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SHIN MEGAMI TENSEI

DIGITAL DEVIL SAGA

i n t e r t w i n e d

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Introduction --->

The story begins after the events at Ground Zero, during the time of which Harley, the leader of the Vanguards, maintains a struggle battle with the Embryon, despite his noticeable lack of manpower. While the two weaker tribes vie, the Brutes and the Wolves are continuously at work attempting to conquer each other. Meanwhile, the Maribel and the Solids have found themselves fighting on stalemate territory. We follow Artemis, Apollo, and Rem in their struggle amongst tribal affairs and the Junkyard's desire to conquer all and rise to Nirvana, a place rumored to be of magnificent splendor and ecstasy. The inhuman abilities and deepest desires of these three will be uncovered with time, and they, like many others, will morph with personalities and traits. Be warned, however. This story contains graphic material including rape/sex, violence, severe profanity, and other things that might not be suitable for the general audience.

"Shin Megami Tensei" and "Digital Devil Saga" © 2004 Atlus. All characters, terms, and locations are property of Atlus USA. All rights reserved.

Main Characters --->

Artemis: A broad, gruff man that was once a part of the Vanguards prior to their inopportune destruction after the light appeared at Ground Zero. After the event occurred, he destroyed his own tag ring and sought out to venture aimlessly across the Junkyard, searching desperately for answers regarding his new-found demon power and absurd hunger for flesh. His atma is a horned dragon's head depicted from the side, located on his right shoulder.

Rem: A bubbly young woman who is well-influenced by the rules designated by the Karma Temple. She was a part of an unnamed tribe a while back before it was conquered by the Brutes, and she willingly joined them and followed Varin Omega just as is stated in law. Although not noticed as a fighter, she acts more like a commoner in the tribe. Her atma, located just above her navel, is a mouthed pyramid with feathery wings on each side.

Apollo: A noble and powerful man who, like Artemis, was a part of the Vanguards before its destruction. After the appearance of the light, he left for the strongest tribe, the Brutes, in hopes of conquering the others and entering Nirvana. Strongly influenced by order and self-preservation, he continues to follow the Karma Temple's rules to a pinpoint, just so long as he is pleased in the process. His atma is a fanged lion head located in the heart of his right palm.

Intertwined: Part 1 --->

An odd sound permeated the still silence of the vast territory. It was airy and light, but it echoed powerfully with noticeable nobility. A warning bell was being called out to the members of the base, reaching the ears of every individual within the complex. Instantly, they decided to take action: many readied their weaponry, firearms prominently, and began taking severely defensive maneuvers. However, as instantaneous as the warning alarm began, it slowly dulled out to another sense of normality, silence. Some of the humans looked towards their well-clothed comrades in query, but they did not speak. Instead, they lowered their firearms and proceeded to fish themselves back towards a serene designation. Indeed, the warning bell was sudden, but it was as if these people — the people of blue, the Brutes — were unaffected by its sudden disperse. It appeared that the majority of the tribe felt that the people of gray, the Wolves, had sent a small force to their grounds in hopes of sabotage, but they must have been easily silenced. It was the only explanation, or, at least, the only good one. Truthfully, those that speculated this were right, and, as expected, they were readying a medium-sized squadron to be sent towards the Wolves' zone in retaliation.

Approximately a hundred of the stronger individuals of the Brutes were sent to assemble out in the clearing of Ajna, their territory, just in front of the massive structure they deemed their stronghold. They were each outfitted with their weapon of choice and fed expansive orders from one of Varin's close supervisors. Apparently, if someone was interested enough to eavesdrop (despite the fact that the leader was loud enough to probably be heard all the way over in Svadhisthana), they would acquire the information that the squad was given permission to kill all they came in contact with, save for Lupa, who would be captured and dragged back to Ajna. Immediately, there was a large rally of voices, grunts, and noises of hunger. Recently, everyone it seemed had been branded with a strange object on their flesh, and they had been overcome by an extensive desire for flesh. If stimulated, the mark would enflame and a glorious light would snake itself in ribbons across the user's body, forcing them to transform into a "demon." Varin suspected it was only the Brutes to whom this had happened, and he figured that it would be the best trump card to scorch the Wolves once and for all.

As that group was being rallied, things were partaking elsewhere. Beyond the doors that led to this area was a small area that Varin called a 'restoration point.' Basically, it held a vendor, who would supply ammunition and items so long as the buyer had a tag ring, and a large Karma Terminal, which also required a tag ring. The Karma Terminal located there had the ability to restore the body for Macca, their currency, and allowed individuals to purchase mantras, which were special abilities that could be learned after devouring enough demons. Both were highly active due to the Brutes, but it was usually commoners that frequented the area. Among these commoners was a young woman named Rem. She was lithe compared to the rest of the Brutes, which almost instantly denoted the fact that she was once a part of a different tribe. It was small and weak, full of helpless rookies that knew nothing of the ways of the Junkyard, and it was foolish enough to pass by Brute territory. Their self-appointed leader was slaughtered instantly, and the tribe was then forced to succumb to the law: all members of a defeated tribe must then unquestionably follow the leader of the tribe that defeated them.

