12-24-2015, 08:27 AM
You are a man of many assumptions, Gildarts Clive.
Nealaphh continued to hang in the air, listless, even as the howling gale which embraced Gildarts' body gently tugged and nudged at what had once been Nealaphh's arms and legs. Both Primes stared at each other, a pair of bloody visages bridged by mutual scorn. With measured motions, Nealaphh moved its remaining functional hand up to the side of its face and dabbed a smear of acid green vitriol onto its fingertips. It stared at the gruesome ichor in apparent curiosity before turning its attention back to the wizard before it. The man had become feral. Unhindered by any reservations for his destructive potential, and fueled by a scurrying mental fracass of regret and existential confusion, the God-Mind could now witness this human in his most raw state of being.
And it was delicious.
A thrumming mental chuckle echoed across the psionic gulf between their minds, resonating with resolute satisfaction. The God-Mind was about to share some more choice words when it noticed a swelling sensation within its arbitrary corpus. Ah, so the wizard had a glimmer of trickery within him after all. Gently, and with all the hurry of a slug, Nealaphh pulled this implanted force out of its body and cast it to the side, where it exploded in a shower of scree and pebbles. It was nearly imperceptible, but Nealaphh was able detect but a slight twitch of indignation as it disposed of the delayed attack.
Dear Gildarts, I believe we are far beyond the point of gimmicks. Here you stand before me, bloodied and honest. Your natural state of being.
There came a pause, and then Gildarts could feel a potency greater than his tenebrous opponent had yet summoned in this dire skirmish. A spotlight glared over the wizard's beaten frame as the Enigma's eyes flared with a brilliance greater than the midday sun. Again the God-Mind's accursed voice came, but in a timbre more primal and grave than before.
You have shown your true self to me. Allow me to indulge you in kind.
The wizard immediately flung all the power he had left to muster into his Crash magic, a pillar of white-hot ferocity enveloping Nealaphh’s broken body. Indeed, the terrible wrath of Gildarts sent rivulets of scintillating black blood spraying in every direction from the shadow.
It was no use. The process had already been set in motion. Force. That was all the sensation could be described as. Nealaphh's body shrank away into nothingness, replaced by a throbbing vortex of purest black. The rain, the stones, the dirt, Gildarts himself was bidden into this yawning chasm in time and space with interminable persistence. This was no mere conjuration of the gravity magic so familiar to the S-Class Mage; for all intents and purposes, the Singularity that was the God-Mind was as natural and potent as the wind and rain.
Even with his unchained might, there was no escaping the shadow’s pull. Clinging to anything and everything he could as he was steadily drawn inwards, Gildarts howled in defiance. Resistance could only last so long. As his grip slipped on the last hand hold available, Gildarts’ passage into the shuddering depths of the event horizon. A scream was cut short.
What struck Gildarts the most was the tranquility of the confines of the black hole. Perfect darkness was the only thing that could be perceived with...whatever it was that Gildarts had to perceive with within this strange place. There was certainly no sound, for he has no ears, and neither was there pain, for he did not have skin. It was a nearly perfect disassembly, ironic to the point that Gildarts may have either chuckled or roared if he had possessed a mouth.
...and yet, there was something more than just the darkness in this place. A distant, barely audible mantra that repeated itself every few seconds.
There is a white point in space. I can move relative to it.
If I remove the point, Nothing remains, but I can still move relative to my knowledge of that point.
When there is Nothing, I can perceive anything, for when only Nothing remains, it becomes everything.
The Void is perfection.
The next thing Gildarts was aware of was motion. Violent and explosive. He was airborne, and then, abruptly not so. Whatever had happened to him within that mysterious place now wracked his body with pain that was so savage, it demanded absolute stillness. Regardless, Gildarts defied his body’s screeching and inclined his head slightly. Just enough to see Nealaphh lying face down in the cold mud.
Nealaphh knew that it was not dead, everything else was uncertain. The only thought that it could maintain was far too human for its liking.
The rain felt nice.
