06-20-2018, 08:50 PM
”It’s been two days. How do you feel?” Alex dared to ask, having witnessed the devastation that was wrought via Cole’s eyes. Entire populaces were wiped out, islands lost, and fleets sunk, lost to the depths. It’s been two days since the invasion by the enigmatic organization known as Nebula.
Cole didn’t offer an answer, instead continuing to look out to the horizon at the fore of the Imperial ship, a simple twin-masted carrack with billowing white, triangular sails, the ocean water spraying across the front as it crashed through the waves. The salt-tinged wind blew softly behind him as the ship rocked about, sailing on without a care as sailors hustled to and fro attending to sail, cannon, and cargo.
He stood there, paying little heed to it all. The captain long since gave up on telling him to remain inside like the other passengers, the refugees that they had managed to recover. The ones they all had barely managed to save.
”Typical heroism, deriding yourself for failure outside of your power to avoid. I see my grandchild hasn’t grown up at all.” Fumetsu chided.
“Shut up.” Cole muttered, his voice washed out as the ship broke through another wave and heaved upward, then downward, crashing into the water as it sprayed upward.
”Your failure was being weak, not for some lack of initiative or intellect, much as you poorly rank in both. Had you relied on my lessons more, you would have fared better.” Fumetsu continued in his typical condescension.
“Shut up!” Cole shouted, bringing the sailors’ attention to him. Cole glanced back at them, reflexively grasping the empty sleeve of his jacket that was flapping in the wind. His missing arm ached again. So annoying…
Cole turned back to look ahead, letting go of the stub of an arm he had left and instead reaching into his pocket to grab the communicator he recently made. A phone, one of the newer models from his world, with a large, thin rectangular shape dominated exclusively by a blank, black screen. It was rather simple gadget to make using Omnilium, but according to the captain and the other officers he talked to while helping with the recovery efforts, it was all too important to have in this world.
Not that he knew what to do with it. It’s not like he remembered to note down the numbers of the other Liberators he parted ways with before.
He stared at the blank screen, as if waiting for something to happen. For answers, questions, he didn’t know. He didn’t know what to do in this world beyond fight machines and corrupted humans, like he used to always do, though usually with two arms rather than one.
Of course, he wasn’t exactly expecting it to light up at that thought and start ringing loudly, as it did, and in his surprise, he almost fumbled it into the water below. He bounced it from one knee, to the other, and then caught it in his hand again in a hurry, breathing a sigh of relief once he got hold of it again.
He didn’t even think to look at who it was that managed to find his number before answering.
“Hello?”
Cole didn’t offer an answer, instead continuing to look out to the horizon at the fore of the Imperial ship, a simple twin-masted carrack with billowing white, triangular sails, the ocean water spraying across the front as it crashed through the waves. The salt-tinged wind blew softly behind him as the ship rocked about, sailing on without a care as sailors hustled to and fro attending to sail, cannon, and cargo.
He stood there, paying little heed to it all. The captain long since gave up on telling him to remain inside like the other passengers, the refugees that they had managed to recover. The ones they all had barely managed to save.
”Typical heroism, deriding yourself for failure outside of your power to avoid. I see my grandchild hasn’t grown up at all.” Fumetsu chided.
“Shut up.” Cole muttered, his voice washed out as the ship broke through another wave and heaved upward, then downward, crashing into the water as it sprayed upward.
”Your failure was being weak, not for some lack of initiative or intellect, much as you poorly rank in both. Had you relied on my lessons more, you would have fared better.” Fumetsu continued in his typical condescension.
“Shut up!” Cole shouted, bringing the sailors’ attention to him. Cole glanced back at them, reflexively grasping the empty sleeve of his jacket that was flapping in the wind. His missing arm ached again. So annoying…
Cole turned back to look ahead, letting go of the stub of an arm he had left and instead reaching into his pocket to grab the communicator he recently made. A phone, one of the newer models from his world, with a large, thin rectangular shape dominated exclusively by a blank, black screen. It was rather simple gadget to make using Omnilium, but according to the captain and the other officers he talked to while helping with the recovery efforts, it was all too important to have in this world.
Not that he knew what to do with it. It’s not like he remembered to note down the numbers of the other Liberators he parted ways with before.
He stared at the blank screen, as if waiting for something to happen. For answers, questions, he didn’t know. He didn’t know what to do in this world beyond fight machines and corrupted humans, like he used to always do, though usually with two arms rather than one.
Of course, he wasn’t exactly expecting it to light up at that thought and start ringing loudly, as it did, and in his surprise, he almost fumbled it into the water below. He bounced it from one knee, to the other, and then caught it in his hand again in a hurry, breathing a sigh of relief once he got hold of it again.
He didn’t even think to look at who it was that managed to find his number before answering.
“Hello?”
![[Image: 1403536693-tumblr-mnt768ec7u1qcjxmlo2-r1-500.gif]](http://image.noelshack.com/fichiers/2014/26/1403536693-tumblr-mnt768ec7u1qcjxmlo2-r1-500.gif)