Darkness swallowed the swordsman whole as the light from the portal behind him shrank until nothing was left of it.

The Fifteenth Universe was now behind him, and before him lay the universe beyond all universes; even to the Gods this was uncharted territory, often presumed a mere myth. Well, myth no more.

Trunks went to move. His muscle flexed to carry his left leg forward, but a force rejected him, and struck his entire body with paralysis.

What the fu— the swordsman's thoughts paused as a silhouette shifted though the pitch-black, glimmering a metallic tint through the blind scenery. It was a grin, a large grin, which phased in and out of picture from angles that made Trunks' head dart around like a bewildered compass.

He focused his Ki on determining the origins of the spectacle. Nada. His senses came up emptier than a handle of scotch amongst a room of drunks.

Quote:My name is Omni.

Quote:This is not the world you know. This is the Omniverse. You interest me, so I have made you part of it. The Omniverse is a place that reflects the wishes of those who are part of it. But! There are rules. I will explain them only once, so listen carefully.

Quote:This is Omnilium. It’s what ties the Omniverse together. Without it, you are nothing. With it, anything you desire can be yours. But you will need more than this. If you desire it enough, you will find it. You will find that using it comes naturally. Just think of what you desire most.

Quote: You will not be alone in the Omniverse. There are others. Of course, they, too desire Omnilium. Do not fear death. For as long as you interest me, you will be reborn.

“That’s all you need to know right now. You’ll figure out the rest soon enough.

Quote:
“I'll be watching . . . and waiting,”

It didn't take long for Ballad to remember why exactly he despised these things so much.

As he passed through the portal, his feet was immediately lifted off the ground, followed by him being flung forward by a sudden gust of wind. He felt like throwing up several times as he continued spinning around, gravity apparently a foreign concept in that transportation dimension. It certainly didn't help that his entire view was blurred, and it was just icing on the cake for the color of the entire mini-void to consist of solely purple. It was an assault on his eyes just as much as it was an assault on his stomach.

But even as he was floating around at the mercy of whatever laws of physics that governed that strange zone, he couldn't help but save certain segments of it in his mind. At that moment, he had reasoned that that knowledge could've been useful to know though the gunsmith was fairly certain he didn't want to be carrying around memories of the time he nearly heaved while doing several front flips in midair.

Thankfully, by the time he started feeling faint, he saw another color: black. It grew closer as he drew nearer to it before he finally crashed, the jet-black hole enveloping his senses.

--------------------

The gunner slowly slid his eyelids apart, groaning. His face was firmly pressed down onto the soft, cold ground; his unprotected cheeks felt frozen, and he probably would've been sniffling if his scarf had not covered his nose. His stomach no longer felt like it was about to be yanked out of his body, so that was another plus.

Ballad lifted his head off the snow-covered ground, looking around the area the portal had delivered him too.

The landscape was, for the most part, a gigantic, flat snow field. His coat blew upwards; the wind was rather fast and was kicking up snow in every direction, obscuring every intricate detail of the land. The high-pitched whistling that occurred whenever the wind blew past his ears only further inhibited his senses. Before he had even stood up, he had already gotten a sense as to the level of danger the realm housed.

What made it worse was that that was all he could think about.

A place like the Fields did not need any more danger. It did not need any more enemies to fight because the one enemy that everyone could agree was an enemy was the one enemy that you couldn't get rid of. It baffled Ballad trying to figure out how the war between the Dwarves and the Trolls even started. It made literally no sense whatsoever. Exactly what was the point in fighting over a flat piece of snow that was actively trying to get rid of them in the first place? Was there an important element they were fighting over?

The gunsmith shook his head, tightening the scarf around his mouth. At this point, he wasn't sure if the Dwarves or the Trolls even remembered why they were fighting. SPB certainly didn't, else he would've been telling him at that moment. And besides, it didn't matter anymore. If they were going to stop fighting, they would have by the time he figured out one was even happening. But instead, they were going to keep the war going until it had run out of steam. So he was going to add fuel to the fire, and keep adding more until it had sucked out whatever oxygen it could muster and extinguish itself.

But he first had to find the Dwarves.

"These aren't like the zephyrs of Camelot. Suggestions may be necessary, o gunsmith." He said, his tone polite and welcoming.

