The Temple of Artemis(Pre-Event/Intro Thread)

[The Spirit]

The ground below you drops off into nothingness and the world arounds you shrinks into a faded black. Time passes as you continue falling deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole. Until you come to a sudden stop onto a marble ground. You push yourself off the ground and you see the gorgeous marble palace around you. The grecian, marble columns, the crystal clear blessing pool and a statue of the greek god Artemis standing with a bow and quiver on her back.

More importantly you see a floating, blue visage of an old man smiling at you. His hair is long and braided and there are bags beneath his eyes seeming that he hasn’t slept for literal ages.

“Greetings Champion. I am the mighty Hero Teucer and I have chosen you to help me in this quest to release me and to let my spirit rest in peace. I was slain in this land in a war a long long time ago. I should be resting in the Elysian Fields but that evil warlock cursed my soul onto six relics that you must retrieve for me.” The spirit floated over to the middle of the pool in which there is a small table which looks as if it has a placeholder for these items.

“The relics are scattered throughout the island and are protected by powerful guardians who have been set forth by the Warlock. Please...help release my spirit by bringing all six relics here to the temple. Once I am released I will give whoever brings me all six one of the relics and will imbue it with great power. I chose you because of your valiance and honor as a fighter and I believe that you will be the one to free me. If you have any questions I will be here as long as I’m recruiting others. Please save me.”

The Spirit walks away and sits, staring forlornly at the Statue of Artemis.

Sign-Ups have begun

[Trixie]

The sensation of falling. Trixie thought it odd that whilst walking down the well-constructed corridor of Belial’s inner Citadel her inner-ear would throw her balance off. It was the same feeling she got when making a combat jump from an infantry carrier. Before long the mistress noticed that Sia had continued ahead of her. Had she stopped walking? No. Slowly the corridor of Citadel rose above her and Sia, not noticing Trixie had fallen into the very floor itself, kept walking. Trixie could feel herself tumbling head over heels into the pitch black pit into which she was being pulled. After what seemed like an eternity the Sith soldier came to a stop on a hard surface. Her feet touched down and she dropped into a crouch like recovering from a fall.

Rising up the slave fighter raised an eyebrow noticing she was no longer in Belial’s Citadel at all. The room around her was designed like that of a Grecian temple. Every exit, that she could see, was blocked by a thick fog. A statue to a god she didn’t recognize stood atop a blessing pool, wielding a bow, her quiver on her back. The sound of faint footsteps made Trixie turn around. A translucent entity shaped as a person was headed her way.

“Greetings, Champion. I am the mighty hero known as Teucer.” It said with a smile.

Before Beatrix could speak the Spirit was telling her all about how this evil Warlock had cursed it’s soul; something about Elysian Fields and six relics that she had been chosen to retrieve. This Spirit had summoned her, from that Underverse, to an island to assist in this quest against the Warlock.

What the fuck.

“Very well, Teucer. As it seems I have no choice in my destiny anyway…” Trixie made a gesture towards the slave collar on her neck. “I will help you as best I can.”

The Spirit smiled and took his place by the statue once again. Trixie moved to the other side and stared down at the crystal clear water in the blessing pool. She took in her reflection. Her wounds from the battle had been completely healed. What left her staring intently at the water as if she were watching the carpet bombing of an allied position was the bright red halo floating just above her head. Moving her hand, she found that it passed freely through it like it was made of air. Beatrix sighed, blowing her bangs from her face. Dipping a cupped hand into the water she fed the thirst she didn’t know she had. Shaking her hand dry the soldier got up and moved over to a series of benches along the wall near a fogged exit. Taking a seat, she swung her feet up and leaned against the wall, the red glow from her halo dimly illuminating the wall behind her. Closing her eyes for the first time since the battle Trixie sighed once more.

* * *

Sia swallowed nervously in front of her boss. “No. She was there one minute and the next she wasn’t. The branding rune cannot locate her nor is it indicating that she has escaped the Underverse. We’ll find her, my lord. Trust me enough to do that.”

Belial narrowed his eyes at her.

“Find her! Find her or I will feed you to the Hound piece by piece, Morelli!” He slammed a fist upon his throne, shattering the stone.

[Ururu Kyuuei]

Ururu snuggled up against Hikaru as she thumbed through one of the objects Coruscant had the gall to call a book. Not that she didn’t value the wealth of information that was in it, but it was like calling a glorified computer a library. It just didn’t have the same effect on one’s senses that a real library or tome of pulped wood and leather did. It was however at that moment when her hand stopped working that she knew something wasn’t right.

Big give away, losing all motor function and then convulsions, but then so was a clawing pain suddenly springing up that moved from her left collar bone to the back base of her skull that only got worse. With the world shaking too and lights dimming, poison could be the only possible suspect. Cyanide didn’t fit, neither did the infamous Ami no Kuni Laughing Death; she hadn’t imbibed anything suspect had she?

The world gave a great jolt and for a brief moment she was falling but that had been only out of her seat, which only served to alert Hikaru who’s face went from contentment to something unreadable. It shouldn’t have been. For all of Ururu’s life that face had never been unknown. The connection was there but it was fading fast. Ururu’s mind spun to reach out to others, the other clones that she had in the building who were all but gone. She couldn’t even feel Aiko who was bound by the Black Star Jewelry. It was as if their connection had been severed.

