check me out on twitter at /setsunatama3 for any announcements from now on.
notice I also post on the following sites:
Wattpad at 773701195-the-maelstrom-of-remnant-chapter-one-exile
Archive of Our Own at /works/20596958?view_full_work=true
deviant art at setsunatama3/gallery
at: s/13280840/1/the-Maelstrom-of-remnant
Tumblr at blog/setsunatama3
due note I post on my (P)atre0n first and they get early access to my work.
If you like my work, consider donating to my (P) atreon at setsunatama3 is creating fanfiction. And if (P)atreon subscriptions are not your speed, consider donating on KO-fi at /setsunatama3
AN/ so I have been gone for a while. Some of you may ask where I was during that time, well I was not inactive I took that time to work on a side project of mine. A 1k sample of it will be at the bottom of the chapter. The full chapter will become available at the two weeks (trying to get ahead on chapters.) And now I'm back to post publicly now. Enjoy the chapter.
Flood 1
Seírios marveled at her reflection in the mirror of the quarters her Lady Salem gave her within the castle. Gone were the wounds that would never heal, the severe burns, and all the years that she languished in a body made into a prison. Unable to communicate yet aware. Aware of every indignity she suffered for fifteen long years. The assault to her mind and body. Forcibly kept alive on machines. Made to endure for years… it angered her just to think of it. So much so that her vaunted power nearly slipped its leash.
Enduring years of constant rape. All in the name of continuing the bloodline. Her only solace in that part of her life was she was never healthy enough to carry a single child to term. When she was Zenith, she knew all too well why her own family did that to her. Why her own father arranged for a killer like the Sculptor to murder her family. He explained that to her all too well. While he was carving into her flesh. Turning her into his twisted 'Art.'
The man seemed to take some sick joy in carving up a pregnant woman. And using his semblance to cause her wounds to fester and never heal. To cut into her and rip the child she was still carrying out of her very womb, her baby, her darling girl. She would have loved to name her Norn in the End. And oh boy, did he love to talk. He explained everything, why he was there, why he was going to carve her up and butcher her family. His reason one would ask? All because her father did not approve, the bastard. The Sculptor even let her know only she was to survive. He seemed to take sick pleasure in the irony of it, even as he slit her throat. After all, who would trust a psychopath but a fool. To carry out a job like this. A mercy he called it. Yet she did not die. Could not die, not without vengeance. A vengeance stolen from her for fifteen long years.
All the time she spent trapped in her own body, Seírios never could figure out just how she survived that night. It was something she intended to rectify. Right along with getting justice for her family.
The woman that looked back in the mirror now looked almost nothing like the woman she was then. With her hair the color of spun gold reaching to mid-back. Heterocromatic eyes, one a brilliant sapphire, the other an eerie emerald that seemed to glow in the dark. Her ears now pointed and fae like. She looked at least three decades younger. Back to her prime. No, she was even stronger now than when in her prime.
Now all she needed to do was gather a team, and she knew just who to get.
]|[
Salem sat in her personnel chambers at her side where Lauram and Leere sat at the small table. While the rest of her court other than Agrios and Seírios sat in seats of their own at the table. Who were both settling into their new quarters. The table had a tea set and serving tray full of biscuits and other assorted goodies. While her hands mechanically went through the motions of preparing the tea. She pondered over the curiosity that was the conclusion of the sacrament of the twelve.
Just what had happened there. Those long past had accepted both Seírios and Agrios; everything was all going to plan. When Yara, the tall amazon of a woman, had stepped forward. Everything seemed perfect. She had resonated body and soul. Yet she failed why? It was not a rejection.
They had witnessed a spectacular example of just what a truly horrible rejection was. Not more than a few hours ago, in fact. Marcus Black, a man she had dealings with in the past. A man who she could admit had many uses. A man who even with his ability to steal semblances. Thought it was a clever ruse to pledge himself under an assumed name. Salem scoffed at the idea. He dared to use the name Rhodes and make the pledge. He was especially useful. That was at least until he had nearly ruined one of her plans. It was something he was believed to have paid for with his life. When his own sun was taken into her service. Before being assigned to dear Cinder.
That he was brazen enough to come crawling back under another alias was proof enough. The man was obsessed with power. And it was why Salem knew she needed to burn her dress. The drapes and the throne room needed quite the deep cleaning. It was so hard to get viscera out of the grout these days. Magic did not quite cut it.
Salem went over the day's events repeatedly in her head. Thinking back to the resonance of souls. It was really strong. Eager in fact to connect to Yara. and yet it felt as if it were dimmed somehow. Weakened or blocked in some way… it couldn't possibly be… but it could… no, that was definitely impossible...