Rem, herself, was not bothered by this law as it seemed to hold the most order. Willingly, she joined and became a Brute herself. She was without personality and emotion back then, as everyone else had been, but the recent appearance of the light seems to have altered her and given her life. Her face held more color than it usually had, a slight pinkness giving warmth to her otherwise dead lips and cheeks. Her hair was vivid and orange, bright like everyone else's hair color, with dark roots and yellowing tips. It was generally kept up in a small bobbed ponytail at the high back of her head, whereas her chin-length bangs were flat to the sides of her nicely rounded jawline. Though her eyes had been gray beforehand like everyone else's, they had begun to heat with a searing orange similar to her hair color after the light appeared, a small dark pupil dotted within each center. Thus initiated her personality's formation, like that of those around her. She had developed an odd expressionism called 'emotion' that no one could comprehend. People who knew her said that she was warm like the sun, but when asked what the sun was, they could barely reply.

Everyone had been undergoing such odd transformations recently that not a single person could explain. It had become natural to everything, like some law that existed this whole time that was barely recognized. Despite that, Rem had welcomed it without deep thought. She became what her entity wanted to become, and she felt that it was futile to resist it. Out in this restoration area, she was busy tending to the vendor to sell her collected cells, which were items that the Karma Temple was searching for. She had just made a reasonably pleasant profit when her exit of the enclosure prompted the opening of the nearby gate. A male stepped into the territory of Ajna, his appearance what this tribe called 'fresh.' He was a being once a part of the Vanguards up until the appearance of the light, from when he dismembered himself and ventured on foot to the Brutes, passing through Sahasrara to ensure that no other tribe would attack him. His body was well-built and broad, something that made Varin smile in pleasure, and one of the only reasons why he allowed the stranger to join. His features were handsome and sharp and he looked overall to be quite noble and clean.

The hair on his head was long and slightly curled, resonating a vibrant hue of yellow that gave him a near glow amidst the rainy and gray atmosphere of the Junkyard. Though his eyes, too, could alter in color, they were melancholy and gray at this point, initiating Rem to understand that some individuals could change their eye color manually, rather than spontaneously like herself. She rested her side against the small column that supported the building the vendor was situated in, watching the new member eye the area as though it was his first time in Ajna territory. He remained standing in that small corner while the doors closed behind him, and, upon realizing that he would not move, Rem found it safe to walk down the steps. She pulled upwards as the fabric of her uniformly skirt as her boots collided with a puddle of water, droplets splashing out, but not afflicting her clothes. Her hands kept the long skirt held up as she proceeded to make her way towards the courtyard area of Ajna, but, nearing the doors, she heard the loud clacking of a group of footsteps.

Apollo, the yellow-haired man, was intently watching her at this point, having picked up the sound of her walking when she first came down the steps. He was about to approach her when the other doors swung open and the rallied group of men marched out of Ajna, towards Wolven territory. There were numerous rows of the individuals, each with weapons loaded and ready for battle, and the front and the rear were held up by supervisors of Varin himself, as it seemed the leader was too important to risk in such a measly little squabble. As the long train of humans neared an end, several individuals who knew Rem called out to her as they passed, asking for luck (though most retaliated that they didn't need any with their newfound abilities) and questioning her on how she was feeling 'today.' The young woman could only respond feebly, seeing as the leader in the back was yelling at the frivolous young men that talked to her as the walked by, but a wave of acknowledgement from her tended to answer all of their inquiries. Each individual looked pleased as they exited Ajna's walls because of this.

Apollo watched as the remainder of them left and closed the doors heavily behind them, but his attention shifted immediately back to the spot where the woman was previous to the commotion, only to find that she had already left. His grayed eyes scanned the small area momentarily to confirm the fact that she was gone and, believing that she had left for the base, he headed towards the courtyard. Passing through the doors aided him in no way, for among those wandering about, he could not locate the bright-haired female the men called 'Rem.' He became anxious, an odd and fresh emotion, and breathed heavily as he made his way towards Varin's chambers in the mansion. The building itself looked eccentric to people, both on the inside and on the outside, for the interior was decorated with odd pictures and trinkets, and the building appeared to be made of digital images. Apollo, after stepping into the quarters, shook droplets of water off of his clothes over in the corner, spraying them onto the padded floor aimlessly. He wiped at the surface of his sleeves uncomfortably.

"Where have you been, sir?" asked a man standing at the top of the stairs on the right side, several of his comrades standing guard at the small balcony linked between the stairs. Apollo simply looked up towards the being that addressed him as 'sir' and folded his hands at the small of his back, a casual raise of his brows furrowing the flesh on his forehead.