Everyone come back to me!

It was normally a simple command for the Network to carry out though to Ururu’s frantic mind it felt anything but. Worse was the Personas’ currently inhabiting their bodies, they couldn’t eject themselves, couldn’t travel along the chakra pathways to fully recall their nature. Portions of them were going to be torn away any second now; like hacking arms and legs off of children with hot knives so they wouldn’t bleed out, all because they didn’t want to stop holding hands. Something was actively fighting her Network related jutsu and winning but not strong enough to make it a clean break.

And all Ururu could do was twitch on the ground watching the person she loved the most die her final death. Would omnilium even be able to repair her own brain damage if she survived the process? It was an odd thought but the medic-nin in her couldn’t help be contemplate the worse case scenario, being lobotomized and her family wasting away as a result.

The whole world gave another horrific jolt and the seal on her chest sprouted in gloriously green prismatic lights, spreading and the connection flared back to life for however a brief a moment, even as ‘books’ and so ignorantly named ‘bookshelves’ were evaporating into mist. Hikaru’s face was screaming at her but it was only coming out as the quietest whisper. The Genesis Seal’s failsafe had been activated, opening several of her Inner Coil Gates the supply chakra to the network and it couldn’t even do more than delay what Ururu was realizing now was inevitable.

Inevitable in her frozen, writhing state.

The world was flickering in an out as something tried to cut through Ururu’s heart and shake her apart. Another great rumble and the agony the held her motionless flared as if everything in her body had just fallen asleep and was trying to wake up.

All she could do was stare into those turquoise eyes, willing Hikaru to realize what was happening. She had to know, they had come up with this plan together. Well Hikaru had entertained her and acted as a sounding board but she knew, better than any other persona.

Tears overwhelming blurring her vision but Ururu didn’t care, if one thing was going to happen today, she would at least save her love. Her will pushed at one thought and one thought only… ‘Black Star’!

Hikaru’s eyes widened, Ururu couldn’t hear sound any more anyways but her eyes did carry more than sound, it seemed, her lover and confidant knew what the look of her creator was asking of her. To take the Jewelry that Ururu had saved for an event for this. All of them had called Ururu paranoid, mostly in a joking manner but they were all too aware how paranoia had saved their collective asses before. In a moment all four clones had dug into Ururu’s backpack, grabbing the black chakra crystals that had been crafted in case they came up against an enemy able to severe dimensional connections.

The word gave one last almighty shudder and Everyone was gone. All Ururu could remember seeing was the fear in Hikaru’s face. Fear that was the realization that they’d never see each other again. It was a look she’d never be able to forget.

-[ALONE]-

The sensation of falling returned but Ururu barely cared enough to brace herself, instead she hit the ground with the arch of her back and the wind being knocked out of her in a moan that was more emotional than physical. She curled into a ball of hurt gasping between breaths and tears that threatened to overwhelm her. Everything was gone, her senses, her awareness, all that was left was raw nerves and growing roar in her mind where the Network had been.

Had she been banished? Five sets of eyes and no one had seen someone sneak up on Ururu and so casually cut through the Network with jagged slices? She could remember nothing out of place. One moment… and this!

Rage flooded into her with that thought, quick to fill the gap where love had been seconds or minutes ago. Someone had taken her family from her. Her Hikaru from her. Someone was going to die painfully. Soon.

That feeling, the burning anger pulsed with an all-consuming energy. It put feeling back into her limbs and numbed most of what she felt long enough to realize what was going on around her. A rumbling exhale came out her as a growl when a blue form took center stage. From thin air it appeared, followed by a number of other people bursting forth from incandescent azure flame.

Ururu’s spindly limbs touched the ground testing it; the polished marble floor felt worn, but also hewn. Masonry then rather than mechanically worked. Bronze Age technology perhaps. The womanly fountain figure was much larger than any normal human, the representation was simplistic but had a quality that was far more symmetrical than most humans. A shrine perhaps to a spirit, or a temple to a god? Either from a dominant religion of the area, well-funded by nobility as its main driving force or–

No there would be time for studying what civilization made this place later, after she found an eviscerated the person who had banished her from the arms of Hikaru. And now that she was starting to get a clearer view of the world around her she had a good idea who. After all Ururu had been around long enough to have her estimations of situations often come back accurate, the fact he had just named himself their chooser put that final mark on his tomb.

Pushing herself up fully Ururu glared at the Spirit with that tomboyish face and body, assessing him. He had the look of kindly grandfather sort of appearance but held himself like a warrior of some kind. The short concise speech was too precise as well. It reminded her of the very first words she had heard when she had appeared in the Nexus. Which point of fact gave her a measure of Omniverse in general. It was full of powerful assholes who just randomly abducted people with no care of the fucking consequences!

So he wanted them to save him? He was trading his hell to give her her’s.

What right did he have?

“Why the fuck should I save you when you just took me away from my family, from my Hikaru? Maybe even killed them!” Ururu growled out her question, her words working its way into a full on yell. Her whole body enunciated what she was saying, sending her duster flaring with both physical strength and barely restrained chakra, her mind too wrapped up in her loss to notice something was fighting against her very nature as a ninja.

