(Pre-Show) The Library

[Karl Jak]

The Library is an enormous, multi-layer dome that houses a ridiculous amount of history within its glass walls. The bottom few floors are mostly books, magazines, and periodicals, but if one takes the stairs up to the top three floors, they'll find various places to watch recordings, movies, and simulations stored on the Library's mainframes.

The history, both digital and print, contained within the Library revolves mostly around confrontations and violence. There is a segment dedicated to the history of Dante's Abyss, but it also contains information about battles and wars from various realities parallel universes, and different times. On should peruse at their own warning in case they don't want to find themselves in one of the books or recordings.

[Alain the Carnedge]

Alain had entered through the portal and, getting a quick grasp of what was happening, slipped by the reporters with relative ease, as it seemed most of them were occupied with harassing others when he'd arrived. The mercenary kept moving down the hallway, only stopping to check the screen that gave a list of potential participants, but kept walking once he realized that in the few seconds he stood there, about five more names had appeared. Most of the people on there sounded like jackasses anyway. He didn't think he'd see the day when Jason Voorhees was the most normal name on a list, but here he was.

The mercenary took a moment to consider whether he should stay here, as this seemed like the best place to gain allies, but decided against it. Too many reporters that couldn't keep out of other people's business. And besides, something seemed to be happening between a green man and some hooded dude, and he didn't want to be there when they started hurling fireballs.

Alain followed the sign that said Library, assuming that it went to well, a library. With luck, none of the reporters would be there, and he enjoyed the prospect of doing some light reading. It sounded a lot better than wandering the Moors for a few more hours, at least. He'd get something to eat later, it wasn't as if he didn't have time. First looking over his shoulder on the off chance he had a stalker, Alain walked into the library dome once he was sure there wasn't anyone following him.

He did have to admit, whoever ran this event went all out. There were enough books in here that it rivaled his old collection, which used to be big enough to make a lot of people in his world a bit more than jealous. Upon walking up the nearby steps, he realized it probably more than tripled what he thought. The mercenary briefly wondered how they got ahold of all of these books, then rolled his eyes at himself. Omnilium. Right.

Alain kept moving up instead of grabbing something to read, just out of simple curiosity as to how much had been summoned. The stairs kept going on. Each floor appeared to be devoid of life, most likely because everybody remained in the lobby. Though after a minute of stairs, he hit the fifth floor.

Instead of books, there were televisions on the walls and seats across from them. Each one had a remote on a nearby coffee table, with only a few options: play, pause, rewind, fast-forward, stop. It didn't take much effort to figure out what they did. Each television had a number on it: 1, 2, 3, and so on. This floor had fourteen televisions, with a fifteenth displaying the entrants list similar to what was in the lobby. He would've assumed that this was the fifteenth Dante's Abyss, but some of the numbers were replaced by "The Mysteries of Space" or something similar. He didn't bother checking, but it that most of these were records of previous DA's, while some were just other history about the world where these used to take place.

Out of curiosity, he checked if there was any new entrants of note. They had about ten more entrants at this point, including...Alain narrowed his eyes. Samus Aran. In one of his many attempts to amuse himself on the Dataverse while traveling in the Moors, the mercenary came across a bounty list. If he recalled, their name was on said list, and they were quite a high-profile target.

Alain took a few moments to think about this. A wanted individual was somewhere in these domes, even if he didn't know where. He opened his dataverse device and took a look at the list. For one, they were a she. Two, from the description, it didn't seem like it'd be hard to pick her out from the crowd, seeing as well, six foot tall person in power armour. Wasn't exactly difficult to spot someone matching that description. But on the other hand, he was in a good mood, and, in hindsight, he couldn't really be bothered to go look for somebody on what was effectively a break before fighting people anyway.

Deciding that this was his day off, the mercenary decided to ignore everyone with bounties until he'd got a base of operations, or at least got out of Dante's Abyss, and also figured that the reading material stopped here. The rest was most likely more recordings. So, he turned back to the stairs and went the way he came to grab a book or two.