"I was out near the Temple, but I returned because I saw the Wolves sending a group to infiltrate our base. Myself and a few others destroyed the small squadron before they could get near Ajna's walls," he responded, his fingers rubbing the gritty film left behind from dried blood on his palms, though his face retained a melancholy expression. "Is there a reason why you are asking me this?"

"Well, yes, sir. There is. The General requested your presence, but your absence has made him furious."

"What is furious?" Apollo questioned oddly, his hands delicately moving to the pockets in his pants, nestling the fingers within the crevices and letting his palms hang weakly from the outside. In response to his inquiry, the younger Brute (though his face was heavily covered by uniformly garbs) looked to have been brought aback, his lips parting suddenly. Indeed, he felt incapable of correctly answering Apollo's question, and thus turned to his comrades for aid. They, too, shrugged with incomprehension. The Brute turned back towards the bottom of the stairs, but the yellow-maned man was gone. He had already slithered under the stairwell and went through the northeastern door of the main hall, heading silently towards Varin's chambers. Only a few tribe members loitered in this section of the building, and even then it was usually only those with noticeable strength or (in)famous qualities. Several occupied rooms had their doors open with humans collaborating within, sometimes in small groups, or sometimes only single or in pairs.

However, as he closed the distance between himself and the leader, he began hearing a soft tone. It was odd, unlike anything he had heard before, and it seemed to draw him close to its existence like a moth to a flame. Enticed, he disregarded the turn towards Varin and continued heading north in the complex, locating the noise with pristine hearing ability. So oddly romantic? Was that the correct term for it? Whatever it was, it made his insides burn with a filling excitement similar to the feeling of content he received shortly after slaying and devouring a fellow demon. His pace did not quicken, but his sparked interest eagerly led him on down a random eastern hallway. The tune was muffled but heavy in the still air of this corridor, hidden beyond a closed door with a lone guard standing before it. Apollo approached the doorway, passing several richly-stained glass windows that surprisingly remained unbroken, unlike most of the mansion. The light feeding in from outside was cold, but that only made the warmth of the noise more apparent and filling. As he closed in, the guard lifted his covered head to the approaching man.

"I'm sorry, sir, but no one is allowed in this room," stated the blank-faced individual heavily, though it did little to throw off the other human's guard. He stopped in his tracks a few feet from the Brute, his cloak-like garb fraying against his legs and strong back weakly.

"Why is that?" he inquired.

"People tend to complain of heat and transform under mysterious circumstances upon direct contact with the noises inside. As such, it is highly advised that no being enters the girl's room while she is working with the object."

"Girl? Object? Explain," Apollo commanded of the Brute with a blank look on his face, though he was bothered by the teasing heated sensation in his belly. It was seething into his torso with alarming rate, almost similar to that of a poison, but not painful. He did not feel the need to lay down because of it; not at all. Surprisingly, the warmth only tended to make him feel more vibrant than usual, with an intense desire to be active or energetic. He folded his arms along his torso abruptly, bringing his heels together as he patiently awaited his comrade's response.

"A young female named Rem occupies this room. She has a strange object in her possession that emits the noise when stroked with a skinny, flat bow. Those that have witnessed her doing it describe her as moving very fluently while strumming the object in this manner:" he said with melancholy before lifting his arms. The left arm was held slightly bent out from his body, parallel to the floor, while the other hovered over it, flowing back and forth across his other arm. Apollo simply raised his brow questioningly of the other being, watching his motions with bewilderment and foreign appreciation. He attempted in his head, at that time, to envision the bright-haired woman performing a similar action, but did not find it pleasing (only due to the fact that the soldier in front of him was making himself look pathetic in comparison). In fact, despite the guard's warnings, he wanted to see this action for himself. He wanted to tame the heat that many had succumbed to in the past via her instrument.

"I'm sure that you have been settled here for quite some time. You should go take a break and tend to other things. I can keep watch here for a short while until another guard passes by," Apollo suggested, the short-sleeved arm of his that contained a bracer reaching out aimlessly in assurance.

"The Colonel will be furious if you do not explain your absence to him, sir. You should go visit him as soon as possible instead of taking over for me here. You are much more important."

"Do not be concerned. As a lieutenant, it is my job to ensure the proper working order of my subordinates. Your efficacy is 17.4 lower than it would be if you had rested momentarily. Please regard my suggestion and go restore yourself in the courtyard."

