I Can't Stand Myself

[Tearen Wover]

Flame and ashes. Nealaphh rose from its...his? His position on the ground next to Red Hood, the human Prime he had been fused with just a few minutes ago. Nealaphh, still clutching the Chidori Blade, glanced around at the flickering devastation in every direction before tossing the black blade at Red Hood's feet.

Take it. It is of more use to you.

Red looked down at the jagged sword then back up at Nealaphh, who was already walking away.

"Wait...are you serious? What about what we're doing next?" Jason half-shouted as Nealaphh stumbled across the smoldering swath of gravel that had once been a bustling village.

Do what you want, Jason.

Nealaphh approached the decrepit ruins of what used to be...some kind of structure. With weak inclinations of his head, Nealaphh began to pluck the large slabs of obsidian and granite out of the dust and cobble them back into some sort of coherent structure. There was only one thing to do. He needed to help the Gorons rebuild their village, using every ounce of Omnilium he had been storing to build the Institute headquarters. He didn't even know where any of the other Primes were. Okor was, at this point, likely still drifting around the Astral realm, and Colonel was no where to be seen in the aftermath of the battle. Did he even have a real Institute? How accurate had Darunia been when he chided Nealaphh on his joke of an organization.

A joke.

A fucking.

Joke.

Nealaphh clutched its smooth head and drove it into the side of the building it had just been reconstructing. A shrill, grinding shriek echoed across the psychic medium as the god-mind struggled to control the rampant cognition ricocheting around its damn consciousness. There was so much...there were too many things. Too many gods damned things that it couldn't let himself think about.

Planets folding in on themselves.

Stop.

Scything its way through flocks of angelic protectors.

Stop it.

Driving a sharp, crystal spike through the forehead of Kuolema, in front of her own followers.

Stop it now!

Stop!

Nealaphh flattened the hovel it had been reconstructing with the fling of hand, sending the rubble flying in all directions. All the painful memories of its inhuman transgressions forced Nealaphh to his knees, sinking into the whipping dust and rocking slowly side to side. The green lights that represented eyes on its face flickered on and off, like a faulty neon sign as the memories and emotions screamed at each other. It wasn't right. A God-Mind was a master of their own cognition, not a slave to errant...

...errant...

All of the pain. And he hadn't even cared. Who would know? Who would need to know? What people didn't know would never hurt them; those with the information were the ones in the position of power.

Oh but what a fool it had been. The truth was not what ruined the resolve of Titans, it was the transgressions that doomed them in the first place. The damage had already been done.

STOP IT.

Nealaphh wanted to rage. It wanted to destroy, do anything to release the emotions inside of it. But the destruction had already been wrought, already out of its own hands, if however vicariously. Nealaphh could feel eyes upon it. The eyes of the others. Demetri. Miranda. Zack Fair and Gildarts watching from a ridge overhead. What would they think, seeing Nealaphh like this? These were not the mannerisms of a god, cradling itself in the black, ashen filth of a manufactured volcano. Another psychic scream. Nealaphh threw its head back and tried to shout out for real, to have a real voice. Pain tore at the sides of its mouth, and telekinetic panic whipped the winds of the decimated plain into frenzy, stoking the fires of Volvagia back into malevolent reverie.

Cracks began to appear at the edges of its face, splintering and stretching open as a haggard, broken glass maw rent itself apart on Nealaphh's otherwise smooth visage. For the first time in the Omniverse, Nealaphh had a voice, whose first act was to unleash a scream so deep and pain-wracked that all those who heard it would freeze in their tracks. The pain inside was too much to hold inside any longer. Crystalline fingers drifted to its left shoulder, and with a rending crack, the god-mind? ripped its own onyx arm out of its socket. Glittering ferrous blood gushed from the stump as the screaming continued.

A vision of a thousand jackal humanoids staring up at it in horror as it descended gleefully. Their pain had been delicious, but eons later, left only a sour taste that consumed Nealaphh's every thought.

Fondling and crawling over the hapless form of Nixilea, its ciliac feelers infiltrating her very flesh and tattooing the sigils of the enigma onto her craving skin. Just another pawn for The Master. Hatred. So very much hatred.

Dimly it was aware of someone telling him to stop, someone screaming for Nealaphh to calm down even as the psychic wind in the clearing roared faster and faster. A gloved hand tried to restrain the god-mind? from hurting itself further. The intruding appendage was summarily snapped with a mental wrenching and the intruder into Nealaphh's vortex of torment was flung away.

