Secondary Saga- Phase 7 "Kicking Ass and Taking Names"

[Storyteller]

The group of survivors didn't know what to expect as they gathered their courage and plunged straight into the portal's shimmering surface. But whatever it was that some of them had anticipated as they allowed the gateway's mystical energies to wash over them, it certainly wasn't what ultimately greeted them on the other side.

Aside from the portal behind them, the scene of the thick jungle foliage they had left behind still framed within it, there was nothing but sleek darkness stretching out as far as the eye could see. Cold, inhuman darkness, thirsting to conquer any light that penetrated the lair of shadows. Those who traversed it were immediately reminded of the white expanses of the Nexus — but even the center of the Omniverse, with its vast stretches of nothing, contained landmarks which helped travelers navigate their way to their destination. The pocket of space in which the motley crew found itself in, however, was empty....Or at least appeared so at first glance. The only thing that provided any indication as to where they they had to go were the glowing white lines on the ground — not that they could really distinguish between the land and sky in such pitch blackness — which stretched into various directions, though even they only lasted a few feet before they disappeared into the shadows.

Now of clear mind and unyielding spirit, Christa spearheaded the group's advance into the literal void. But for all her focus and confidence, the leader was no less flummoxed by the situation that they now faced. Her companions were mostly wrapped in silence — some were still awe-struck by the scene before them while others thought about their encounter with the ghastly 'Katia' mere minutes ago. Yet, all of them had the same question lingering in their mind, one that the apparition chose not to address....one that it left Christa to answer. The blonde rebel was aware of this — she could see the curiosity shining, if not outright burning, in their eyes. Whether knowingly or not, she found herself averting their gazes, attempting to focus on the task at hand.

Without turning around, the female soldier spoke up: "Top Man, do you have a reading of this area's layout?"

The robot master had been way ahead of her, checking his data as soon as they passed through the entryway. But it didn't take long for the android to shake his head in response: "...No can do. Every time it finishes buffering and the map appears, it restarts anew and shows a completely different map." Much to the Dataverse celebrity's chagrin, the situation was even worse than in the swamp. Not only was the navigational program completely dysfunctional, even his stream and comment feed were only working with significant connection delays. The responses from his viewers were predictable, but he didn't even have the 'luxury' of reading most of their bile and vitriol they were throwing at him. The massive influx of comments only appeared in random and sudden bursts due to the lag, leaving him little time to read any of it even if he were inclined to do so. "Either the app is busted....."

"....Or the actual physical area keeps changing," Richtoffen added, a conclusion that would have seemed ridiculous in the past. The doctor grimaced, expressing his vexation by letting his native language slip: "Verdammt! Was sollen wir denn jetzt machen, wie ein kopfloses Hühner herumlaufen?!"

"Now, now, let's not lose our heads here," Abner interjected, trying to keep the situation under control. Rummaging through his pocket, he brought out his new lighter and opened it with an audible click. After a few flickers, he finally managed to light the fuse. Yet, contrary to what he had anticipated, the fire he started didn't illuminate the area around them — in fact, it didn't seem to project any sort of light, almost as if the small flame existed in a vacuum. The Captain scrunched his forehead in bemusement: "...Well, that's something." This prompted Top Man to try out his lights, but they did nothing to penetrate the darkness ahead of them either.

"A leap of faith, huh?" Isaac commented, his blue eyes focused on the point where the lines on the surface, or at least what they thought was the surface, gradually paled into nothingness. The veteran wasn't the least bit intimidated by the notion of traversing the area blindly — he had absolutely nothing to lose. Captain Crow, meanwhile, shook his head. As an experienced sailor, he knew that sailing into unknown waters without the help of any instruments was foolhardy. But they had little choice and the pirate certainly wasn't planning on turning around and crossing the wetland that had ravenously consumed some of their comrades again.

The rest of them remained silent, too caught up in their own swirling thoughts. Prodded by her heartache again, Klaud barely paid any attention to the conversation that was going on. The heartbroken general was flanked on both sides by Lyra and Raw Onion, both of which were trying to support and comfort her as best as they could. Clayton and Grobdum continued to throw suspicious and hostile glances at one another, their hands firmly on their weapons. Subtle cues such as an eyebrow raise, a hardened glance over, or a crisply drawn scowl upon their lips, kept both warriors on their toes. Meanwhile, Pinocchio was caught up between feeling relieved that he survived the swamp and feeling slightly intimidated by the blackness ahead.

Seeing as how they weren't going to get anywhere by just standing there, Christa addressed her comrades: "Whatever the case, it's too late to turn back now. We'll just have to risk it. Let's go. And above all else, let’s stick together." With those words, she picked one of the glowing diagonal -but now perpendicular- lines to follow and proceeded in that direction. Some of the others exchanged nervous glances, but followed suit nonetheless. If nothing else, their leader was correct in that they had long passed the point of no return. Besides, this was it... They were on Omni's very real doorstep. Somewhere in the void, beyond what their eyes could perceive, and beyond what their thoughts could fathom, lay their final destination.

***

It didn't take long for the motley crew to get lost but that wasn't the only problem they faced. The group quickly came to discover that its monochrome appearance wasn't the sole unique feature of that place. At seemingly random spots, spacetime did not function the way they were accustomed to. Klaud stepped into a sudden gap that none of them could have seen, her fall only prevented by the quick intervention from others. Grobdum 'fell' upwards onto the 'ceiling' — the shaman quickly picked himself up and began jumping and shouting out of bewilderment, unable to understand why everyone was suddenly upside down. And Top Man had to politely request that people not moonwalk into him on more than one occasion.

Though it didn't intentionally wear down their spirit like the Swamp of Sorrows, the Void's seemingly chaotic and random nature and the inability to distinguish their environment still managed to unnerve them. Clayton in particular was at the absolute end of his patience, quietly walking onward as he resisted the urge to gnash his own teeth out of frustration. After months of fruitless searching, that bloody swamp and now this, he had simply had enough. He was tired of that place, tired of the journey, tired and utterly enervated by the fools and nitwits he had to keep enduring. Not only did it wear his patience, but it also wore at his conscience. It was taking him all his willpower not to put a bullet in a nearby person's head, especially since that 'orc man thing' kept staring at him, observing his every move. As itchy as his trigger finger was, he needed them... At least for a little while longer.

...

Having completely lost any sense of time, the secondaries remained ticking along for what seemed like hours. Fortunately for them, the lines they followed didn't disappear after a few feet like they had originally thought and those glowing stripes continued to help guide them through the darkness. After some time, the group eventually stumbled upon an area of the space that wasn't as empty.

Stretching before them was a large field of various physical objects — stone statues, bronze tools, grandfather clocks, steel cabinets, energy reactors, enchanted lights and much more, all swishing and swirling in the air. Their size, their function, their construction, all of it was entirely arbitrary and their presence had no rhyme or reason to it. It was as though some entity had traveled across countless worlds, took possession of whatever it could find and used the pocket of space as its own private stash. The way the items were placed was even more random than their nature — some stood or lied normally while others were attached to invisible walls or even floated in mid-air. A picture frame -nailed into nothingness- lingered a little too close to Christa’s nose. With some inspection, she would notice the face of a little girl with a shining smile facing right at her. Suspiciously, the leader’s eyes narrowed, as though she were tipped off by an entity more powerful than fate, and a stirring doubt swilled within her, stronger than she could control.

But as bizarre and outlandish as the environment was, there was something else that ended up quickly drawing their attention. Hovering in place in the midst of the chaotic mess was a large, luminescent creature, a being of pure white luminescence. Bird-like in shape, its small body was dwarfed by its massive wingspan, which possessed an unusual tree branch appearance. Though it had what appeared to be a claw-shaped mouth, whether it possessed any other details was impossible to discern — its radiance was too intense.

Awestricken by the mere sight of it, the group hesitantly waded through the field and came closer to the unknown entity. But the unnatural being didn't address them or react in any way — it didn't even acknowledge their existence. It merely continued to levitate in complete stillness, fluttering in its holy grace, and continuing to shine in all its glory.

Finding themselves in an unusual conundrum, the group exchanged hushed whispers, discussing how to proceed. Some thought that they should attempt to address it while others thought it wise to just avoid it. But whatever ideas they had, they never got the chance to reach a consensus, for a member of the group decided to act on his own initiative.

As he ignored the chatter of his companions, Clayton took a step or two closer to the creature. Grinning widely, he thought to himself how this horrid journey might have been worth it after all. If he could claim possession of such a magnificent specimen, the rewards he would reap would be great indeed. There was only a moment or two during which he hesitated to raise his firearm, wondering if he was being a bit too careless about this, wondering if he should continue to feign care and caution. But after such a wretched trek, he was fed up with all of it, both his insufferable 'comrades' and the act he was putting up. Clayton was without compromise. He didn't care anymore....NO ONE was going to get in the way of his prize. The group scrambled around, softly bickering, others pointing, and Top Man continued to try and film it all, only to find the feed of his camera had stopped working.

As the hunter aimed his rifle, Christa caught sight of his reckless actions. Alarmed by his intentions, she shouted: "Wait....Clayton, STOP!" But even if Clayton had cared even the slightest bit about her commands at that moment, it was already too late. A single shot rang out in the darkness, startling the rest of the group. A swished lunge motion and her fair fell as the reality dawned on her. It had been too late.

The bullet hit its mark.... And bounced harmlessly off of a force-field barrier, bright orange hexagonal ripples spreading out from the point where the projectile hit. As the hunter stared in disbelief at his apparent failure, Christa delivered a steamrolling punch into Clayton’s jaw. He was still stupefied by his failure and his body could only swing with reaction to her hardened fist. In the time Christa had taken to sucker punch her favorite hunter, the massive creature slowly shifted, turning around its own axis to face them. Power emanated from its gait, and its powerful stance would send a shrill coil of fear into Christa, as she shook out the pang of pain from her fist. The group, terrified by the prospect of having to face this mysterious -albeit almighty- being, drew out their own weapons, prepared to defend themselves, and ready to put up one hell of a fight.

In a moment, Christa suddenly realized that she now stared at one of Omni’s rumored angels.

Without warning, the secondaries were showered by a beam of yellow light, utterly overwhelming their senses. Screams of terror and agony flooded the void as the group collectively felt something, or someone, penetrating and tearing through their minds, devouring all their knowledge and memories — even those lying within the deepest, darkest depths. As they continued to resist in vain, their bodies contorted in unnatural ways, gruesome crackling accompanying the twisting and turning of their bones. The non-organic Pinocchio and Top Man were no less affected — as their minds went blank, their appendages began to rapidly rotate, almost as if someone was trying to unscrew all of their individual parts. As the star robot tried to screen and analyze the impossible, a disorderly mass of data and images rapidly flooded his imagery receptors as this mental assault transpired.

A few flickers of light, and the vibrance expired. Like a flashbang, everyone was left in a daze. Ears rang, minds jolted, and memories disturbed.

Christa came to and had found herself splat against the ‘floor’ of the Void. The secondary took a breath, as she tried to recover from it all. And looked up only to seem the madness incur on her companions.

And the creature still remained.

[spoiler]

Hey my favorite secondaries! Time to give you the run down for OOC clarification!!!!


Affected parties: Raw Onion
Abner
Grobdum
Isaac
Lyra
Pinocchio

YOU’RE ALL THE CHOSEN ONES!

Well, that, and you’ve been mind controlled by an angel. Guess you pissed off the wrong deity! But some of the consequences your character will endure are: insanity, hostility, hallucinations, illusions. The works of any brain / memory alterations you see fit.

What’ll happen you say?

Each of the affected party members is individually fighting against a battle in their minds. So, there isn’t a ‘team up’ going on. However, the effected members WILL be trying to harm the rest of the group. You may have moments of clarity and resistance in your struggle.