[The Spirit]

Teucer raised his eyebrow and he floated above the blessing pool, his feet almost touching the tip of the water. The Spirit was planning on calling in many heroes but he never assumed one would be ungrateful for the chance of great power and noble intentions. He had no idea what he had done to summon her into this verse and whatever commotion he had caused to make this young thing so upset. He had to think of something.

"I have been trapped here for literal eons, not being able to leave this very palace. All I ask is that you free me and I shall reward you somehow. If I can pull you across verses, how vast do you think my power is? If you succeed in the quest, perhaps I can give you something one of my relics cannot. Think over that for a while. Either way you're now trapped with me until I am free."

The Spirit went back to his spot and let out a sigh before searching for more heroes.

[Albert Wesker]

Something was wrong.

Sounds were the first thing to go. Static flickered in his audio receptors, kicking up errors and muffling noises, as if rapidly retreating down a narrow tunnel from the source of the ruckus. The scene grew more and more dull, colors bleeding out to leave the entire scene washed in monochrome and shadows. Colonel brought one hand to his head, his balance deserting him with a rough stagger. Everyone in his group turned an odd look toward him, and even the mighty king Bowser arched an eyebrow at the sudden display.

"Hey, man, you alright there?"

Zack. His voice sounded warbled, as if from behind a curtain of water, or a great distance away, despite standing only a few feet to his side. Colonel responded in the negative, shaking his head with a brief, "Systems acting up..." His attention was snatched by the approach of the koopa bearing copies of the reports Bowser had ordered passed out. And as the beshelled turtle-man held it out...Colonel flickered, like a lightbulb going out, and burst into a spray of Omnilium, phasing rapidly out of sight as he all but fell through the ground.

And then he saw nothing but swirling colors amid a field of blackness.

His internal systems and orientation sensors fought against everything to right his awareness of what, exactly, had befallen him. Dozens of system checks and queries as to his predicament flashed across his internal HUD, blinking red and white in concern and warning. And then two things overrode everything else quite clearly: that he was falling, and that his systems were compromised. To what extent, and in what way, he had no idea.

Logical sense started to re-assert itself, and then he touched down on solid ground. He stumbled at the landing, winding up in a crouch, one hand splayed on the ground for balance. It felt very much like the stomach-turning sensation of passing through the nexus gate. Before he could even rise properly, he was greeted with the simple words, "Greetings, Champion."

What in the name of...?

The soldier navi listened intently. He needed information, and if this Teucer was going to give it so freely, he wasn't going to turn it down. It sounded like quite the predicament the fellow had ended up in. He needed help finding these so-called relics to free his spirit. That sounded easy enough. It would be a lie to say that Colonel was anything but understandably irritated at being so unceremoniously yanked from his former task to be deposited here and essentially forced to participate, if what he was surmising was true...but it wasn't as if he could turn down the request, in good conscience, now that he was here.

"Understood," he said, flatly and simply. That was all that needed to be said, and the spirit seemed satisfied with this answer, turning back to its work.

As the spirit resumed its search for others to assist it, the cybernetic soldier turned his focus away to the rest of the area as a whole. Ancient stonework. Probably of a Grecian style. Reminded him faintly of many of the countries he'd visited with Baryl in their line of work. It hinted at how long Teucer might have been waiting around to be freed from his predicament.

Regrettably, it seemed not everyone was so willing to help. It was understandable, being angry at just being pulled here so abruptly, and in such a fashion...but as the spirit quickly pointed out, doing so as no small feat. How great must this hero's power have been, even in death?

Enough that at his current level of strength, the so-called 'perfect navi' didn't much like his chances if it came to blows. He would take the less insane route of escape, and assist him with this goal of gathering the relics.

It was only right, after all.

[Proto Man]

They’d made it nearly to the Town with No Name when Proto Man’s environmental sensors started to beep.

The robot paused and glanced around, his eyes wide behind his visor and his lip a tight line across his youthful features.

“What is it, Blues?” Mickey asked as the ground underneath the machine yawned open and swallowed the preteen android.

***

Proto Man fell for approximately three and a quarter seconds before he crashed down against what felt like marble. With a dull thud, he landed on his knees and toppled onto his right shoulder before he could fully process the situation.

“Ugh,” the android groaned as he righted himself and made it to his feet. Around him, he spotted a collection of unfamiliar faces, and just a few yards ahead, he spotted the translucent visage of a withered old figure starting at him. “You could have sent me an electronic mail.” The red robot muttered as he brushed from of the marble dust from his kneecap.

As Proto Man listened, the floating head explained that he was a hero known as Teucer. He went on to say that he’d been cursed by a warlock and required several artifacts to free himself. He added that he’d personally selected the heroes and was looking for more as they spoke. Someone expressed some dissatisfaction with being picked, which seemed to confuse the disembodied hero for a moment.

After listening to the exchange, Proto Man walked a few paces away and tried to access the Dataverse. He wanted to run a few queries on this Teucer fellow, but for some reason, he found himself unable to connect to the wifi.

Scratch that… There just aren’t any connections.