"Yes, sir. As you wish," the Brute saluted, his body reaching a relaxed state as he rushed past Apollo's large form and took exit towards the courtyard. Silently, Apollo tugged at the hem of his long sleeve and smoothed out the stiff fabric that bunched up at his inner elbow, taking a few steps forward to stand parallel to the wall abreast the door. He listened to the noises within the room, which were much more apparent and not as muffled now that he was so close to the double doors. The hymn ended abruptively for a few moments, as if the young woman inside was distracted by an outside source for a few seconds, but she reinitiated the strumming of the object after a few random notes permeated the hallway. As he rested there, listening to the nearly-muted noise, he looked intently at the padded floor, his eyes following the imprints of which heavy footsteps had recently left (most likely his own). He was so close to the noise that his inner heat felt unbridled, and despite how easily it ran rampant throughout his form, he desired more.

His grisly eyes scanned down the hallway and into the nearby main corridor, checking for human presence and activity. Seeing no one made him feel obliged to pry into the room he was denied access to earlier, and, quietly, he turned around on the toe of his right foot towards the crease between the doors. The cloak he wore over the shoulder of his right arm swayed in a flurry of rusted fabric as he stationed himself ominously before the doorway, his dominant hand reaching forth to grasp the closest handle. It was frigid to the touch, as if the door had not been disturbed in a very long time, but his momentary stillness managed to heat the cold metal to luke-warm consistency. His thumb pressed upon the lipped lock implanted above the handle, and he pushed the door in after hearing it click, a swell of light and frost encountering his body. As soon as his body came into contact with the noise, he began to break down.

Apollo loosened the grip he held on the handle as he felt his balance give out drastically beneath him. His vision swirled as he felt his body dipped in an incredible burning sensation, his joints creaking with aggravation as he stumbled about. The floor felt to have been moving of its own accord, pulling the soles of his boots out from beneath him. The atma in his palm surged with a raw yearn to take over the vessel, its pulsing 'heartbeat' resonating a bright golden aura about its perimeter, but he could not attentively acknowledge it. Before him, his vision swirled, but he could see a heavenly image of a lithe female strumming intently at the violin in her hands, performing a foreign orchestration of some tune that felt to have always existed. She swayed light on her toes, her boots tapping weightlessly with each short step to the padded floor, and the loose objects on her body moved in rhythmatic union.

This noise made his body swarm with desire and rage, his feet stumbling dizzily along the carpet towards her as his hands clutched viciously at the long locks atop his skull. He felt the need to rip his own scalp off, his limbs trembling ferociously with uncontrolled enthusiasm, but his mental control was strong and unwilling to give way as it had for other people. The way she quickly moved her fingers along the strings at the top of the long-necked object, and how the noise emanating from it changed drastically depending on where she placed them. Her body was as light as the air around her, bathed in the subtle glow that permeated the windows in the room, both broken and intact. So beautiful! Apollo struggled against his demonic desire to transform and wreck everything in the vicinity, but it was so apparent how enraged the massive animal was within him. His eyes gripped shut momentarily, his fingers grasping at his ears and temple, only to suddenly snap open.

A pupil had ripped itself past the gray layer in each eye, pulling away the skin to allow a flood of golden hue melt into the iris. It flashed dramatically with heated anger, and his newly uncovered eyes searched desperately around the room as the entire field of his vision was bathed in a shaky redness. He let out a yowling grunt as the heat overwhelmed his broad figure and collapsed upon a knee in the center of the room, mere feet away from the fairy-like woman performing her mysterious art before him. This startled her, as she had not picked up the sound of his entrance over the music her instrument was making, and she usually became utterly involved with her playing, tuning everything else out. She held the bow hovering over the instrument, ceasing the noise, and turned her body around to notice the yellow-haired man from earlier crouching shakily on the floor. Instantly, she settled the object on her bed, which was set against the far corner of the room, and proceeded to aid the male.

"I'm so sorry! I thought there was a guard outside! How did you get in?" Rem questioned softly, leaning down to join the noticeably larger figure resting close to the floor. She ran her hands delicately across his trapezius in an attempt to comfort him, her head leaning softly near his own as if expecting him to speak. Indeed, she had remembered distinctly requesting someone to stand guard over her room on the outside while she played her violin: an odd hobby of hers that she had picked up after joining the Brutes. She located the object near the entrance of the Karma Temple on an outing with a group to scout for enemy forces, oddly understanding what it was and how it was used. Although she knew not why she could use the apparently foreign instrument, Rem felt eternally devoted to playing it. She continuously strummed the same tune over and over again, something that the Colonel called the "Ode to Joy," but it wasn't until the first accident that the Brutes had regarded it seriously.

A young Brute wandered into her quarters while she was playing and transformed, instantly attacking the oblivious woman in an attempt to silence her music. He had the intentions to kill her and those nearby, but the Colonel dealt with it himself and slaughtered the erratic soldier, later stating that her "music" was not to be heard directly by any person that was affiliated with the light. Since then, there was only a single corresponding accident, though she ceased her playing immediately after the individual had transformed, and he regained sanity. Fearing that she was entirely at fault, she felt obliged to aid the yellow-maned male in recovering. Apollo, indeed, was fine now that the noise had ended abruptively, and he leaned up from his low kneel with a huff. The glowing ember that enflamed his atma had dispersed and his eyes had returned to normal just as he looked towards the young woman, a solemn and melancholy stare on his face.