NOT CHOSEN! That’s us - the rest -
Our job is to defend ourselves, or find some way to stop the others without killing them, though Clayton will probably go one shot - one kill, mode. Try your best to convince your friends, or, if you can, save them.

You may attempt to attack the angel, but any such attempt will be deflected by its force field. The angel itself will not attack anyone, it will remain still and continue to mentally manipulate the mind controlled members of the group.

THE BEST PART: (YES I WAS SAVING THE BEST FOR LAST) - A FREE BONUS

You can use the miscellaneous objects of the Void as fodder/improv stuff. I know I will be. Most interesting object gets a cool item, which can fodder, or I may just add it to your overall score as a bonus!

SUPER IMPORTANT READIN'

CAUTION: Your character MAY die this round, so give it your best shot! The deadline is Thursday midnight PDT.

As always, have fun everyone! Write the best you can, make your friends smile, and most of all, KICK ASS.

Thank you everyone!

GIL ;D

[/spoiler]

[Yu Kanda]

Grief , an overwhelming emotion on its own but strengthened with the help of dark and empty void she was in. Shortly after they arrived Klaud noticed a vile laying on the floor. She picked it up and looked at the liquid substance which it contained. Before anyone else noticed it she quickly hid it within her exorcist uniform. If it is laying around in a place like this it must be something of value and importance.

The general remained quiet during their long walk within the emptiness. She did not want to talk to anyone, her thoughts kept her busy. To others she might have seemed lost, an empty gaze within her eyes. But behind those eyes her mind was putting everything together, losing Jan, Christa's sister, finding Omni, threats from within their own ranks, especially Clayton. Klaud was giving every thought and emotion a place within herself.

Everything they worked for, everything they accomplished, everyone they lost brought them to this place. Granted it was the most strange place she's ever encountered, it was still the Path to Omni and to the people she loves.

The longer the group was walking forward the stranger this place became, gravity shifted , some of them were walking backwards, even their speech was affected. Pinocchio turn towards Raw Union and Klaud had to listen closely only to hear the gibberish words that he produced.

'Yaw thgir eth gnoing era ew erus uoy era ?'

He was obviously trying to ask the magical creature something, but his words did not make any sense. Raw union only met his question with a very confused look , not quite sure what to make of it all. Carefully Klaud turned her attention towards Lyra, the young girl was silent as well. She has been through allot as well. It was very admirable how far she managed to come , and even though friends and loved ones were lost, there was still hope. Once they found Omni everything would be alright, If they ever reached him.

Time passed, or so they thought. No one knew for sure how long they were wandering within this empty dark void. The longer they marched on, the stranger the place became. Above and in front of them were floating objects filling the empty space. Klaud looked through them and only recognized half of the things present within this phenomenon. Curiously she kept looking up.

It seems that this quest had yet another obstacle in stored for the group as before them floated an impressive entity made out of almost pure light. It was magnificent, beautiful and it seemed at rest. Everything would've been alright if the group would have walked by peacefully, yet Clayton had different plans and set forth another disaster.

A bright light appeared, blinding Klaud. She quickly covered her eyes with her hands. Unfortunately, whatever the being did to her it succeeded. Her head felt as if it was exploding, memories flashing by both known and unknown to her. The pain in her head was as if someone was slowly pushing a battleaxe through the middle. She tried to scream, filled her lungs with air and opened her mouth. But nothing happened. Grabbing her head she fell down on her knees, before losing conciseness completely.

***

Everything is dark, a faint noise of clashing metal breaches the silent. Was she still alive ? Slowly she started to feel her body aching. The General's heavy eyelids slowly opened as she saw the dark void appear once more before her eyes, even though it was all still a big blur she could clearly see two silhouettes clashing. She narrowed her eyes, trying to focus on who was up ahead. Slowly her vision returned and was finally able to see the two warriors crossing weapons with one another, but it couldn't be ? Why were they fighting ? Isaac had his blood weapon out and was furiously attacking Christa as if his life depended on it.

"Stop it Isaac ! What are you doing ?! This isn't like you !" Christa shouted as she deflected his attacks, clearly avoiding hurting him. Yet Isaac did not respond and continued his attacks towards their leader.

Klaud felt a rush of adrenaline surging through her, something was wrong, another combat has presented itself. She placed her hands on the ground and started to push herself up from the floor. Halfway up she felt a blunt object hitting the top of her head. She looked up to see a wooden puppet hitting her with his own arm. The enchanted creature shouted out with his high pitched voice and started swinging his left arm, which he was using as a weapon for his right hand, as if wielding a sword.

Klaud quickly rolled aside and got up facing the apparently enraged puppet. It was clear he wasn't himself, never before did she the always jolly Pinocchio use violence. Her foe was ready to attack again, but before he could make the first move Klaud dashed off towards Christa.

"Christa ! What's going on here ? "

"I don't know, some of us must have gotten under the influence of some sort of magic by that thing ! We have to help them !" Christa shouted back as she dodged another one of Isaac's attacks.
Klaud stopped as she just realized the massive deity was sitting above her on the same branch, just observing calmly.

*BAM*

A gunshot was heard once more. The bullet shattered against a shield of energy around the light creature. Klaud turned her head and saw it was of course Clayton firing that rifle of him to make a bad situation worse. Without a moment's hesitation Clayton started to reload his weapon. The exorcist made haste and ran towards the hunter.

The second the rifle was reloaded he once again took aim at the mystical creature of light but suddenly a battle shout could be heard from above as Raw Onion was making her way down to attack Clayton. The hunter responded by aiming his weapon towards his former ally.

*BAM*

The gun was pushed aside by Klaud and missed the foe from above who in return finished her attack by kicking both Klaud and Clayton between their eyes.

"Auw! Look what you've done. I could've taken her out !" The agitated hunter shouted at the general.

"No ! They are our allies, we do not kill them understood ?" Clayton's eyes were filled with anger he opened his mouth, presumably to shout back, but suddenly an arrow appeared between the two, slowly passing in between their faces. As if slowed by time itself the arrow crawled through the air. Both were stunned with disbelieve, they turned their heads and it was Lyra taking aim with her bow, preparing her next shot. She released the string and her next arrow moved at the speed of light, just the wind of the arrow was felt on their bare skin.

"I'll deal with her. And don't you dare fire that weapon again Clayton or so help me." With those words Klaud made her way towards Lyra who kept firing arrows at her. Each and every one of them at a different speed. Her latest shot was once again of incredible speed. The blade of the arrow whooshed past her cheek and created a pretty deep cut.

"Lyra, snap out of it !" The general took out her whip and aimed for the bow. The young archer wasn't without training and leaped back whilst preparing her next shot. Klaud decided to evade this arrow by jumping. With all her strength she pushed herself into the air, she got allot higher then usually, allot higher, so high she didn't think it was her jumping ability anymore. Klaud felt herself getting pulled towards something as if it was gravity itself. She looked at the source and saw a huge wooden 17th century sail ship floating through the air. Crashing the deck she boarded the large construction. Looking up she saw Lyra standing on the ground above her who fired two more arrows before jumping towards the ship as well.

Lyra landed gracefully and started circling the whip user. "Listen to me Lyra, you're not yourself. Something happened to you, you must fight it ! ". Her young friend stopped for a moment, her arms trembling, almost as if she was stopping herself. 'Klaud ? Help me, Klaud" She spoke with a trembling voice before snapping back to her primal state. The arrow was released but was stuck in mid-air, the perfect opening for Klaud to take advantage of. Pressing down to send herself dashing towards Lyra she noticed that her feet weren't as stable as one might expect whilst standing on wood, her boots pressed slightly down, it was like standing on a mattress . Klaud stumbled towards Lyra and lashed her whip out once more, yet this time her weapon had a mind of its own. The whip turned stiff the second it reached its maximum range. Looking perplexed she looked at her weapon. This would have to do. Klaud used her new formed whip as a very long bat and hit Lyra on her head, forcing the archer to the ground.

The exorcist didn't waste any time and made her way to Lyra. She kneeled down as she gently lifted her friend's head. "You will be alright Lyra. I don't know if this works but..." Klaud reached for the vial she found within the void. She looked at it while she ran several scenario's through her head before deciding to pour the liquid into Lyra's mouth. She started coughing immediately in Klaud's arms before losing consciousness.

Klaud picked her friend up and walked towards the side of the ship. The many objects floating around made it difficult for Klaud to jump back. She noticed a plusher teddy bear and a large clock heading towards the ship, but luckily only the stuffed animal was on a collision course. Or so she thought. The moment the toy hit the ship a loud cracking of wood was noticeable throughout the ship. It was splitting in two as the bear made his way through the ship. Nothing made sense anymore.

"Klaud ? what's happening ?" Lyra asked, waking up from her previous state of mind.

"Lyra ! I'm so glad you're back. You were under the influence of that creature, it turned you int-" The sentence was interrupted by another gunshot. Klaud turned her head and saw Clayton with a smoking gun that was aimed at the Goblin.

"Nooo ! Clayton !" She shouted from the ship in the air. She picked up her whip that had returned to its normal state. Lyra, not fully knowing what was happening picked up her bow and followed her ally . With great speed the general stormed towards the side of the ship and leaping in Clayton's direction, slowly descending from the sky. Hell has no wrath like a woman's scorn, and Clayton was about to find out just what that meant.

[Thaal Sinestro]

Silence hung like a dagger over the group, each laying upon the ground or staggering back and forth as the massive angelic being stared down upon them with absolutely distance and apathy. The attack had been quick, powerful, and utterly overwhelming, leaving the scrappy group of secondaries to the whims of yet another insurmountable challenge.

The goblin wasted no time.

A strange, digital chime rang out three times in rapid succession, and when the others looked to its source, Grobdum stared back at them, his body in hideous disproportion.

“Grob-“ Klaud managed to stutter before a broad stream of sputtering magic erupted from his fingertip, detonating in the center of the group. Body scattered in every direction as green energy and smoke cast propelled them into the darkness. Grobdum stomped into the crater he had formed at the epicenter of the swirling column of objects that soared overhead. Raising his broken staff into the air, the golden-skinned goblin began to chant and murmur, dark clouds beginning to form overhead.

“A traitor to the last!” Clayton snarled, sweeping a sweaty lock of hair from his face. He lifted his blunderbuss to his cheek and looked down the sights at his oversized target. “This is the last time I let you stand in my way!” His finger began to depress the trigger when an arrow whizzed by, slicing a deep cut into his cheek.

Staggering back in shock, He cupped his hand over the wound. “What in the blazes?” he stammered, searching for its source. Lyra stood a few yards away, already drawing another arrow from her quiver. A bright white radiance flashed from her eyes as she looked upon her target and placed the arrow on the string. “What are you doing, girl?!” he snapped. He barely had time to dive to the ground, avoiding the thief’s next shot.

“Watch yerself!” Crow yelled to Christa, but the warning came too late.

Raw Onion’s powerful kick hit her squarely in the jaw, filling her mouth with blood and spinning her already cloudy vision. The leader barely had a moment to collect herself before she was forced to evade another attack from her equine assailant. She spit, fragments of tooth splattering onto the ground in a clot of blood, brandishing her weapons. “What the hell is going on here?!” she shouted, her swollen lip distorting her words. The pegasus warrior offered no answers but instead looped high into the air and plummeted towards her target at break-neck velocity.

A thunderous clang rang out as Topman deflected the crimson path of Isaac’s blood blade. The skilled combatants moved in an elegant dance of skill as the old man lunged forward, his blood reforming into something akin to a rapier and the android side stepping the thrust. Topman’s steel boot swung up, but was stopped short by a dense barrier of hardened gore.

The bloodlance’s weapon shifted and warped as he desired it, the vital fluids dancing like water around the robot with every strike and parry. A firm jab from the bot found no purchase as Isaac evaded it to the side, his single good arm then lashing out and striking the robot-master’s torso. The blood flowed away from the wound, revealing only a shallow scratch.

