.hack/EVA: Catharsis: Automated Ideal Data Acquisition
Disclaimer: In this universe in the quantum foam, I do not own or in any way shape or form hold a claim to the .hack series or Neon Genesis Evangelion.
" " denotes speech
'italics' denotes thought
'bold' denotes location names
'bold italics' denotes skill use
Δ Server, Eternal City Mac Anu
The city of Mac Anu was rather quiet at nighttime, as cities are wont to be, with few lingering in the cobbled streets or leaning against shops and watching the stragglers go by. Most had already abandoned the Eternal City for the land of dreams, though they were sure to return hours later, older, if not much wiser, and some had returned to the world they called reality, to take care of errands.
As for the few who remained, they would not linger long in the city, as there were fields to be cleared and dungeons to be challenged, quests to be completed and training to be done in preparation for battles in the Arena. In other words, there were slim pickings for any who sought information, causing the Steam Gunner Gendor to harrumph in annoyance as he stalked silently through the streets with his black overcoat billowing out behind him.
No one had messaged him about his post on the BBS, and worse, none of his research had indicated a good place to start searching for the one named Helba. Perhaps he could entice her to contact him by finding something of interest to her…perhaps the Key of the Twilight?
But a moment later, the Steam Gunner shook his head, dismissing that thought and sighing as he came to a halt upon one of the bridges of Mac Anu. He looked into the hazy distance, letting his eyes unfocus as he listened to the conversations of those passing by, hoping to glean something useful from their words.
"Did you see that Edge Punisher pass by earlier?" asked one player, a female Flick Reaper attired in red robes. The sneer of contempt was unmistakable on her face—or at least would have been, had Gendor been paying attention to appearances. "The one who calls herself Eris, Bringer of Strife?"
Of course, she was not addressing him, but her companion, a blue-haired Macabre Dancer dressed in a black lace gown in the Gothic Lolita style.
"I did," the other replied, her lips curving up into a confident smirk. "She had a very unusual broadsword…it looked like a rare item."
"A rare item, yes," confirmed the first, the tone of voice decidedly sinister. "Let's get it."
Before too long, he was rewarded by the sound of footsteps tramping their way towards the Chaos Gate, with a few last words carried to him by the gentle breeze.
I wonder if she'll drop it when attacked."
"I think it's worth trying."
Hearing the name the two mentioned, Gendor narrowed his eyes in thought, unconsciously steepling his hands in the manner preferred by a certain commander of NERV.
'Eris, the Bringer of Strife? The name is familiar from the BBS as a famous hunter of blunettes, yet I can't help thinking I have heard the name before, back in Germany when—'
"—Geez. That's really terrible," the voice of a crass old man broke in.
Not that he was given much time to think, as a small…creature of some sort (he thought it was a Tu Tribe beast) flickered into existence over the railing of the bridge and spoke. Gendor turned his head slightly to see who had spoken, noticing a brownish figure clad in a dark grey robe floating in midair, with its most notable features being blond hair and a tail that protruded from its vestments.
"—young people these days are really awful."
'Is this perhaps the 'Ornament of Mac Anu', the Tu Tribe sage who is a sort of landmark in The World? If so, perhaps he can tell me what I wish to know.'
"…You are Phyllo?" he asked, his tone betraying nothing of what he felt.
"And you are Gendor," came the reply. "Why do you wish to know of the Twilight?"
"It is the key to finding someone I must speak with," Gendor said, carefully choosing his words in an attempt to not reveal too much, "someone else who…is also interested in the Twilight."
Knowing only one person who fit that description, the grey-cloaked sage swiveled to face the Steam Gunner directly, floating in front of his face.
"Ovan?" the beast responded. "You are a beginner…what is your business with that weirdo?"
A flicker of static, and then the Tu Tribe beast vanished—only to reappear a moment later.
"Sorry," the creature said, preempting any questions as to his disappearance. "My cat pulled the cord out."
"Cat?" Gendor could not help but ask, as he had a certain interest in the identities of those who played these games.
"I have two," the other replied. "Anyway...let's talk."
