10-06-2017, 01:07 PM
Quote:Kelly - arriving late
In a small emerald lagoon, nestled at the base of a waterfall which hissed thunderously down a vine-shrouded rock-face deep in the Green, Kelly bathed. His efforts in securing the safety of the 'verse against Nebula's influence had left him so caked with mud, sweat and gore that merely stepping into the water had caused a billowing cloud of oily muck to spread across the formerly pristine jungle pool. Still, after half-an-hour spent alternately scrubbing himself beneath the pounding waterfall and telekineticaly scouring his many small wounds in the shallows, the weary avatar of ragged filth gradually reverted to his former mode of long hair and lean muscle.
As he dressed himself by the water's edge, donning summoned duplicates of his ruined clothes, he browsed a constellation of holographic dataverse-windows, psychically manipulating his wrist-com with a newfound deftness, product of his recently expanded consciousness. By the time the traveler was fully clothed, a fresh blue tunic and crisp black denim refreshingly clean against his skin, hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, he'd caught up on the current state of affairs.
After only brief deliberation, he concluded he needed to leave immediately. While the news was mostly predictable - Nebula's influence in the Vasty Deep escalating largely unchecked into full-scale war, continued chaos in the lower Tiers of Coruscant, the annual bloodsport Bread and Circuses of Dante's abyss - there had been unexpected developments; The Omniverse, as usual, had thrown him a curve-ball.
Tearen Wover.
Nealapph.
Kelly had read about the Shadow during his initial, frantic data-binge, desperately educating himself in the data-core of Fort AMBR on his very first day in the Omniverse: Nealapph, the Prime who orchestrated the downfall of Volvagia, the nearly-invincible former ruler of the Ashen Steppes; Nealapph, the founder of the Institute and author of the Monotruth, a book which was, if Kelly was any judge, a remarkable achievement in psychological warfare, expanding on the grandest traditions of personality-cults throughout ten-dimensional reality.
Nealapph, who had banished himself to the Underverse on the cusp of his greatest triumph - and now had come back with a new form, a new name, and a new message, confirming one of Kelly's most horrible suspicions.
The door swings both ways. The Underverse isn't an inescapable trap - which probably means Diablo can leave any time he wants to.
Kelly hefted his staff, a recently summoned copy of the one he'd lost in Nebula Space, and studied the treeline, finding his bearings. A breeze rustled the canopy, momentarily replacing the scent of running water with the distant smell of tropical flowers.
After his initial academic interest, all those months ago, the traveler had dismissed the Enigma as a competent strategist and likely demagogue who, while undoubtedly skilled and dangerous, was off the board pending further information. Kelly had barely spared him a second thought since. Now, however, watching the videos of Nealapph's participation in Dante's Abyss, witnessing his rebranding of himself as Tearen Wover, and more importantly, hearing his new message...
I need to speak with him. Leaving aside the fact that this new ethos he's promoting seems to hew quite closely to my own personal philosophy, and the likely value of his skills and methods, he's the only publicly known Prime who's been to the Underverse and returned. He has firsthand knowledge of Diablo's realm; That's an invaluable commodity, and an opportunity I can't pass up. The Vasty Deep will have to take care of itself for a while.
Besides - he's apparently right here in this verse. That sort of convenience deserves to be appreciated. Hopefully I'm not too late...
The reason for his latter concern was simple: A pillar of light, frequently mentioned in various recent new-items regarding the Green currently failed to thunder silently into the sky, lighting the way for miles around to all who might come seeking knowledge.
A man who styles himself an Enigma makes public, only slightly cryptic references to being easy to find in the vicinity of Ambrosia; A massive green pillar of light appears near Ambrosia. Hopefully it really is exactly that obvious.
Fortunately, the Dataverse had a long memory - numerous maps existed which showed the beacon's approximate location, though many seemed to have failed to make the connection to its purpose.
Kelly focused his mind, closing himself to his higher perceptions, blocking out the scents of the forest, the sounds of falling water and distant birdsong, and recalled in eidetic detail the route he'd taken to reach this secluded spot. Along the corridors of recent memory he retraced his steps, counting paces and distance, from the Nexus gate to Nebula's stronghold to this pleasant little grotto, and mentally superimposed the route on a Dataverse map of the Tangled Green, orienting it relative to the former site of what he suspected was Tearen Wover's beacon.
"And that means," he muttered, pointing into the dense foliage with his staff, "I need to go that way."
***
The journey was practically relaxing in its simplicity. Kelly traveled rapidly through the canopy, leaping confidently from branch to branch. He was aware of everything around him, every leaf and twig; The pulsing heat and electric auras of birds and mammalian bodies flickered alien scents and vivid hues across the sphere of his expanded awareness; the subtle murmurs of every animalistic mind whispered a back-beat of simple thought-concepts as he passed.
After what seemed like a very short time spent simply moving and existing, plots and plans began turning over in the back of Kelly's head as some distant part of him considered what would need to be done in the coming weeks in order to further his broad strategic aims: The plan for Coruscant was largely unchanged, though after being gone for so long he imagined that his corporate alias would have to make something of a splash upon his return if it was to maintain its utility. His methodology for infiltrating the criminal fraternity would need to be re-evaluated - and a stop in Darkshire to reaffirm his ties to the garrison there probably wouldn't be amiss....
Leaves whispered past his face. A startled macaw flapped frantically as his boots struck its perch, and the psychic sprang forward, sailing across a thirty-foot gulf settle on a branch no more than eight inches wide. Then he was off again, ducking and jumping, twisting and swinging through the tops of the trees.
Kelly felt his destination before he saw it: The weight of a Mind, glinting with the light-devouring blackness and functional elegance of an engine carved from obsidian, flickering impossible anti-color shadows in the aether as it squatted low on the horizon. A small gathering of other brains were scattered around its vicinity, some of them sturdy, some complex, some vacuous, some diligent, one mirthful and another seething with barely-contained rage.
Excellent. He's still here. And it looks like I'm not the only interested party.
After that, it didn't take the traveler long to reach the edge of the clearing where the Enigma had elected to conduct his seminar. Crouching in the treetops, the psychic studied the area, taking note of the classically-inspired architecture - the abundant fountains, the elaborately carved granite gazebo and the airy bunkhouse.
And there was the man himself. Tearen Wover stood, green-eyed, dark and at-his-ease within the Gazebo. He was talking with... a little girl? It took Kelly a moment to place her, images from fort AMBR's files on Ambrosia flickering across his mind's eye.
Is that Guu? Odd. I can't sense her. Though I suppose that's in keeping with her reputation.
...Hm.
They're both notoriously powerful Primes. One of them is invisible to my higher perceptions and the other one's mind is overtly potent. It's likely at least one of them already knows I'm here, and if so, there's little point in continuing to skulk. Besides, I did come here to talk.
I suppose I may as well introduce myself.
With that in mind, Kelly dropped out of the canopy, sinking into a low crouch as he absorbed the impact with his knees. A puff of chlorophyll and rich earth tickled his nose, rising from the broken ferns beneath his boots. Staff and thoughts in hand, the traveler rose quickly, smiled slightly, and strode casually towards the gazebo.