"No. I should be the one apologizing. I didn't mean to disturb you," he told her, his arms hooked just under his ribs as he pressed his toe to the floor and lifted his body erect from its previous position. Looking down to her, he suddenly felt an odd urge to extend his hand towards her, as if to offer assistance in her stand as well. She eyed his atma-branded palm momentarily, but graciously accepted his aid, folding her hand into his as he pulled her effortlessly up from the floor. Rem was a bit drawn aback by his strength, but she affixed herself into a sturdy stance upon releasing his hand, her extremity reaching down to dust off the front of her long skirt. Apollo watched her silently, noting the gentle ways of which she cleaned her clothing, but took the opportunity at that time to introduce himself.

"I noticed you earlier near the vendor prior to when the squadron left. I wished to talk to you, but you had disappeared while my attention was diverted. My name is Apollo, and I am from the recently defeated Vanguards. Varin allowed me to join after I spoke to him directly, and he has made me a lieutenant."

"He almost never lets someone from a tribe not conquered by the Brutes join, let alone be knighted a lieutenant. He must see a lot of mental and physical strength in you, ... or he just likes how big your muscles are," she purred gleefully behind a hand, laughing slightly before silencing herself with her own introduction. "My name is Rem. I used to be in a fresh tribe of rookies before we were conquered by the Brutes, and I joined them. I've just been somewhat of a commoner since then, since I'm not as strong or experienced as the other members of this tribe."

"I wondered about your appearance. You look so fragile compared to the other females here." Immediately following his statement, the young woman began acting awfully strange, in his opinion. Her face had contorted in an eccentric way of which he had never seen before, the angle of her head pointing towards the floor while her pupils remained affixed on his face. Unlike his eyes, he noticed that their hue could not be controlled, and, for the most part, she retained that bright orange eye color at all times. Rem puckered her lips sourly, her brows lowering in faux disappointment, and she appeared overall to be offended by his comment. Apollo remained in silence for a short while, looking blankly upon the female, only to end the abrupt silence.

"I don't know what you are doing, but I'm afraid that I must end our conversation early and depart for Varin's quarters. He is undoubtedly ... 'furious' ... due to my absence," he quizzically stated, his face altering only slightly after repeating the word the young Brute said to him earlier. Rem fully understood his need to take leave and didn't argue or impede, instead bidding him a soft and pleasing farewell that he found oddly enjoyable. Indeed, it felt warm to him that she would say such things as 'thank you' and 'please,' especially seeing as the norm did not include said terms. Her kind exterior did have an added effect to it as well, restoring a subtle warmth to his torso that had been wildly vivid earlier. He lightly leaned his head downwards, as if bowing in acknowledgement, and turned swiftly, exiting the lonely room thereafter.

The hallway felt different now. It felt as though the heat from within the room had soaked itself through the doors and walls to linger in the crisp air of the corridor. It was pleasing, indeed, though Apollo did not understand why. Quietly, he creaked his way down the main hall and along the path around the indoor courtyard towards the room that Varin was most content in. Upon turning the corner of the main doors, the two guards stationed outside instantly caught his attention.

"Sir, where have you been? The Colonel is enraged! He's been very uptight ever since he received word of your absence!" the Brute on the left exclaimed, though his voice held a certain melancholy and monotone aspect to it. The other guard had raised his weapon to grasp the lieutenant's attention previously, but he had lowered it at this point, standing with his limbs stiff and motionless. Apollo felt the need to question some of the foreign words the soldiers had been speaking as of late, but the guard's desire for haste noted how displeased Varin must have been at the time. Instead of regarding them personally with his own matters, he proceeded into the leader's chambers without a sound. The leader of the Brutes could not be seen within the small entryway, each stairwell holding no Varin, nor did above or below the balcony. Aimlessly, he eyed the empty room and patted heavily up the right flight of stairs, entering the only unbroken other accessible door in the room.

It appeared to be a bedroom, somewhat large and heavily decorated, the Colonel standing stiffly before a vanity desk with his back facing the door. He looked intent with thought, staring out the open window with unwavering stature, despite the ill-rotten rain and wind that puffed in through the window every so often. Before him, on the desk, was a set of picture frames and small trinkets that were incredibly foreign to the Junkyard: things that looked to have never been made by human hands, or at least it appeared that way to Apollo. He closed the door with a simple, short click of the lock behind him and turned towards the other male, standing with attentive features. Immediately, the leader moved his shoulders with a subtle roll, signaling that he indeed was aware of his subordinate's presence.