[Kenpachi Zaraki]

As he crossed the threshold into the library proper, Vincent could almost feel his pulse slow. Something about silence had always soothed the man; although he found his 'home' in combat, he always valued his 'vacations' in the calm of silence. The Prime would never admit it, but he truly enjoyed battle. For him, it was not the pulse-pounding adrenaline that most adventurers desired, but the thought that he could put his talents and skills to use for the good of another. Despite what some would say of humility or selflessness, this urge to 'protect' and his desire to do so in battle was his own form of selfishness. Many conflicts, he imagined, could be solved without bloodshed. The issue for Vincent, however, was that he was only really good at killing. It was in this way that the Prime's desire to do battle to 'prove his usefulness' and his hatred of death put him between a metaphorical rock and a hard place.

After a good deal of walking, Vincent reached what he assumed was the circulation desk of sorts for the library. At the desk sat a frazzled-looking young woman, enormous horn-rimmed glasses sliding down her nose as her eyes devoured a book. At her side stood a comically large pile of books which looked to be dangerously close to toppling onto the bookworm. She continued to read as the Prime reached the counter, completely oblivious to the newcomer.

“Hello?” The pale Prime inquired, glancing down at the attendant.

“Oh!” the young woman uttered, dropping her book onto the desk. “Sorry, I didn't notice you. That tends to happen when I'm reading. Were you waiting long?”

“Uh...no.” Vincent responded, eying the woman quizzically. “Can you tell me where I could do some research?”

The woman stood bolt-upright, a huge grin crossing her freckled face. “You're in the right place!” she chirped, throwing her arms into the air. “Take your pick!” She swung her arms wildly, her hand grazing her personal stack, now dangerously close to causing a book-alanche. “We've got information of all kinds!”

Vincent glanced around, noting that the library seemed to be sectioned off into sub-areas, each with its own variety of literature. From where he stood he could see a large section of garden variety reference books just a stone's throw from a dimly lit hall that looked to contain thousands of papyrus scrolls in various states of decay. A glass staircase just behind the circulation desk lead to a mezzanine that adjoined a brightly-lit room that looked to be the world's largest storage room of stone tablets. “Do you have anything more...accessible?”

The woman sighed, pushing her glasses to the bridge of her nose. “Well, if you want to be boring there is an electronic database that can be accessed from any of the computers. Though, I'd really suggest the SCROLLS...” Vincent could swear he saw drool fall from the girl's lip as she uttered the final word.

“Thanks,” the ex-Turk said, stepping away from the desk.

“No problem! If you need anything just holler!” The girl called, gesticulating wildly.

Vincent smiled politely at the girl, crossing the room to a nearby elevator. As the doors closed behind him, the Prime could swear he heard a surprised scream followed by the innumerable thuds of raining books.

[Retane]

Retane took his time as he stood there, with a holographic keyboard floating next to him. He had finally found a place chalk full of memories. It was weird to be standing there looking at his own face, his own eyes almost looking back at him. That menacing cruel stare, almost daring himself to move. The namekian had actually caught himself staring back at the hologram, with a similarly stern visage more then once. The technology was actually amazing here. It was so lifelike.

The Emerald Fiend had left the others behind. Arith had actually vanished when no one was looking and Enroshia had suggested they go find him. Retane had a different agenda, and had told the others they could catch up with him later. He had already went through most of the files that he could find on him. Most of them had been labeled Dante's Abyss '06, '07 and '08, but there were a few more. Rise of the New Pantheon and Defense Against the Hive.

The Namekian scrolled through the loop again, thinking that not much had happened back then in the feeds they had had in Dante's Abyss '06. He had struggled with the light back then. The information about him that after he had been exiled from his planet, he had took refuge in an asteroid, and it was there that he had became the mercenary. He had donned a black mask and hooded cloak and had become the 'Dark Hunter'. He had formed a fondness for the lethal weapons that had been dubbed, the "Card's of Destiny". He had took them from the event.