It was that revelation more than anything that made Proto Man scowl as he took a few steps back toward the floating head.

Six artifacts? I mean, I guess it could be worse.

[Moon]

Right, then. Gnostic and their crew should be here soon, and this adventure of theirs was going to begin. He'd already knocked, and heard a muffled "Coming!". The footsteps got nearer, but something wasn't quite right. He seemed to be sinking into the ground a slight bit. Grabbing his sword in anticipation, he glanced about, and then he was in midair. He drove his sword into the edge of the hole, holding on for as long as he could, but eventually, he let go.

---

Ow.

Jupiter got to his feet quickly, looking around in a bit of a panic, but... Well, he wasn't where he started off, that's for sure. He was in some temple, filled with what looked to be Primes. He recognized the one in red. That was the one that banished Gilgamesh, yeah? The few others weren't as familiar. There were three. A strange robot thing that looked like it was ripped straight out of Transformers, and two somewhat-normal looking women.


There in the center, though, was a... ghost? Come on, really? Why ghosts? And it seemed to be approaching. It introduced itself as Hero Teucer, and explained the situation. He'd chosen him, as well as a few others, to put him to rest for good. A warlock had cursed him, turned him into a ghost. There were six relics tying him to this world. Once found and given, he would give the champion who brought all six back one of them, and that would be that.


Interesting concept, really. But how would he fight Guardians, if he could hardly fight at all? It was certainly a mystery. But he didn't have much of a choice, really. So he tried to contact Gnostic and co., telling them he couldn't make it. No signal. Son of a bitch. Whatever, it was aight. Just have to stay out of fights as much as possible, and he'd be done. "...Right then. I think I understand," he said, with a nod.

Things were about to get hairy.

[Victor Wolfe]

Before he could ride through the portal he felt his horse disappear and a sensation of falling, Victor wondered what foul trick was the smiling one trying to play on him. His plans would have to be delayed as, for now at least, playing along was probably the best bet. The falling sensation was brought to an abrupt end, just managing to save face with a roll.

Looking around the area he noticed a large statue of an unknown woman, probably a saint or some sort of god, “she must have been important if such a large temple was built in tribute to her" the assassin thought. "If our god was that pretty I may have been more inclined to believe" Victor laughed to himself.

Noticing the spirit for the first time Victor approached and listened to his speech, his curiosity peaking at the mention of artefacts. "Well if you were looking for someone with honour and valour you might have chosen the wrong person, however as the reward is more than satisfactory I think we have a deal I can get behind, besides I am sure I have an employer who would very much enjoy the study of an artefact, and I do owe him a favour. So all I have to do is gather these items through any means and you get free, and then I get my reward? Sounds simple enough. I look forward to seeing how this plays out spirit although just to make sure, this is not all some trap to get us to revive you and get you six powerful artefacts allowing you to then kill me is it?" Victor waited for a response.

[The Spirit]

The Spirit's smiling attitude quickly faded, his face frowned and his entire demeanor was more serious than before. He looked up at the young assassin and spoke with no emotion at all.

"It pains me to hear that you believe that I am not of noble intent. Does the noble name Teucer mean nothing to you? I helped save Greece and yet you believe I am the villain? Even if I play along with your assumptions, what says I could not kill you already. Please, all I seek is to be free from this curse of entrapment and eternal life. Let my spirit be free from this wretched palace."

The Spirit let out a melancholy sigh before going back to work. In a soft voice he mumbled to himself, "Two of the first people I pick and this is what I get."

[Jak Mar]

Jak felt a little strange and a little odd for seeing his father, Damas alive again here... in front of his face. The wastelander king stood and looked at Jak not believing what he is hearing. Jak is his son? Mar?!. The young man pulled out the same charm he had given his little son, Mar.. but that sad father-son moment too was interrupted.

Damas didn't have time to say goodbye to his "son"... as Jak was now gone from the Nexus.

Jak felt himself falling...falling..falling and stopping?

Jak caught himself before he hit the ground. He was filled with confusion, tension and anger all mixed up into one ball. The Seal of Mar was squeezed in his hands as he slipped it over his neck.

The skies were blue, to the point it almost made the eco warrior's eyes hurt. There was some sort of large statue of a taller but beautiful woman. Jak stopped to pay respects to the statue, remembering to pray to the Precursors to make sure his father was safe and he was as well. Protect Daxter and Torn..

If he was semi-religious, it would probably be now of all times.

Jak stepped forward as he eyed the spirit for the first time. The older figure's speech had almost reminded him of Samos's speech as a sage, maybe even part of his wise father's speech as well.

Jak heard the mention of artifacts and remained quiet for a second and speaking up "Dante's Abyss was the last time I heard of artifacts and so many people had to die for that..."

"Spirit, I may not be the type of hero you are exactly looking for, but you remind me distinctively of someone I know.."

Jak made sure not to eye Victor, who he got a glimpse of earlier.

[Mickey Mouse]

Suddenly the Endless Dunes were a little bit emptier.

Don’t panic.

“Blues...?” A moment passed, little more than a breath. Silence lingered in the air as it had the entire way from Nippur, but this time, the familiar sounds of Proto Man did not comfort the mouse. Sand crunching beneath robotic feet, the occasional mechanized sigh: all absent.

