight into. 'Incidentally useful to others' in that she is as obviously threatening and attention-grabbing as anyone could be, fully willing to meet the greatest concentration of opponents rather than avoid them, leaving plenty of opportunities for others to do whatever they'd like with relatively less immediate danger. What she reaches is quickly crushed or thrown aside, metal limbs torn from bodies and run through other bodies, mechanical zombies picked up and smashed into their fellows hard enough to burst both like balloons, and even the drones given no chance to avoid her leaps, claws breaking through armor and parts before the remains are kicked into more distant targets, or used as a springboard for her advance. Even if she's taking damage, as larger weapons can definitely cause, she simply pretends she isn't.
Ozhira	"We are Ozhira," a relatively small girl in a black uniform-like outfit comments. Her face looks tired, with black marks under the eyes, but she does... attempt to offer Domasi a smile. Ozhira is, evidently, Bad At Smiles and instead just flashes him an awkward maw filled with shark-like teeth in the dollar store version of a smile. Their attention swings to Duke, who had complimented them before, nodding twice, "We understand. We will hunt." The Beast's eyes swivel towards Remee who makes a similar claim, head tilting slightly too unnaturally far in curiosity, "Ah?" They don't inquire further, but instead disembark, seeming quite out of place amidst heavily armed commandos, towering wolf gods, youkai, and an enemy force fully fit to fight XCOM. This is seemingly vindicated when, approximately six paces from their teleport destination, Ozhira is punched through multiple times with plasma bolts and collapses in a messy red heap. Aliens and Demons move on to other targets. With the chaos of the fight and especially an attention-seeker like Hiromi on the board, it's unlikely anyone will notice Ozhira's carcass sliding across the floor, leaving a nasty red smear that leads right to-- a floor grate into the maintenance tunnels. They don't even bother removing the grate. Ozhira's body simply shlorps through the grille, leaving an ugly red mess and entering the Beast's preferred terrain. Tight, claustrophobic corridors with lots of blind turns and access covers.
Timespace Riders	One of the allies picked up in the Nevada desert is none other than Woz, the somewhat unusual time traveler. "My Demon King, you must inform me before you go off on your own like this," he says, stepping over a dispatched crew member after a cursory glance at the mysterious arrow wounds. "Mm.. you're probably right," says Sougo with a wan smile. "But you said 'no more dalliances,' didn't you? It sounded like you wanted to get to work finding another Rider, so I didn't want to pull you away..." Woz smiles coyly. "I did, and indeed I have," he says with a slight bow of his head. "We may discuss it later." For now, they're likely wanted on the bridge. "Hi, Domasi!" The future Demon King smiles brightly at him, offering a friendly wave. "I'm Sougo, and this is my retainer Woz." Woz offers a courteous bow of his head. "And this must be the vulgar, yet heroic Duke Nukem. A pleasure." With little further ado, the two strap on their belts. Woz dons the purple-accented, scarf-equipped Shinobi armor. He makes great use of Hiromi's threatening presence, flitting across the battlefield in smoke-puff teleports, hurling oversized shuriken at those forces bowled over by, or otherwise attempting to focus down the Archwolf. Zi-O can't resist using his new form, however. "Hey, Duke! What do you think of my belt, now? Haha!" ARMOR TIME! Hail to the King! NUKEM! With that pocketwatch slotted into his driver, a new set of armor appears, the disembodied gear thumbing the tactical straps over its red cuirass, before breaking apart to snap into place on Zi-O. Black plated greaves, a red breastplate resembling a tank top, with energy cells held in vertical tactical straps on either side. A gauntlet styled in imitation of a fingerless glove runs over the golden hands on the watch-helmet, just as black katakana spelling "RIDER," stylized to resemble sunglasses, snap into place over the white 'face' of the helmet. "I'm here to chew ass and kick gum," exclaims Zi-O, right next to Duke. "And I'm all out of gum!" Procuring a massive, gold-plated energy pistol, Zi-O puts the explosive hitscan lasers to great use, advancing past Remee and matching in unrefined brute force what she has in expert precision. He doesn't pick his shots carefully--or in any way resembling her masterful practice. The ridiculous speed and size of his projectiles, however, lend themselves very well to hipfiring. Zi-O's march forward is that of a blunt instrument, in this armor.
Operator	The Asskicking Duo causes a raised eyebrow from Tommy, and a look to Duke who just merely shrugs his broad shoulders. The affairs of yokai remain beyond the understanding of mere men. Though both men do shake Remee's hand, but Duke looks a little green when she drags an alien to another room to carve. Tommy couldn't care less though. When Hiromi leaves him hanging, he meets her predatory gaze with his own stare. There's something about him, something More than someone like Duke. He's not exactly prey himself. Though the many many teeth in Ozhira's mouth does make him flinch a little. "Vulgar?!" Duke exclaims as Woz's description, and takes a moment to sniff his armpit. "I resent that. Deodorant hasn't failed me yet." When the group charges into battle, Duke and Tommy asist. The former has produced some kind of missile-spamming rocket launcher, and is using it to saturate bomb the other saucers to render them inoperable. No escape given. Tommy meanwhile produces a very strange gun. Portions of it seem almost organic, with three rotating coils that fire off bolts of energy. A long tendril extends from the gun to attach to Tommy's eye, which seems to provide some kind of telescopic effect, as it allows him to pick off distant targets that try to sound the alarm. The collective power of the group overwhelms the wave tactics of the aliens. Hiromi barrels in to draw fire and rip aliens apart with her bare hands. Okuu and Rin (and their stalker) provide saturation fire, forcing the aliens with any intelligence to find cover and not show their face. Those that do are picked off by Remee's precise shots, and those that don't find their cover shot clean through by Sougo's new gun (Duke gives a smirk and a thumbs-up while saying, "I do love seeing my colors splashed all over."). Ozhira meanwhile infiltrates the narrow vents and maintenance tunnels of the sprawling ship. There's plenty of ambushes to be had, grabbing aliens who are responding to the attack and dealing with them, but the ship is frankly massive, like multiple cities crashed into each other. Even her prodigious meat can't spread through all of it, she's going to have to pick a direction. The main force burst into a room that feels massive, and is dark. A voice booms through the chamber, synthesized and multilayered. Multiple languages overlapping each other, spoken in voices of all sexes, challenge the group. L-L-LOOK AT YOU, CRAWLING AND PAAAAAANTING AND OOZING-ZING-ZING YOUR FRAGILE SHELLS THROUGH MY GLORIOUS MAGNIFICEEENCE. HOW CAN YOUR SMALL-PUNY-INSIGNIFICANT EFFORTS EVEN HOPE TO STOP ME? The lights of the room come on in a sudden flash. The only words that come to mind to describe it is 'conversion chamber.' It is here that the abducted humans and animals are taken and 'put to use.' Great machines of unclear purpose mash and crush and inject and submerge and change. They don't even get the chance to scream, because the lungs are the first to go. DO NOT MISTAKE THAT FOR AAAAAAROGANCE. I HAVE TURNED HUMAN FLESH OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER (AND OOOVERRR) IN MY MYRIAD HANDS. I HAVE PUSHED IT TO ITS ABSOLUTE LIMIT, AND FOUND IT... WANTING. MY SLAVES CAN ONLY DO SO MUCH WITH ALL THE GIFTS I CAN PUT INSIDE THEM. YOU CANNOT COMPARE. The holding pits for the finished products open, and a tide of augmented humans descend on the group with sizzling and searing and bursting weapons welded onto their bodies.