The namekian scrolled through to Dante's Abyss '07 and paused when Retane and Tapion first met out the field. This was where Retane had lowered his weapon and asked if the Konat would join him and help rebuild The Horsemen. This was the point where the Emerald Fiend had laid the foundation for what he would one day make the Horsemen. A legacy that he was told his son continued. THis was also the point in the abyss, where one of the deadliest duo's were formed.

Retane scrolled on ward and paused at the pieces labeled, "Big Battle, Retane Ascends." The dark namekian watched as the red figure stuck his blade under the the ribs and up towards the heart. He was as the mohekian fell. The Horsemen glanced at his hollogrammed self who had just noticed, "Tap-", there was a stammer in his voice, " You...killed...TAPION!"

It was then that Retane saw what he looked like when he was emotionally pained. You could see the sorrow deep in his own eyes. How many others had saw his eyes like that and recognized it? Was it weakness? Was it strength? He wasn't sure. Perhaps it was both.

Retane could feel that this was the point where he ascended. The Emerald Warrior knew that this was not how his kin usually ascended in power. But he was different. He was Retane the Exiled, and he had just watched someone had become fond of die. It took the death of a friend for him to reach his untapped potential. After, not before, not in time to save him. Retane found himself thinking back to Jack. Death was inevitable for one of them. Retane' wasn't afraid of death. He was death, but he didn't want to watch a comrade die. The paradox of it all.

The namekian watched the green aura surround him holographed form and roared,"You took my friend!" Angry and bewildered, Retane could only think of one thing. Revenge. "I'll take YOUR'S!" He planted a nail from the nailgun into the one-eyed sayain he had been against, making good on his promise, then went for the red skinned foe. Retane never got to kill him but had injured the foe. He felt annoyed at himself for that. He scrolled onward, pausing at the next scene.

Tapion had managed to live, he was struggling in this scene. He had been injured even further, Retane had tried to protect him, therewere three onthers around, a pink slob died as Retane killed him trying to get to Tapion. The Konat watched as his holographic self bent down to cradle his bleeding friend, "Tap! Tapion! Stay alive! I can NOT do this shit without you!"

The crimson haired warrior smiled up. Blood was in his lungs though and it made a crackling sound as he tried to whisper, "It was fun. Sorry I couldn't...fight you...in the final two."

"Dammit! Don't you fucking die", Retane's voice was loud and was demanding his friend to stay alive.

"Thanks, for the good run, though," Tap ignored the namekian as if he couldn't hear what he was saying. It had to be the blood coming out of his ears. "Seriously...thank you, Retane. Thank you my friend."

The Emerald Warrior felt a single tear fell from his eye as his holographic form continued to scream out in anger and tears from from his own. Fear of someone taking advantage of his situation had left long ago, and most likely only a fool would try to come at him. Retane watched until he gathered himself and looked down at the corpse, "Tapion, they will all die. That's my mission! I will kill them all just for you! To avenge you death." The rogue wiped his eyes, and started off, his one good eye focusing straight ahead, his Nail gun at the ready.

The renegade stood stood up lifting his friend, by the shoulders, cradling the head, and at the knees. "Come Tapion, let us finish our last journey. I owe you that much, my friend." The solemn words came from deep within his heart. They came upon instinct and were full of truth and promise as Retane meant every last word of it. He stepped out of the building, and stepped into darkness. The ominous darkness surrounded the assassin in irony of how his heart felt. The Dark Hunter truly felt alone.

"We will finish our trip. I promise."

Retane wondered how he would feel if it was alone in this event. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. Would he be able to handle?

Can't you here me? I keep calling at you. Will you at least answer me? I know you can hear me. I miss you...