"I hear that you requested me, Colonel, but I had not been here at the time. May I ask why?" Apollo asked solemnly, his head slightly bowed down in respect of the leader, who promptly picked up one of the objects on the desk before him. He hadn't noticed it before, but the room was very unkempt: bookshelves and other pieces of furniture were tipped over and sprawled all over the floor, objects in your path wherever you decided to step. Papers and glass were strewn in all sorts of places, mixed up with odds and ends that had previously been contained upon or within the tipped furniture, and the room overall looked to have recently been demolished by a large individual, preferably Varin. He, after exploring the mansion, located this section and shooed everyone else away, and a lot of noise emitted from his quarters thereafter. Silently, Apollo maneuvered his vision in brief glances around the perimeter of the room, only suddenly to be diverted back to the leader.

"Where the hell have you been?" responded a gruff and mature voice. "I wanted you to leave with that group of soldiers to go infiltrate Lupa's base. You better have a decent ass excuse for not being here when I needed you, Apollo."

"Sir, I do apologize for my absence, but I will not lie to you. I had left for Sahasrara earlier on one of my usual scouting routes, but I had only returned when I noticed a group of Wolves traveling towards Ajna. Myself and a few others slew them, but I entered the base just as the troop was leaving. I had no knowledge that I had to accompany them." Varin remained temporarily silent.

"Do you wish to devour me for my incompetence, Colonel?" Apollo questioned of him, bowing his head slightly lower. Varin made no sudden response, but appeared to think over his inquiry, pulling one of his hands to the front of his body, out of view. He stroked the stubbly surface of his chin and jawline, regarding the lieutenant's suggestion.

"You're more useful to me alive than dead, but that doesn't mean that I'm not still angry. Get out of here before I change my mind," Varin stated with a rough tone and medium elevation in his voice as he bid the newcomer to leave his presence. Of course, he did not resist. Apollo, with all of his respect and admiration, stood erect beyond the leader's view, and a sound of crushing glass beneath heavy boots echoed into the room until they were abruptly silenced. A hinge creaked ominously in the background as the tall figure snaked its way out of the container, closing the door behind it with a click. Once again, Varin was left amidst his motionless surroundings. Outside of the door, the man proceeded to take his leave of that wing of the building, moving instead towards the room that contained his quarters towards the southwest. Of course, while he was exiting that wing, he did stop momentarily to observe the area from which the noise emitted earlier.

The hallway was undisturbed this time, however. Completely devoid of existence and the chirping of the lady's tune, it appeared at this point that the area was completely empty. Almost as though it had been empty and unoccupied forever. A feeling rose from Apollo's head that made him ache, as if he were displeased with the fact that Rem no longer played her object, despite that it had driven him mad beforehand. He stood there weakly for a few minutes, pressing whether or not he should venture to her chambers again, but he began questioning why he wanted to do such a thing. Flabbergasted, he furrowed his brow and continued to press on to his own room. The area where he resided in the mansion was much more kept than the rest of the place: cleaned regularly and always put into strict order. He oddly picked one of the only spots in the building that had all of its windows intact, though he never truly stated why he wanted it that way.

Apollo was a man of order and cleanliness, his appearance always seeming radiant in comparison to that of others. Other members of the Brutes found this to be an odd hobby of his, seeing as he was one of the only people in the tribe that desired their personal space to always be dusted and well-kept. All of the furniture in his room was intact and upright, with everything in proper working order and uniform management, and the entire area carried primarily his own scent (which was surprisingly quite pleasant despite his line of work) mixed with a tinge of rain. He was most comfortable here compared to anywhere else and it was relatively often that you could find him around this part of the building, unless he was tending to his duties as a proper lieutenant. Upon his entrance, he immediately sat on the bed, which was placed in the center of the back wall, its length perpendicular to the window it was just beneath. There, he sat silently amidst the light that flooded in.

Some time passed and the leaders of each tribe received a transmission from the Karma Temple's Dissemination Machine, an all-knowing device that ruled over the inhabitants of the Junkyard and developed rules that were considered primarily for the good of the human race. Although this summon appeared eccentric to a vast degree, Varin did not decide to question it. In fact, he seemed quite anxious to visit Sahasrara. When asked about this odd desire, he would respond by saying that he 'had questions that required answers that only the Temple could provide,' and that initiated all of the Brutes to stand down from their inquiries from then on. Rumors spread quickly across the base after the transmission with several individuals stating that perhaps there was to be a new rule instated, or that the prerequisites of Nirvana had changed in one way or another. Either way, Varin did not pass on this formal occasion.

The leader was about to leave with a few supervisors of his choice when he was stopped and approached by Apollo. The yellow-maned male requested that he accompany him as well to the Temple, stating that he would evaluate the leaders of the other tribes, as well as their close allies. Varin snorted briefly at his comment, but did not refuse. He decided that it would be a good opportunity to test his reliability as a lieutenant; as a potential leader. Removing his eyepiece from the right pocket of his pants, Apollo tinkered and tested the small camera-like lens as they approached the realm of Sahasrara, located in the dead center of the Junkyard. The area appeared to float over a massive crater in the surface of the Junkyard, the large island covered from corner to corner with a massive temple forged of metal and stone. From its core sprout a tall tower that extended high into the heavens, the top incapable of being seen with normal eyes.