“…BLUES!”

You’re panicking.

He had little time to dwell on his companion’s sudden disappearance, however, before he met the same fate. He whirled around, hoping that perhaps the preteen machine had simply reappeared in another spot in this gosh-forsaken desert. Instead, a falling sensation greeted him, and where once a sweeping, arid landscape stretched out for miles, darkness crept in.

* * *

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

“This is no home for heroes.”

Mickey Mouse said those words merely seconds before Proto Man had plunged into nothingness. His big ears rang from the shock of hitting the ground—hard—but along with the sounds of bells came a fleeting memory of the sentence. Had he been in the right frame of mind, perhaps the irony would have dawned upon the mouse; as it were, the words meant absolutely nothing in the face of this latest trial.

His tiny, unusually frail form slowly unfurled. Gloved hands brushed the ground, attempting to discern without opening his eyes where exactly he’d landed. The floor beneath him felt… hard, though from the burning sensation emanating through his tiny skull, perhaps that much should have been obvious.

Hesitantly, he opened his eyes, but the tiny mouse could never have prepared himself for the site that lay before him.

Home.

In spite of whatever pain still lingered in his head, he pushed himself off the ground and stumbled to his feet. Finally, at long last, something seemed familiar. The ornate columns, the structures that surrounded him… Olympus Coliseum stood before his eyes, as regal and magnificent as he remembered it being before he’d left.

Left? His brain struggled to wrap itself around that idea. Why would he have ever left home? And where would he have gone? None of that made any sense. He glanced around him. Flashes of colors phased in and out of focus, but none of them looked like Minnie.

…what’s goin’ on? He thought, blinking several times to try and stop the pictures around him from wobbling quite so much. Before he could fully bring himself back to 100%, though, a voice beckoned him. The mouse swung back around—much too quickly—to see the figure that named himself Teucer standing before him. The mouse’s brow furrowed—who the heck was Teucer? And where was Hercules? Even the snide Hades, who never failed to greet newcomers to the Coliseum, was nowhere to be found. The spirit kept talking, talking, talking, and Mickey tried his best to absorb all the information—relics, his soul, Elysian Fields. They all seemed such foreign concepts to him, but then… everything seemed such foreign concepts to him all of a sudden.

Still, even in the midst of his confusion, the mouse knew a cry for help when he heard one.

“No need for a reward,” he muttered, almost to himself, though the man’s generosity certainly helped convince Mickey that he seemed worth helping. The mouse placed his gloved hands on his temples and squeezed ever so slightly, and at last, the figure of the warrior came into focus. The quest seemed noble, and easy enough to be sure—go out into the unknown, find six things, bring them back. No issues. Once he’d steadied himself, he’d be all ready to go.

He reached for his Keyblade out of habit, planning to unsheathe it in a grand gesture of his dedication to helping out, but something strange met him instead: emptiness. He glanced down, and sure enough, his weapon had gone missing. Panic snuck into his expression again, and slowly but surely something dawned on him:

This wasn’t the Olympus Coliseum.

He hadn’t left the Disney Realms. He’d been abducted. The Omniverse had almost completely departed his mind until this moment; but for the life of him, the King couldn’t understand how. After all, so much had happened. So much pain.

And now, this man had abducted him, too, just like Omni had, to do his bidding. He supposed that the man’s lack of tact and manners could be attributed to his desperation—certainly, the crop of heroes that he’d brought here, now that Mickey’s vision had become slightly less blurry, demonstrated that—but still, the little mouse thought that maybe he could’ve found a better way to get help. An embroidered invitation didn’t seem too far out of the scope of reason.

As it was, though, no one in the Omniverse seemed inclined to etiquette. Perhaps being royalty had spoiled him on that account. This was no home for heroes, indeed.

He glanced up at Teucer again.

What now?

[Ururu Kyuuei]

Ururu gave the spirit a disgusted look as she fell back on her haunches and nursed her aching head. She half reminded herself just going by the nature of the temple that this person- spirit was from an earlier time. Not that it assuaged anything closely relating to her anger. Again it was all about power. Just like the Shinobi. ‘Give me what I want and I’ll give you strength.’

What did it matter of family? Of love?

“If we free you, you’ll not be dead, you’ll return to the Nexus like the rest of us, the plaything of Omni.” She said with a barbed tongue, her words and tone smoldering heat in her heart. Her fingers curled into in fists before wiping what tears she had left from her eyes. Everything about this situation rang with the same idiocy of the mad god, only this one had hurt her far more than even Omni had.

There was no one left. He took them from her.

“If you’re even a Prime, if not… poof!” she said bitterly as her fist abruptly splayed wide for dramatic effect.

If he was a Secondary then there was no point, he wouldn’t even have met Omni before. In which case freeing him would mean his destruction unless he had been born a spirit. For that matter who knew? But by pointing out a potential weakness of likely everyone’s assumption she could at least take momentum away from the spirit’s attempts to direct them. From controlling them.

For the situation as a non-prime, what chance did he have of carrying out his offers unless he was born a spirit. Still, he had a rude awakening awaiting him. His torment would only just be beginning as every day he’d face true and total oblivion… Or if he failed to give her back what mattered most… she could end him.

