Hello everybody who took the time to read or take a look at this story. Having gotten back into RWBY again, and finishing up my college career, I've decided to spend some time writing. Hopefully I will continue producing chapters and will try to spend some time each day writing to keep the gears within my mind sharp and turning.
This piece of fiction is an attempt to rewrite, or rather reimagine a story I had started nearly five years ago titled Electricity. The style of writing and the genre it will focus on has shifted greatly since then, but the seedling idea remains firm and central, although blossoming into something new.
Apologies for any grammar mistakes that I know, but can't see now, are there. I try for every chapter I write to proofread, but my skills in the English language remain less than ideal...which considering it's the only language I know is a bit disappointing. Regardless of that I hope you can enjoy the story regardless!
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Chapter 1
Even with a lack of the chemical components to enable such a catalyst of reactions, even without the crimson liquid to relay the package, and even with the absence of the very organic recipient that would process the signals being sent Penny felt wave after wave of euphoria fill her body. Although she could never compare the emotions she felt to a human being, or analyze any comparative data in the way she operated when in relation to a human, she felt her thought process forced the synthetic material that composed her skin and lips to life ever so slightly.
This order, possibly even a command by her programming, to do something so simple as cause her mechanical muscular system, through her equally engineered central and relayed nervous system, to produce a smile was in no means a hard task or display of the mechanical genius she represented. In truth the fluid body motions and surgical precise arcs of her forms and stance in combat that she had been, and was still doing, were far more complex on a machinery level than simply increasing the angles in which one's mouth presented itself in. However, the motions came to her easily regardless, and in her own sense of joy she figured it was well earned.
Standing across from her grin, one would be forgiven if they felt the girl was expressing a positive motion all too soon. With combed back fiery locks of crimson, none of which seemingly have surrendered to gravity yet to conceal the Spartan's deep emerald green eyes despite the near impossible physical forces employed by their owner, her opponent redirected another blow with dancer-like grace. Standing tall, and with her battle posture far from broken, said individual looked as if she hadn't even entered combat at all despite what the cheers and yells from the crowd were indicating. Nonetheless, the only sign to the naked eye that the golden and bronze armored goddess was physically in a battle was the sheen of sweat she had, that in all honestly only seemed to make the shield and spear wielding champion glow under the light of their shared shattered moon.
However, the reason for Penny's large display of emotions was due to the very fact that its user in no way possessed human iris. The moment Penny and Pyrrha had disengaged from their brief exchanges of blows, each attack and movement offering evidence and analysis for both opponents to use as they sized up their tournament advisory, the synthetic being enhanced her optical receptors on the golem of flesh and will. Where spectators and even other students saw an angel in the mist of glorious, albeit friendly, battle, the pastel haired Penny could deduce so much more.
A shallow breath, she thought as lines of codes birthed consciousness, the first one she's produced throughout all her engagement in the length of this competition
Now the logical part of her programming, to which she assumed was her code in its entirety, had already begun charging every variable reason why this sudden sharpness in breath was needed. Being the first single stage round either combatant had been in, she could simply not have been observed experiencing this level of intensity in environments where she could rely on teammates to break up the repetition of one on one duels, whether out of area of effect attacks or planned or accidental interference. However, the data was quite clear in showing that Pyrrha, in testament to her prodigal level of skill, was responsible for engaging in forty percent of her team's combat in the first round, and sixty-two percent in the second. With some brief engagements in the first round resulting in her fighting all three combats without assistance, and many moments in the second round where she handled both foe's simulations. In all cases the ember haired spartan hadn't so much as broken a sweat, let alone suck in biological life's fuels in such a haphazard manner.
No Pyrrha was being tested for the first time in the tournament for it was designed to be so. All Penny's moves and abilities, her very weapons themselves were made to forge a mode of range combat that was able to strike with the devastating power and speed that an aura assisted melee attack could unleash. The mistral champion, while astonishing at close quarter and weapons combat, had never had to spar with a magnetically levitated sword before, let alone multiple of them at once with no wielder behind the attacks to counterstrike. In truth Penny was the perfect Pyrrha destroying instrument, with a mechanically designed fighting style that completely negated the Spartan's, and most melee fighters, basic training. Having honed her body since she could wield a sword, spear, and shield, the fiery red head from Mistral had spent her most influential childhood years being drilled in the art of attacking opponents who physically wielded their blade. Even her training consisting on combating hunter and huntress that specialized in firearms and other ranged forms of weapons could not be utilized properly in this fight. While she was in no sense of the word inaccurate with her spear when shifted into its long range projectile slinging form, it was always an addition to the weapon to help her close the distance between her and an opponent that was too far away even for her inhuman levels of speed. The rifle was something that was used in tangent with her shield, allowing her to fire off a short burst of rounds, less to hit the target but more to suppress them and throw off their sight so she could safely move forward tucked behind her shield. However, such a strategy would prove fatal here, especially because the opponent she faced was not just fighting her at range, but somehow was doing so with melee combat. The irony of the situation was that she was not losing to the fighting style she, relatively speaking, had the least knowledge of combating but rather its combination with the close quarter form she excelled in. She was facing something new, and that is what was throwing her off. What will continue throwing her off and making her muscles have to move in more haphazard ways not programmed into their own unique form of memory. By taking away her basic forms and defensive styles she had perfected throughout her entire fighting career, Pyrrha was left, or more so forced, with improvising new ways to dodge, counter and defend against a fighter style she was just first seeing.