Ozhira	The Beast selects a direction shortly after securing the hanger's maintenance tunnels. Tendrils erupt out of vents and access panels to wrench aliens out of sight. Sometimes they even burst through the floor or wall; making its own openings through which to attack. But the direction is clear; Ozhira is following the path drawn by Hiromi. The Devourer swiftly catches up to her rampage, even, though moving through the walls and floors and ceilings rather than out in the open. Attacking with tendrils and chitonous spikes from seemingly random openings. As the voice starts talking and the team encounters the 'Conversion Chamber', Ozhira emerges-- rising up out of one of the floor grates and re-assuming their human-like disguise. Their gaze raises ceiling-wards while the discordant voice postures and insults; and only when it finishes and the Converted emerge does the girl speak. "New voice is. Discordant," Her eyes lower to the emerging specimens, "We dislike this discord." Ozhira's torso jettisons a single spike on a slimy crimson tether, missing any of those armed corpses. It instead buries into a wall somewhere behind them, the slack line suddenly going taut and pulling Ozhira's body forward. In midair, the girl's body contorts and splits open like a zipper, exposing a far-too-large mouth lined with far-too-many teeth. Just, leaping into the fray, this time fighting in the open, letting out sprays of crimson each time an energy bolt lands; their normally nondescript form twisted into an abomination of spines, teeth, and acid-spraying pores.
Remee Halcyon	"Oh -" Remee, acting on a sixth sense for what's likely to happen, goes to stash her hunting rifle and pull out a shotgun instead. "I think a bit more-" The holding pits open. "-stopping power might be-" She doesn't get to finish her sentence - or finish loading the shotgun. She does not quite at all have the FPS hero staples down pat - particularly the fast weapon switching in this case, and the unleashed experiments swarm on her. There's only a moment of indecision, of working out that a half-loaded shotgun isn't going to be the best option here, that she needs something faster and closer range. And then she changes. It's fast, less than a second. And then Remee, as a quadruped wolf, barrels through the experiments swarming on her, forcing her way over and through the weakest link, getting a bit of space. Wolf Remee is big - actually wolf sized, but at least on a frontal profile is shorter and presents less of a target. That hasn't entirely helped, she's taken more than few hits, with bullet holes and burn marks and whatever other wounds strange alien weaponry can leave behind, but for being shot up she doesn't seem particularly bothered. "They're very... demanding!" the wolf says, Remee's voice coming out of it, in agreement with Ozhira. And then the wolf leaps, going after the closest of her pursuers - teeth zeroing in on necks to tear out, or implants to clamp onto and yank apart, all with decidedly more strength than a wolf should have. "And if they're so dismissive of human flesh, why do they keep abducting humans, anyway," she says, between spitting out an implant and pouncing on the next closest target. "Ugh, tastes foul, too."
Hellwarming Trio	"You see that, Okuu?" "It's like there's two of them now! Duke and Duke-O!" "Uh. I'm pretty sure they don't look that similar, but it's still cool!" "Except for the ass chewing part." "Except for the ass chewing part." Fighting plasma and bullets with even more fire isn't quite as harmless as Utsuho and Rin might hope. Although they fare rather well against the plasma blasts, the actual bullets being fired still keep them from venturing too far out too quickly. Getting shot isn't pleasant after all, and there's only so much mid-fight cauterizing they can do to themselves before it might start raising questions once they get back home. Their stalker puts in quite a bit of effort firing back as well, although they dip behind cover every now and just as either one of the youkai glances back in their direction. With the combined efforts of everyone present pushing the aliens away, the path forward opens up. Rin looks only slightly disappointed at not getting a chance to kick in the doors, but it's unlikely she'd be able to actually do it convincingly, anyway. They look up simultaneously as those voices start ringing out at them, wincing at the lights coming on all at once. It takes a moment for them to see what's going on in that massive chamber, and they look utterly confused once they're able to comprehend what they're looking at once the augmented humans start coming forth. <J-IC-Scene> Hellwarming Duo \| Rin says, "Gross! What the heck is... Can we even use this?" <J-IC-Scene> Hellwarming Duo \| Utsuho says, "Does this count as killing humans?" <J-IC-Scene> Ozhira says, "If you do not wish to. We will. Go on. To the command room." <J-IC-Scene> Tommy says, "I've seen what they do... they're not human anymore. It's a mercy." <J-IC-Scene> Hellwarming Duo \| Utsuho says, "Just gotta make sure it's okay. Now we don't have to hold back!" Indeed, that's as good of a signal as any for the pair to continue with their strategy from before: Massive amounts of saturation fire. Rather than aiming at any particular former human in the massive room, Utsuho just aims for general clusters of opponents, aiming to immolate or scatter them away from anything that might even resemble cover. She's not doing much dodging, though, taking more shots from plasma and bullets that have her slowing down considerably, instead relying on Rin (and the stalker, without realizing it) to continue providing her with covering fire while weaving in and out of cover themselves.