The question was, did he even know?

[Minato Namikaze]

'You did very well, Kito.' Minato began. He held confidence in the young ninja, and could see a great deal of potential in him. 'But you need more experience.' his words carried a weighted truth with them. Kito knew this, and it had become apparent to Minato when they fought for the bells.

'But you're young,' Minato continued. He didn't want to dishearten his new genin subordinate. 'and I can't expect you to have too much experience.' Minato smiled warmly, planting his hand on top of Kito's head as the two walked. Kito nodded back to him, a stern look on his face.

'Yep, this boy definitely reminds me of Kakashi.' Minato thought to himself as a smile of embarrassment and nostalgia came over his face. 'Hey Minato...' Kito asked as the two stopped in the middle of the street. 'Yes?' the blonde replied as he turned to face Kito and the rather frustrated look. 'Your teleportation… It's linked to the seal on your Kunai right?' Kito mumbled his words, but Minato understood what he was asking. 'Yeah, it is. But I can also transfer it through touch.' The Fourth Hokage explained as Kito stared up at him and nodded. 'But. I've been-' Minato began before he realized he was no longer with Kito.

The sensation of falling. The ground beneath his feet being whisked away, gut dropping, and the undeniable feeling of motion. All of these things that Minato was usually in control of had now been relived of his authority. He was uneven, off balance, and worse, falling into a pitch black abyss. He had no Idea what was in store for him.

A few moments passed by before Minato's sudden stop. The floor was made of a smooth marble, at least that's what he thought it was. He was lying face first on it after all. Minato pushed himself up off of the ground, only to find the apparition of a blue man in front of him. Speaking to him. Minato was hesitant, he'd been taken without any regard to his thoughts in the matter and he didn't appreciate that. But he wasn't in any sort of position to make demands. He didn't have any other option but to listen to what this man had to say.

Minato was hesitant, and a little pissed, but he was respectful, and this spirit was definitely asking for help. Minato listened carefully as his kidnapper introduced himself and explained the situation. Relics and his soul, a warlock trapping his soul. Teucer was using terminology that Minto didn't understand. He knew about sealing jutsu, but the way this apparition was explaining it confused Minato, but he continued to listen to it's request.

'Please save me.' Were the last words that the spirit pleaded to Minato. The blonde had listened, and stood there, stone faced, staring up at the floating spirit. He stood there for a few seconds before a smile came over his face.

'Alright, I'll help you.' Minato smiled.

[Clownpiece]

“The Empire’s settlement, huh...” Somerled mumbled to himself, his heart slowly accelerating from Connor’s explanatory add-on. Over so many centuries he had tread on the soils of so many empires. The number of these that he could still look back on fondly and maybe wish to visit again, were none. Time and time again had these voyages and vacations ended in violence and bloodshed, and experience dictates that this time would be no different. Engines roared as Connor took off, into the city beyond, and with a quick snap of the reins, hooves clicking on the concrete beneath them, Somerled was heading onward as well.

“We can survive an empire,” the ever-calm voice of his other half whispered encouragement. “We’ve done so before.” The last words spoken as Somerled’s vision lurched forward, brown behemoth beneath him fading away into nothing. Before the monster could let out so much as an expletive, he fell through the ground, into a blackness beyond. All his rationality yelled that he should have hit the ground by now, while his very being screamed to him that he was still falling. His senses gave no indication either way. No wind rushed past his ears, the void around him eerily silent. The same void that encompassed his vision with nothing, no ground nor sky anywhere. Then, with all the rapidity that it had come with, it vanished.

Brilliant white jolted into Somerled’s vision, the sky above shifting from what could best be described as nothing, into a beautiful marble ceiling. Eyes wandered across the architecture above, as the spirit lay there, trying to process what had just happened. Sitting up as abruptly as he had landed, Somerled began gazing around this new landscape. It was what could only be described as a marvel of Mediterranean engineering. Magnificent white marble pillars surrounded him, holding the ceiling high above. Though whatever lay beyond those pillars was obscured, a thick layer of fog blocking it. And at the center of it all stood the statue of a hunter, bow in hand and quiver on her back. Somerled’s mouth shot open, already upturned in a wide grin, as he prepared to make an incredibly inaccurate statement.

“Greetings Champion.” A new voice beat him to the punch, and his gaze was back to the front in an instant, breath catching in his throat. Breath that was immediately released once the monster realized there wasn’t a threat. The face and form of an old apparition sort of hovered in front of him, and either not noticing or not acknowledging his little startle there, it sprung into its tale.

An old hero known as Teucer, whose name rang a bell in the spirit’s halved little mind. He thought it might have something to do with an Ajax. That thought was rather short lived however, the monster cutting off the train there. The Romans all had such fancy names, he just couldn’t be bothered to remember them all. “...but that evil warlock cursed my soul onto six relics that you must retrieve for me.”

Somerled’s half-assed listening and mental rambling was brought to a screeching halt by that sentence alone. His breath caught in his throat once again, and now his full attention was focused on the apparition as he spoke. The blue spirit then immediately jumped into an explanation of what the monster must do. To his ears, it felt as though the voice slowly got further and further away, being overshadowed by the racing of his heart.