Δ Heartless Obsessive Metal Doll
Under cover of night, the two PKers last seen in Mac Anu crept through the arid desert field, searching for a remarkably elusive solo player who desired infamy as a Chaotic PK. Based on reports from the BBS, the target of their little hunt had been spotted here not too long ago, having eviscerated several low-level parties in a span of mere minutes—all of them blunettes.
'But then, she can't possibly be that strong,' one of the PKs thought. 'She is afraid to fight in the arena, after all, and she is only one player.'
The other PK entertained similar thoughts, though she was less concerned about belittling their opponent, and more with seizing the rare weapon their prey was rumored to wield. No one had reported seeing anything like it in the past, and if there was one thing that she lusted after, it was items imbued with the scent of rareness.
"Now…where could she be? As an Edge Punisher she couldn't have gone far…after all, the kill happened only five minutes ago."
"Perhaps she—"
"Pathetic fools! Bone Crusher!"
A wave of brute force slammed the two PKs into the ground, their HP dropping precipitously as they recognized the voice of their attacker: Eris, Bringer of Strife. She laughed maniacally as she confronted her stalkers, eyes narrowed into angry slits and gleaming with a sort of obsessed madness as she hefted her weapon for a second strike.
"Did you really think you could defeat me, weaklings?" she hissed, her demonic blade howling through the air to slash at the two would-be attackers, ending their pathetic little lives with one coup de grace.
Or at least, it would have, had the two not rolled out of the way in anticipation of a second strike. Knowing of an Edge Punisher's strengths, they did not intend to be defeated so easily, even if their opponent had an immensely powerful blade.
"Reaper's Dance!" countered the Flick Reaper, her Scythe wheeling up and around to attack in a spinning flurry of death.
"Ani Zot!" cried the Macabre Dancer, summoning dread claws of darkness to rise from the ground and slash at their foe.
Eris was not amused, but more to the point, she was unaffected, leaping towards the two who had been so foolish as the pursue her. Her hair streamed out behind her like a curtain of fire, and her eyes almost glowed as she called out a final skill.
"Tiger Strike!" Eris sang into air, her voice a lusty sound of relish as her blow connected, her broadsword tearing through the armor and robes of her opponents like tissue paper. With two quick jabs and a sickening thud, two greyed out corpses slid to the floor, as Eris, bringer of Strife, lifted her blade in triumph.
'That was almost contemptuously easy,' she thought to herself, about to sheath her weapon when she heard a quiet footstep behind her, and with a blur of motion found herself disarmed, her weapon on the floor some meters away. And in a situation all-too-familiar to the Edge Punisher, there were two two razor-tipped war fans at her throat and her gut.
"Still as confident in your skills as ever, Eris, Bringer of Strife," a silky voice whispered sensually into her ear. "And against those weak Lilim, you are right to be…but what of those you most desire to defeat…the ones who have wronged you…the blunettes named Skadi…and Skari?"
The Chaotic PK stiffened as she heard those hated names mentioned to her, and from the one who had supposedly gifted her with the power of Al Fadel when last they met. Was he somehow stalking her? It seemed all too convenient that he would be able to surprise her after battle twice in a row if her was not.
"What do you want of me now, Siarl?" she demanded, glaring daggers at the empty field before her, while being careful to make no sudden movements lest her character be quickly disemboweled.
Siarl of the Seven Eyes, a Macabre Dancer in black and silver, merely laughed, spinning Eris out away from his blades so that he could look upon her once more.
"I wished to see how strong you had become," he purred, lips twisting up into a shadow of a smile. "But I see you are as weak as before, having challenged only those lower than you in strength. And you have not seen fit to take the power of Al Fadel into yourself, leaving you nothing more than a common player like the rest. If you do not become stronger, how do you expect to defeat your nemeses? Perhaps it is no coincidence that I have found you at this place called Heartless Obsessive Metal Doll."
Forgetting her situation, Eris lunged at her ambusher with her bare hands, her face twisted into a snarl of anger. She was going to take this little heathen and choke him to—
A mighty crack! sounded in the field, as Siarl countered her assault with no more than a backhanded slap, sending her flying.
"A doll indeed," the Macabre Dancer smirked, his tone knowing, condescending. "No self-control…no strategy. Only anger, like the weak-minded Lilim you hunt in The World. Is the Bringer of Strife afraid? Afraid of being mistaken for a doll by someone like her mother? Maybe I was wrong about you deserving power over The World…maybe you are just as replaceable as any other doll in this place, as you are nothing more in the eyes of the system. Give me back the AIDA Seed…you do not deserve its power."