Salem went absolutely still. A sense of deadly foreboding filled the air, "Erudit… I have a task for you. I wish for you to investigate Eden. Scour it from top to bottom for any tampering."
If her hunch was right, then… then… Then Eden, the hallowed resting place of her many guardians, her companions. The place made so that her current apostles could seek guidance, solace and counsel. Had in fact been tampered with. Her hands trembled in grief and rage at the mere thought. If that was the case, then the question was when and how long had this been in place.
Without a question why her loyal Erudit left to complete his task. "As my lady wills."
"Salem dear, I think you should let me finish preparing the tea. Lest you wish to replace another set." Tisserande drawled out. Gently placing his hands over her own. Getting her to release the death grip she had on the teacup in her hand.
"Thank you, I'm a bit out of sorts at the moment." she said, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"Think nothing of it we all have our bad days. You know that better than anyone, my dear. I can relate more than some. Now would you be so kind as to tell us what is wrong, my Lady Salem. So that we may go out and kill it." Tisserande consoled. Quickly serving tea to her and to the rest of his compatriots.
Salem let out a sigh, all her stress leaving her as she caught a whiff of her tea smelling the soothing Aroma of mint. She smiled as she thought, 'ah Tisserande he knows just what to Brew when I am feeling out of sorts.'
Taking a sip, Salem resolved to tell them the truth of what was going on. "I sent Erudit to Eden because if I am right then our wayward fool did more than just betray his oath and murder kin."
There was the sound of shattering crockery. And the flareup of his power disintegrating the ceramic. And Salem winced at the sound. Looked like she would need to replace the set after all. "I see then it looks like we'll have to set things to rights. Won't we? I'll depart before the morrow." it was her slagter who said it.
That was bad, all kinds of nope right there. If he was allowed to 'set' things to right then there would be a trail of bodies a mile long. Cities burned, military forces devastated. Just a grim prospect in general. It was best that she kept him on a rather short leash. Salem knew as well meaning as his overtures were. He was not the one sent on a delicate mission.
If you needed someone very, very, dead, then he was the guy, you needed a particular hard target turned into a greasy spot on the ground, then he was your guy. You needed someone sent an example of just what would happen if they were defiant then he was the guy. You need some poor bastard mailed to someone in twenty-three pieces to send a rather gory but effective message, he was your guy. You absolutely did not send Slagter to hunt down what amounted to a ghost. Salem shuddered at the wanton mayhem he would cause.
"Actually, Slagter, I think I would prefer to send Leere on this assignment." she hastily said. Leere was the only other obvious choice given Lauram's current fragile state, Tisserande's workload, with Intrygant's aloof antisocial behavior granted he can fake it to make it for a time, yes. It would not be long until he gave it up without assistance. Yes, Leere was truly the only sane choice on the matter.
Amusingly Slagter merely sulked, pouting like a child who did not get their way. "Ok." he sighed.
Directing her attention to Leere Salem stated, "for now we will wait and see what Erudit brings us."
]|[
There Arrow stood upon the highest tower of the castle, watching over the battles that raged on. Her cloak billowed in the wind, revealing hints of the uniform she wore underneath. Her uniform was a sleek almost skin tight sleeveless black top. And leather trousers. At her hip was a quiver of arrows attached to the belt and harness she wore, at the small of her back rested her collapsed bow.
Even now with her enhanced senses she could see the battles rage on in the city proper. Turning what was once a profitable waterfront city into a battlefield. Her hand drifted to her quiver as she glimpsed stinger with two of his three Triplets. No doubt he was boosting their power for something rather nasty. Part of her longed to use the arrow she was gifted by Lauram and Intrygant. A portion of their power dwelled within. A single shot, one chance, and that was all she had.
Even from her perch, she could feel it now. That wretched malformed egg it had completely taken over the square with its rot. None dare approach it. Any who did felt the unnaturalness of it. It would not be long now until they could no longer stay here.
]|[
Pyrrha was one part shocked, one part in awe, as she and Naruto quickly made their way past buildings with surfaces blasted smooth by sand. It was as if decades of erosion had happened all at once. Carving out a visible trench of affected buildings through the city. They made the journey in silence, only highlighted by the occasional crack of gunfire that echoed in the distance. Confirming that at least one group had made contact with the enemy.
Their trek ended at the now worn relief of the ancient cathedral. A solid stone sign built into the steps worn by time, then further by sand, yet it still clearly read ST Marguerite's Cathedral. The doors of the once grand place of worship were all but gone. The only remains were pulverised splinters and bits of wood that still hung from battered hinges.