“Please save me.” With a plea for help, his introduction was wrapped up. Somerled’s mouth hung open stupidly, his face pale, then, almost out of nowhere, his voice exploded into existence.

“A soul! Split int- in two! No, six!” he stuttered, mouth turned up in an ecstatic grin, with a voice much louder and faster than it needed to be. “Split and put into two, no, two uh, six, bodies! Wait, relics!” though the monster couldn’t feel it, his body shook. “A split done by a mage, magician, warlock, sorcerer, whatever the fuck!” He sprung to his feet, trying his best to stand still, but never ceased his wobbling. He brought his arms up slightly and cast a glance down at them, finally noticing the shaking. “Yes, I...” he trailed off, vision blurring. Arms shot up, giving a quick wipe to his eyes, and fell back to his side immediately. His head turned back up, meeting the Spirit’s gaze. “Erm, sorry,” the monster issued an apology with a small cough, shifting about uncomfortably, composure all but gone. A few moments passed, longer than he was used to taking, but Somerled’s back straightened up, and though he still shook, he stood with confidence. “I will do everything in my power to get those relics back together.” Once again, his voice was strong and level.

[Victor Wolfe]

"Why No I do not recognize the name, nor do I know what this Greece that you speak of is , it may be that our worlds were different and thus your heroics never existed in mine, besides I have met many people that would call themselves heroes but are total frauds. In fact here is one now!" Victor turned towards Jak Mar the failure of a mercenary with a vindictive glare in his eye

"So Mr.Mar I see you have recovered from that little accident you had, that is nice. I just thought I would let you know that your contract with me is finished and I will not need you for any more "help"" Victor laughed " You see your rodent caused quite the little problem for my employer and I , it lead to my death and I have not had the chance to vent some frustration since then. However in the spirit of things I will not start anything here after all it would be a true shame to ruin this lovely temple, but just know if I find you whilst looking for these artifacts , I am going to have a lot of fun" Victor laughed. " Also did you find your little friend, he was not looking good after what happened ?" Victor awaited Jak's response with malicious glee, if they did meet Victor wanted him to go all out and if taunting him before hand was the way to get that done he would take pleasure in the verbal sparring. " For all I know a buzzard may have decided to grab a wounded bright orange snack in the sand , it would not be the only thing that wants to rip him apart" said the assassin still smiling maliciously.

Victor looked around to see if he recognized any of the other entrants and screamed internally when he noticed the robot , the one that had banished his employer . He would have liked to have given the same speech to him but after seeing the footage on the dataverse he was fully aware of how out matched he would be, no matter how much he wanted him dead. There was a ninja girl and an older women both seemed to be having there own qualms about the event.

[Jak Mar]

Jak simply ignored the ignorant assassin named Victor Wolfe trying to stir up anger in front of the Spirit. Instead, Jak focused internally as he started to summon a brownish glossy armor, the same armor his father had given him, the same armor the great hero, Mar wore. Every detail counted in this summon. As the pieces fell, Jak caught them and started to slip on Mar's armor piece by piece. It gave him a brownish glow almost.

He slipped on the armor. After he was finished, his glare landed on Victor. Jak's snark was growing and he wasn't going to turn down a word fight. "At least I can compare to Mar, a great hero in my land. Can you say that, Vic? He simply hissed those words. If I was a failure like you say I was, I wouldn't be here in your face right now, would I not?

The second he mentioned Daxter, he was quiet. "None of your business, assassin. "

[Okor]

Massive pauldrons, their corroded surface dripping with foul effluence, pushed past the gaudily-clad crowds. Each thundering footstep shook the earth, plumes of dust accompanying the Plague Marine’s every step. Merchants and audience alike parted before him, laboured breath echoing inside his rusted helmet as a murky eye swivelled through its corrosive atmosphere of toxins, a rotten perception looking upon the huddled masses as they attempted to surreptitiously avoid the monster in their midst. A child dawdled, extending a singular pudgy finger towards the advancing hulk, only to be forcibly dragged back into the crowd by an attendant mother. The abomination they had once bet on, cheered along, and praised on the field of battle was now an object of scorn and fear. A rotten tongue ran across similarly pestilential fangs as he relished in the palpable aura of terror emanating from the mortals that made their lair in this detestable realm. Claws twitched as they went to the decrepit rope at his waist, seeking out the ivory crown that he had stolen, the bone key to the Orcish Tribes’ loyalties.

A rusted gauntlet closed around the regal regalia’s position, clenching around empty air where there should have been the precious artifact. Slowly turning his ancient visage towards that which he took for granted, a fury began to build within the holy terror. That which was his had been stolen, robbing him of the glory he so desperately sought. A list of suspects ran through the rotten remnants of his mind, his inexorable advance down the cobbled streets halted to address this crime. The Bandit? Unlikely. They wouldn’t take something non-weaponized as a trophy, from what he’d seen, not to mention their state at the end of their battle. That left those who had access to his damnable prison. The apothecaries. They were wholly creatures of Camelot, and there was no doubt in his mind that such a despicable kingdom would accept the poor excuses for Eldar amongst their midst. His crown must have been moved to The Tangled Green ahead of him, delivered right into the frail hands of the Elves. A murderous chuckle seeped from his antique armour, as he began to move. He could smell the blood on the wind, feel the call to battle pulsing through his veins. A black smile opened up, jagged fangs hollowed and filled with parasites protruding from a veritable sea of corruption, the undeniable call to Destiny puling him-

Down.