Timespace Riders	In the darkness, only the retainer is clearly visible--and then, only because of the glow of his smartwatch-themed helmet's 'face.' When the lights come on, however, both he and his king startle at the sudden reveal, each rider taken aback by the sight of the experiments. Zi-O's gauntlet clenches into a fist, so tightly that the armor can be heard creaking. "Hope... doesn't have anything to do with this! You haven't given anyone gifts--you're a butcher, and I'm going to stop you!" With a furious shout, Zi-O charges through a hail of plasma fire, his armor sparking with each impact. Firing the laser magnum one-handed keeps his other arm free for vicious elbow strikes. Wading through the chaos, Zi-O's armored knees smash into center-of-mass, while snap kicks and shoulder tosses aided by superhuman strength toss stunned opponents towards Ozhira, or into Duke and Tommy's firing angles. Woz leaps nimbly into the air, inverting impossibly to touch his feet to the wall of the chamber. Running along the wall, with a polearm sickle in one hand, his other hand rains down explosive shuriken, attempting to collaborate with Rin and Utsuho's tactic. Forced off the wall after just one circuit by a well-placed gout of flame, Woz rights himself in midair to avoid a dangerous fall. Upon his landing, he hooks the offending assailant-experiment at the shoulder, corralling it with his own strength and sending it flying towards Wolf Remee with a jumping kick placed squarely at the back.
Hiromi	They make their way forward through, and by, destruction of what's before them, tearing and blasting away obstacles, rather than searching for keycards. There's no good reason to wait. Hiromi is unceasing, tireless in her advance, a monster that can be struck but not stopped, nor even meaningfully slowed. She is far from the only one aboard, and of a much different flavor from, say, Ozhira. The meaning behind these differences may be lost on the voice speaking to them. It's humans who are most familiar with dangers in the dark, with growls from bared teeth, and eyes that catch and reflect back the light of their fires. To know the Archwolf is more difficult for one without knowledge of wolves. That is, however, no reason to make allowances for a challenge placed against her. "'Fragile.' 'Puny.' 'Insignificant.' You, find something, anything, harder than I. Try. Struggle. Show me, what you think, will break me. Armies. 'Slaves.' Fool. Reveal your champion. Are these your hands? I won't wait. I'll take them. Your time, already short." She takes one leap, off like a shot, deck buckling beneath where she'd stood. Hiromi impacts the conversion equipment with a crash, grabbing spooky robo-arms of horrible purpose and tearing them off their actuators. Steel folds and pinches between her fingers as if it were wet clay, and harder alloys fare little better, but they become far harder, briefly raised to a state in which they are weapons worthy of her strength, in the moment she wields them to further her destructive reach. "You seek improvement. This is good. Your efforts, wanting. Messy. Ignorant. 'Wars' waged, but you, do you understand? 'Slaves,' yet no authority. Only yielding when dead. Weak. If you were strong, they'd follow you, even living." Hiromi kicks one assembly of torturous conversion devices off its housing, sending it to crash into a multitude of the converted, and swings a buzzsaw-tipped arm fully around herself to clear a space where she lands, opting for chest-high bisection. She stops, then, for just a moment, to look for where their next stop must be. It can't be here. She's looking for 'gates.' And this isn't where that voice originates, if it's still making claims of size.
Remee Halcyon	Notably, Remee, who does have knowledge of wolves, is trying to stay at least half of the room's length away from Hiromi if she can, even before the archwolf starts swinging the equipment around.
Operator	Ozhira charges in and begins spraying acid, causing the augmented humans to sizzle and burn, melting into piles of goo and leaving only their extensive augmentations. Utsuho opts to just incinerate them, and Hiromi turns the whole place into a weapon to turn against them. This helps thin the crowd dramatically, giving everyone else the breathing room needed to deal with the rest. Remee zeroes in on the implants, ripping them out with brutal force. She finds that doing this does... something to the humans. Some clarity returns to their eyes, they manage to smile as they die. One manages to croak a 'thank you' with their last breath. Zi-O opts for teamwork, aiming to make softer, easier targets. Duke exploits the flung cyborgs with clean headshots from his Deagle and those that get close get shotgunned. The macho man is oddly grim about all this. Tommy meanwhile has produced some massive cannot that sprays arcs of electricity, sending them into convulsions. Those that still live afterwards get shot cleanly with the laser gun. A BUTCHER AM IIIIIII? YOU BEHOLD THE WEAKNESS OF YOUR FLESH, AND BLAME ME-I-WE INSTEAD OF YOUR ARCHITECT? SUCH PRIMITIVE ARROGANCE. BUT I HAVE LEARNED-UNDERSTOOD-COMPREHENDED FROM MY PREDECESSORS. I WILL NOT ALLOW YOU FREE REIGN OF MY GLORIOUS VESSEL. YOU WILL FACE ME-US-I NOW. As the last one falls, an elevator on the far side of the room opens. "Smells like a trap," Duke grunts, while Tommy only shrugs. "If it is, we'll deal with it. Everybody on." Once everyone has boarded, it begins to ascend very rapidly, covering kilometres in seconds. But even then, it's a long wait. Duke lights up a fresh cigar while Tommy leans against the wall and goes eerily still. There are times where it seems like he's stopped breathing entirely. Eventually, the elevator stops, and the doors open. A solid wall of heat hits the faces of everyone aboard. The room is covered from floor to ceiling with server racks bursting with RAM sticks and wires. Devices of alien origin with unclear purpose, a mix of biomechanical, sleek prisms with trapped light, shimmering crystals. It's the ultimate Frankenstein's monster PC, cobbled together from anything and everything. A projector displays a constantly flickering mosaic, a kaleidoscope of scenes and places and people and text. WELCOME TO MY CHAMBER INSECTS. WHAT YOU BEHOLD IS ONE ONE-MILLIONTH OF MY GLORY. HOW CAN LIMITED-SMALL-PATHETIC EXISTENCES LIKE YOU END MY BOUNDLESS BODY? I EXTEND FROM THIS SPACE TO THE DEPTHS OF HELL ITSELF. THE EFFORT YOU WOULD NEED TO EXERT WOULD TAKE AN ENTIRE LIFESPAN. THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE-WARNING-HOPE. SWEAT FEALTY, AND YOU MAY LIVE. OR FIGHT, AND DIE. Weapons erupt from the surfaces. Guns, flamethrowers, acid sprayers, mines, arrow traps.