Smirking, Topman shook his head, “Sorry.” A gentle hum revved up inside the machine’s body, only a half a moment passing before he whipped around like a dervish. Some part of the twirling metal struck Isaac and cast him to the ground in a heap, his blood splashing onto the floor as he lost control over it.

“What’s gotten into you, matey?” Crow shouted as he twisted around Abner’s combat blade, his hypnotic movements skirting every move that the ex-trooper made. Flowing into a rolling turn, the pirate offered his back to his opponent, only slide to the side of an aggressive stab, the blade dashing between his ribs and his upper limb. Clamping down, he trapped the trooper’s arm in his armpit, twisting his body to control Abner’s movements. “Give it up, you dog!” he pleaded as he pried the knife from Abner’s grip, “We be so damn close ta absolution!”

“Acht!” Richtofen spat as the tiny wooden boy climbed over his back. He spun, his hands reaching in an attempt to grab the puppet as it smacked its tiny fists into his head. “Mein Got!” he swore in frustration, “Get off me!” His grasp finally found purchase on Pinocchio’s leg, and the nazi scientist spiked the wooden lad into the ground.

Klaud sneered, wiping the blood from the corner of her chin. Rolling to the side, she found her feet and snapped her hand out, the glowing blue tip cracking in the air. “They’re being affected by the angel!” the general shouted, still crouched, “Defend yourself but try not to hurt them!”

Her call to action would be more difficult than she had expected as Grobdum charged forward, his magically expanded body standing a full foot taller than she was. Holy light beamed from his eyes, every aspect the goblin’s flesh now completely different in color than it was when their adventure had just begun. Klaud dove out of his path, her whip lashing out as she moved. The azure energy of the weapon cracked when it struck the goblin’s back, severing one of the leather straps that held the large box he had begun carrying.

The chest tumbled to the black floor, sliding a few feet backwards. Klaud glanced to the object before disregarding it and shouting, “Don’t make me do this!” to her giant-sized ally. When he turned to the broiling sky and thrust his half-staff to the sky, she grimaced and cast her whip out once again.

The whip snapped around the wooden staff and the general jerked it from Grobdum’s hand. The brooding of the clouds suddenly dissipated and the enraged goblin shrieked in frustration, his clawed fingers balling tightly.

“Grobdum!” she pleaded, “Stop this! Don’t let that thing control you!” The radiant aura of the angel’s light did not leave the goblin, nor did his anger.

Running over to the chest, he kicked it open with his booted foot and reached his clutching hands inside. The darkness of the Void could not consume the hateful glimmer from points that ran along the surface of the absolutely gigantic spiked sphere. The empowered goblin took a moment to admire the relic from his era as a warboss and grabbed the long iron chain that it was attached to before turning his holy vision on Klaud. A malicious grin spread over his face, his empty white eyes glaring at her with hollow rage.

“Aw shit,” she the woman sighed, instinctively taking a step back.

It seemed as though the ground itself almost quaked when the greenskin let out a bellowing battle cry, lumbering forward with the artifact of his crusades held above his head. Klaud was thankful that the shaman was rather unskilled as a martial combatant as she easily moved from the spiked chain’s path and flicked her wrist, lashing his wild weapon with her own.

The two tugged between each other, their serpentine weapons entangled between them. “Just let me help you!” Klaud commanded, jerking the knot of leather and steel towards herself. Grobdum’s nostrils flared in irritation and he reached out and placed both hands on his chain. A bestial roar issued forth and he ripped with his oversized arms, the general lurching hard into his chest.

“Wai-“ she managed before his heavy fist pounded into her gut, lifting her from the ground. It was at this point that the oversized goblin grabbed her by the shoulders, tore his weapon away from her own, and hurled her skyward into the spiraling sea of long-lost bric a brac.

The distorted physics of the Void showed their peculiarity as Klaud continued to fly through the sky, no longer tethered to the pull of the earth. Instead, the gentle gravity of a massive, floating anchor pulled her in, and her feet gently landed upon its surface. Standing at a perpendicular angle to the ground below, Klaud watched as her former allies tore each other apart.

“Why…” she softly asked herself, not truly expecting an answer from the looming white figure that shined not too distantly, “Why do this?” Her fists balled at her sides, and tears began to slip down her cheeks, parting from her flesh and drifting weightless in the air. “WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM US!?” she finally snapped, howling into the Void, demanding an answer from an eternity that spanned in every conceivable direction, endless in its expansiveness and ceaseless in its apathy. Still, the angel stared on, unmoving.

Below, Grobdum spun the ball overhead before releasing it, allowing it to crash into a clock that lazily ticked over his head. Crouching down, he leapt into the air and simultaneously tugged, pulling himself into the strange gravity of the maelstrom.

Clambering over the clock, he sprung from item to item, leaping across the endlessly strange and unique items as he made his way towards his foe. Regaining her composure, Klaud scowled and cast her whip out, wrapping it around a nearby lamp post. Grunting, she swung it down and released it, sending it flying through the ether.

Grobdum leapt up as the lamp post smashed through the wooden chair he had just departed, brachiating his way through a series of umbrellas. A fishbowl, complete with goldfish, slammed through a window pane, scattering twinkling shards of glass in every direction as Klaud continued to toss anything she could catch. The goblin soared through the mesmerizing field of scintillating crystal, the holy madness the angel had cursed him not allowing him to notice the myriad cuts that opened up on his face and arms, nor the blood that wept from them as he soared. Snatching a wagon wheel, his momentum spun him around before he planted his feet on the axle and steadied it.

He held his hand up towards the woman and her eyes shot wide in fear. Another burst of undirected viridian magic burst from his palm, scattering in every direction. Explosions blasted all around her as items her blown to scraps, the fragments colliding with each other and flying towards every horizon. One of the streams of power struck the base of the anchor, catapulting her back into the Void without ballast or orientation.

Tumbling head over heel, Klaud’s arms and legs thrashed in a wild attempt to reclaim her bearing as she soared through the treacherous vacuum. Grobdum pushed off of the wheel, thrusting it off behind him and propelling himself forward. The two collided midair in a tangle of claws, fists, steel and leather.

“Stop this!” she shouted into his face as she pushed his snapping maw away. “Stop this while we still can!” The ravenous monster did not listen, if it could even hear her. Posturing up, she leaned backwards and maximized the distance between herself and the goblin’s face before pulling her arm back and slamming an elbow into his nose.

As his nose flattened and split in a burst of weightless gore, the goblin size stuttered back down to his native height, the sphere and chain now hilariously oversized in his hands. Klaud easily overtook the diminutive combatant’s strength and stuffed her foot into his belly. With a grunt, she kicked him down away from her and towards the ground, his tiny form bouncing off the random flotsam of the maelstrom.

He hit the ground with a thump and puff of dust, laying still.

[Gamzee Makara]

What? What!?

I cannot see! Ich bin fucking blind! I CANNOT SEE!

I am dead! I must be dead! Vaporized upon entry, me, my companions, all of us! This ‘Void’ was not meant for secondary occupation. I-

Oh. Oh no. It’s just verdammt black and dark. Everywhere. Forever.

Wie meine Seele.

Mein eyes adjust to the impending doom and gloom and I see that my fellows surround me, all in equal states of confusion. It is relatively silent upon our entry into the void. Everyone is still regaining their bearings, I assume. It takes a few moments, but finally the expedition is moving once again. I file in line next to Herr Crow and the creature known as Grobdum. He eyes me uneasily, and I him. Not exactly hostility, per se, but just a general cautionary glance. Such a strange beast-thing.

The robot, Top-Man as it were, was fiddling with various robotic paraphernalia, like his kamera and flutlicht. Apparently, this automaton has been filming the events of our journey since the beginning, a thought that is quite novel to me. He reports to the group that most of his tech is refusing to function properly - His lights will not penetrate the darkness, his video-rekorder will not stream a ‘live feed’ to his audience, and his navigational equipment has gone wütend. He remarks that his ‘app’ (Whatever the fuck THAT is.) is not functioning properly, but no. No, it is not that simple.

“No. No, it is doing exactly what it should be. Our surroundings are constantly changing.” I let loose a slew of swears in my native tongue. This world is more confusing than mein own scrambled Gedanken. Abner attempts to reassure myself and any others that might be losing their composure, but I cannot speak for its effectiveness. Top-Man continues with further attempts to fiddle with his lights, and it becomes clear we will be making this journey in the low light. Some, including Isaac, try their hardest to be brave, and I commend their performance. However, bravery does not often go without trepidation.

We begin our trek again.

We warily continue like this for quite some time. All of us puny secondaries moving forward through this dark expanse of nothingness; a void by any other name. Grobdum and the hunter, Clayton, continue to shoot each other rather nasty glares. I keep my own eyes away from their exchanges. I don’t like this hunter. The way his calculating eyes swivel about make me think of a predator, an animal, one that is caged or restrained but constantly looking for a way out. But what? What is he caged by? What is holding him back?

Or what is he holding back?

I remain ever cautious. Christa, whom my feelings toward flip flop every five minutes, plainly addresses us and our current situation. She is correct. There is no point in turning around back into the swamp. We either move forward, or we turn around and die.

Or we die here. I leave that thought to myself, however.

In my head, I hear this constant…ticking sound, as if my conscience had its own metronome. Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot…

Translations:
Ich bin = I am
Verdammt = fucking
Wie mein Seele = Like my soul.
Kamera = Camera
Fluticht = FloodLight
wütend = berserk
Gedanken = thoughts

-----

Right. Left. Right. Left. Right. It is so boring, so monochromatic, so tedious.

Then, I begin to ‘trip out,’ as Top-Man would put it. I am not sure what happened, but then again, I am not sure what has happened for basically this entire foray. Right as I place down another left, the world is covered in a strange veil. I see the world as if it were a kamera negativ, my eyes deceiving and inverting all colors before me. The strange blackness of the void becomes a blinding white, much to my visual-headache chagrin, and all of my allies and their clothes become odd, nonsensical colors. I squeeze my eyes shut, pressing the heels of my palms into my sockets in an attempt to relieve some of this pain. I shout a small shout of mild pain, so that my companions do not leave without me. Klaud blinks, and tries to ask me something, but her voice is verdreht and strange, as if she was possessed by some demonic entity. I cry out again, and rush forward, nearly knocking over the general in an attempt to leave this strange pocket of space. When I open my eyes again, the world is as normal as it can be in the void. My allies stare at me incredulously, as if I had just told them I was promoted to the King of the Void by Omni himself. I try to explain what had just happened, but don’t even manage any English.

“Ich sah Dinge. Aber es war nichts.”

I pride myself in making as little sense as possible.

We walk on in silence for quite some time.

Translations:
negativ = negative (Camera negative)
verdreht = twisted
Ich sah Dinge. Aber es war nichts. = I saw things. It was nothing.

-----


Left. Right. Left. Right. Left-

Oh.

Before us lies a vast expanse of, to put it bluntly, junk. Clocks and statues of varying origins and models, dinnerware and other fine china, all manner of glowing things that look suspiciously like power sources, and the books, my Gott, so many books. Miscellany; that is the word I would use to describe it all. Zufall, all of it. I cannot even begin to describe everything that was cluttered around.

In the midst of it all was...Words cannot express. I have to shield my eyes, as a piercing white light has once again blinded me. I do not know what this thing is, but it is surrounded by some kind of holy-looking light. Voices, but not the ones in my head. They have been strangely silent upon my entrance into the void. No, these come from the others. They are all discussing how best we should handle this situation. I am still recovering from just glancing at the thing, and when I finally chance opening my eyes, what I see is horrifying.

Clayton, the hunter in yellow, has officially gone insane. I am able to process what is happening right as he takes aim at the beast with his schrecklichen streukanone. I am not able to stop it. I make a move to run towards him but he’s so far away I can’t reach him I can’t stop-

BANG!