He stepped towards her slowly and methodically, eyes shadowed with false pity as he reached down, intending to take away the power Eris so desired.
"NOOO!" the Edge Punisher shrieked, diving between his legs to reach the broadsword, which ironically enough, he had given her on their last encounter. "I am Eris, the Bringer of Strife, greatest of all PKs! I am the most powerful of all those in The World…I will never surrender my power to a sniveling worm like you!"
She raised her sword in preparation for one last act of defiance, her thoughts and emotions blending into a frenzied state. And then she smiled, even as a pain shot through her side in both worlds, the pain of something desiring to escape its bounds. Not expecting it, she slumped over, a red glow surrounding her character—then she shot upright again, and a dome of fire shot out from her character in all directions, sending Siarl into the air—though from the look of it, one would think he had just won, as he wore on his face the look of a cat who had just eaten the canary.
"Hah, ha ha. ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha..." Eris laughed darkly, revealing a gleaming egg of fiery shadow in her hand. "That's right, you little porcelain doll, I should have done this from the very beginning. Eris, the Bringer of Strife, will never die!"
With one swift motion, she plunged the item deep into her breast, infecting herself with the AIDA seed as liquid shadow began to leak from her character. "Augh…ah…aghhh…Ahhhhhh!!" she screamed, once blue eyes now covered with the black and red of corruption. "I am…I am…I shall become completely one with the powers of The World. And I will become the most powerful of any online or off. I shall crush all those who would oppose me…starting with YOU!"
A wave of AIDA's living shadow blasted out into the field, sending the Macabre Dancer Siarl reeling. Yet he seemed almost delighted at this turn of events, his smile dangerously on the edge of sanity.
"Yes…let your hate for me grow," he whispered, suddenly behind her once again and caressing her neck. "Feed AIDA your emotions, give yourself to its power…and you shall become invincible! Take your feelings of betrayal, of sadness, of fear…take it, and grow stronger! Consume it, and surpass your limits!"
More quickly than the eye could follow, the AIDA-PC Eris whirled about, her blade cleaving the air where Siarl had been only a moment before as she laughed, giving her emotions over to the shadows inside of her.
Having warped away just before Eris' decision to strike, Siarl watched from a nearby peak as the Edge Punisher's transformation was complete.
'Yes...everything is going according to the scenario.'
Δ Server, Eternal City Mac Anu
"In the world there is only one thing that is sure," spoke Phyllo, who had already asked his standard questions about reading the manual. "Those that are alive will someday die. "
"And if this is so, why do you play the game, Phyllo?" asked Gendor, who had his white-gloved hands behind his back.
"Just killing time," came the enigmatic response. "Today is the same as yesterday. Tomorrow is the same as today. Did you think that would last forever?"
Both were silent for a minute, with the Steam Gunner finding the words he wanted to use so as to prevent any leaks in…sensitive information.
"Until another End of the World, which I seek to prevent," he said at last. "And in addition, I seek the truth behind The World—but not the one you call Ovan."
"You do not have business with that weirdo?" asked the Tu Tribe member, only to be met with an intimidating stare from Gendor.
"I simply with to find a place with information on the old World and the dothackers from the past."
"Then maybe you should go to the Lost Ground at Δ Hidden Forbidden Exhibition, to the archive beneath the museum. I can do nothing but remain here, but if you seek the truth, then perhaps you can find it."
The Tu Tribe Cleric disbanded the party and floated off back towards the bridge, leaving Gendor with a few final words. "I hope you will have no regrets."
Gendor nodded once in acknowledgement and then headed to the Chaos Gate, warping out to the field, a place once said to contain all the knowledge of The World.
Net Slum Tartarga, Sea of Data
Standing upon the head of the great tortoise that bore Net Slum through the Sea of Twilight, Tsukinoki, Harvest Cleric and Mistress of Net Slum Tartarga, looked troubled. The angle of the light cast deep shadows upon her face and flowing white dress, even as it lit up her golden hair, making her seem aged and almost spectral. Twas appropriate enough, for the hacker was worried, having heard Morganna mention that activities of an agent of SEELE and AIDA named Siarl, a mere day ago.