Dimly it was aware of pulling the second of its banishment circles out of its Omnilium reserves and holding it high against the sanguine-bruised sky. Someone screamed at it to stop. Too late. Nealaphh tore the purple glyph open and let the malicious magic pour over its tormented form. The world swirled and pitched at an angle. Butterflies swirled in its vision as the Ashen Steppes seemed to be sucked out of its own head. Nealaphh could feel itself being pulled in a direction. Not down, but out. Out into the place it deserved to be.

LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE.

...and then the shadow was gone.

Nealaphh gave the Chidori Blade to Red Hood.
Nealaphh committed Suicide and Banished itself to the Underverse.

[Red-Hood]

Shocked would be an understatement of what Jason was feeling. He tried to scream to the God mind to stop his self mutilation but the being either didn't hear or didn't care. He watched with dismay as he watched the only being that knew his true identity, a secret that he had been taught to hold with such care, disappear before his eyes. 

After several more more moments, slowly Jason picked up his helmet and placed it on his head, next he striped once more to pick up the blade, the last gift the mighty Nealapph had given him. 

Red Hood had witnessed the power it held and smiled slightly as he unsheathed it for a moment, watching pure energy arc off the blade.  Red snorted as he looked at the place the God-mind and once been. He felt the empathic towards the great ones pain. His desire to help these people by banishing a thorn in their side. He had succeed, but at what cost? 

Still he was a coward. There was still work to be done and if he had cared he would have realized that, but now he was gone. Off to the same place the great dragon had been sent, to battle until his untimely demise. 

Red Hood slung the sword over his shoulder before turning to leave. He had no place, no purpose. The only place he had truly been content was Camelot, his new home.

[Tearen Wover]

"Where does everyone think they're going?!"

The shrill sound came from out of the clouds, as two, glinting polygons (a tetrahedron and a cube tipped on its side) descended from the clouds. Most if not all people gathered, aside from Demetri, would have no idea who the entities were, but that was perfectly fine. They were more than happy to introduce themselves.

"We are Klee and Shen, and we serve as the Headmaster's backup consciousness. It seems the God-Mind had a bit of a breakdown, so I guess that puts us in charge of the Institute until it gets back." the Tetrahedron said, glimmering with a blue internal light every time it uttered a phrase.

"You guess, Klee? You mean it does put us in charge. We share every memory and thought that the Headmaster possessed, and boy did it have plans!" said the cube, blinking red. 

A few of the gathered Primes looked up at the floating crystals with resentful, bleary eyes.

"Starting with you, Miranda Frost! Nealaphh promised to help you with your memory problems, and we are more than capable of helping you on that journey!" Klee said.

"Indeed! And all of you here have a standing invitation to join the ranks of the Omniverse Institute. You've more than proven you are willing and capable of creating great change in this Omniverse. We would be honored to have you as part of our team!"

A silent, doleful wind whipped through the ruins of the Goron village, punctuating continuing silence of the assembled Primes. Klee made an internal grimace. Were these people warriors or not? Shouldn't they be jubilant after having slain one of the greatest monsters in the Omniverse? Apparently the Aspects were going to have to step up their recruiting game immediately. Shen got working on a Dataverse post while Klee continued to address the Primes who were still alive.

"At any rate, we can give you people something to do until you figure it out for yourselves. Just let us know! We're pretty patient."

Not really, actually, but Klee would say whatever was necessary to further The Plan...

[The Rogue]

The battle between the Arch Dragon and his comrades passed quickly for Connor. He was busy trying to save villagers, even going as far as personally saving a little less than maybe half of the families that were trapped in the burning settlement. He was about to go back into the blaze, prepared to pull out more Gorons. Suddenly one large male pulls Connor back as the Arch Dragon collapses on to the village.

“Woah! Ágios Merdē! Gratias!”, Connor exclaims while accidentally switching to his language of birth. However, before continuing his gratitude Connor stops in order to comprehend the travesty that happened before his eye. The loss of so much life his him like a train. Connor falls to his knees and goes completely numb.