I freeze in my tracks. I stare with a mouth wide open at the mystical creature. It is...unharmed? Bah, of course it is. A beast such as this could not be harmed by average means. Clayton was a fool to try. In the moment of impending silence that follows, I glare at the hunter and unholster Boomhilda. I even begin to stir up some fancy German swears before-

Before-

Before-

I open my mouth, yet I am unable to scream at first. Finally, a vicious, terrible sound erupts from the back of my throat. This pain, this uncontrollable, immeasurable pain, floods my body. At the same time, through all of this shite, I feel this entity, this damnation poking around in my head! It picks and chooses thoughts and memories and reflections and it absorbs them, eats them, devours, consumes, and it fucking HURTS! The scientist in me remains through the agony, and I briefly wonder how exactly I can remember these thoughts and memories even though it quite literally reaches into my brain and steals them from me. Other than this sole thought, all I can feel is this immense, unimaginable suffering. Never again will I use the term ‘holy’ to describe this creature. I skip the sinking to my knees part this time. I just fall flat onto mein face, my body writhing as it is scrutinized by this intense misery. I imagine this is what it feels like to be an ant under a magnifying glass. That is what we are, compared to this phantom. Ants.

I do not know if I ever lose awareness or consciousness, All I am ever aware of is the torment my body is subjected to at the hands of this phantasm. It feels like hours upon hours of torture, but in reality, it could have only been minutes or moments. Or perhaps not. Time does not exist in this world, in this universe. In this Void. When I dare open my eyes, my entire being is throbbing. I...Think I have all my memories, but I am unsure. How would I know what has been stolen? I rise slowly to my feet, aching with every movement. When I am up, the first thought that enters my mind is simple.

Verdammt jäger.

My eyes search for the bastard, Boomhilda at the ready.

And then a verdammt fliegenden pferd swoops down out of nowhere and stomps on my face. I almost fall backwards from the force of the blow, but retain my balance and swivel around to see her swirling back up into the sky. What in God’s name?! I look around, and find that there are several other instances of infighting amongst our not-so-merry band. Fantastic. I take cover from further blows from the flying horse, diving behind an upturned bookcase. Her name escapes me, as we have not had much contact over the course of our journey. It had something to do with vegetables, though I do not remember vegetables being capable of inflicting so much pain. A plan a plan I need a fucking plan! I-

Crawling around on the ground, my hand finds a strange spherical device. It has a small button on its equator. Curiously, I mash it with my thumb, and watch in awe as a yellow, mouse-like creature phases into existence, right in front of my eyes! It blinks its beady little eyes.

“Pi...ka? Pika-pi?”

What?

“What?”

“Pika-Chu!”

I’m not entirely sure how to interpret this exchange.

I think it smiled at me. It scampers up to me on all fours, and nuzzles into my hand. This display of affection is slightly sickening, but I do not shun the creature. Allies are in short supply right now. With a small scowl on my face, I tentatively pat the creature on its little head. And then, the little red identical circles on each of its cheeks begin to spark before-

Before-

Thunder shouts at me from unseen clouds, and I jump away with a cry of surprise from the little thing, golden lightning dropping from the heavens onto the diminutive mouse. When I glance back at the beast it is unharmed, and staring at me with a benign curiosity.

Strange.

I shuffle back to it, hopefully avoiding the attention of the chaos ensuing around me. It blinks at me. I blink back. I calmly unstrap the lightning staff from my back, and show my new freund the crystal atop of Kemat. It is mesmerized by the power of lightning hidden within, and with a cry of delight, it shouts to the black skies again.

“Pikaaaa!”

Right…

The pegasus comes back into view, making a beeline for my face once again. Gah! I raise Kemat’s Bite at the horse, ready to defend myself if need be, but then something incredible happens.

“Piiiiikaaaaaachuuuu!”

A bolt of lightning streams from the heavenless sky once again, aimed squarely at the incoming hostile. Only this time, the plasma is colored a deep violet, like that of the crystal! It blocks the flying horse’s path, causing her to be forced to make a sharp U-turn away from my position. I breath a sigh of relief. I look down at the mouse thing. The electricity sparking around its conductive cheeks is the same color as the lightning that came to our rescue. Is it...smirking?

I like this thing.

I shall call it Blitz.

“Blitz! If you can understand me, I need you to stun that horse. Stun! Not murder! Just enough force to knock her out. I need you to keep her at bay until I can find the hunter. Understand?”

“Pika-Pi!”
Blitz gets up on two legs and salutes me.

Goddammit.

Translations:
Zufall = Random
schrecklichen streukanone = Terrible Scatter Gun
Verdammt jäger = Fucking Hunter
verdammt fliegenden pferd = fucking flying horse
Blitz = Lightning

[Yu Kanda]

Klaud was exhausted by all the fighting, she looked down at Grobdum body laying on the ground after combat. He was still breathing but the poor creature endured a heavy beating. The General's body was aching all over, the combat started to take its toll on her body. The warrior looked around and saw friends fighting friends, meaningless battles and energy wasted. Why must it come to this after all they been through? Klaud just did not understand, this was not why they endured all those trials, this is not why the others died. If they lose themselves here in this empty place the sacrifice the others gave was in vain, she was not going to let Jan's death be in vain.

She turned around towards the angel and started walking towards it, her gaze locked with the mystical creature. If there was anyone who could stop this it was the gigantic birdlike deity. It was the best chance the remaining survivors had to complete their journey. Klaud stopped several meters in front of the bright glowing angel and looked up. Unsure if it would understand her Klaud started to communicate with it.

" I truly hope you can understand me. You have shown us great power and strength, we recognize you as a truly powerful being. Please forgive our intrusion in your home, we are merely trying to travel towards Omni, not meaning any harm or disturbance within your world."

The creature simply stood on its branch, floating in the air between all the other objects. Klaud wasn't sure if it was hearing her or even looking at her.
" I am asking, no, begging you to release our friends from this mind trick. They are my friends, I cannot see anyone else getting hurt on this voyage, I've had enough of death following us every step of the way. Please, free my friends, let us peacefully continue our quest."

Yet again there was no reaction from the godlike creature. It made Klaud feel helpless, this wasn't an opponent she can fight with strength. There was no easy way, they were at its mercy. The once proud general fell to her knees. " We've suffered enough, we are so close to finding Omni. So please let us find him together, and not just the select few that survive a meaningless combat. You can stop this."

Those were the last words Klaud uttered. Sitting on her knees in front of the bright lighted angel, hoping her words reached it. Enough blood has been shed, they shall live and find Omni together.

Used Klaud's item in the previous post

[Zack Fair]

Abner slowly stood up, his head spinning and his body screaming in pain. That situation had gone from zero to one hundred in a hurry, and he was still reeling from it. Standing there, still dazed, he looked down as he raised his hands up to eye level, making sure that he was still mostly intact after that experience. Suddenly, his hands clenched into fists, and he felt his heart skip a beat. He hadn't told his body to do that, and it ignored his attempts to open his fists back up. Oh, this was not good.

The sounds of battle could be heard around him. He looked to see his allies beginning to fight amongst each other. It was a chaotic scene, with everyone's vastly different skills and weapons going against one another. Abner's first concern was figuring out who was on who's side. The difference between the possessed and the defenders was key. He dismissed that thought, somewhat longingly, as his feet took a few steps forward without his permission. Because on the other hand, who was on what side didn't actually matter to him too much, since he didn't have control over his own allegiance.

He couldn't help but mentally curse Clayton for getting them into this damned mess. The hunter had instigated this whole fight, and because of that idiot Abner was sharing a skull with some unwelcome presence. It hurt like hell just to think, as with every attempt to express the slightest bit of control over his body the rejection felt like his mind was going through a blender. He couldn't even scream out in agony at the unimaginable pain because of the lack of control over the slightest of functions. The screams just echoed in his brain, as if it weren't already crowded enough in there.

Despite that, he powered through the pain to find the small solace he could in slinging mental insult after mental insult towards the hunter. They obviously didn't make it too far, but Abner was a firm believer that it was the little things that mattered. He wished he could do more, but this angelic being was calling the rest of the shots. As he thought, though, he could feel his hand breaking the snap on his holster, and his palm wrapping around the handle of his pistol. At least he and his new roommate were on the same page about something.

But Abner knew the lesser of the two evils, or at least he had an opinion on them, and fought with all his heart to keep himself from shooting Clayton in the back. It was no use, though, as every fiber of his being ignored his simple demands, and he could only watch through his own eyes as he raised and aimed the firearm at his own reluctant teammate.

As he squeezed the trigger, he was surprised and relieved when his hand was struck by another being, and his aim ruined. Though his arm went across his chest he still pulled the trigger, but the bullet was projected off into infinity. Clayton was unharmed, and Abner slowly turned to see that Christa had been the one to hit his arm and deflect the shot. She looked at him with surprise and regret. He wanted to tell her that he was still here, but nothing would let him do that. Instead, he unwillingly brought his pistol back across his chest and struck the girl across the face with the bottom of it.

Christa fell backwards and landed in a seated position, using one arm to brace herself while the other clutched her bleeding cheek. She glared up at Abner, with plenty of emotions captured in a single facial expression. Abner could see the bewilderment, the betrayal, and the sadness in her eyes as she looked down the barrel of his pistol, which was now aimed directly between her eyes. Oh, and it was Christa, so there was a healthy dose of fury thrown in there, too. Though he hated every action his body made against his will, deep down Abner appreciated the irony of the fact that he had just managed to break free from subtly being a villain for all these years only to now have blatantly become one.

At the same time, though, he refused to let this happen. This being had seized control of his body, and had made even his thoughts feel like a violation of the natural order, but goddammit this was his life and the choices were his. He'd been a little quieter after watching Christa's insane display of power in the swamp simply because he was enamored with her in a way he'd never been before. He couldn't admit it until now, as he was struggling for control of himself, but he was more in awe of her than anyone he'd seen. There was something about every bit of her that he just wanted to know more about.

It was through that intense focus that he managed to gain just a bit of control over himself. In a swift movement he threw his pistol aside, so he was now simply towering over her completely unarmed. She looked relieved as she gazed up into his eyes, realizing that deep down he was still in there and that he was fighting for control. He stared back into hers and realized that she was looking through it all to see the real him.

But fuck, woman. She'd been more than ready to pummel any member of this team to a pulp this whole journey, and now, of all times, she wouldn't get up and beat his ass into the floor with any sort of urgency. He couldn't hold himself back all day. It was a little out of nowhere, but he was reminded of his lost zombie companion, Urg. How many times had the undead being elicited silent screams at the team, with the perfect answer to any problem? God, this was frustrating.

Against his will, he suddenly drew his combat knife from it's sheath. A low, primal roar escaped his mouth. He never would have imagined that he was capable of making such a horrific sound, and he probably outright wasn't without the help of the angel. He went to move in when he was suddenly struck by Crow's boot, which sent him stumbling aside.

He never lost his footing, and after a few awkward steps regained his balance. He stood and turned to see that Christa had manged to get up as well, but now Crow was his nearest friend. His body moved towards the pirate captain and swung the knife towards his throat, but Crow was quick to move aside. The swordsman had the obvious advantage in close quarters combat, but his attempts to not harm Abner as they struggled evened the playing field. He shouted and begged Abner to get a grip come to his senses. The ex-stormtrooper had to admit that he made some pretty good points, but there wasn't much he could do about it.

Crow managed to disarm him, and his knife fell to the floor of the Void. Abner was quick to note the pirate's decision to not draw his sword. He was grateful for that, even if he was showing it in the oddest of ways. He stepped in and swung his fist at Crow's face, rattling his jaw as he stepped into the powerful punch. The captain shoved him back and tried to stay defensive, but the one controlling Abner's body would have none of it.

He watched his body move helplessly, and yet everything seemed more distant every second. The creature was not only taking control of his body but slowly his mind as well. He felt the rush of battle surging through him. His rage boiled up towards his teammates as he slowly began to lose himself in the fight. He couldn't resist because he found himself with less of a desire to do so. He knew he had to fight this, as well, but it was just so overwhelming.