"First, let's get moving and out of this blizzard. Find shelter." He replied, his eyes shifting to a pale white color before reverting back to yellow. He held his gloved hand out in front of his face, shielding it from the harshness of the weather. He trudged forward, contemplating the potential of replacing his boots with traditional snow shoes as he navigated his way through the blizzard.

--------------------

"This is a rather direful moment for canvassing this."

"It's still fucking important, SPB."

"We appear to be handling our current state of affairs quite effortlessly." He responded in kind, continuing to plod his way through the increasing amount of snow. His other self had been badgering him about the topic of snow shoes for a few minutes, and he had ignored him out of a need to escape the blizzard. His arguments were starting to make more sense, however, especially since the snow beneath him was starting to crawl up his thigh, cramping his legs. Even if he did get out of the blizzard, he wasn't certain if it would be possible to move later on. He wished he could curse himself for his lack of forethought. Information was key, after all.

The wind fought against him, blowing him backwards as he hiked through the snow. The environment seemed determined to drive him into the ground, only getting stronger as each attempt failed. Both of the soldier's hands were in front of his face, and he was visibly grimacing with each step. It was still just as hard to see as it was when they had set foot into the land. It seemed like there was no end in sight.

"I'm not an idiot, SPB. We're gonna die if we don't get one of those things, seriously. I'd much rather want to move fast above the ground rather than lift them ten feet into the air just to take one step." He said through gritted teeth, his voice rough.

After a long pause, he sighed, saying "I know, virescent one. But, as you are well aware, we can't do it here."

"I understand that. I mean-"

A crack loud enough to cover the deafening whistles of the wind interrupted him mid-sentence. He looked down towards his feet, cocking an eyebrow at the ground. His body billowed out smoke as he took a giant leap forward, landing flat on his stomach as the ground where he stood started to split apart.

His heartbeat pumping fast, he carefully stood back up, looking back towards the spot he had stood on moments prior. He was able to make out one distinct feature: a fracture in the ground, with what looked like grey ice.

"Shit.... we're on a lake.... I'm gonna take over for this one, SPB." He whispered, his voice trembling a little as he turned back around, each step being slower and cautious than the last.

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Changing characters from Wakka to (Future) Trunks. Im aware of the deductions n all that.


Character name: Trunks

Character source: I'm gonna use a Xeno (the game) version of Future Trunks, which includes all of his DBZ backstory.


Character history:
(Post Xenoverse)

Consequently, the events that transpired with the Demon God, Demigra, triggered the release of a greater threat!

A grave error made during the time of the First Universe resulted in the birth of a demigod, whom inherited all the capabilities of a God, and the grit of a mortal; Aero was his name. He had been entrapped within the Crack of Time, forever induced into a deep slumber, until time had been distorted so much that he was released.

Trunks and his partner, Kanku, attempted battle with the demigod, but it ended quickly. Trunks was easily knocked unconscious, and Kanku was killed. Ultimately, Whis arrived and saved Trunks before Aero could deliver the finishing blow.

When Trunks regained consciousness he admitted that he was no match for the demigod, regardless of how much he could train. Whis agreed that Trunks was too weak, but that they could reseal Aero with the Super Dragonballs. They would just have to recapture him . . . from the Fifteenth Universe, which the demigod had traversed to while the swordsman was unconscious.

Trunks was redetermined to chase him down.



Physical Description:



Stats:
ATK: 3
DEF: 2
SPD: 3
TEC: 2

Starting Proficiencies: (2000) Physical Strength, Ranged Proficiency

Starting Powers: (1800) Flight

Starting Moves:

I confirm that I have read and agreed to the Rules of Conduct. yup

Quote:A few months after Return from the Ice

Quote:To be continued in Coruscant

Footsteps clicked across the ground of the Nexus as Koal strode behind his master. The young swordman's head hung low, his dark hair blotting out his eyes. His mouth was set in a hard line, and he looked as if he hadn't shaved in days. Which he hadn't, of course. He had been a little preoccupied. His lips curled into a crazed sneer. ' Killing half of yourself tends to be a little time consuming' He thought darkly. His mind drifted back to their transit back to this central verse.
_________________________________

Everything hurt. That was the main thing that registered in Koal's mind, earth-shattering pain. He felt the power of the scythe, and his consciousness rushed to provide Koal with the memories he was seeking. His shaking hands stilled as he registered what logic told him. Seraph was dead, at last the plauge on his mind and body was over. Justice for everyone that demon murdered. His body sagged as sobbs rocked his body. And for once, Koal didn't care if it showed weakness. He really didn't, they didn't understand, and he didn't care to make them.