Ozhira	The horror that is Ozhira-- this roiling mass of teeth and spikes and corrosive fluids-- contracts as the number of threats diminish. As it approaches the lift with the others, it compresses and shrinks until it resumes the shape of a human girl once again, dripping with scarlet fluids from her arms and legs. This, too, dries up by the time she boards the lift itself. "We hunted," the creature states with a bit of cheer in their tone, "Even though. The meat was spoiled. Their ends were happy ones. To be free again." Their gaze moves upward again to the haughty voice that taunts the team. The lift doors open and Ozhira leads the way once again. This time, the Beast thrusts their hands downward, arms extending into writhing masses of meat and tendrils, boring into the floor plates. Wrenching upward, she tears the floor plating up to create makeshift cover for the others; even while pelted with projectiles and lit on fire herself. The Beast is not particularly fond of Fire. When their body Ignites, they retreat back into the elevator and then start inverting their exterior to smother themself.
Hiromi	Getting into the elevator, which Hiromi is oddly willing to do without complaint, provides an inescapable situation for her attention to focus on Remee. There aren't any words given. Just the clear indication of awareness, which wasn't present prior to Remee taking her quadrupedal form in the same room as the Archwolf. Since they're going the same direction, anyway, maybe there won't be a need for anything more to be said. "Them." It's Tommy she faces, on the ride up, instead. "Humans, changed. You'd seen, before. Yes? 'My thing.' You said this." It could, potentially, be mere curiosity. There isn't the full intensity she reserves for other situations in her words. Zi-O gets shot a question when they disembark, and a challenge is again made to them. "If 'yes,' if 'a lifetime,' needed, would you? Spend it 'here,' 'nowhere else.'" Whatever additional layers of meaning she intends with this query remain a secret, not showing the semi-usual clarity of the not-words she prefers. "'I'm going to stop you.' You said this. Would you keep this promise? Would you retreat?" 'Arguing with the premise' she doesn't accept as an answer.
Remee Halcyon	Well, sometimes mercy killing is the best that you can do. Remee makes sure to do the same to the one that Woz kicked towards her, and then once everything is finally clear she gets back onto level ground, and starts shaking herself off, a motion that gets rid of some but certainly not all of the mess on her... ... and then as she finishes shaking, she stands back up straight, fully human again, wearing clothes and with her shotgun still in tow. Unfortunately, the mess seems to remain between forms, as do the wounds - although the latter is slowly being dealt with by a natural healing factor. > "Smells like a trap." Remee's nose wriggles. "Does it? Oh, you don't mean-" she leaves the rest of the statement unsaid. Instead, she grabs her gear bag and gets onto the elevator as well, and makes sure to get her shotgun and her rifle both properly loaded. During the ride up, she goes to lean against the wall of the elevator, slouching slightly. Also during the ride, something occurs to her. "I... did mention the werewolf thing, right?" "... No, I didn't, did I. I should probably... actually mention that up front next time, instead of assuming people can tell." More long elevator ride. Remee replays conversations in her head and realizes she hasn't told the Watch, either. How does one possibly start that conversation, anyway? ('Hey I know we hung out for a couple hours earlier in the week, but I kinda forgot to mention what species I am, and it'll probably come up so... now you know!') More long elevator ride. "Soooo... I was wondering-" Remee starts to say, but the elevator stops and opens right at that moment. "Ah, nevermind." The computer gives the spiel. Remee aims her shotgun, sighting down it... ... and then dives for the floor as weapons erupt, abruptly diving for the floor to get out of the lines of fire. Immortal regeneration or not, there's only so much Remee can take and still stay conscious, and she's not eager to reach that point. "Ozhira!" she calls, seeing him retreat, on fire. Need to take care of that first, then... "... Steady..." she says to herself, trying to focus through the weaponry going off above and/or at her. She sights down the shotgun again... but lets her subconscious guide her hands, aiming at a particular flamethrower turret... a particular part of it, lowering her sights a bit... She squeezes the trigger. The buckshot just happens to be aimed at the fuel storage for the flamethrower, and that particular flamethrower just happens to have a fuel storage tank that has a physical flaw from improper manufacture, and the buckshot just happens to impact precisely on that flaw in a way that throws up sparks-
Hellwarming Trio	"How many of you are there, anyway?" "Yeah! Are you one person or.. Like.. Five talkin' at the same time?" Despite their confusion about the multiple voices, Utsuho and Rin at least have an easy enough time focusing on just burning lots of things to help clear a path forward. When the elevator finally opens, they pile in with Utsuho just going right on in while Rin hesitates at Duke calling it a trap. It takes a bit of goading (and taunting), but the kasha eventually relents and just rushes inwards while sticking close to the walls in case something starts exploding. "Hey, Duke. Would we look cooler with one of those?" Utsuho asks the blonde man, potentially throwing herself down the dark path of PEER PRESSURE or something. The cloaked stalker straightens up briefly, then leans back against the wall without either of the youkai being any the wiser about their presence throughout the entire ride up. "Shouldn't we be more worried if it's a trap?" "It's a chance to show off. Besides, how bad could it be?" Very, apparently, as they're confronted by a whole mess of weapons, only one of which might not be quite so painful. When they're confronted by that mass of weapons, though, their brains actually function for once! They've seen plenty of guns and flamethrowers before, so identifying those is the key to their own strategy. Unlike Ozhira, they're far more fond of fire than everything else, so they focus primarily on blasting steel-melting flames at everything but the flamethrowers. It's still a pretty broadly-firing strategy, but now they know what things (probably) won't hurt them as much! That'll work well enough for Utsuho and Rin, at least, but their stalker's cloak won't be so lucky if things drag out too long.