His head rattled as Crow landed a punch across his face, and he returned one in kind. The two's battle had dissolved into an outright brawl, and he felt the sting of every blow. That just made it even harder to focus, and he became more lost with every strike. The angel took full control of his abilities by then, mixed with it's own deep knowledge of this odd land.

"Wake up, matey!" Crow shouted as they exchanged punch after punch. He was able to block some while others connected. The captain was conflicted, as he was doing his best to survive, win, and somehow not harm Abner too badly. The best case scenario was getting him back to his senses, so he continued to yell at him as they battled. "I know yer stronger than this!"

Abner had nearly lost it completely, though. Every second that passed sent him further over the edge. Crow blocked another punch, and this time did hold him by the arm. Abner moved to grab the captain as well, but Crow had already taken a few steps and flung him forwards. Abner ran a few steps forward, not losing his balance like Crow had hoped. Instead he jumped up, with knowledge only the angel could have put in his head, and his left foot connected with a seemingly invisible wall. He pushed off of that and turned in the air, coming back down onto Crow with a powerful sucker punch.

The captain was sent sprawling backwards from the impact, and mixed back into the battle scene. Abner looked across the melee as well, before locking his eyes onto one of his previous targets. All of his thoughts from earlier felt so distant, so hazy. What the hell was this thing doing to him? Without any control, his eyes narrowed as he moved towards Christa.

[Gildarts]

There was a swirl of motion and her stomach churned.

Christa had taken a step forward, only to feel the thrash of a jarring tug, lurch her backward. She was being pulled in all directions. Or rather, the directions which she turned had mixed results. She couldn’t help but to think of the absurdity of it all. They had spiraled along walls, things that shouldn’t have happened occurred with massive collateral impact and now it was all turning to shit.

They were following the yellow brick road, but no! Clayton shot the fucking wizard. The Oververse was supposedly beyond this place, if it even existed. They strode on forever, following a single line that held no promise to deliver them anywhere. However, a good leader never revealed her doubt, especially to those loyal enough to follow her this far without question. She was relieved they had not persisted on the topic of her sister, and more or less sauntered on with a tremendous amount of reliance on the lines that made scape of the infinite room. A glance over her shoulder only resulted in the cascade of her feet as she tripped over “nothing.”

Christa heaved a sigh and summoned the strength to stand after falling face-first into the flat ground. Dismay clouded her eyes. Her mind wandered as she tried to clear her head and better face the task at hand. There had been a creature, a deity donned in azure white, and adorned with radiant and full wings. Then, Clayton had shot at it and everything merged into a sickening blur. Dizzying motion filled her with a sickness in her stomach. That was when it all fell to shit.

A flinch and everything happened around her simultaneously, and to her distain, nothing bent to her will. Protest, movement, and forceful retaliation, all filled the actions she had hoped would have consequence. Neither did.

She pushed, she shoved, and narrowly avoided some dangerously close shots, aimed by her truest friend, Isaac.

“You trying to fucking shoot me?” Christa challenged, another shot rang out, startling her.

Her shocked face turned to Isaac, who had coincidentally found a pistol. Already, he had shot at her three times. His clip was almost empty. Almost.

“Thought you didn’t like those, Isaac.” His aged face looked weary, his eyes dodged invisible shapes. Whatever had made him wield this weapon, was not something she could see. “Or don’t you recognize me?” She challenged the illusion behind his eyes.

“Fight it. I don’t want to shoot you, old man.” She warned and held her pistol cocked too, no idea if he could actually see her.

Clayton came round after spying their showdown. He only watched, hoping he wouldn't have to take down his now-enemy, Isaac, who -he read- seemed to have intent on killing Christa.

Shadows continued to form in Isaac’s eyes. Christa took her chance and extended her leg in a well-swung kick, disarming the man. She thought she had prevailed -as maybe he could not form his blood into bladed shapes and elongated whips in his current state- but that theory was completely obliterated by what happened next.

Never had she been more wrong.

A long, slithering whip of blood caught Christa a little too close. Along her arm, a deeply embedded gash began to form. A rush of hot blood tumbled from the widening wound, but still she could feel no pain. Numb, as her reaction had been that Isaac had attacked her.

“Mother. Fucker.” she cursed and now wielded her revolver in her left hand. In her right, she was beginning to lose all feeling. Her lip quivered into a livened snarl at the molten feeling of her own raw wound as she could do nothing to cover it without lowering her weapon. The scarlet tears gushed from her arm while her eyes remained iced and cold. She faced a friend, and an enemy. A traitorous situation. She damned Omni. She damned herself. She damned them all.

“I don’t want to shoot you, damn it.” She warned him angrily, through closed teeth. But his gaze was elsewhere and hard, while his lips remained stern and unmoving. As though he was not seeing her as she was. Christa could only imagine the horror he was enduring. His body here, his mind there. She could only guess what -or who- he had raised the gun to.

All of this chaos and literal insanity. And there was nothing she could do about it.

There was a calm that fell upon them and while the room whirled around them at a hundred miles per hour, between the small ten yards that spanned before them, Christa saw a doubtful hesitation in Isaac’s eyes. His gut -his intuition- something was telling him this was wrong.

“Trust it.” Christa hoped out loud, and now saw his wavering gaze glance at her gun. Suddenly she wondered if he saw her unarmed -that was, if he saw her at all-. But she wasn’t shooting, which was probably why he was not telling the coils of blood that surrounded him in a tangle of thin webbing, to, well, rip her apart.

“I’m not an enemy.”

Doubtful as Christa was, she lowered her defense. “There’s no point if you don’t make it, old man.” She muttered to Isaac, “Remember we started together, in that dingy old saloon? Then we hauled ass out of that fuckin’ desert and we are closer than ever. Don’t you dare get compromised on me now.” The girl held up her able hand after holstering her pistol. “See? No tricks...”

Liar. Nagged her conscience, but she reminded herself that:

This. Wasn’t. Isaac.

Determined eyes trailed with careful calculation, and the trajectory of her target neared. Christa dared to take a step closer to Isaac. His body coiled back, tense.

“I don’t know what you are seeing, Isaac. But I know once you had a wife. I can’t imagine to know what it must have been like to carry on without her. Worlds apart. Hell, I don’t even know if you can hear me right now. But, I will say, this...” Her tone leaned in, and she edged closer.

“Isaac, we’re almost there.” She reminded him, noticing the fresh tightness pull on the lines of his face.

Her hand reached out, as though to shake on it, the trust she had in their alliance. But Christa shoved him, and felt another skewer slip into her flesh. Suddenly, Isaac was caged in a durable glasslike jail cell, and Christa fell to the floor, grasping the urgent pain that flashed hot in her shoulder.

...

Christa looked up to see Abner’s face, distinguished and shadowed by his hair. His eyes distraught with rage and swirling with conflict. She saw his pistol raise toward her closest ally but shook her head only at the heavy weight of shame and disappointment she felt in herself for letting this happen.

“Fuck. Not you too.”

[Proto Man]

How hard was it to have a verse that stayed in the same state for longer than fifteen seconds?

Top Man didn’t know which was less cheery, the swamp at the edge of the Tangled Green or the darkness of the Void. He’d traveled through the Nexus on numerous occasions, and this grayscale replica made that place look like a work of fine art. The fact that debris floated around aimlessly didn’t help to make the place feel any more pleasant. A closer inspection showed what seemed to be the broken remains of an X-Wing drifting alongside a few broken Byzantine columns.

For a moment, things were nice and nearly pleasant for what remained of the group. Although withered by time and the ravages of the Swamp, they had made it one step closer to their objective.

Unfortunately for them, the obstacles weren’t getting any smaller.

The ‘angel’ had struck them all down in an instant. A blast of white light had overloaded Top Man’s audiovisual sensors and rendered him useless for a few moments. When the interference subsided, he found himself slumped on the ground near a broken statue from ancient Egypt. Somewhere in that daze, something had wormed its way into the heads of a few survivors. People lunged at friends and long-time acquaintances with murder in their eyes.

Top Man managed to catch the edge against Isaac and stun the swordsman with a roundhouse kick to the skull.

“What’s wrong with you?” Top Man demanded as he took a step toward the man. A glance around showed that chaos reigned supreme in the heart of the Void. In the distance, the glowing figure of the angel stood where it had been before the eruption of the fracas. The Robot Master glared at the creature and started toward it when something akin to rope lashed out and caught him in the side of the head. Top Man was thrown sideways and nearly lost his balance. A glance revealed Pinocchio, long whip-like strings in his hands, was stalking toward him. The wooden boy’s eyes burned with murderous intent.

“You okay?” Top Man asked. The question was rhetorical, he knew, but there was a small part of him that hoped his friend would shake his head and be free of his woes. Who does this sort of thing to a puppet? Who turns an awkward little wooden boy into a would-be murderer? Before Top Man got a response, Pinocchio lashed out with one of his improvised whips. The robot twisted to avoid the lashing, but even as he did, the other string zipped forward and caught him on the face, neck, and shoulder.

This time, Top Man lost his balance and hit the ‘ground’ hard. While he had no blood to lose, he didn’t appreciate the sparks that now flittered across the paper-thin slash. Planting his feet into the floor of the mutable verse, the robot gave himself a hard push and made it back to his feet. Before he could proceed to metaphorically dust himself off, he caught a flash of movement in the corner of his eye. He spun and winced as Raw Onion’s hind legs crashed into his chest, throwing him backwards like the world’s largest metal rag doll.

The world flickered in and out of focus in the few moments before the airborne Top Man smashed into the side of a broken statue. The robot felt something crunch in his spine, but all of his extremities seemed to be functioning within normal parameters. Chalking it up to yet more external damage, Top Man jammed an elbow into the stone surface and shoved off of it. The weak gravity of the Void made it so he dropped down at an almost glacial pace. As he descended, he was able to view some of the carnage in the area. Not everyone was locked into mortal combat… many of the seemingly affected people seemed to be fighting more with themselves than others. A glance showed that Pinocchio was clutching the sides of his head and seemed to be trying to overcome whatever was trying to influence his mind.

Fight, kid.

Top Man touched down just long enough to track the shining glow of the creature. Was it an angel? From this position, it just looked like a shimmering mass of light and energy in an otherwise grayscale realm. That was the true threat. Everything else was just smoke and mirrors to distract the group and have it cannibalize itself before they even found the door to Omni’s gilded city.

“Come on,” Top Man muttered as he started to jog toward the angel. “Time to cut to the chase.” With a snicker, the robot broke into a sprint. En route, he had to front flip over one of his mind-altered associates. When he landed, he activated his buster arm and started to charge an energy attack.

Before he could fire the shot, a beam erupted from the side of the angel and struck him in the chest like a bolt of lightning. The impact sent Top Man tumbling backwards head-over-heels for a solid twenty yards before the relaxed gravity managed to alleviate his momentum.

“What the hell was that?” Top Man groaned, his eyes glancing up into the infinite gray sky of the Void. With a grunt, the Robot Master shifted into an upright position and glared back across the ‘battlefield’ at the floating mass of light and energy. “You think that’s gonna keep me down?” A second grunt took Top Man from his haunches to his feet, but before he moved back into the jaws of the beast, he caught something floating nearby.

“Hey!” He chuckled as he reached out and scooped the can out of the air. The twelve ounce can of Pepsi-Cola Oil let out a refreshing crack as Top Man popped the tab and chugged down the ‘delicious’ oily hydration. When the can was empty, he crushed it into a tiny puck and set it down on the ground. With any luck, he’d come back later and grab it, although part of him wondered if the random stuff in this verse didn’t just phase in and out of existence all the time.

With a grin, Top Man marched toward the energy creature. The mixture of petroleum and soda had suffused his beleaguered body with a rush of energy. Even if this was his last stand, he knew he’d face it head-on like only he could.