Walking into the church's chapel they found a man lazily sitting on one of the battered pew's his cloak tossed to the side, taking lazy puffs of his cigarette. He glanced at the pair and let out a lazy sigh. "For what it's worth, I'd rather be at home sleeping." he drawled out in a lazy tone.
Sand snaked around at Naruto's will. Silent and deadly.
"I really wouldn't," the lazy stranger warned. "It's not like it would do you any good," he added.
Said sand lashed out, binding his arms and legs with relative ease, not that he resisted. Ruthless in his intent, Naruto clenched his fist pulverizing the man's arms and legs.
"Ugh, fuck that hurt…" he groaned.
"You'll live," Naruto scoffed, thoroughly done with stinger and any of his associates. Dropping him to the floor on mangled limbs. Eliciting another groan of pain from the man.
Naruto directed his attention to the simple case on the dais. "What is that?" he questioned the man.
"Hahaha hah, oh by the gods, I certainly did not think you would go straight for the throat kid." the man laughed, "I mean look at me, I'm a fucking mess now." He flopped on the ground, there was a sickening crack, and the distinct grinding of bones, "for what it's worth kid that hurt… like... hell," the man said, a hint of danger in his tone as he stood to his feet. His limbs restored.
"I'll be straight with you, kid, since you now have my attention." he ran his hands through his long hair, pulling it out of his eyes, tying it out of his face. "You can call me 'steely' Dan Shipman… second in command of the hounds, and to be honest I was going to let you have that case over there since I thought you were just a bunch of kids in over your heads."
Pyrrha paled when she heard that name. How could she not? It was a name she knew all too well. Daniel 'Dan' Shipman was infamous in Mistral before his capture. Back then he was known as 'the good doctor,' one of Mistral's premiere combat medics and surgeons, before what he really was came to light, before he was known as Dr. Death, the Surgeon of Death, Dr. Mercy. The unmistakable monster whose victims included the twenty huntsmen who were sent after him. Including her own mother, Victoria Nikos, the goddess of victory. In the past when news about him was still fresh. She was often told by her father before he drank himself into an early grave. As far as Dan was concerned, it was not the poor sods that lived who were lucky, no it was those who died. They were the lucky ones. The ones who did not have to live with a lifetime of crippling injuries and mental scarring. That left them husks of what they used to be. JUST… Like… HER… MothER!
She saw him just casually standing there. The man who crippled her mother and made it so her own mother did not even recognize her daughter. Who drove her father into an early grave through his obsession and drinking. The reason she lived with her aunt Vanessa.
He was older, a tad taller. But how could she not recognise the man who left such an indelible mark on her life? He was supposed to have been dead. She had her closure. So why-why-why-why-why was he here? Something inside her broke. She felt no anger, nor wrath, just cold, like a machine. Like all that was good in this world was gone. That was until she saw Naruto standing before her, like a huntsman, a defender, one who protects. Just like what she wanted to be. Steeling her nerves with an exhalation of breath. She stepped forward to face him. Taking a place right beside Naruto.
"Naruto, just hurting him won't do any good. It's because of an aspect of his semblance. He can transfer any physical wound from one person to another so long as he has touched them in the last seventy-two hours. Even his own wounds as well." she explained, drawing her spear.
"Right," he nodded. "Then the plan is Simple we break his hold on his victims by Breaking his Aura."
Pyrrha could not agree more; it was how he was cornered in the past. "Just don't let him touch you." she warned.
Dan was impressed. And here he was going to cut these kids some slack, give them the cure, let them off with just a severe maiming. Something to remember him by. But if the girl knew about his past. And even his semblance. Then that changed things. He would have to show them why he earned the epithet Steely. That he had long since grown stronger than in the past.
Naruto charged his foe, never giving him so much as a chance to draw a weapon. Bringing Samehada down in a crushing blow. Pyrrha fell instep right behind him, supporting Naruto from a distance, her weapon mecha-shifted from sword to gun. Each blow was meant to crush, to devastate, to maim, and more importantly to drain Dan of his vital aura. To break his hold on his victims as fast as possible. Samehada drank greedily with every strike, every parried blow, Naruto could feel it with every strike, the power flowing from Dan into the sentient blade. For all that, it mattered that he was fighting without so much as a dagger. Blocking each blow seamlessly with his bare hands. His flesh unyielding under the brutal assault of the scaled sword. He went for blows aimed at crippling, maiming, and where above all not immediately lethal. Not wanting to kill the hostages. Pyrrha dared not get within his range. Wary of falling under the sway of his power. Taking shots that kept Dan off balance. Supporting Naruto with her own iron sand.