The street vanished as Okor’s next step took him into oblivion, an endless dark consuming his foot and forcing him into the abyss. There was no wind to offer resistance, no tempest to drown out his strangled scream as he plummeted, forced back only by his pride. In truth, the only evidence that he was falling would be his horizontal posture, and the migration of his organs (And accompanying parasites) towards his back, distending the papery flesh with their bulk.

He was not given much time to ponder his current situation, as a marble plane extended before him, rapidly filling his vision as armour and flesh alike turned into a virulent sludge, bones and ceramite dissolving into the slime as consciousness abandoned him in favour of survival.

With a splat, a deluge of what could charitably be called sewage landed on the pristine floor, spraying itself against the immaculate pillars due to the force of the landing. After a moment of pause, enough to allow the corruption to begin to drip from the archaic architecture, it began to flow to the central mass at the end of his terminal drop, the necrotic form of Okor slowly rising from the filth. Sparkles of Omnillium accompanied his rebirth, solidifying and locking his form as his twisted horn crested the lip of the corruption, gnarled fingers grasping at the edge, pulling the heretical horror from the primordial nothingness from which he returned to.

[Victor Wolfe]

Victor snorted in laughter at the mercenary trying to make himself seem superior,he waited for a moment pretending that the comment had silenced and defeated him " well lets just see about that shall we , I am a damn good assassin having killed thousands of targets for my empire , I then through careful planning almost managed to cause a rebellion that would kill the king and prince allowing me to fake my own death and then bring the army back to secure the nation allowing me to become emperor if only they had not changed the escape route system . meanwhile you boast about how you can be compared to someone who I am guessing is your father? The only people who ever used to boast about their family where snot nosed pompous noble brats that solved every issue by running to their daddy crying about how the mean assassin called them an inbreed cretin that if I were not hired to protect them would probably have choked due to forgetting how to breathe!" Victor filled his words with venom.

"You see Jak I do not need someone to compare my achievements too , because every achievement or record my predecessors as royal assassin set I beat, I would feel pathetic living off the glory of another mans legacy. If you would have used your own achievements that argument may have went a bit better for you but its a bit late for that now, don't take it to heart though , you might get another hole in your chest" Victor burst out in laughter.

[Jak Mar]

Jak eyed Victor for a second and frowned "You hardly know my life, Victor. You may have become emperor but through dirty methods. I'd say myself that you and me are A LOT alike. For you see, you dirty your hands killing thousands. My dark form had taken tons of life, yet I've still had to pay the price for it. You say Daxter's to blame for Nippur? I heard Law made quick work of you as well. We all pay the price sometimes..."

I'm NOT a hero, I'll give you this and ONLY this. In my book, I'd be more of the anti-hero. I've worked with a mob boss in every city who either wants to blow up said world or poison me and my friends. I was able to take out enemies almost twice your size and yet I seemed to survive that with little to no problems. I've worked with Wastelanders who'd leave you to die in the desert. I've had to fight over lava. I've taken SHIT about all the times i've saved the world, and yet I don't lash OUT about it.

And yet you have the gall to mock my FATHER of all people? You are wrong. I'm no damn prince. I'm Damas's son. A warrior, a hero and damnit a wastelander.

[Victor Wolfe]

"Oh I wasn't mocking your father I am sure he was a great man, explaining you, he took all the genetic greatness leaving you as the overly trusting mess that you are." Victor snarled “and quick work? I got rid of what appeared to be there leader and then was gunned down from behind accepting my death to allow more time for civilians to escape, whilst the last I saw of you was getting shot through the chest by a low ranking solder because you did not make sure he was dead before letting down your guard!"

"And you worked with people who would leave you to die in a desert? Have you ever met any nobility , everyone from the highest ranking despots to lowly barons are willing to cause you to have an "accident" just so they don't need to pay you or so that the last loose end in whatever sick act they were having me cover up is buried. And then there are the other assassins I had to work with, all who wanted my rank as top assassin in the empire .You have no idea what it is like to know that every single person you meet probably could find a way to benefit from your death, otherwise you would not have lowered your guard so quickly” Victor laughed sarcastically.

“Also smell the hypocrisy you say you don't lash out about it yet that is apparently what you are doing right now? HA, and I see what you are doing, please stop comparing us. You are a failed experiment, I am the height of training in my time, you are a murderer who has suffered and paid the price for your crimes, I am an assassin who was well rewarded for doing his job multiple times, and I am good at my job whilst you are a failure." Victor walked away feeling the tension in the air causing his hairs to stand up on edge, if they did fight he was sure it would be a good one.

He turned noticing the pile of sludge reforming into another one of his old opponents another internal scream was had remembering how out classed he was in their last fight. And apparently the space marine had obtained even more new powers, it would probably be a very bad idea to try and pick a fight with him, besides he did receive an email from the headmaster and apparently Mr.Paleblood was also a member of the institute. Things were going to get interesting.