“C’mon, you piece of garbage!” Top Man shouted as he charged a blast. “You’re nothing too serious.” A beam came screaming across the ‘field,’ but this time, the Robot Master deftly spun out of the way and fired his own counterattack. The blast struck some sort of barrier around his foe, but even in that split-second, Top Man saw the splinters appear.

“You’re not different than any of us,” Top Man yelled as he leapfrogged another crackling beam of energy and lashed back with a retaliatory burst of his own. “You’re just a bunch of glitz and glamour, with no real substance. You’re not better than any of us, and you’re certainly not better than all of us!”

[Strazio Rockwell]

Isaac’s body ached and his head throbbed. Something was trying to worm its way into his psyche, and it was winning. He clutched at his head and ground his teeth to dust. Images of Sector 8 flashed in his mind like an old fashioned movie reel. He had killed them all, every last member of sector 8 was sent to hell by his own hands. The old man’s vision became hazy and he felt trapped within his aged body. A prisoner to his own flesh all Isaac could do was watch as his body stumbled to its feet. Crimson whips and bloody lances danced around his body, his vicious weapon twisted and turned itself upon his allies.

Deep inside the darkness of Isaac's mind the Bloodlance found himself trapped. He watched his possessed body attack those he called friends. Unfettered by his oath his body struck with the ferocity of an unholy demon. Blood spattered across the impossible geometry of the void, staining the black walls with a crimson Pollock painting. His first target was Christa, his closest friend. Internally the old man raged and thrashed against the angel’s icy cold grip, but the struggle was fruitless. Christa fought back carefully, trying her best to not injure the old man as he did his best to rip her to ribbons.

“Just like old times eh Carter?” a murderous voice called out to Isaac from within his prison. In the darkness he turned around and was greeted by his old friend, Romearo. Deep within the darkest recesses of his mind Isaac stilled harbored memories of Romearo, memories now made manifest by the angel’s wicked power. Isaac didn’t speak, but simply watched in horror as a ghost of the past walked towards him. Chains poured forth from the darkness and wrapped their cold metal around Isaac’s body, binding him in place. The angel’s grip on his psyche was getting stronger and soon his mind would be completely swallowed.

“You, know I’m pleasantly surprised Carter. I didn’t think you had it in you, I mean you killed me and the rest of Sector 8... But that was before you made that ridiculous oath to your wifey.” Romearo’s slick voice taunted the helpless Bloodlance.

Isaac shouted “shut up! You’re dead, you’re dead and this is all a fucking nightmare!”

“Who are you trying to convince Bloodlance? Me? Christa? Yourself?”

“Why can’t you leave me alone!?”

“You know the answer to that Carter!” Romearo shouted back, his voice pierced holes in Isaac’s head “this is the fate of Sector 8 Carter, we all die! You just have a habit of killing your friends instead of allowing yourself to be killed!”

“Fuck off!” Isaac’s voice cracked and he swallowed a lump in his throat.

“Look at you, look at all of us. We’re unnatural monsters, your blood is a fucking weapon of death for christ’s sake.” Romearo leaned in close to the chained Isaac and smiled “we fight or die, we kill or are killed. There is no other life for monster like us.”

Christa had managed to push Isaac’s body into a glass cage. His trapped body bashed itself against the glass, trying to break free. Lances of blood slammed into the walls of his prison, creating hairline cracks along the birdcage. For a moment Isaac’s body was unable to fight and could only thrash against its cage. Blood stained the crystal-like glass, creating a macabre mural of cracked glass and slick blood. Eventually the probing lances found purchase in a crack. The glass shattered into a million sparkling shards, sending blood-stained sparks of glass across the battlefield.

Isaac’s body looked around and found its next target, General Klaud. He stalked towards the fallen female, she was begging the angel to release her comrades. The old man’s body towered over Klaud, his dull blue eyes showed no sign of trepidation.

“Isaac, please...” she pleaded. The Bloodlance took no pity on her. His bloody whip wrapped itself around her neck and lifted her from the ground. She thrashed and tried to peel back the thick rope of gore. Klaud scanned Isaac’s face for any sign of compassion-- any sign of humanity, but there was none to be found. Behind them the angel watched silently, its impossible form pulsing against the bleak backdrop of the void. Was this where there journey ended? Ripping each other apart like mad dogs?

Inside Isaac’s mind he wrestled for control of his body, but he was too weak and tired to rage against the chains binding him. The once proud warrior was now reduced to a simple puppet forced to slay his friends. He wished this was the first time he had ever been in such a situation.

“You killed me Isaac, stabbed me right through the chest. I didn’t hate you for it, no I was glad... Proud of your strength. So now that cycle begins anew, your comrades are now going to fall by your wicked hands and this time you’re too weak to even take responsibility. Pathetic...” Romearo taunted.

Hot tears poured from Isaac’s eyes, he screamed and yelled. There was no more words that would feel right in his mouth. All the poor man could do was scream within his own mind, unable to even apologize for the atrocity that he was about to commit. He watched in horror as Klaud was strangled by his own terrible power.

“Come now Isaac, don’t cry it’s just the nature of things. We all die.”

“No one has to die!” Isaac screamed back.

“You sound like your dead wife.”

Melanie

Three years ago she had died, killed by empire soldiers when Isaac had refused to follow through with an order to slaughter a small village. The empire razed the village anyways, sparing none and burning the whole thing to the ground. His act of defiance against tyranny was pointless.
His wife was now dead.

He had killed her.

Perhaps not as directly as Sector 8, but his actions directly lead to her death. Or at least that’s what he convinced himself of. He never even had a chance to say goodbye, they parted on a sour note, an argument over something stupid before Isaac left to serve his final term with the Empire. All he wanted was one last kiss, one last warm embrace. That was why he was here, on this damn mission to find Omni.

He wanted to say he was sorry.

He wanted closure.

He wanted his wife.

Isaac struggled against the chains binding him. This was his mind and his body. He railed against the angel’s iron grip. He raged against the injustice of the world. He thrashed against every atrocity and every tragedy. Isaac was furious, his old body strained with the might of a thousand men against the deadlocked iron chains. Even still, willpower was little match against the awesome might of the angel. But in his struggles he forced his grip around Klaud to loosen, releasing the general. His body shivered and shook, a sign of the internal conflict taking place.

The old man tried not to break free, for that was a fool’s goal. No, he only tried to take what little control he could find. So long as he struggled his body could not move. No one was in control of his body, not the angel and certainly not himself. As long as he could do no harm he was content.

There would be no more blood spilled by Isaac’s hand.

[Zack Fair]

Christa saw him coming. How could she miss him? He moved towards her with a blank and desolate look, which was the one expression the ex-stormtrooper had yet to pull off. Whether he was rolling with the punches or complaining about the circumstances, to see him look this devoid of emotion was new and terrifying in it's own way.

Abner saw her as well. His mind was clouded and the journey that had put them here felt like a thousand years ago. None of it mattered, the only important thing was getting out of here alive, by any means necessary. But that line of thinking had done him no good in the Omniverse. He could see Christa before him. While Top Man engaged the angel outright, Klaud was pleading with it, and her words rang in his head. He'd made a promise in that swamp, and nothing in this miserable dump of a verse would stop him.

"Damn it!" Christa shouted as she looked at Abner's cold eyes. "Get it together, Abner! How did this thing get you!?"

But Abner's response was mere silence. What did he want to say? At least a thousand things. What could he say? Absolutely nothing. He'd seen her in action, and he knew what she was capable of in battle. He hoped she would find a way to contain him, but that would be no easy task.

His body lunged forwards involuntarily, charging the blonde woman. She braced herself for the coming impact, crossing her arms in a defensive position before her while Abner leapt forwards. He connected his boot with her arm in a mighty jump kick. The impact jarred her and caused her to step back, while Abner landed before her.

Abner didn't have a lot of control over himself, but there were a few things he could make more difficult than it was worth for his possessor. He had to pick his battle from within his mental prison, and he struggled with all his might to keep the angel from recovering his pistol or knife, or even taking hold of the rifle that was strapped to his back. If it wanted Christa, it would have to overpower her the old fashioned way. He would take those odds, because he had confidence in her.

Whether or not she recognized his influence was irrelevant, but she seemed to respect the unspoken ground rules. Thankfully, she hadn't given up on bringing him back yet. She charged forwards this time, swinging her right fist in a hook, which Abner ducked under. He rose with an uppercut, but she side-stepped it and caught his arm. With a step forward she flung Abner into the nearest object she could find, hoping a jarring impact would break him free.

He connected with the object head first, his forehead throbbing from the impact. As he pushed off of it he looked at the odd, floating figure before him. It took him a second to realize that it was a large, cylindrical water heater. He tried to dismiss the oddity of it as his body turned. Because that was the weirdest thing here right now.

Deprived of being able to let out a groan or frustration or roll his eyes, Abner simply watched as Christa came closer and they exchanged more strikes. Each punch, elbow, or knee was expertly deflected by the other. Abner had fought a lot of odd people in his days in the Omniverse, and Christa clearly knew how to counter standard Imperial hand to hand techniques. Finally, Christa got an opening, and she gladly took it. She caught Abner's arms and pushed them in either direction, leaving him wide open for an attack. Without a second of hesitation she brought her leg up and kicked Abner in the gut with such force that he was sent reeling into the floating mess of objects.

He placed his arm against a hovering piece of wood that looked like it had been ripped from a house or something. In dismay he realized that his influence had slipped. He reached around and drew his rifle, shouldering it and aiming directly at Christa. She realized what was happening and took cover behind a statue that was hovering in stasis. Abner fired, but was unable to come close to hitting her. She bolted from the statue and darted between objects. He'd lost her, and knew it was only a matter of time before she ambushed him.

Abner slowly moved forward. It wasn't him calling the shots but this being made use of his own skills and tactics, prying the knowledge of what to do from his unwilling mind. So he moved through the sea of objects as skillfully and carefully as he ever had. He stopped by a floating engine, placing his back against it.

He reached forward and snatched what appeared to be a pair of night vision goggles from the air. The angel obviously knew they were there, and had been working towards them. He turned them on and then strapped the equipment around his head, so he was able to look through the scope with little trouble. His world lit up in green, and the unseen became seen.

It wasn't exactly night vision, because he saw more than he expected to by able to. Not only did it clear his visibility up but he was able to see through the maze of obstacles. Through it all he could see where Christa was ducked behind the ruined treads of a tank, waiting for him to get a little closer. His body obliged and moved forwards, keeping the rifle ready. It took all of his control, but this time Abner made himself pull the trigger.

A shot rang out, and a laser hit Christa's cover. Now she knew that she'd been spotted, which Abner was hoping would happen. She bolted from the treads and skillfully moved away from the former stormtrooper. She went to rejoin the group, and presumably try attacking him again from a more advantageous position. Abner was in hot pursuit.

As he moved, he couldn't help but notice the angel, able to be seen through all these objects with his enhanced vision. Defined energy lines traveled from it to each of the possessed members of his team. He realized that he wasn't meant to see these beams of energy, and only this strange piece of equipment allowed him to.

In an instant, Abner collapsed to his knees and dropped his rifle. His hands actually came up and grasped the side of his head in pain. The angel now had to fight for control of the soldier's body, because Abner fought with a renewed confidence. He didn't know what those energy beams were or how to break them, but he knew a hell of a lot more than he did before. Now all he needed to do was get back in control of himself so he could figure out how to end this.

Item Used: Night Vision Goggles

[Roger Smith]

"Shiver me....timbers..."

The words were choked out, barely audible even to his own ears over the persistent ringing in his skull. That last punch to his dome had sent him staggering back, completely losing his balance and sprawling into the midst of the chaos that had consumed their merry little band. It was a most distressing sight, especially for the good captain. He'd already had one crew of friends tear themselves apart -- with no small amount of his own assistance, mind, but that was neither here nor there -- and the prospect of having it happen again was doing everything but draping an iron cape over his shoulders. It was all he could do to keep his spirits up, fighting through the lingering dizziness in his head, and the ache in his....well, everything.