Like a juggernaut with skin of steel, just like his name's sake, Dan endured what should have been a devastating blow from Naruto. He gripped Samehada in both hands, refusing with an unnatural strength that belied his build, to let go. A malicious grin spread across his visage. "Finally caught you." he sneered.
No matter how hard Naruto pulled, nor Pyrrha's sand that lashed at his back. His grip did not falter. What little of his skin that was broken healed almost instantly. Dan shifted his grip to one hand, winding up for a telegraphed punch.
Naruto's eyes flashed to crimson slits, if only for a second. In an instant, two things happened all at the same time. First was Samehada gorged itself greedily on the Highly potent corrosive Biju chakra. Growing to its full size, while Expelling the excess corrosive chakra through its scales, immediately ripping through and devouring Dan's right arm to the elbow. The Second was the cumulative force of a Shinra Tensei directed at Dan, knocking him off his feet and through the back wall. And into the parking lot of the cathedral.
As he landed on a mid-sized sedan with a rather loud crunch. Dan had to say it thoroughly impressed him. They certainly had his attention before if the girl knew about him, then it was the least they deserved. Pulling himself from the groaning metal of the vehicle with his one good arm he muttered, "well shit, that hurt."
Even now his wounds were mending, his hand regenerating rapidly. With his good hand, he fished around in his belt pouch. Retrieving his weapon. A pair of unique brass knuckles. Made of a gravity dust infused fire hardened steel- ceramic composite. These knuckles were a one of a kind, state-of-the-art weapon. He fished out a cigarette and his lighter; he scowled when he reached for the lighter, only to find it a crushed, mangled mess. With a sigh and in a flash and hiss of steam, his arm finished regenerating.
Flexing his newly grown hand in satisfaction, he slipped both knuckles on. They glowed a soft blue as they shifted. The meta material contained within covered his hands, forming a glove over both hands. While small claw-like talons emerged from the knuckles. Until now he had fought like a brawler. That was over. They had his attention now, full and undivided for better or worse.
He glared at the blonde through the hole in the wall his body had made, "you know it's been a while since I was hit that hard." Snatching the cigarette from his mouth he snarled, "now you have my attention, now that I can't even take the edge off." He crushed the cigarette in his hand.
This time when he charged, he was faster. Naruto met his blistering pace with a charge of his own. Swinging Samehada downward, intent on bisecting him from shoulder to hip.
Putting on a burst of speed, he closed the distance so fast that Naruto was left open. His stance like that of a boxer, with a sharp right jab, felt the meaty crunch of bone as he broke Naruto's left hand. Flowing into a devastating uppercut, he was sure that he had killed the boy when he felt the crunch of bone… something was not right. At the end there he knew he connected, but it felt hollow.
The boy who had crumpled to the ground lifeless, unmoving. Popped leaving behind only smoke and Samehada.
From atop the roof of the cathedral, Naruto said. "Gotta say… that… reeeally fucking hurt." the visceral gashes in his jaw exposing hints of bone rapidly mending, along with his limply hanging hand. "But I gotta secret of my own. I'm not a swordsman." eager to help his master, Samehada skittered up the building to deliver some of its pilfered power into Naruto. Rapidly closing his wounds faster than would be possible.
With those words said, he dropped Samehada. "Watch over her." he commanded of his blade.
When Naruto stepped off the roof. Dropping to the ground, Dan knew instinctively there was something different about the kid. The air about him, his posture, his demeanor, it all changed. It became something more, as if he were looking into an abyss and the sun at the same time and it stared back…
That was when Naruto retrieved a lone tri pronged kunai. "Don't blink or it'll be over in a flash." he warned. His words were ominous and foreboding. Foretelling of the awakening of something fierce. Something never seen on Remnant.
an/ enjoy the sample of my new work titled An Irregular Path To Hope.
Boot 1-1
I love fanfiction, honest I do. I love to see other's creative changes to a story. Who wouldn't, it's a chance to experience someone else's work. I had even gotten a kick out of the self insert genre. So what I would love for someone to tell me is why of all the places I had woken up it was in a cold dark alley. Last I had checked, I had fallen asleep after binging through an entire movie marathon. I knew it involved alcohol, hence my early retirement.
I knew my friends were bastards. But seriously, this is not the kind of prank that is acceptable. What's worse, I distinctly remember being taller and needing glasses. If this was one of their poorly thought out pranks, then I would be sorely displeased with them.