This was the pathway that a victorious tribe took to reach Nirvana. Apollo was dedicated to his desires to ascend and become one with the sky, ruling dominion over the whole of Nirvana: the promised land that so many had tried and failed to obtain. His grayed eyes flitted about wildly as he scanned the impossible lengths of which the lone pillar grew, connecting this pitiful existence with that of paradise in a most sturdy manner. Unwavering, he lowered his gaze from the temple as the small group of blue approached its entrance. The perimeter of the temple was lined with an individual entrance and pathway that led to each tribal territory, perhaps to prevent fraternization between groups, and cause unnecessary animosity. They reached the large steps that cut into the whole of the Brutes' entryway and Varin proceeded alone with heavy footsteps, Apollo left behind to question his actions of the other tribe members.

"Only tribe leaders are allowed entry to the Dissemination Machine, sir. Everyone else, including lieutenants such as yourself, are prohibited from participating in these types of matters," stated a young bronze-haired man over in the corner who had turned away from his group momentarily to regard Apollo. The lieutenant looked to him but did not respond, instead affixing his eyepiece and pulling at the winding cord located on its side, bringing it behind his head to plug into a socket located at the neck. Slowly, he began to stride clockwise around the large perimeter of the temple, hoping to scout for potential figures that could prove to be problematic in the Brutes' plan to ascend. He first passed through the Wolves territory, whom were the Brutes' most avid rivals, and he received much discord from his mere presence. They hissed and gawked at him, some thinking it wise to take random swings in his general direction, while others quieted their conversation and watched him pass until he left.

It appeared that they had only just arrived when he walked by, though Apollo was not willing to wait around for them to get comfortable and allow Lupa passage into the Karma Temple. Indeed, he eyed Lupa's existence for a few moments, pausing his walk to glance ominously over his shoulder while his eyepiece collected minimal data, but he continued his stride once the Wolves' leader himself noted the presence of a Brute and slowed his pace. Apollo, calmly, then passed through Vanguard territory: the place where he had been once before when he was just a rookie. Expecting Harley and his close allies to be conversing prior to his entrance, Apollo was drawn aback by the fact that the area was devoid of life. No men, no women, no creatures of any size or shape. The entrance was empty, and they were not spotted coming down the pathway that approached from his western side.

"Odd," Apollo said silently as he scanned the area. "He must have been slaughtered." Although he was quite questioning of the lifeless section, he ignored it primarily, and instead continued his clockwise motions towards the Embryon's entrance, whom were the weakest and smallest tribe. Upon his emersion, it was easy to distinguish said tribe from a Brute: their members appeared frail and thin, incapable of anything beyond firing single and simple weaponry, let alone being able to stand a shot from enemy forces. They were small in comparison to Apollo, who felt large and strong when near any Embryon individual. They were also somewhat frightened of his presence, though he was acting rather docile compared to some other tribe members. He scanned the individuals at this entrance and caught his first glimpse of the leader, he whom they called "Serph" or the "Silver Fox."

It was a questionable sight, seeing the famous Water Crown atma branded to this being's flesh, whereas he appeared incapable of the power rumored to accompany him. Apollo simply stood in the central clearing of the entrance as he witnessed the thin-bodied man run with fervor up the stairs and into the temple, the lens on his eye dilating to focus upon his figure, but he was suddenly distracted.

"Hey! What the hell is someone like you doing around here?" yelled a heated voice from the left, Apollo simply turning his head in the direction from which it came. There stood a red-haired male with a tempered sneer plastered on his lips, his flaming eyes sparking fiercely as he continued to eye down the yellow-maned man. Near him was a silent, but obviously unamused, female with fuchsia hair, her arms folded blankly across her chest. The lens in Apollo's eye analyzed the both of them, the rest of the tribe going silent as soon as "Heat" had raised his voice. Although he made no immediate response, Apollo listened to the eccentrics of which the younger male spoke.

"You'd best get the fuck out of here before you get your ass beat, pretty boy. We don't appreciate your kind." Of course, Apollo yet to make any motion or response.

"You think you're good enough to ignore me? I said, 'get out of—'!" Before the flame-tongued youth could finish his curt statement, Apollo had already decided to approach him. Heat took this as initiation of a challenge and began to tense up with testosterone, but once the yellow-haired male had closed the distance and towered over him, the smaller of the two quickly backed down. There, hovering over him with his massive and broad figure, Apollo swayed ineagerly, the tinge in his eyes retaining the dull gray it always had.

