03-12-2016, 09:22 AM
Ronald was a mile or so behind him before the cyborg ran into anything of interest. His route took him to the bank of a small lava floe that bisected what was otherwise a seemingly commonplace stretch of barren, reddish soil.
Seventeen paused at the bank of the rivulet-sized barrier and smiled faintly. The last time he’d seen lava, he’d been locked into a swordfight with an old nemesis. While that confrontation hadn’t been the end of that particularly rivalry, it had been a watershed moment in the cyborg’s old life.
That’s when she and I were reunited…
Reaching behind his head, Seventeen drew the Power Sword and held it out in front of his face. His trip to the Underworld had set in moment a cascading series of events that led to heartache, fatherhood, reforged friendships, and ultimately a trio of untimely deaths.
It’d be the one in the middle that’d stuck, ushering Seventeen into the afterlife. From there, he’d spent a few years training under demigods and getting to watch as the world rolled by without him. For a while, that’d been pretty entertaining, but before too long, the itch to involve himself drew him back to the world of the living. After that, it was the horses and the dragon and oblivion once again.
“And now whatever the hell this place is,” the cyborg spoke aloud as he sheathed the sword and took a few steps backwards. With a running start, he cleared the rivulet of lava, but when he landed on the opposing bank, his thoughts were more on the fact that he should have been able to easily clear a body of water ten times as wide as the lava floe.
Ronald wasn’t lying… This place got me good.
How good would have to wait a little longer.
For now, Seventeen pressed forward in the direction of his merchant friend’s betrayer. If Ronald’s former partner was dragging his own cache of boxed salt, the cyborg had a genuine chance to catch up if he kept a decent pace.
The machine-hybrid knew he was close when he found the corpses amidst some scattered wooden shards and salt.
It wasn’t the corpses that unnerved him—the cyborg had seen and caused enough death in his day to be used to it—it was the identity of the victims.
Those are turtles… Anthropomorphic. Turtles.
He dropped into a crouch next to one of the bodies and rolled it onto its carapace to reveal a pair of comically oversized eyes widened in terror. The creature’s mouth hung open in a final scream, and given the lack of puncture wounds, it looked as if the deed had been done through some form of blunt-force trauma. A few yards away, two of the turtle’s friends were lying in similar states.
Sorry, guys. Seventeen frowned as he traced a small rut in the ground that bisected the crime scene. While it was erratic and occasionally ceased to exist, the broken line followed a straight path. He must be dragging it in something.
If Ronald’s ex-partner was dragging his stolen goods, the man was probably moving at a snail’s pace, unless he has some major muscle mass.
As the cyborg moved to stand, something exploded near his feet. While none of the fire caught hold of his clothing, the concussive force was more than enough to throw the wiry fighter, causing him to barrel sideways before stopping against one of the turtle corpses.
Through blurred vision and momentarily impacted hearing, Seventeen heard a distinct word thrown his way as he stumbled to a vertical position. “Killer!”
Another fireball came whirring through the air, and this time, the sphere smashed into his chest. Now adorned with a handful of tiny fires spreading across his shirt, the machine-hybrid found himself face-up on the ground with his senses still grossly impacted by the sudden assault.
“I didn’t do anything,” Seventeen groaned as he rolled onto his gut to smother the small flames. He felt the dry earth scratch against the exposed flesh of his chest and stomach. Need some spare shirts…
“You are surrounded by my fallen kin,” an awkwardly squeaking voice shouted as a whoosh of air predated another fireball. On this occasion, something akin to instinct kicked in, and the raven-haired warrior rolled hard to his left as the blast crashed against the ground. Although his movements were sluggish, he scrambled to his feet and looked to see that his assailant was a turtle in wizard’s vestments. Aside from a different colored shell, the creature was identical to the corpses that littered the ground around the cyborg.
“I’m trailing someone,” Seventeen shouted as he telegraphed the next fireball. Before another could make its way in his direction, he drew his sword and chucked it toward his attacker. “Check it. It’s clean.” The sight and sound of the weapon being tossed at him stopped the turtle from continuing his attack. “Your pals were beat to death. Probably with hammers or clubs or something. I’m following the guy… he left a trial,” the machine-hybrid gestured to the faint, broken line that led off toward the merchant-turned-betrayer-turned-reptile killer.
“You lie.”
Seventeen shook his head. “You think I just magically washed their blood off me?”
“It’s possible.”
Smart ass. The machine-hybrid didn’t know what the wizard turtle was truly capable of, and if he could avoid it, he’d rather not find out. “Then let me prove it. You can have the sword, and you can follow me to the killer. If you don’t like what you see or if you think I’m leading you into a trap, you can put a fireball in me without me being aware.”
For a few moments, Seventeen was certain that the wizard was just going to start lobbing fireballs again, but after a short deliberation, the turtle’s features softened just a little. The creature walked over to the sword and plucked it from the ground before using it to gesture off in the direction of the line. “March.”