He rose to stand on uncharacteristically unsteady feet, swaying like he was drunk, his eyes darting around to stare at the miscellaneous junk floating amongst the void.

"Keep your wits about you, Herr Captain!" The voice of the doc snapped him out of his stupor, a firm, reassuring hand clapping down on one shoulder. He had that blasted strange staff of his in one hand, and some....bizarre-looking little rodent-thing following him.

Crow turned his gaze toward him and merely blinked once, the daze flickering out of his eyes. "Aye...can't be much help if I'm standin' about takin' a caulk." The doc nodded in affirmation, trying to hide the look Crow had come to recognize as 'i only half-understood what you just said but i think i agree'. It earned a chuckle from the good captain, who wiped away a trickle of blood from one of the nasty punches he'd taken. "Back to it, then!"

And he split off from the one he'd never really expected to call a friend. He spared a deep, intense scowl at the 'angel' that had started this kerfuffle, but simply adjusted his gloves and cracked his knuckles, ready to bring the rest of his mates back to their senses even if he had to beat the crazy out of them.

[Guu]

As soon as she saw her, her heart pumped out of her chest. She was fuming with pure rage.

“I suspect you know who I am.” Said the Pegasus in front of her, adorned with fancy greek metal.

“Hurricane.” Raw responded with gritted teeth.

She knew her from history. A Pegasus that lead the people of her original universe. She knew it had to be an illusion. She just knew it, but part of her wanted to vent her frustrations. She wanted to destroy something of her heritage.

“You dare represent our people in this world." It was uncertain if she was saying it, or if the commander was saying it, she was too lost in the dream. "A traitor doesn’t belong in the presence of god.”

With that, Raw charged forward, screaming at the top of her longs. Immediately, they are thrown into a midair dog fight. Everything else disappeared as she was blinded. She hit the commander’s face, or what she thought was her face. The two exchange blows for a while. Wanting to toy with her prey, the commander flew into hiding. Raw looked around for the missing former leader, wanting anything to wreck her barbaric general. Suddenly, a kick from the side landing on her rib cage. She felt some snap as she fell hard against the white floor.

She winced as she climbed on her hooves. The pain made her dial back a bit. She looked the commander in the eyes, who looked back with much glee. She knew now that this wasn’t the answer.

“I’m not going to fight you.” She said, huffing in exhaustion. “That’s what you want me to do. You want me to solve my problems with hatred. I’m not going to play your game anymore.”

The commander just simply laughed as she faded away.

[Gildarts]

Nothing seemed to be working.

Christa had motioned to everyone cognizant and able, to fire at the angel’s shields. If they took down the angel, the rest of their friends would come tumbling back into reality. She hoped. But the damned shields wouldn’t come down.

She had called everyone to arms. Christa fired her pistol and shouted back at anyone and everyone around. People responded, some even, looked relieved. The worry left their faces as suddenly they didn’t have to defend themselves from their friends or worry about surviving in the void which threw random objects bulldozing toward them, at record speed.

Klaud joined Christa, seeing how her plead for mercy wasn’t enough to win over the deathly angel. Of course, the angel recognized it was being attacked now, and this caused everyone who was corrupted (Abner, Raw Onion, Isaac, Pinocchio, Grobdum) to wage a much more desperate war on them.

Christa took the moment to change out her clip, and her eyes snagged on her favorite robot.

“Top Man. I... I need you to dance.” the robot’s lens regained focus as Christa explained in the limited time she had. “You may not have known, but, I’ve been a fan of yours for some time. It was only after I met you did I start to watch some of your older videos. And while I... Don’t want to star in any of them, I noticed one of your best equipped skills. I need to call upon you now. I need you to dance.”

Her eyes quickly scanned the influx of their allies-now-turned-enemies and hoped he understood. “I don’t want to hurt them.” She admitted. And that was where Top-Man came in. “Disarm them, distract them, do all you can. And if nothing works, then it will have been too late.” She sighed and turned back. “I’m focusing the others on breaking down the forcefield, but.. I fear the worst you will gain us by putting your life on the line is only a little extra time.”

Top man began to dance, as Grobdum whirled forward and cast a magic spell. Clouds conglomerated in a thin sparkle around the shield and the group attacking it, but nothing penetrated the shield, and Top Man began to bust a move.

“Crow! Get your soggy ass over here!” she shouted, holding back the urge to call him a ‘landlubber’ just to piss him off and make him use that fury on the angel’s defenses. Almost.

Meanwhile, Top-Man was kicking ass. He had begun with break dancing, which caught the others off guard. Move after move, he twisted and shifted, locking metallic joints and scurrying forward as he bumped into his friends. It was almost... Diplomatic. And Christa’s plan had been working. Pinocchio and friends weren’t being harmed -aside from the occasional bruise and jarring steamroll- and time was easily bought, as Raw Onion seemed unusually transfixed at the Pop n’ lock robot.
Everything was well, until Isaac’s blood scattered the air in front of Top Man.

Clayton had taken initiative, and though he had also taken a few hits from one of their ally’s. She scoffed a bit, but commended the man’s shot. He aimed his rifle where everyone else had, and Christa would have liked to lie to herself, convince her that there was a chance -that they were making a dent in the fortress- but their progress was nil at best.

They needed more firepower. They needed everyone.

Richtoffen and Lyra came just in the nick of time. Lyra’s bowstring immediately sprung as she saw what Christa was doing. In the elf’s arms the bow grew taught, until she released a flurry of arrows. One after another, they ricocheted off of the shield, whereas all the bullets seemed to simply disintegrate.

Abner broke through the shimmering haze, his eyes clear. The goggles shifted on his forehead. "In the center, the angel is holding a sphere. I think that's its weak spot. If you take down the force field, we will all fire at the shield."

The moment after Abner briefed her, a single arrow flew Christa’s way. She fell off of her feet. Another gash leaked blood and the haze clouded around her.

“Fuck.” she pulled her hand away from her arm, only to see the palm of her hand rich with blood. Her shirt was quickly drenched.

SMACK!

Something collided into Christa’s face. This better be a fucking medkit... She thought sardonically, because of all this random shit that was floating about the senseless void was useless. Christa’s hands moved the flat surface from her face. Christa immediately frowned when she saw what it was. A Ouija board.

The little piece that moved around on the board now moved rapidly as she held the board in her hands. Christa read as the invisible presence moved the piece over the letters:

“C-H-R-I-S-T-A- I-S- T-H-A-T- Y-O-U?”

The warm blood that flowed in her veins suddenly turned to ice.

“Who... What kind of joke...?” The breath in her lungs had been taken by shock’s cruel chill.

Goosebumps covered her skin, needling the hair on the back of her neck.

Christa didn’t know which Katia she was speaking to. Anything was truly possible in the Void. Was this the one she once knew, or had come to know here, in the Omniverse.

Either way, she didn’t need the confirmation that soon followed, to tell her it was her sister, from the other side.

“T-H-I-S- I-S- K-A-T-I-A.”

Christa’s hands shook, she sucked in a breath for strength, seeking redemption, and to steady herself.

After all that had happened. Her “sister” had found her again. “Katia, is this you? How did you-” She was silenced as the dial moved once more.

“H-O-W- D-O- Y-O-U- F-A-R-E- A-G-A-I-N-S-T- T-H-E- A-N-G-E-L-?”

“What...” But Christa knew she meant the celestial being, a guardian of the void. “Nothing breaks it’s defense. Everyone has given something, and the forcefield will not fall.”

“T-A-K-E- T-H-I-S- A-N-D- S-A-V-E Y-O-U-R F-R-I-E-N-D-S.” The ghost smiled from her invisible plain. “After all, I did bring you all together.”

“Take what?!” Christa fumed. Conditions for their group were only worsening with time. As though the angel’s power was fluctuating.

“S-P-E-A-R.”

“Spear?” Christa muttered under her breath. Never one to ask stupid questions, the dial was taken OFF of the board, and Christa quickly stood up and followed.

Soon, the dial slowed to a stop, and embedded in the fabric of the Void, was a small pocket, Christa was unwilling to put her arm in -as she didn’t want to loose function of her only good arm- but with little reluctance, slipped her hand in and out came a large spear. The ex-soldier had no way of knowing it was the Spear of Longinus.

Christa made her way back to the group, and just in time, as Isaac and Grobdum had united forces.

The spear wielded in her left arm, which was still bleeding from Lyra's arrow. The leader was battered and broken, yet still, determined to take down the shield. Then, it would be up to them.

A breath.

Her grasp tightened, and the spear launched from her hand.

Christa was immediately shocked with a staggering wave of electricity, flung backward ten feet, and knocked unconscious. Upon a closer look, her abdomen and chest wasn’t moving.

Her group's firepower finally hit the angel, and a lucky shot quenched the sphere that glowed close to Arael's chest.

Light bathed them all and Arael was no more.

This topic is closed! If you are late, feel free and post your late post, but a penalty WILL be marked. A follow up judge post will be concluded by me before the night is up.

Oververse or bust

-Gildarts

[Dark Link]

Pain. Horrible, excruciating pain. Lyra clutched her head as the devastating sensation overwhelmed her, an almost unnatural scream of agony and terror escaping her gaping mouth. Something was probing her mind, worming inside it, seemingly tearing through and devouring everything it could find. The girl's navy blue eyes didn't even see the ray of light that shone upon them — she was blinded by the rapidly shifting scenes from her memories, the unknown entity bringing the worst moments of her life to bear. She protested with every fiber of her being, her body turning in unusual ways as she attempted to maintain control of it. She wanted it to stop...She wanted it to get out of her head!

Moments passed, though in that torturous state, they seemed more like an eternity. When the angelic creature ceased to emit the beam, the group collapsed, falling into the darkness of their minds. It took them a bit of time before they started to regain consciousness, picking themselves up from the proverbial floor. But all was not well...

Lyra felt dizzy and unfocused. The world around her seemed like it was in a haze, the images of the objects and people inhabiting the void deformed and unclear. She could make out some of her companions, but the others were missing. She turned her head around, looking for their whereabouts. Where were they....Where had they gone? Did the 'bird' take them away somewhere? But before she could come to any conclusions, she noticed other presences. The group wasn't alone...There were others.

The Hylian didn't know where they had come from or how she was able to tell them apart from the blackness surrounding them, but shadowy figures appeared among their midst. Nearly featureless, their only defining trait aside from their humanoid shape were their red, burning eyes. Tall and imposing, they began to encroach upon them.

The archer felt her heart racing, fear and stress moistening her brow. She thought she didn't know why they were there....But that was untrue. She knew why they were there, what their purpose was. They had come to claim them. They had come to take her companions away. Even the mere thought of it filled her with dread, moments of sorrowful solitude resurfacing in her mind. No....No! Not again. Never again. She wasn't going to let that happen. She wasn't going to let them. She would stop them!

Reacting as if in a daze, Lyra didn't hesitate as one of the figures raised its arms threateningly at Grobdum. Acting almost entirely on instinct, she placed an arrow on her bow and fired it away, hardly even taking the time to aim her shot. The projectile only managed to graze past it, but it was enough to attract its attention, its menacing gaze shifting towards the teen. Panicking, she automatically fired another arrow, but this time, her target was able to nimbly avoid it.

Gripped by terror, the archer engaged the figures in combat in a trance-like state, only half aware of her own actions. She wasn't even entirely certain she made the choices entirely on her own. All she could think about, all she could care for in those moments was her fear of losing everything she had gained, of losing the friends she had come perilously close to never seeing again. Come what may, she wasn't going to let the apparitions take them away!