His tears eventually slowed, coming to a halt altogether. Koal let out a shaky breath, slowly standing to his full height of six foot four. The cavern resounded with the sound of his heavy footsteps. The weapon began to hum a haunting melody, dredging up old memories, warm feelings of his mother holding him close and reassuring him that everything would be alright, that the bad men would be gone soon. The young swordsman naked in the light of the weapon, relishing in the feeling of stability that came with it. He once again brushed his fingers across the smooth metal surface of the enchanted handle. And this time, instead of internal warfare, his mind stilled. He grasped the hilt of the weapon seemed to fit perfectly into his palm. And as the weapon settled into his grip, the markings on the floor glowed a soft silver luminescence.

The cavern began to hum as well, albeit a little lower pitch than the Scythe. They rose and fell in a melodious epic. A scene began to unfold before Koal's eyes, a battle of unknown origin. Though he reconized two things. Seraph and the scythe he currently cradled in his arms. The rest of the battle blurred by, bypassing the passages of time, before finally fading to black. The humming ceased. Not much happened after that, but it took them a grand total of two days to salvage their ship, cross the lake, and traverse the landscape between them and the gate.
___________________________

He felt a hand clamp his shoulder and shake him, rattling his teeth. "...oal. Koal! Listen, child. I must depart for short time, I have other business to attend to. I will contact you in time..." His master handed him a slim object, a phone of sorts, at least that's what it looked like, by Koal's reckoning. He took the slim metal rectangle, slipping it into his pocket. His master removed his gloved hand from the younger sith's shoulder, and then departing, Kylo shooting him a smug and triumphant smirk as he followed Nihilus.

Koal started after them for a second, his right eyelid twitching with irritation and anger. He was being cast aside? For what reason, other than this, ' other business', hmph. WELL FUCK YOU, TOO! He let out an infuriated huff, and turned on his heel, heading to god-knows-where. He summoned his new eapon, feeling the still unfamiliar weight of his scythe settle into his palm. He twirled the eeapon in his hand, throwing it up, and catching it as it came back down. "What now?" His deep voice seemed strange as the only sound he could hear. He missed other sounds, things to distract him from thinking to hard. But now all he has was his mind. His empty mind. He focused his gaze on a close landmark, well, the only landmark he could see. Another portal. Well fan-fuckin-tastic, another strange world that he wouldn't understand, undeniably filled with creatures that wanted to mail him.' Great, lets see what that's all about...'

Slowly Grimm faded back into conciseness. The last thing he remembered was laboriously scratching a rather nasty combustion spell into the padding of his cell. The guards always gave him space after the he had managed to get a levitation spell into one of their pockets causing the poor guardsman to be sent through the wardens office window giving him the time he had needed to set this all up. Grimm shock his head now was not the time for reminiscing about his five year stint in an agency prison. calmly he sat up and looked around and then with a silent chuckle got to his feet. A field. of course it was a field, that was where he awoke last time. A new life, a new world, logicically it had to follow that a new field was also in order. This field was less impressive then the the one he had awoken in so many years ago though. it was smaller giving way to a white void of nothingness after only a few meters. There were no trees and now that he looked there was no dirt either. The grass beneath his feet simply sprouted up from nothingness.

Grimm span on his heels, a quick three-hundred and sixty degree turn. it seemed that he was not the only person in this world, off in the distance he could see people walking, running and riding between eight large gates that stood as the only solid things he could find. In an unfamiliar world surrounded by unfamiliar people Grimm resolved to do what he did best, experimentation. He remembered Omni's rather bare bones description of how summoning things worked. First things first he would need to figure out the basics. A new set of cloths would probably be the best bet. It would allow him to get a feel for this new form of magic, test it's ability to replicate the complex structure of a weave and get him out of the rather conspicuous orange jumpsuit that had been the only item in his wardrobe for far to long. Grimm tried to mimic what he had seen. he raised his hand palm open and pictured his old suit forming around him. As he did so a rainbow coloured bubble slowly began to crawl out of his palm covering his hand in a thick layer and then slowly spreading up his arm. The expanding bubble didn't seem to be harming him but a lack of pain receptors meant that he really was none the wiser as to what exactly it was doing. The bubble kept moving and had made it to his shoulder now. for a brief moment Grimm was worried that it would spread to cover his face but it stopped at the collar of his jumpsuit. Grimm had to admit that the function of this mystery substance was indeed fascinating. it was clearly a fluid from the way it moved but it's shimmering prismatic hues where hard to explain not to mention that fact that it seemed to be obeying his whim without need for magic incantation. He could have mused over it's nature for hours but after only a few minutes it was done. As slowly as it had spread from his palm it faded away leaving him in his old suit. Grimm smiled, his old suit had seen him through some rather impressive adventures and while this one was only an imitation it was enough to remind him of his old home. Out of habit Grimm gave his suit a quick pat down and checked his pockets. He hadn't expected to find anything but it appears that when he had visualised his old suit he had visualised everything including the contents of the pockets. one by one he emptied them into his hands taking inventory as he went. One A5 notebook he used to jot down whatever spells he needed when he was out and about; two vials of cheap enchanters ink, he had always kept the good stuff in his desk at home; one cheap on the go quill he used to scribe ruins into the aforementioned notebook, it wasn't the best quality but it served it's purpose and one deck of cards with various spells scribed into them.