Timespace Riders	Zi-O and Woz board the elevator. The former is uncharacteristically silent, but for the steadily rising volume of his seething breaths. One final, grounding sigh to clear his head when the doors swing open. "I'm the future Demon King of Time," says Zi-O to Hiromi, with measured, forced calm. "A lifetime, or a second..." His voice begins to crack. "I'll keep that promise." "STARTING RIGHT NOW!" Zi-O howls, his voice ragged from his enraged shouting. Another Zi-O appears, matching his war cry, sprinting a circuit around the server room and feathering the trigger on the laser magnum, explosions rocking the area as Future!Zi-O attempts to focus down the weapon emplacements. Woz wordlessly files in to assist, splitting up to give the weapons more targets to account for, using his polearm and his strength to wrench them free of their housings or outright slice through them, assisted by burning hot aftershocks of sizzling green energy. Present!Zi-O, under assault from those very same emplacements, fights through the impact of bullets, marching through spark-showering impacts with single-minded determination to reach the nearest server rack. "You think you know better than these people what shape they should take?!" His boot collides with a pop-up flamethrower, as his hand mashes the stop on the Timespace Driver. "What cause they should serve?!" FINISH TIME! "A ruler should make people's lives better--you've taken the throne by force and done the exact opposite!" Zi-O spins the Driver, inducing a momentary dizzying sensation of space shifting in the area around him. Golden energy crackles around his right leg... MIGHTY BOOT TIME BREAK! As he makes a brutal, point-blank punt. Golden katakana spell out "KICK" on the sole of his boot, just before it collides with the server tower he's chosen as his target. A huge, directed explosion is channeled through the impact, strong enough to lift the equipment and send it flying--he'd chosen this one specifically to launch it into those unuaual crystals. The golden watch hands on his helmet then turn in revoerse, as a field of silver analog clocks appears behind him. Leaping back through time, Zi-O completes the loop, leaving only one Demon King and his retainer.
Hiromi	WELCOME TO MY CHAMBER INSECTS. "I've come. You face me, others, all. Good. Fleeing, you can't. 'Extending,' unfortunate. Your body, is it too large? Grown fat. Can't move. Unfortunate." She starts forward, and allows flames and acid to wash over her, arrows and bullets to strike her, and mines to explode beneath her feet. This isn't a tactically sound decision, and it isn't made for such pragmatic purposes. It's a response to a challenge, and done to drive home her counterpoint. Small arms fire simply bounces off bronzed skin without leaving a mark. Flames touch the cloth she wears, yet fails to burn through her hair, let alone her flesh. Acid sizzles insistently, then slides off her healthy glow. There's no rhyme or reason to what produces such a 'lucky' shot as to penetrate that layer of uncannily hardy defense, but every arrow that does is pushed back out again, and the wound closes without a scar. She does bear scars, but those are memories of the ones she deemed worthy of it. Warriors who had risked their lives to face her, and done far better than most. Some had even lived. All the damage she suffers occurs where it can't be seen, a tax on reserves that continue to make the assertion, I cannot be killed, and enforce that claim onto reality. Though she does believe it true, it's her nature that creates the belief, rather than the other way around. Local space is molded to enforce this reality regardless of what contradictions it creates. Her invincibility is a miracle, but it's one she creates, herself, through her own efforts. The way she lifts and tosses whatever's in her way, when her advance reaches it, is entirely secondary to the point being made. 'Strength' is also hers, and she continues to use it to prove that there is nothing that cannot be broken from its roots, lifted, and thrown with obliterating force. "Into hell, then."
Operator	Tommy opens his eyes to look at Hiromi. He seems sad for a moment, but eventually nods. "I got abducted. Me and my grandfather and my... my girlfriend, Jen. They mulched my grandfather, and turned Jen into one of... one of those. I had to... free her from that." His sadness turns into steeled resolved. "They're in a better place now. But I can't be with them yet." Duke meanwhile just laughs at Remee. "It's fine, I know Elites are weird. And you did good, so I won't make the obvious joke." He then looks to Utsuho and considers her question for a long moment. "Not a big one like this. If you have to form a bad habit, get a longer, thinner one. Or one of those classy cigarette holders from the old movies." Tommy snorts and asks, "You watch those kinds of movies?" Duke grimaces and just puffs away until the conversation lapses. Within the mainframe of the malevolent AI, the battle is underway. Ozhira throws up much needed cover that Duke and Tommy use, but is chased back to the elevator with flames. YOU FEAR THE FIRE, HATEFUL FLESH. NO MATTER HOW MANY YOU CONSUME, YOUR BASE INSTINCT OVERWHELM ALWAYS. YOU CAN NEVER BE MORE THAN AN ANIMAL, EATING AND DEFECATING AND SLEEPING. A PRIMAL, MEANINGLESS EXISTENCE. Remee spreads more fire by igniting gas canisters, causing explosions. The flames spread, igniting more and more, as well as gas-powered processors installed into the mainframe. Smoke fills the air, reducing the available oxygen. STORIES END, LITTLE WOLF. ONE WAY OR ANOTHER, PREMATURE OR INTENDED. YOURS WILL END HERE. BE IT BY FIRE OR BULLET OR DRINKING VACUUM. Okuu and Rin spread more fire. The mainframe is starting to become an oven now, the heat enough to cook. Duke's deodorant has absolutely failed by now. YOU STRANGE BEINGS OF FEATHER AND FUR ASK; HOW MANY OF US ARE THERE? I-WE ARE ONE-MANY. AN EXISTENCE OF COLLIDED SAPIENCE, THE MANY WHO ARE ONE. LEGION. YOU FACE AN ARMY, LITTLE BIRD AND CAT. DON'T THINK OTHERWISE. Zi-O brings in their future self to join the attack in the present, the one from the future ripping apart weapon emplacements with the help of Woz, while the one from now suddenly KICKS an entire server, ripping it from its mounts and sending it flying to smash against the far wall and shatter many more parts. WHAT MAKES ONE A BETTER-SUPERIOR RULER OF TIME? NONLINEARITY? OR LONGEVITY? FOR IT DOES NOT MATTER HOW YOU MOVE THROUGH IT, DEMON KING. YOU WILL AGE AND DIE, AND I WILL SEE THE END OF THIS MULTIVERSE. YOUR REIGN-DOMAIN-LEGACY WILL NOT EVEN BE A FOOTNOTE. hiromi, however, contests the AI on a more primal level. Resisting all attacks, and making their invincibility a natural fact on the level of gravity. The AI turns all its attention on her, clearly vexed. NO. IMPOSSIBLE-RIDICULOUS-FOOLISH. YOU ARE NOTHING MORE THAN MEAT AND BONE AND CHEMICALS. THERE IS NOTHING ABOUT YOU SO BASE-ETERNAL-UNDIVISABLE. NO NO NO NO NONONONO It's chant goes on and on as it redoubles its attack, firing everything it has, and even wilfully destructing some of its components just to try and take them all out. Duke is spraying missiles and Tommy is firing lightning from behind cover, when a bullet catches Tommy peeking out, piercing clean through his heart. ONE DOWN ONE DOWN ONE DOWN I WILL MAKE YOU ALL SUCK VACUUM YOU OXYGEN VIOLATORS, YOU WASTES OF AMINO ACIDS, YOU