Yet, not all was as it seemed. As the girl found herself fighting one of the ghastly figures on a ship, it suddenly lost its vile appearance and became Klaud, who was shouting something incomprehensible at her. The teen was stunned — she was certain the general was among the missing members of the group, as she would have remembered her presence. Was it possible that she was mistaken? That the dark figures she feared so much....were, in fact, her other companions?

Lyra shouted at Klaud, pleading for help. She could not help herself...she was frightened, uncertain of how to release herself from this illusion. But all too quickly, the exorcist became a dark entity once more. Something in the back of the girl's mind told her that she was being tricked, that the figures were trying to put on a friendly face in order to deceive her. But as she reengaged her opponent, the archer was no longer quite as sure of herself.

That seed of doubt that sprang in her mind made her hesitate, leaving the dark figure an opening. Before she could react, the teen felt an object slam the side of her head and she collapsed onto the deck of the ship. The pain and dizziness did not allow her to gather her bearings and she remained lying on the wooden floor. Before she was even aware of what was happening, she felt warmth, both that of another person holding her and of a liquid that was poured into her throat. Responding with a coughing fit, her head fell sideways as she once again briefly found herself lost in the shadows of her mind.

**********

Her head still pulsating from the impact, Lyra's eyes flickered open once more, waking to the sounds of the battle that continued unabated. Her environment was no longer as unclear and frightening as before. She found herself in Klaud's arms, the general surveying the mayhem that was taking place below. Unclear as to how she ended up being carried by Klaud, the thief asked her companion: "Klaud? What's happening?"

The words quicky caught the exorcist's attention, who cracked a smile of relief: "Lyra! I'm so glad you're back. You were under the influence of that creature, it turned you int-" But her explanation was interrupted by a loud gunshot, causing her to turn her head towards the source. Not that the blonde woman, nor her younger comrade, really needed to look to know who it was that made that shot, the sound of Clayton's hunter rifle all too familiar to them by this point. But before the teen could turn to look herself, an alarmed expression formed on the general's face and she dropped the archer onto her feet. "Nooo! Clayton!" she yelled before picking up her weapon and jumping off the vessel.

Reluctantly, the street urchin followed suit, dropping off the now damaged galleon. Though she had anticipated a heavy drop, her body instead slowly descended back onto the 'floor', the work of the void's unstable gravity. Thankful for this stroke of luck, Lyra was about to attempt to catch up with Klaud when she was interrupted by the sound of....thunder?

Turning around, she was witness to an unusual sight. Amidst the chaos, Richtoffen was commanding some sort of yellow tailed creature, which fired bolts into the sky. Much to her shock and dismay, it didn't take her long to realise that Raw Onion was his target, the brown mare flying above and nimbly avoiding the discharges of electricity. So her previous doubt was correct....the shadowy figures were just an illusion. Whatever it was, the angel had driven some of them into madness and had them turn on their own allies.

Without a second thought, the girl broke into a sprint. Weaving between the objects floating around — an old refrigerator, neon lights, amphorae, a crystal ball and more — she reached the place where the doctor and his new companion were located. It was then that she recognised the creature as....some sort of outsized mouse, the bright red circles on its cheeks flaring up with energy. Facing the scientist, the teen demanded to know: "What are you doing?! Why are you trying to hurt Onion?!"

"Foolish Mädchen! I am trying to stun her so she doesn't kill someone or get killed herself!" the moustached man retorted, hardly even glancing at the girl in the process.

Turning to look at her best friend, who was continuing to dodge the blasts coming her way, Lyra contemplated for a few moments before making a decision: "I'll help you!" Not waiting to hear Richtoffen's reply, she sprinted ahead and began to yell at Raw Onion: "Onion, snap out of it!" In an attempt to draw her attention, the archer prepared an arrow. Intentionally aiming to her side rather than at the mare herself, she released the feathered projectile into the air.

Her idea worked....almost too well, as she witnessed to her horror. Though the pointed missile initially flew towards the point where she aimed, it suddenly took a sharp turn right next to the pegasus, almost hitting her in the process. But instead of wounding the equine creature, it merely flew right in front of her face and startled her. That was when she turned her now white eyes towards the Hylian and made a sharp dive. Putting away her bow, the thief took a few steps back as she braced herself for impact. Meanwhile, she heard the mare shout something as she dodged another bolt sent her way: "Commander Hurricane! I....I'll get you!"

But as she was prepared to swoop in and slam right into the 'commander', the unusual nature of the void turned against her, causing her to trip over an invisible obstacle. Unable to correct her sharp course in time, the pegasus' hooves slammed into the proverbial ground and stumbled a few feet before coming to a stop right in front of her target. Not wasting this opportunity, the street urchin leaped forward and grabbed her comrade. Clinging to her with all the meager might she could muster, Lyra begged her friend: "Onion, it's me, Lyra! You're seeing things! The angel is trying to trick you!"

She received no response other than growling as Raw Onion struggled to free herself from her grasp. In spite of her small stature, the quadruped soldier was extremely strong and resilient, almost shacking off the taller and heavier teenage girl. Lyra refused to let go, her arms firmly around the mare's neck. Somewhere from behind her, she heard Richtoffen speak: "Get out of the way, Mädchen! I can't get a clear shot!"

During their struggle, the thief noticed something floating nearby. It was a TV antenna, not that she knew that — to her, it was just an unknown metal construct. But as an idea popped in her mind, she used a brief pause in Raw Onion's struggle to grab it and hold it up: "Attack the iron stick! Hit us both!"

"WAS?! Bist du verrückt?!" the Nazi scientist responded incredulously.

"Do it!" she responded, unsure as to how long she could continue to keep the mare in place, the pony almost managing to free herself again.

"Verdammt!....Blitz, zap the antenna!"

The small creature wasted no time. Gathering its energy for another shot, it shouted: "Pikaaaaaaaaaaa....CHUUUUUUUU!" Released from its cheeks, thunder crackled and roared as it made its way through the darkness and hit the metal item. Surging through it, the voltages of power ran through both the girl and the pony, shaking them to their very core. After several seconds of immense pain, the discharge ceased. Trembling from the shock, the antenna slipped out of Lyra's hand as she fell backwards onto the floor. Meanwhile, Raw Onion — who received less of the shock — fluttered weakly back into the sky, recovering from the hit.

"Scheiße!" the archer heard the doctor exclaim as he ran to help Lyra. Meanwhile, the archer remained lying on the floor for the third time, her clothes still smouldering from the electric attack.

[Storyteller]

Comrade against comrade, friend against friend, the madness-induced battle raged on. Having taken cover behind a large oak vanity with a built-in mirror, Clayton had mostly abstained from engaging in the firefight after the initial exchanges. Not that he wasn't eager to — infighting such as this was a perfect opportunity to 'accidentally' get rid of a few undesirables. And it certainly wasn't because Klaud constantly intervened and told him not to. If there was anyone he would put out of their pitiful misery with great pleasure, it was the exorcist and her yet unborn offspring.

But much as he wished to put an end to his buffoonish companions, the hunter permitted them to 'play' amongst themselves so he could turn his attention to far greater prey — the celestial creature in front of them. The Swamp of Sorrows and the Angel itself....both had brought long buried memories back into the forefront, that fateful morning in the English countryside replaying in his mind again and again. As he contemplated about the matter, he was reminded of the reason behind that chain of events, the reason behind the madness that had driven Charles Muntz to extremes that ultimately lead to his baby sister's demise....that bloody bird.

Ever since he had been brought into the Omniverse, Clayton thought that his opportunity to make his brother-in-law pay for what he had done had passed. There was little he could do to the man directly from where he was. The hunter didn't even have the satisfaction of the thought that Muntz might fail to find the creature — given that Mary had witnessed it as well, it was unlikely that the adventurer was chasing a mere phantom. And Clayton knew Charles well enough to know that, given enough time, he was capable of finding even the rarest of species.

It seemed as though any avenue for vengeance had been lost...but the heavenly entity he now faced presented the hunter with a unique opportunity. If he could vanquish the creature and claim it as his prize, if he could show it to the world and marginalise Muntz's discoveries in one fell swoop...A twisted grin played on the moustached man's face. Yes, that would be the perfect revenge.

Aiming his firearm at the target, Clayton took a few potshots, attempting to discover a weakness in the Angel's defences. But all his attempts failed, the bullets bouncing off of the force field harmlessly. The hunter didn't know what aggravated him more: his inability to harm the creature or the fact that it continued to regard him with complete indifference. Unrelenting in his attempts, he loaded more ammo into the chamber of his rifle...

Suddenly, he noticed some sort of movement in the corner of his eyes.

***

It was that Damned wooden boy. In his mahogany fingers, a woodworker’s knife. Before the hunter knew it, he was defending himself against this.. this... Atrocity! He used his musket to defend against the silver slicer before getting a deep laceration along his arm. His shirt was stained with blood, and ripped along the same growing crimson line. The pain however, did not effect him. Only the adrenaline coursed through him now. A blast perpetuated wood chips around him and Pinocchio lost an arm.

“How appropriate for a puppet to be pulled by its strings.” Clayton called to him, victoriously, but the boy still had fight in him. Angered by the too similar sound of laughing children which rang in his ears, the boy was sent back to the past, recalling the reason he wanted to live. Not just to live as a puppet, but to live as a real boy. He made sure his one armed punches felt real, as Clayton was kneed in the crotch.

“Stop it, you... you...” the puppet struggled for the word, as the Angel’s conviction swayed the puppet’s conscience.

“Gosh-varmint !” Clayton hobbled as he used the rifle to parry the next melee before Clayton shuffled away, his eyes, horrified at the spear coming for him. Yet, the boy had just launched it. Surely, the hunter would have just enough time to take aim, fire, before dodging out of the way. Instinct took over his muscles before he could protest. And suddenly, Pinocchio’s head exploded in a bang.

Top Man’s moves were still bustin’ when he bumped into Clayton, preventing the dodge. Meanwhile, the spear thrown by the puppet, picked up speed and it’s velocity, due to the abstract room, picked up with an astounding force. Suddenly, the hunter’s heart was skewered, while his eyes remained on his to-be trophy, the Angel and the girl who was able to pierce it’s bubble. Christa was sent shocking backward at least ten feet and behind the angel’s spread of light, was the gate to Omni.

Clayton, struggled against the weight of the spear, however something suddenly was knocked in his way. The mirror of vanity, suddenly shattered by his own might, broke with the same gravity and strength that kept him standing. The last thing the hunter saw were his own vacant eyes, that reminded him of Mary’s.

...

The group moved for the door, helping eachother up and others’ mind’s hopping from the haze of madness they had endured. The injured hung off of the arm’s of the less-injured, and all, despite their grievances, moved together.

Top Man’s beat came down to an epic finale, as the other’s found themselves, and could only imagine by the aftermath, the damage they had done. Yet, the Angel was vanquished.

Abner scooped Christa up, who he had determined was - and had to be - still alive to make it to Omni. The girl was slung easily on his back, and he hurried off with the rest.

Each moved swiftly, as they took one last look around the black abyss. No one looked back as the gate warped behind them.

Feel free to write your “recap” of what your character does in the “above” in the Oververse thread as well. I didn’t want to write something in a way you would have preferred to, so I left it somewhat open.

There were two deaths this round, due to inactivity. Pinocchio and Clayton have died, and I was really sad to see them go. You both did a nice job guys!

Lastly, I’ll put up the injuries in the post below this, but I hesitate to say that it doesn’t matter the rest of you guys just made it to the oververse. Stay tuned for what is in store!

[Gildarts]

[spoiler]

Christa received a minor injury.

Lyra received a moderate injury.

Grobdum is uninjured.

Isaac is uninjured and got an E bonus! (no item though, sorry!)

Klaud is uninjured.

Richto has a minor injury.

Abner receives a thumbs up, and is uninjured. Other than getting whacked with TM’s bustin’ beat.

Top man got a minor injury, but did exceptionally well. dance moves 10/10 ;)

Crow received a moderate injury.

Raw got a moderate injury.

[/spoiler]