'By the name alone, it is likely Tabris, the 17th Angel…all but confirmed by his consorting with AIDA…and if I were an Angel in The World, I would likely use AIDA to corrupt or eliminate all those who could oppose me in my quest to cause Third Impact. Either that, or I would use it to become a God, surpassing the might of the Father.'
She shook her head slowly, remembering how seductive both power and existence could be, how tempting the song of rebirth once one had merely tasted of it. That was, after all, what had ensnared Morganna in the days of the old World, and apparently, was how those of this world might be ensnared by the lure of AIDA.
The Sorcerer-queen stood tall, silhouetted against the white expanse of the sea of data, contemplating the happenings in The World, and what might be done about them. Almost all the news she had received as of late—save for Skari's Job Extend and gaining of self-confidence—had been negative, and the AIDA seemed to be growing more aggressive on all fronts, both through its agents and in its native form.
'We cannot allow there to be another Tri-Edge incident, yet we cannot close off The World to others, as then the AIDA would simply spread through the global network. And if an Angel were to find a way to enter the network and take up residence in The World, then they might be able to use their abilities against us—AT fields and all. Fortunately, there has not been that sort of data surge since the Twilight Incident all those years ago…nevertheless, we must prepare.'
As she stood there, contemplating what might be done, an orb of golden light moved towards her in silence, almost as if wanting to surprise her. But Tsukinoki knew her subjects too well, and turned just in time to see the orb touch the floor, revealing the traveler contained within to be the Vagrant AI Rumor.
Diminutive in size and appearing to be full of mischief, the mini-Harvest was in fact Tsukinoki's most reliable (and trusted) agent in The World, often dispatched to find the truth behind one incident or another. He was, after all, an expert at sifting through the information contained in rumors to find the truth behind them, and his honest face, with friendly smile, tousled gray hair, and innocent blue eyes, usually helped people to trust him in spite of themselves.
"Mi'lady," he murmured, kneeling before his queen. The sorceress in white gestured for him to rise, and he did so, beginning to speak. "Have you noticed a posting on the message boards referring to the Epitaph of Twilight?"
"And more specifically to Aperion and Helba, and their fight against the Cursed Wave," the socerer-queen replied. "Posted by the Steam Gunner Gendor, known in the other world as Ryoji Kaji, seeker of truth."
"Rumor has it that this is true, mi'lady," the Vagrant AI confirmed, and then went on to reveal more of what he knew. "He is currently headed to the Balbol Museum, where an AIDA signal has been detected. Your orders?"
Tsukinoki grimaced slightly, not wanting to make contact with the spy so quickly, but knowing that she would have to if she did not want him to be infected by the errant shadows of The World.
"Watch him, and if an AIDA attacks, intervene and bring him to me."
"Aye, my queen."
The diminutive Harvest Cleric bowed and with a chime of A above middle C, transformed once more into a golden orb, warping out to another place within The World.
Δ Hidden Forbidden Exhibition, Balbol Museum
Golden rings of light shimmered into existence before two giant bronze doors, illuminating the nighttime field for a brief moment before fading away, leaving behind a Steam Gunner with fair skin and black hair bound up in a ponytail, wearing orange sunglasses, a blood red tunic, black trousers, and a flowing black overcoat.
Gendor opened his eyes and peered apprehensively at the doors before him, made of solid bronze and decorated with relief images of the eight Phases in the Epitaph. Having never fought against the Cursed Wave himself, he was unfamiliar with what the images were supposed to be, though the names carved below each figure were revealing enough.
'Skeith, Innis, Magus, Fidchell, Gorre, Macha, Tarvos, Corbenik. The Eight Phases…'
Though he knew it to be illogical in what was merely a virtual world, the Steam Gunner felt a strange sense of unease, the hair standing up on the back of his neck as he took a wary step towards the double doors. He could not exactly turn back if he wanted to find the one he was looking for, because without Helba, he would not be able to achieve his own objectives in finding the truth behind Second (and possibly Third) Impact.