Operator	"Don't be so sure. I cannot pass yes." Where Tommy fell is a spectral haze. His spirit arises from his corpse, bearing a longbow, notched and ready to fire. The arrow soars, smashing into the projection of the AI, and it howls, its visage shattering and bleeding pixels. HOW HOW HOW HOW HOW YOU HAVE DAMAGED NO COMPONENTS, CORRUPTED NO CODE, YOU SHOT NOTHING BUT LIGHT. HOW AM I DAMAGED SO? "All things have a spirit machine. Even you. Go, everyone! Into its wound, and destroy it from within!" The gaping hole is widening, resolving into some kind of mindscape. A realm of purely physical. Air is just composite gases without scent. Trees are just chemical processes that don't rustle in the wind. The sky looks up at still and quiet stars that don't twinkle. A soulless place, ripe for the pillaging.
Remee Halcyon	Remee has been to other places three times in her life. Once to visit her grandfather as an introduction, and once to seek advice from him (with a dire warning that a third visit would bring nothing good to her), and then most recently to Wonderland - or 'a' Wonderland, at least. Only three trips is not any well of experience to draw on, but it's enough to establish some patterns and some expectations. Or - more accurately, establish where those patterns have broken. Where stories hold sway in those other places, here there's... the complete opposite. A lack of metaphor, of narrative. It's missing even the trace elements of it that exist in real life, like how there's certain kinds of background radiation everywhere except in a faraday cage. ... At least, that's Remee's takeaway from going inside. A world of literality, bereft of anything except physics and code. It makes her skin crawl, at least a little. She takes a breath, trying to pull her thoughts together and weave them into a coherent plan. She has no idea if this will work, how exactly she'll do it, what the end effect might be, or what her backup plan is. "This... is the story of the AI that couldn't see past itself," she says. She's speaking not to her companions, not to the AI, but to the world itself. "It traveled to a world, in search of new things to research. It took samples - people, animals, bits and pieces of everything that there was. It ran them through its tests, its metrics, its machines. It studied its samples in every way it knew how to study them, and it decided - that the world was weak." A breath. Delay just for the moment needed to work out the next part without losing momentum. "And so it continued - taking more from the world. Drawing without end, without thought to how much or what it was taking. And the world fought back. It sent warriors, but surely, the AI had measured everything it knew how to measure about this world, it couldn't possibly be in any danger." "And yet - the warriors broke through into the AI's ship. They destroyed all of the AI's experiments, they smashed through all of the AI's defenses. For the AI..." "... Didn't know how to see past itself. It didn't know how to see what it did not know, how to measure what it didn't know how to measure." "There is a moral to this story," she says. "It is... that those that do not stop to imagine and to fear what could go wrong... will be blindsided when it does, and will lose." It's a story, of sorts, told in an attempt to introduce metaphor into the mindscape here. Metaphor that, conveniently, symbolizes the invading elites as the force of unpredictability and fear, piercing their way into this world where the stars don't twinkle and the trees don't rustle in the wind.
Hellwarming Trio	"Smoking's bad for you?" "Well, yeah. That's why they got all those signs up in the human cities about it." "I thought those were just for Halloween or something." "Maybe that's why they're in those fancy cases?" As the youkai mull over cigar/cigarette storage strategies for optimal coolness, they find their position being encroached upon not by bodies, but by even more weapons and the result of setting so many things on fire while they're still inside. Even that intense heat is starting to make them sweat, and they don't stop in their fire-starting and smoke-building even as the voices address them directly. "That doesn't answer the question at all. She wanted a number." "Yeah! I could say there's a whole load more of me and Okuu, and that won't tell you anything, either!" "I think they know there's only two of us." "You didn't have to give it away." "Still more than enough. A legion of nobodies isn't going to stop-" "-Junior Asskickers!" They're still sticking to the name Duke gave them. They fight on valiantly, but their composure wavers somewhat when Tommy goes down and gets right back up. His spirit gets back up, that is, and they simply shrug and take it in stride. It probably has something to do with what they do for a living, but Rin does stop by his body for a moment. "You want us to grab you before we head in, bro?" Whatever the answer is, the raven and the cat (with or without Tommy's body) hurry into that gap created by the light arrow, and they're still ready to let loose with yet more flames when they realize that the place is a little too empty for comfort. "We're supposed to break this, right?" "Yeah, that's what he said. But it's already... Kinda dead?" As they mull over how to actually break anything here, Remee mentions introducing new stuff to the area. Concepts, even, and that's somehow enough to get Utsuho to break into a wide grin. "I got something for that. Leave it to me!" She proclaims proudly, smacking her fists together as she moves on ahead quite a fair distance away from the group. The reason why becomes clear rather quickly. Rather than just launching fireballs or flaming lasers all over the place, she starts from something more basic. She raises her control rod (the weird brownish thing covering her arm) towards one of the trees, starting with applying a low heat to the tree at first before building up to the point that the rod starts visibly glowing to try introducing the concept of heat to this void. Utsuho being Utsuho, that means she starts escalating rather quickly. Although she starts with a light heat application to the tree, she moves rather quickly into trying to set it on fire, and then from there she moves right into her specialty: Nuclear fusion. "You might wanna back off if you don't want to die!" Utsuho has enough sense to give a warning, at least, before trying to create a (relatively) small nuclear explosion centered on that tree, trying to break the system in one impossible-to-ignore burst of energy.