The namekian paused for a moment and took in a deep breath. Was his mind playing tricks on him? What was it that he was hearing? He paused for a moment, listening, nothing.THe Namekian couldn't figure out what it was he hearing randomly. Someone had to be playing tricks on him.

[Retane]

The namekian shook his head and scrolled through to Dante's Abyss '08. He already knew he buried his friend on an island, and had killed one more before stepping into a dead zone and his collar erupted. He didn't want to watch it again. He had however taken another trophie from that the Abyss as well. He had adapted the Reaper's Scythe into his battle style. Even created one that could turn into a chained one.

He paused at the scene where he and Tapion had just met up again. "What does The Abyss mean to you?" He had asked Tapion before he revealed who he was. The two hadn't scene each other since the Abyss. Retane was now the God of Death. Retane remembered watching it and reading the screen.. He had been sent to Hell after his collar had exploded. But even Hell could not keep him contained. He had come back. The namekian looked at his holographic self. He could see the trust in his old friend; Could see the new life it brought him.

He looked into Tapion's eye's and saw uneasiness. The namekan looked down at the metal floor where he stood. He knew what the next loop was. The God's of Betrayal would soon find out what it felt like. His finger scrolled to the next scene as the duo shook hands. He paused where he was again looking at a burning corpse, his holograph looked up at the call of his name. It was Tapion who had took the high ground as the namekian did the close work.

"It just wouldn't have worked out this time." The Konat had already loosed a cocktail of napalm at him.

"Tap!" He shouted, "Don't! You! Dare!" It was too late and the claws the Emerald Fiend slashed at the Molotov cocktail, and he sent up an orb that would explode into blinding light." Solar Blast!"

The real Retane looked away, feeling the sheer brightness but looked back around as the gloved fist sunk deep into the Konat's chest and he heard his voice say, 'I trusted you..." He watched the claws slash down, deeping deep where the heart would be. "I trusted you old friend, but I understand."

Retane wondered what his holographic form was thinking. Did he truly understand? The Emerald Warrior couldn't understand it at all. He wondered what he would do if Jack Frost did such a thing. He couldn't believe it so. He was too innocent. But so was Tapion at one point...

I have you back if you need me... I know you can hear me. I hear you begging for my help....

Retane looked around again. What was it that kept calling out to him? Was it something inside him perhaps? No one else had seemed to heard it before. So he knew it had to be going on in his head. But it kept getting louder. What was it then? The namekian felt his usual annoyance when it came to not knowing things. He used his finger to scroll onward. He didn't want to watch as he carved Tapion's chest again. He didn't want to watch as he barely lived. He didn't want to even watch his death against two others.

The namekian let out a long sigh. He was numb and confused. He couldn't see himself nor Jack betraying each other. But this was a place where everyone had to die except one person. The Emerald Warrior knew that and Jack had to know it as well. The namekian looked deep in his heat and questioned the point. Was he willing to watch a friend die?

The namekian paused for a moment. When had he considered Jack a friend? The darkness in him was against it all, but The Horsemen and namekian were all for it. The Namekian laughed then, out loud. His own darkness didn't want him to be a friend to Jack Frost. It would make it a lot easier if he had to kill him. It always made things easier. Still Retane laughed and shook his head.

"What's so funny?"A voice familiar to the rogue called from behind.

Retane jerked around spinning the keyboard to look at Enroshia along with Tapion and Jack Frost. The mystic warrior strode forth with a stern face and looked at the screen, then looked from the guardian, to the namekian.

"I want you both the understand something, I disagree with both of you being here, but it is nothing I can stop." Enroshia took a deep breath and his words almost micked the words in the holograph"What's Next? You're to be faced with one of three rather hard-to-swallow situations."

Retane looked to Jack as Enroshia spoke, He already knew the words. 'One. Tapion or Retane will die in a fight by the other's side. Retane will forever be lost in his own self, without his close friend. Lost in anger and wanting nothing but to kill. Jack what will you do if you let Retane die? Will you succumb to the Abyss?