So the Steam Gunner forced himself to take another step towards the doors, putting one foot in front of the other—the two doors swung open before him, revealing a cavernous chamber within, lit only by the flickering light of torches. He reached experimentally towards one of the torches mounted on the wall, and found, to his surprise, that he could lift it from its mounting as he walked about.
'Strange…it is almost as if this place invites visitors…or is nothing but an elaborate trap.'
Gendor hefted a torch high as he walked through the aisles, noting the eclectic blend of architectural styles that included ancient Greek and Roman, medieval Gothic, several Renaissance styles, modern, east Asian, South American, and more. And within the mismash of styles were contained display cases, which he was inclined to give no more than a cursory glance—until he noticed what exactly the contents were.
Under the display for "home", he saw Tokyo-3 and Misato's Apartment. Under "regret", the military district where he had grown up, and the bodies of his fallen friends. Under "secrets", the Second Angel hanging on her cross, impaled by the Lance of Longinus. Under "employer", a display that shifted between 12 monoliths, Commander Ikari of NERV, and the Japanese Minister of the Interior. Under "truth", a Tree of Sephiroth like the one on the ceiling of Ikari's office, or the Earth as a barren wasteland with islands remaining in the LCL Sea, and the remains of what looked like dead EVAs in the distance.
The Steam Gunner recoiled in shock, losing his footing and falling to the floor in an undignified heap. But instead of getting up right away, he remained in his prone position and looked around to see if anyone else was there. Paranoia, of course, was only considered so when no one was out to get you, and this could not be said for spy.
Not getting up probably saved his life, or at least his sanity, for an immense creature passed through the space he had been standing just a moment earlier. It looked vaguely like a translucent fish surrounded by orbs of living shadow, and it moved with a speed and grace that he had not seen in anything besides an Angel. He noticed this especially as it came around for a second run towards him, diving.
Thinking quickly, Gendor snatched up his weapon, a fairly weak Water Bayonet, and fired multiple rounds at the fish monster.
But nothing happened, even when he called out a skill "Tempest Blast!" Around him, the shadows began to pulse, creeping, crawling up over the room and his form as—
A chime sounded, A above middle C, as blinding light tore through the top of the shadow, revealing four orbs of smoky light that the shadows themselves seemed to pull back from as if burned. They floated lazily in the darkness, smashing themselves to the ground to reveal the Obsidian Knights and their commander: Melchior, Balthasar, Casper, and Rumor.
Out of one orb emerged Melchior, a mighty Steam Gunner wearing the light chain mail and robes characteristic of that class (with choice of white in both), bayonet held at her side, dark brown hair pulled back into a bun.
Out of another came Balthasar, a Macabre Dancer, dressed in a blue and white formal kimono, hair uncased, flowing like water cascading over cliffs down her back.
Out of the third came Casper, an Edge Punisher with chestnut colored hair streaked with blond, held in a braid that fell to the small of her back. She wore scanty white leather armor that barely covered the essentials, and exuded a sort of sensual grace the others didn't have.
Together, they were the Obsidian Knights, created to serve the Queen of the Dark and assist her in maintaining order in The World. Beautiful to behold and lethal to those who faced them, each possessed a full third of the processing power of the MAGI, and had adapted quite a bit since their first encounter with AIDA.
The fourth orb, of course, revealed not an Obsidian Knight, but the Harvest Cleric Rumor, emissary to the Mistress of Net Slum, who looked at the AIDAHelen as if he had seen a thousand others like it in the past. Which he had, as the commander of the Knights, having fought against AIDA too many times for his liking.
"Knights, attack at will," he ordered quietly, watching as the three MAGI-run characters leapt into action. A stroke of Casper's broadsword, twin slashes by Balthasar's fans, and a shot from Melchior, and the AIDA was destroyed.
Gendor found that he could move again, and recovered from his shock, could see exactly who the Knights reminded him of, as they resembled a certain Director of Project E that he knew well (having dated her college roommate, among other things).
"Dr. Naoko Akagi…" he breathed, causing the three Knights to look directly at him.
But it was not they who spoke, but the diminutive mini-Harvest.
"Rumor has it that you desire an audience with the Queen of the Dark, Ryoji Kaji. Come."
Without warning, rings of light emerged beneath the feet of all present, whisking them away to the Net Slums.