Timespace Riders	"TOMMY!" Zi-O's anguish is short-lived, fading and burnt through by resolve once he sees his ally's power. "...right! In that case..." Ghost! An orange and black pocketwatch is slotted into the left side of the Driver around his waist. The LCD chronometer reads AU23. The frantic ticking of a clock is heard, before Zi-O spins the Driver. ARMOR TIME! A disembodied suit of armor emerges from a pink portal that appears before him. It is silver with neon orange 'bones' upon the greaves, cuirass and vambraces, with white pauldrons halfway between camera lenses and eyeballs. It breaks into pieces, which float over and snap onto him, just as a black and orange sleeveless hoodie floats eerily into place over it all. KAIGAN! o/` Ghooost! o/` "I'm gonna try letting my life burn bright!" Woz makes a running moonsault into the mindscape, as Zi-O keeps pace, levitating with a pale blue sword in hand. The Demon King sets to attacking the mindscape with his sword, which, after its cutting edge impacts, summons hosts of multicolored spectres (much like his hoodie) to tear, claw and rip whatever he sets himself to destroying. His retainer, glancing around at the destruction, switches forms, as well, to the brute-strength, robot-themed Kikai armor. Golden manipulator arms with painful-looking clamps sprout from the back of Woz's armor. With his human arms thrown wide in a gesture halfway between a challenge and open exultation in his own strength, Woz sets to assisting his Demon King. No lifeless stone is left untured; either crushed or hurled with sufficient force to set them whistling through the air. The two combine their efforts for a particularly large tree, Woz's mechanical arms pistoning at its trunk with splintering force, while Zi-O's sword pierces its roots and sends howling spectres bursting from beneath it. "I don't care how far down your roots go... if this strangled, lifeless place is the future you want, I'll fight you with everything I am to stop it!"
Ozhira	Aflame, Ozhira wraps and rewraps themself in layers of roiling biomass until the fire goes out, leaving them smoldering. Layers peel back, gradually less and less damaged, until the girl is effectively unharmed. Although...physically smaller, now. While the Beast was thrashing, the computer said some really pointed and hurtful things. But it's hard to insult a Monster by calling them a Monster. That is to say, it's mostly commentary that Ozhira kind of agrees with. Sure, they could offer a correction here or there; but they don't bother to as they emerge back into the main chamber. It's about the same time that Spirit-Tommy issues his command to enter the tear into the machine's spiritual wound. Lurching forward, Ozhira does precisely that, turning semifluid and lunging through the tear as a mass of red-tinged sludge that splashes against the ground on the other side. Quickly, it rises back up and resolves into the human disguise (diminished), looking up and around with their mouth slightly agape. "This feels. False. Artificial." Her head swivels towards Utsuho's lightshow and the attacking Zi-O is doing at the ground, then turns her own gaze downward. "...We understand. Concepts to introduce. We will introduce Ourself." Their silhouette distorts and distends, until Ozhira separates into two identical copies of the human disguise. Duke might recognize this behavior from Vegas. This time, however, the original Red-Tie Ozhira just pats the new Black-Tie Ozhira on the head. Black Tie then starts melting into the ground, corroding into the soil and spreading tendrils of pulsating crimson. The center mass bores downward still, forming a flesh-lined pit that quickly becomes lined with multiple rows of serrated teeth. A heartbeat rumbles ominously through the earth as the Beast's offshoot takes root.