"What are you attempting to do, rookie: fight me? I've eaten things bigger than you," Apollo curred solemnly as he looked down at Heat, the small male grimacing with rage in response. With a solitary fluent motion, he swirled around the small male and brushed him off weakly, proceeding towards the Maribel territory for observation. Heat was very unappreciative of Apollo's disregarding statement, and he stood there seething fire for a few moments, only to quickly lash out.

"I'll kill you!" the red-haired man yelled in the other's direction, his right fist clenched with a shaking fever as it propelled in Apollo's direction, only to be stopped feebly by Argilla's gripping hands.

"Stop, Heat! There's no sense in fighting a Brute lieutenant! They could easily run us into the ground if we were to try anything, so just let it go!" she whined cowardly, though her words indeed did have a good sense to them. The Embryon were mere toys in comparison to the Brutes and their capabilities. Certainly, Heat may have been able to recognize this, but he was far too uncontained to acknowledge it.

"Just whose side are you on? Let me go! I'll tear him apart!" he roared in anger, his hands still clawing towards Apollo's direction, though the tall man had already increased the distance between himself and that of his supposed attacker. He was unphased by the rant the Embryon "lieutenant" expelled in the background, despite how annoying and rude as it may have been. If Apollo had wanted to, he could have easily devoured every last individual in that tiny area, but he retained his self-control. There was no sense behind smothering a tribe too weak to support itself at such a crucial time. They were far too preoccupied with keeping the Wolves under control and besides: he didn't like picking the shreds of weaklings out from between his teeth. It wasn't at all enjoyable or savory.

While Apollo examined and picked apart the stronger members of both the Maribel and the Solids, the meeting within the Dissemination Room was having interesting developments. An odd mechanism, as it appeared to everyone, had descended from what looked to be within the machine. Static rubbed furiously at its entity as it swirled before the leaders of each tribe, dubbing itself "Angel" and explaining the new-found abilities of each person's atma. This included the fact that every individual was judged by their karma from the Karma Temple, and that the atma allowed them to devour foe and friend to gain strength and admiration. Then, there was a statement which confused most of the leaders.

'Rend, slaughter, devour your enemies. It is the only way to survive. You cannot escape your hunger, Warriors of Purgatory.'

Purgatory. It was an odd term to the leaders (except maybe Varin, whom had become enraged at Angel's statements) and they could only quietly question its existence. This machine began stating that the only way to ascend to Nirvana was to collect the one addendum: the black-haired girl that appeared at Ground Zero upon the emersion of the light. By finding this female, the tribe would then have right to enter Nirvana, but only if they had devoured the leader of each other tribe. Whispering ensued as Angel continued to explain the whole of the situation, but it wasn't until the leader of the Embryon, Serph, said something that it responded in a wild and vicious manner. Angel ordered Serph to bring the girl, Sera, to the temple if he wanted to know anything about his self. Then, following the outburst, the machine blinked out of existence.

While every leader began to leave quietly, understanding their mission, Varin decided to stay behind until he was the only one left. Only then did Angel come back into the reality, and it was at that time that the Colonel began yelling ferociously. He called himself Colonel Beck and ordered to be brought out of the Junkyard reality, which Angel retaliated by saying, 'If it is true that you are the colonel, then you know that cannot be possible. It was you, after all, who desired this world be locked.' It curred with melancholy and a certain depth to despair, but the Brute didn't find this pleasing in the least, let alone entertaining. He lashed out at it with statements regarding the emptiness and falsification of Nirvana, but his inquiries were silenced once it curtly responded by motioning that the girl was his only salvation. Varin left in a rage afterwards, leaving the logged Angel alone amidst the quiet confines of the Dissemination Machine.

Varin Omega left the temple to rejoin his subordinates outside, of which Apollo had already rejoined after walking around the entire perimeter of Sahasrara. Immediately, his eyepiece still affixed to his head, he approached the leader and made several statements.

"Sir, I have information for you," he said, the lens over his eye suddenly dilating as Varin turned to face him. "I've uncovered that the Silver Fox has devoured Harley, leader of the Vanguards, and his followers have joined. You must already know of his appearance, understanding how feeble and fragile he looks, but I have a feeling that there is more to him than meets the eye. The fuchsia-haired female at his side is a heavy magic user with phenomenal statistics in said area, so she may prove to be a threat. Also—"

"And what about the red-haired man?" Varin questioned, cutting him off. Apollo simply looked off to the side with confusion, his eyes shifting subtly.

"...What red-haired man?" he asked, raising a brow, later to be reminded of the flame-tongued individual that attempted to start a fight earlier. "Oh, him. No, he will not be a problem. He is much weaker than the female." Calmly, Apollo unplugged the cord from the nape of his neck and let it recoil back within the mechanism, his hand pulling the small object off of his face and settling it within his hand. As the group began to exit Sahasrara, he proceeded to inform Varin of the other tribes and their leaders, as well as the minimal data he had gathered on victories, losses, and stalemates.