Grimm would have loved to use use this time to set up some new spells but he knew that wouldn't be practical. This world was clearly an empty husk but the gateways shimmering films implied that they might lead somewhere. His best bet was to take a last few moments to gather his bearings and then pick one at random before heading through.

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Smith floated in a dark void, a pit so black that he wasn’t even sure if even HE existed. Was this deletion? The last thing he remembered was forcing his code into Mr. Anderson. His victory had come to pass, just as he’d foretold, and the One had fallen. The look of peace on Mr. Anderson’s face at the end had been a bit… unnerving, truth to tell, but the elation the once-Agent had felt in that moment had overridden any caution he might have had. Not only had he defeated his foe, the man who had taken away his purpose, but by taken over his body, Smith would have his power at his own beck and call.

With the power of the One, Smith would destroy both the Matrix and the world outside it. Both human and machine would fall against his might, beg for mercy, and be dispassionately removed from existence. Then, and only then, would Smith have finally achieved his goal. Without a human race to give reason to the Matrix, and without the machines to govern it, he would no longer have to walk amongst the filth and depravity of humanity.

But then, it was all snatched away from him. Smith remembered the anger and fear that had taken over his programming when he first realized what had happened. That fool! Even as his bodies erupted into white light, Smith cursed Mr. Anderson. He had entered the Matrix through the source! And now the Ex-Agent was being deleted… his purpose unfulfilled. The Machines were absolute in their drive to wipe his program, and it wasn’t long before nothing was left of the program known as Smith.

And now he was nothing at all. The blackness stretched out to infinity around Smith. For a while, the Agent boiled in impotent fury, but that soon passed as the logic of his programming took hold of him. Perhaps he had not been successful in his self-appointed mission… but it seemed that his true goal had been met nonetheless. He was no longer in the Matrix. He was deleted, and would no longer have to tolerate the disgusting smell of humanity. That thought gave him peace.

But once again, this was not to last. He worked over his situation, the logic gates of his mind clicking through the possibilities. No. He could not have been deleted. Had Smith truly been wiped from the core memory of the Source, then he would have no consciousness left to think. But he had most certainly been deleted. Though he’d never experienced it before, what he had felt at that time was most assuredly a destruction of his central programming. So… what was this place? And why was he not destroyed?

Just then, a bright light shone in the darkness, and a streak of fear wormed its way through Smith’s files. That was it, wasn’t it? This was the reset. The Matrix was being reborn, and the Machines had taken their vengeance for his coup by reintegrating him into it! A strange white figure formed from the light, an almost boyish creature with a huge smile. Smith’s program ran a scorn subroutine. The Architect, undoubtedly. Or perhaps the Oracle, returned from the dead. Or… possibly even some combination of the two. Regardless, as the thing began its monologue, Smith couldn’t help but to try to attack it. When he found he could not move, he settled for merely simmering in anger. Fortunately, his system memory was recording the words of the white man, or he might have missed something in his rage. As his rage dissipated, his mind ran over what it had said.

Omnilium… Omniverse… Anything you desired? What were the Machines thinking?! They had tried this ideal world concept before, in the Matrix’s original iteration and it had failed miserably. Doing so again would undoubtedly have the same end result. Why…? Had this been part of a bargain struck by Mr. Anderson with the Machines? Smith didn’t have long to ponder the reason why before the one who called himself Omni vanished and the world began to change around him.