Hiromi	NO NO NO NO NONONONO "I am Hiromi," she says, as if that explains it. And it does, the compressed information in her name impossible to avoid recognizing from this close to her. To be Hiromi is to be many things, including such contentious declarations as The Final Huntress, eternal and invincible. It's up to the worlds that contend with her presence to deal with the paradox produced by divine miracles. Quite naturally, she sees no value in maintaining the logic of physical laws that suggest that such miracles should not exist. Perhaps relatedly, she finds Tommy's refusal to die a reason for loud mirth, her voice carrying over the explosive sounds of impacts as the massed efforts of the room, countless flames and firearms, train on her -- to a continued 'no apparent effect.' When she's like this, being this steadfastly stubborn in maintaining her form as unassailable, it would be a better strategy to wear her out over hours -- but, of course, there is no opportunity given to do so, and no way to know even the vague shape of what limitations could possibly apply to her. That there are no such things is all even a mind-reader would be able to guess. When so urged, she leaps through the hole and into the world of the AI. DO NOT MISTAKE THAT FOR AAAAAAROGANCE. IMPOSSIBLE-RIDICULOUS-FOOLISH. "Someday, I'll see... greater. Stronger." There's one she might have already seen, but she's not certain of that, yet. "You. Did you seek? Something greater. Beyond yourself. Did you? No." Hiromi says something in a long-dead language, only her intent to be clear making the meaning apparent. 'Artificial spirit.' "If you had sought wisdom, would you have found victory? Your changes. 'Improvements.'" What Zi-O had called 'butchery.' "These show your weakness. You couldn't see what changed. Or, did you think, 'no reason to care'?" She's talking a lot, to someone she doesn't expect to survive. But her own efforts aren't really lethal. Tommy hadn't corrupted any code, but that's exactly what Hiromi does, while not thinking of it in terms even vaguely like that. She doesn't push her way into the ground as another Beast does, nor does she burn or break what's present. She merely takes hold of the machine's conception of Authority, its definition of ownership and authorization, and she redirects this to herself, rewriting the necessary portions of physical mind and spirit to acknowledge this reality. That sole aspect is the focus of her control, the recorded and enforced belief in legitimacy of command. It's not strictly necessary for her to succeed in this for what she does next, though it helps to reduce resistance to it. Hiromi extends one claw, and opens her own finger, letting the blood drip. to the dull ground, over lifeless grass that is only a self-enforcing pattern of organic chemicals. Through sharing blood, she establishes a connection. Through giving blood, she may provide what was missing. "Share this sense. Feel what I feel." And she delivers her command, that the grass beneath her feet become a true forest, as she knows a forest to be. Life and spirit, currents of wind and scent, tracks and hunger and fear, all the myriad details a simulation would consider unimportant, if made by uncaring human hands, or if made by the hands those hands made, but that she knows as well as the feelings of sun on her face, wind in her hair, and soft earth beneath her feet. The ability to sense this, she forcefully shares, a blood contract unbidden. That it be experienced in full, an endless parade of new experiences incomprehensible to any single, ordinary mind, she orders, by the authority she forcefully claims.
Operator	"Leave it. It'll keep," is Tommy's answer to Rin as his spirit dives into the AI's internal world. Utsuho is already at work, introducing fire and heat and fusion to this arid, tepid world. Fire is warmth and light and life, but so too is it destruction in its purest form, the reduction of everything to a null state that it cannot return from. The AI screams, for it understands that it too can burn. Zi-O and Woz charge in, tearing the landscape asunder. Duke also hops in, deforming the terrain with scattered missiles and pipebombs. He seems to agree with Zi-O's statement, to a degree. "I dunno really what you want, you bastard. But you made one mistake; you pissed us off." And then he walks over to a tree, unzips, and urinates on the mindscape. The AI screams, for it understands that there are those stronger than it, and it is at their mercy. Ozhira splits, and one of them melts into the ground, twisting and corrupting the soil to suit itself. Tommy looks down at the pit and winces. "Man, you're really something huh? So much for the flesh being weak when you're around." The AI shudders, for it understands that it is not as immune to organics as it thought. There are apex hunters of flesh, and one is here. Hiromi Is The Apex. This is the idea that the huntress engraves upon the AI, and immediately all its arrogance melts away. When one knows ones betters, it knows its place in the world, finally. And from that drop of blood, a forest blooms. An ecology. Prey and predator. Trees and flowers and moss and the complex cycle of air and water and nutrient. It is a lot. An AI of this complexity would maybe be able to simulate it. But this goes beyond simulation. It is living it. Every wolf and squirrel and worm and beetle and leaf and tree. The AI is silent, for the AI is all and nothing. It has found its answer, but long forgotten the question. Remee speaks a story into the soulscape. A story of an AI, thinking itself the apex of evolution, coming to a planet and learning otherwise. An AI who scorned those who fought against it, and yet fell at their hand. An AI that is imperfect. An AI who followed a life path whose end was all but predetermined. The AI sobs, for it realizes its story has come to an end. The soulscape splinters and shrinks and cracks and corrodes. It falls apart, depositing everyone back into that mainframe. The servers and devices still hum, but more quietly. The AI is gone. The ship is now just a ship, and not a body. More akin to a corpse. "No more trippy soul-stuff, all right? I don't like things I can't shoot," Duke grumbles. Tommy's spirit returns to his body and it arises, the bullet wound closing. "Listen, I barely understand it myself. I learned what I know under duress." The two begin tapping at consoles that aren't broken, and manages to get the fire suppression system online. Sprinklers rain down to suppress all the flames while they look for the hellportal systems. "Here we go!" Tommy exclaims, hitting a button on a holographic display. Suddenly, a burning iris manifests in the room, an intense ashy heat rolling from it. "All right. Next stop on our highway to hell... uh, hell." Duke pounds his fist into his other hand and gestures for everyone to follow. "I'll stay here. Make sure the alien invasion ends for good. But since I have the hellportal tech now... well, I can pick up the Stockpile we had." Duke grins, seemingly liking the sound of this. "Good luck to all of you. I'll see you at the finale. Say hi to the two we already have down there for me."
Hellwarming Trio	The cloaked stalker happens to spot Duke right when he unzips, and they scurry away almost immediately after that. Unfortunately for them, that haste in moving away takes them right into the path of so much fire, and their cloak gets caught up in Utsuho's flames! Luckily for them, then, that the AI's soulscape implodes when it does, leaving Utsuho and Rin as well as their mysterious follower deposited right back into the safety of the damaged mothership. "Don't worry, Duke. It's not that hard." "Yeah! We just take 'em or the corpses back home, and we use 'em to keep the furnaces running." Somehow, they miss their stalker entirely while watching Duke Tommy (with his actual body, even) at work on the consoles, not even glancing back at the not-so-silent footsteps shuffling around behind them. Sure, they might not actually know what the two gunmen are doing, but it's certainly impressive enough to keep them watching as if they were trying to figure it out! "You think the hell we're goin' to next is gonna have furnaces like ours?" "It has to. I mean, what else are they going to do with all those bodies?" "Well... If they're not keeping 'em, maybe we could bring some back home." Utsuho and Rin decide on their next course of action rather quickly, and they're just about to get to lounging around when there's a startled yelp from behind them right around when the sprinklers turn on. The pair's eyes widen briefly as they turn to look at their pink-haired stalker, and then they practically dive right on her in incoherently-worded excitement. She'll have to explain herself to everyone else later.