“Try and keep up,” Seventeen grinned before breaking into a sprint toward his target.
Seventeen paused at the bank of the rivulet-sized barrier and smiled faintly. The last time he’d seen lava, he’d been locked into a swordfight with an old nemesis. While that confrontation hadn’t been the end of that particularly rivalry, it had been a watershed moment in the cyborg’s old life.
That’s when she and I were reunited…
Reaching behind his head, Seventeen drew the Power Sword and held it out in front of his face. His trip to the Underworld had set in moment a cascading series of events that led to heartache, fatherhood, reforged friendships, and ultimately a trio of untimely deaths.
It’d be the one in the middle that’d stuck, ushering Seventeen into the afterlife. From there, he’d spent a few years training under demigods and getting to watch as the world rolled by without him. For a while, that’d been pretty entertaining, but before too long, the itch to involve himself drew him back to the world of the living. After that, it was the horses and the dragon and oblivion once again.
“And now whatever the hell this place is,” the cyborg spoke aloud as he sheathed the sword and took a few steps backwards. With a running start, he cleared the rivulet of lava, but when he landed on the opposing bank, his thoughts were more on the fact that he should have been able to easily clear a body of water ten times as wide as the lava floe.
Ronald wasn’t lying… This place got me good.
How good would have to wait a little longer.
For now, Seventeen pressed forward in the direction of his merchant friend’s betrayer. If Ronald’s former partner was dragging his own cache of boxed salt, the cyborg had a genuine chance to catch up if he kept a decent pace.
***
The machine-hybrid knew he was close when he found the corpses amidst some scattered wooden shards and salt.
It wasn’t the corpses that unnerved him—the cyborg had seen and caused enough death in his day to be used to it—it was the identity of the victims.
Those are turtles… Anthropomorphic. Turtles.
He dropped into a crouch next to one of the bodies and rolled it onto its carapace to reveal a pair of comically oversized eyes widened in terror. The creature’s mouth hung open in a final scream, and given the lack of puncture wounds, it looked as if the deed had been done through some form of blunt-force trauma. A few yards away, two of the turtle’s friends were lying in similar states.
Sorry, guys. Seventeen frowned as he traced a small rut in the ground that bisected the crime scene. While it was erratic and occasionally ceased to exist, the broken line followed a straight path. He must be dragging it in something.
If Ronald’s ex-partner was dragging his stolen goods, the man was probably moving at a snail’s pace, unless he has some major muscle mass.
As the cyborg moved to stand, something exploded near his feet. While none of the fire caught hold of his clothing, the concussive force was more than enough to throw the wiry fighter, causing him to barrel sideways before stopping against one of the turtle corpses.
Through blurred vision and momentarily impacted hearing, Seventeen heard a distinct word thrown his way as he stumbled to a vertical position. “Killer!”
Another fireball came whirring through the air, and this time, the sphere smashed into his chest. Now adorned with a handful of tiny fires spreading across his shirt, the machine-hybrid found himself face-up on the ground with his senses still grossly impacted by the sudden assault.
“I didn’t do anything,” Seventeen groaned as he rolled onto his gut to smother the small flames. He felt the dry earth scratch against the exposed flesh of his chest and stomach. Need some spare shirts…
“You are surrounded by my fallen kin,” an awkwardly squeaking voice shouted as a whoosh of air predated another fireball. On this occasion, something akin to instinct kicked in, and the raven-haired warrior rolled hard to his left as the blast crashed against the ground. Although his movements were sluggish, he scrambled to his feet and looked to see that his assailant was a turtle in wizard’s vestments. Aside from a different colored shell, the creature was identical to the corpses that littered the ground around the cyborg.
“I’m trailing someone,” Seventeen shouted as he telegraphed the next fireball. Before another could make its way in his direction, he drew his sword and chucked it toward his attacker. “Check it. It’s clean.” The sight and sound of the weapon being tossed at him stopped the turtle from continuing his attack. “Your pals were beat to death. Probably with hammers or clubs or something. I’m following the guy… he left a trial,” the machine-hybrid gestured to the faint, broken line that led off toward the merchant-turned-betrayer-turned-reptile killer.
“You lie.”
Seventeen shook his head. “You think I just magically washed their blood off me?”
“It’s possible.”
Smart ass. The machine-hybrid didn’t know what the wizard turtle was truly capable of, and if he could avoid it, he’d rather not find out. “Then let me prove it. You can have the sword, and you can follow me to the killer. If you don’t like what you see or if you think I’m leading you into a trap, you can put a fireball in me without me being aware.”
For a few moments, Seventeen was certain that the wizard was just going to start lobbing fireballs again, but after a short deliberation, the turtle’s features softened just a little. The creature walked over to the sword and plucked it from the ground before using it to gesture off in the direction of the line. “March.”
“Try and keep up,” Seventeen grinned before breaking into a sprint toward his target.
![[Image: 17.jpg]](http://omniverse-rpg.com/images/17.jpg)