[Demetri Malius]

It took a few moments after the thief had managed to barely block the blow that Volvagia had thrown at him before he felt the sickness in his stomach. With a stumble, he made his way forward before coughing up more blood. He had taken quite a hit, and it would be all too difficult to land another blow. The thief leaned his ashen hand on a nearby towering rock as he clutched his side, staring off into the swirling fire and dust that seemed to combine and become one. Demetri could not help but watch as the others gave the final push, cheering them on in his own mind while he continued to spit up blood. With one hand he attempted to heal the unseen injuries below his charred leather armor, but it was a slow process, and if anything it only numbed the pain enough for it to be bearable. As his fuzzy mind became a bit clearer, he could just make out the final moments of the battle. The fiery presence of Volvagia quickly became a smoldering dead wyrm, and a grin fell upon the thieves face behind his unkempt facial hair as Nealaphh hovered beside the fallen wyrm's body, the Goron chief beside him.

"Creator, I believe the battle had ended in Victory, even against the odds. We have won."

A hoarse chuckle escaped the thief's mouth as he fell back onto the floor, a soft sigh escaping his lips. "A good time to rest then while the others decide what to do with the mess we have just made."

"Well, an entire village was destroyed."

"A shame."

"And the Gorons will probably never be the same."

"A shame as well."

"But now we no longer have a giant flaming wyrm tyhat is threatening to enslave everything in the Ashen Steppes, especially the Gorons."

"And they should be thankful, freedom always comes at a price. I only wish that they had the medical technology in order to aid my aching sternum. DO you think they can fix anything other than piles of rocks?"

"I don't believe so."

"Then a shaaame to it all. "

The thief flung his arms up before resting them behind his head, the mechanical laughing whirrs of his robot aide soothing his mind. 

"Perhaps that alchemist would appreciate some samples of the fiery beast, Creator?"

"You are disturbing my rest darling, but... I suppose we should take samples of the little bits that managed to not get banished with the rest of it."

The thief grunted as he struggled to sit up, finally making it to his feet before waltzing over to the remains of the dragon that the heated wind had not yet carried away.  With a swift hand, the thief bent over and snatched up a sharred flake of what used to be Volvagia's seemingly impenetrable scales. He softly let the piece fall into one of his many leather pockets on his satchel, before raising his hands to stretch soon after, but a sharp pain in his side interrupted him. Still not quite healed yet.

It was then that he heard the commotion. Rocks erected in the distance, worried shouts and panicked voices could be heard through the air. Demetri quickly turned to see some dust from rising rocks in the village.  Even from here, Demetri could see that the God-Mind was troubled. He began to jog forward, hoping to be able to help, until he saw the swirling green of the God-Mind injuring himself.

"Headmaster?" Demetri called out as he began to sprint, his aching feet slamming against the glowing cracks and rocks under him.

"He is injuring himself, he is taking heavy damage. We must get to him Creator, amping up your speed."

With each elongated step, Demetri burst forwards, trying to sweep across the gap in order to reach the Prime, but just as he arrived he saw another flash of light as Nealpahh started to banish itself.

"Headmaster! I will not allow you to-" He spoke as he took a final dive forwards, attempting to tackle the God-Mind, flying through the air before grasping at nothingness. The thief slammed against the unfinished home that the headmaster was attempting to build, gasping for air as the wind was knocked out of him. Connor was on his knees, eyes wide, though his gaze also swept across the remains of the village. Red Hood stood with a look of disappointment. WWith a shake of his head the Prime that had fused with the headmaster to take down the beast turned and began to walk back out of the battleground. All while Demetri simply pounded his fist into a rock wall, grunting in pain before leaning himself against it.

Were the casualties really that bad?Was it all not worth the pain and the sacrifice. Long ago had Demetri learned that sometimes you have to lose some to win some. The greater the prize the more sacrifices to be made. Whether it was time, money, or even someone's life. Perhaps the Headmaster was far more human than he led everyone to believe. However, just then, he realized the two secondaries that the God-Mind had left behind, Klee and Shen. The ones that had retrieved the hard drive of IRIS back in the Tangled Green for him.

"Perhaps we should see if we can help in any way before we return to the guild, Creator?"

With a sigh, the thief replied in a hished tone. "Perhaps. I am still in shock of the headmaster banishing himself to the depths of the underverse, has there not been any survivors of such a place?"

"None that were recorded..."

"I can only hope that the God-Mind is stronger than those that have attempted, but for now, I suppose we should inquire as to what aid we can offer."

The thief than straightened himself up as he walked over to the two secondaries, both floating about as they appeared to try gathering everyone up for the Insitute.

"Klee, Shen. I still consider myself ally to the institute, and although the headmaster may be off in the depths of hell, I wish to help however I am able. Is there a tasks suitable to my skill that either of you have in mind?