(Pre-Show) The Library

[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.