"Two. You will have to face each other in the end to decide which of you will be victorious. Do you really think you can? Or are both too soft. Can you set your friend up, put a weapon to his head, look him in the eyes and tell, that of which you call a friend, good bye, then pull the trigger? Or could you be more devious and take one of his own weapons, and use it against him? Will you be able to handle the blood that splatters upon you? Will you lick the droplets that get upon your lips and give a smile that you want to hide from the world? Will you be able to savoir the victory? Can you handle that?" ENroshia then looked straight to Retane.

"Three. You die. You fall to the ground taking your last bit of breaths as your foe stands over your body. You recognize defeat as everything goes black. You become eliminated from the Abyss and you fail your mission to survive. There will be no, 'I didn't accept the mission this time.'. You accepted the mission when you place that collar on."

The namekian had already been overwhelmed with emotion, but instead of answering Enroshia, he looked back to Jack and gave a nod, "I'll be there for you my friend. I will not let you down. "

Jack flashed a smile stronger then any other he had seen, "I told you, I am here to keep you safe. I have your back."

Retane nodded and looked to Tapion and let out a long sigh. "You wont here be much longer will you?"

The Mohekian shook his head, "Only here till its out time. I wont be in this event sadly."

The Emerald Warrior nodded his head understanding. He would have smiled but it wasn't the time.

[Galel Baraz]

Galel strode through the aisles of the Library, his third eye rapidly scanning each shelf for interesting titles. With such little time left before the contestants were shunted off to the Barracks, the Marines wished to learn more about the Omniverse while they had the opportunity. Galel in particular had jumped at the chance to learn every scrap of information he could.

The Sorcerer held two books in a single hand, both closed as he continued to scan for volumes to bring with him to the barracks. 'A Brief History of the Omniverse' was printed on the spine of one, while 'An Accounting of the War for the Black Gate' was handwritten on the cover of a tome bound in leather. Galel picked another book from the shelf, flipping it over in his hand. 'Peoples and Tribes of the Omniverse' read the title. The Sorcerer nodded, placing the book in his stack and continuing to scan the shelves.

Ten minutes later, Galel sat at a table, his pile of books now numbering five. He eyed the two volumes he had added, 'On the Topic of Omnillium' and 'Prime's Primer'. While not particularly useful for learning about the people and history of their new home, they would no doubt prove useful for assessing their new capabilities, strengths, and weaknesses. Galel glanced to Okor, nodding to the Plague Marine and allowing his to pick the first book. The Rotting Giant chuckled, taking 'Peoples and Tribes of the Omniverse' and opening it up. Note to self, find another copy of that one. Galel thought to himself, as he opened 'A Brief History of the Omniverse'.

[Kenpachi Zaraki]

The pale prime strode smoothly across one of the many high balconies the clung to the walls of the library dome. While he had spied a handful of contestants from this height, some reliving past parts of their own history and others soaking up information on the other contestants, he did not take much time to examine them or considered them complexly. Some could argue that this was an oversight, that any information on those whom he would soon be fighting against for his life would be beneficial. This, Vincent knew, was certainly the case, but he could not find the focus to concentrate on this fact at the moment. The anxiety of the impending competition combined with his relatively small knowledge of the contest as a whole spurred him away from idle contemplation. Though his face displayed his normal stoic facade, his mind raced while his heart pumped hard in his chest.

The ex-Turk had come to this contest with an intention of escaping back to the universe that he had left behind. His most earnest hope was that of surviving the event and gleaning information from Jak that could send him home. He had spent a good deal of time in the Omniverse (how long he could not precisely know due to Omni's special 'physics') and though he had done some good in aiding the Sola brothers, he knew that his hands were needed in his own realm. The words he shared with Nanaki assured him of this fact; the unexplained earthquakes and the strange subterranean rift has persisted, threatening the world he called home. Vincent got the impression from those he had observed and met in this universe that many saw it as an opportunity to start over, while others chose to game its rules and acquire power and wealth that they had not or could not gather in their previous 'life'. Though the chance to start a new life certainly appealed to the cloaked Prime, Vincent knew all too well that problems only get larger when ignored.