Nealaphh continued to hang in the air, listless, even as the howling gale which embraced Gildarts' body gently tugged and nudged at what had once been Nealaphh's arms and legs. Both Primes stared at each other, a pair of bloody visages bridged by mutual scorn. With measured motions, Nealaphh moved its remaining functional hand up to the side of its face and dabbed a smear of acid green vitriol onto its fingertips. It stared at the gruesome ichor in apparent curiosity before turning its attention back to the wizard before it. The man had become feral. Unhindered by any reservations for his destructive potential, and fueled by a scurrying mental fracass of regret and existential confusion, the God-Mind could now witness this human in his most raw state of being.
And it was delicious.
A thrumming mental chuckle echoed across the psionic gulf between their minds, resonating with resolute satisfaction. The God-Mind was about to share some more choice words when it noticed a swelling sensation within its arbitrary corpus. Ah, so the wizard had a glimmer of trickery within him after all. Gently, and with all the hurry of a slug, Nealaphh pulled this implanted force out of its body and cast it to the side, where it exploded in a shower of scree and pebbles. It was nearly imperceptible, but Nealaphh was able detect but a slight twitch of indignation as it disposed of the delayed attack.
Dear Gildarts, I believe we are far beyond the point of gimmicks. Here you stand before me, bloodied and honest. Your natural state of being.
There came a pause, and then Gildarts could feel a potency greater than his tenebrous opponent had yet summoned in this dire skirmish. A spotlight glared over the wizard's beaten frame as the Enigma's eyes flared with a brilliance greater than the midday sun. Again the God-Mind's accursed voice came, but in a timbre more primal and grave than before.
You have shown your true self to me. Allow me to indulge you in kind.
The wizard immediately flung all the power he had left to muster into his Crash magic, a pillar of white-hot ferocity enveloping Nealaphh’s broken body. Indeed, the terrible wrath of Gildarts sent rivulets of scintillating black blood spraying in every direction from the shadow.
It was no use. The process had already been set in motion. Force. That was all the sensation could be described as. Nealaphh's body shrank away into nothingness, replaced by a throbbing vortex of purest black. The rain, the stones, the dirt, Gildarts himself was bidden into this yawning chasm in time and space with interminable persistence. This was no mere conjuration of the gravity magic so familiar to the S-Class Mage; for all intents and purposes, the Singularity that was the God-Mind was as natural and potent as the wind and rain.
Even with his unchained might, there was no escaping the shadow’s pull. Clinging to anything and everything he could as he was steadily drawn inwards, Gildarts howled in defiance. Resistance could only last so long. As his grip slipped on the last hand hold available, Gildarts’ passage into the shuddering depths of the event horizon. A scream was cut short.
What struck Gildarts the most was the tranquility of the confines of the black hole. Perfect darkness was the only thing that could be perceived with...whatever it was that Gildarts had to perceive with within this strange place. There was certainly no sound, for he has no ears, and neither was there pain, for he did not have skin. It was a nearly perfect disassembly, ironic to the point that Gildarts may have either chuckled or roared if he had possessed a mouth.
...and yet, there was something more than just the darkness in this place. A distant, barely audible mantra that repeated itself every few seconds.
There is a white point in space. I can move relative to it.
If I remove the point, Nothing remains, but I can still move relative to my knowledge of that point.
When there is Nothing, I can perceive anything, for when only Nothing remains, it becomes everything.
The Void is perfection.
The next thing Gildarts was aware of was motion. Violent and explosive. He was airborne, and then, abruptly not so. Whatever had happened to him within that mysterious place now wracked his body with pain that was so savage, it demanded absolute stillness. Regardless, Gildarts defied his body’s screeching and inclined his head slightly. Just enough to see Nealaphh lying face down in the cold mud.
Nealaphh knew that it was not dead, everything else was uncertain. The only thought that it could maintain was far too human for its liking.
The rain felt nice.
Quote:Used Relativity Shift -1 SP
Used Black Hole -2 SP
Gildarts used Crash!
And, we dream of home I dream of life out of here Their dreams are small My dreams don't know fear I got my heart full of hope I will change everything No matter what I'm told How impossible it seems We did it before And we'll do it again We're indestructible Even when we're tired And we've been here before Just you and I
Don't try to rescue me I don't need to be rescued
Don't try to rescue me I don't need to be rescued