I heard laughter in the distance and people coming down the same alley I was in. Eagerly I hurried towards the sound. My now oversized shirt and pants barely clinging to my now diminutive frame. I would later note that yes, this was a poor decision and yes, I was still in denial about my current situation. Not only because of my state of dress, but because it was fucking cold. Something clearly obvious due to it being in the middle of winter and all. But again, I point to my lack of rational thinking for this foolishness on my part.
I would also remark that anyone who could act rational in this situation is a god damned dirty liar. Or most definitely a sociopath. One who would fit right in the crazy fucker's club.
So when I had come across some people who all looked like the Proud boys, darker edgier cousins. With there pro Nazi tattoos and paraphernalia. I thought I could at least have a somewhat civil conversation. It was 2021 after all the year of healing the divide. Biden had won, and there was nothing they could do about it. So I would try to act like the adults here in pointedly ignore their racist comments.
"Excuse me, but by chance could I borrow a phone. I seem to have lost mine and my friends have just played the nastiest of pranks on me." I asked.
It was only once the tallest of the bunch stepped into the light. Followed by a man and woman flanking him did I notice the masks.
One a mask in the form of a metal wolf, one a stylized full face tiger mask. And the last was the woman who wore what looked like a metal cage. It barely did the job of hiding her face. They looked kinda like ghetto Halloween rejects, if I was honest.
"Well, boys, it looks like we found ourselves a Fuckin sand rat on Empire turf," The big man jeered.
"Hey Hookwolf, weren't we looking for something for the rookie to do?"
As I took a step back. I did not like the way they were looking at me. Not one bit, not at all. Worse yet, there was something familiar about them, something niggling at the back of my mind.
"Veeder, out front and center." Hookwolf commanded. "It's time you proved your loyalty to the empire." He took a bat from one of the other men.
"Don't forget to have some fun. And become a man before you make it hurt."
'Empire, Hookwolf, Veeder?' Don't I know those names from somewhere? I thought.
Slowly they were surrounding me. And clearly this was the wrong place to be. So I turned and rabbited as fast as I could. And I would have probably made it too. Despite my short legs had it not been for whatever the hell it was that clipped me. All I knew was the mind melting agony that was my back being flayed.
"Would have made it quick once our boy here had his fun." Hookwolf sighed in frustration. As if he was doing me a favor here. "But really girl, it's your own fault for wandering in Empire 88 territory at night by yourself in Brockton bay. You filthy sand nigger," he put one of his massive boots on my back and pressed down hard. He pressed down so hard I was doubtful I could barely breathe, let alone run.
Wait what, the hell did he say Brockton Bay for? Better question, what the actual double fuck did he mean, girl?
"The fuck you doing, rook. You're just going to stand there or are you gonna man up and get this show on the road." The man who could only be Stormtiger roared. "The main man Hook even got her on her back for you."
That was right when Hookwolf kicked me as hard as he could because it sent me skipping down the length of the alley for a few feet and I felt something give in my side as I slid to roll on my back.
"R-Right boss." Greg nodded quickly.
"Rook here, take this, it'll help." Hookwolf said, slapping a knife into his hands. "Remember now it's either this or you go back to the pits. Now earn your keep."
The boy absolutely stiffened at that cruel remark, hurriedly making his way over to my crumpled form.
Putting everything about the revelations that I had, so helpfully discovered mere moments ago to the side for the moment. I channeled everything I had into flight.
I weakly struggled to my feet. It was a hard thing with my back looking like a cheese grater had been used to carve bloody ribbons from my hide. And the pain I felt with each gasping breath I took that only seemed to get harder and harder to take.
This… was definitely not a good sign.
I looked around for anywhere to go as the boy slowly approached, bat in one hand and the knife tucked into the back of his pants.
I was at the end of a dead-end alley with no side streets or even the ever helpful fire escape. Even were there a convenient escape, I doubted I could escape this not in my current condition.
and what's this a bonus preview of the next chapter... XD
"Well, Hello there children!" it was a simple greeting, and yet never did a greeting fill ren with such dread, such abject terror as that. The speaker stepped out of the alley about a block before he and Nora. His voice filled with such malice, such joy for unending suffering. It was as if he could see the pure malice flowing off of him, such that it was practically visible. Ren blinked rapidly. No, wait, he actually could see what looked like petals fluttering off of him as black as pitch mixed in with hints of a crimson lust, a bright amber unrestrained joy, and the sexual overtones of a rose pink. All stained somewhat by that corrupted black.
]|[
spoiled you guys rotten I did.