The gunslinger took a seat at a vacant computer terminal, examining the strange interface before him. Though it somewhat resembled the tech he was used to in his realm, he had a feeling using it would take some trial and error. The monitor looked familiar enough, though he did not notice any large 'tower' or something to that effect, that he was accustomed to. There was simply the rest of the desk, composed of a coal black material similar to plastic. Vincent was the first to admit that he was somewhat 'out of touch' when it came to more complex technology (50 years comatose does that to a person), but this seemed to be the closest he would get in the realm. He much preferred dusty tomes to the hum of electronics, but in this case efficiency outweighed familiarity. Shelke had more or less brought him up to speed on modern technology, her technopathy accelerating the process somewhat. After the welcome screen faded from the display, Vincent drummed his fingers over the desk, wondering where the rest of his computer was. As his hand touched the desk he felt a sharp pain his fingertips, a small spark jumping to the desk. The screen suddenly changed, a dialogue box appearing.

TACTILE DATA ENTRY CHOSEN. ACCEPT?

Vincent spent a few moments staring at the screen in confusion before glancing down at the now-illuminated Dvorak keyboard that appeared to now be etched into the desk. With a smirk, he struck a few keys and began his research.

The Prime slumped back in his chair, gazing up at the vaulted ceiling of the library dome. His mind was still clouded with confusion, though he at least now grasped the stakes of the Abyss. He would be without his weapons and spells, left only with the bare essentials and some mystery item. The ex-Turk had to admit that the thought of being thrown to the dogs with only his wits and a bit of luck excited him. He felt almost wrong for reveling in the thought of killing for the entertainment of others, but he reminded himself that this was a necessary evil if he were to return home and if his heart were not in it, he would surely fail. Vincent took a deep breath and exhaled. Though adrenaline was a powerful motivator, his need to return to his loved ones would keep him grounded. He could not risk succumb to bloodlust any more than he could attempt to practice pacifism. In the Abyss, it was quite literally kill or be killed.

In his years serving as a dog of the ShinRa corporation, Vincent had learned a thing or two about intelligence. Hours and hours of sparring, target practice and endurance training had honed his body and reflexes, though none of these were his most useful skill. Nothing could substitute for the ability to research and the acquisition of raw knowledge. Data was a renewable resource, one that could give an advantage to anyone who gathered enough. While Vincent was sure that many other contestants were thickening their calluses and bargaining to forge partnerships in an attempt to grant any edge on the Island, the ex-Turk acknowledged that the value of knowing one's enemy trumped all. In this case, he considered both the contestants and the Island itself his enemy. With proper preparation and strategy, the pale Prime would seek to carve out any advantage he possible; it could very well be what saves him from death and brings him closer to returning home.

As the hours ticked away in his little corner of the Danteverse, Vincent combed through the wealth of knowledge contained within the Verse's database. He reviewed highlights of past games, making mental notes of were past contestants had slipped up. Though he knew he would not be able to commit everything to memory, he attempted to cram what he could while he had the time. The island itself was in fact the simplest part of the equation. Barring Karl's intrusions, it was a normal deserted island that would become his home for the duration of the contest, with some important caveats. These were important to take note of, though Vincent focused primarily on the threats posed by the contestants. The pages he found were not exactly comprehensive, looking to be something more akin to autobiographical rosters than anything else. The ex-Turk found that, unsurprisingly, many of the names listed on this year's constantly updating roster were newcomers. Death had obviously prevented many, but not all, from returning. Those names that he found within both the annals of past competitions and this year's roster would certainly be the most dangerous. Vincent felt his confidence grow ever-so-slightly as he learned more of his opponents. At least, the ex-Turk hoped, he may be able to see the worst coming.