With her naturally attuned combative mind, and genius level intellect when it came to fighting, the spartan could perhaps devise a way to properly utilize her skills to effectively work around this unique form of ranged melee. In truth it would probably only take her a week or so to do so, only contributing to her prodigy status. However, the champion simply did not have the benefit of time, and even worse it was an ally that now was thoroughly against her. For she, slowly but surely, was running out of endurance and stamina. And even if she did not know it yet, that was a field in which she could never gain the upper hand against Penny, no matter how vigorously she trained. For the robotic girl before her was built to represent Atlas's engineering strength and the new breed of warriors the northernmost nation could produce, even if the crowd and fellow huntsmen and huntresses were still in the dark on what she truly was…well almost all of them were in the dark.
Conjuring thoughts that, for the first time since the combat started, did not directly relate to her opponent Penny's mind processed information on a different red head of a much darker shade. Although never taking her optics of her opponent, the mechanical girl's smile could only grow at the image of Ruby congratulating her when her victory was finalized. Running onto the field and regaining some semblance of joy for the tournament itself through Penny triumph when it was almost taken away in its entirety through Yang's act of brutality against another competitor. If the artificial Atlesian was in any different type of environment she would have paused her scripted train of thought, and diverged some processing power into questioning why the Blonde Boxer's acted in such a dishonorable way, and maybe even try to determined how such an event would affect the tournament bracket specifically the championship match. However, such simulation could not be theorized for the only thoughts that involved the Xio Long Family now were how she could rejoice with the youngest one when her name showed bright with the name victor underneath.
Such an outcome was so close that Penny could almost taste it, well what she assumed tasting it would feel like if she had the proper organ and nervous system to experience such sense. Regardless of that however, the robot's vibrant green irises narrowed, "I must thank you for the wonderful experience miss Nikos, this fight has truly been a spectacle to behold"
Perhaps if she was organic the Atlesian android would continue that sentence, ending it with some sort of taunt or decree how she could now finish the fight, and given Pyrrha's confused glare back the Spartan certainly thought Penny was going to finish the sentence. However, such an act would only produce more risk of the enemy spartan being on a higher guard. A statistical disadvantage, that no matter how slight it may have been, could only tip the scale to increase Pyrrha's chances of victory. The look on confusion from the incomplete thoughts on the other hand opened up a moment of opportunity that could only produce the opposite effect.
Shooting out a coordinated dual strike, Penny launched three blades high and three low, forcing the spartan girl to jump into the air and take a horizontal position to dodge the strike through the opening in the middle. To all the onlookers, this move looked gracefully done, but to the hunters, even the first-year ones, they could tell that by prodigy level standards, the move was done rushed. And in consequence of being done through pure instinct rather than volunteered thought, the Spartans eyes dilated all too late at the realization she launched herself into a false opening. A manufactured defensive hole that while a brief escape, but her in an aerial environment with no time to avoid what came next.
Unfortunately for the Mistral redhead, this reaction could only be thought of, and as her porcelain skin opponent shot forward two hands, she could only tense her muscles up to brace the upcoming blow. Darting out in a perfectly straight line, the edge of two short swords struck the Spartan's midsection and forehead straight on. Given the protection of aura, this blow could in no way pierce the skin or bone protecting her precious organs as it would a normal individual. However, what could not be negated was the kinetic energy and the aura consumptions that now transferred itself into her body unimpeded.
Getting knocked to the stadium floor, Pyrrha, for the first time since she began her training so many years ago, felt an artificially produced reaction to vomit only made worse by the ringing in her head. As if her skull was just rung, which in a sense actually was as the swords now floated back towards Penny, forming a pattern behind her that resembled a sun just peeking over the horizon. Although for Pyrrha these silver and emerald rays could produce no comforting heat, just the onset of cool metallic pain.
She is hesitating to get up, and has not reflectively taken a define stance, the mechanical breakthrough began as she was now assured the champion before her had experience her first bout of actual physical discomfort, The prime opportunity to send her out of the ring has been produced
With her smile growing, Penny's mind in fact begin to wander as her swords began to form from the shape of a waking sun to that of a life ending cannon, In fact that hit may have also pushed her aura into a critical state meaning I could achieve a complete victory rather than a pure strategic one
Of course if the robots mind, or rather digital chip, was interpreting data as it did normally, she could easily come to the conclusion that while damaged the mistral natives aura pool was still slightly above half, and through a half second calculation her computerized brain would deduce that, even a direct heat with her magnetic wave accelerator, the math wasn't there to drop the physical embodiment of her soul to level that would insure a knockout. However, much like how all the moves of chess could be calculated, but only appear for the first time in rare occasions, Penny's coding was producing new images counter to that of the logic it should focus on in the situation,
Images of a rose petals weaving their way down the stands, only to morph into joyously red headed girl at the last minute as she was embarrassed in a friendly hug, blocked out the actual sight of Pyrrha's eyes growing wide in terror as they helplessly tried to flee into the pupils void. Imagined pictures of Ironwood producing a small, but by his standards, historically proud smile as he patted her shoulders, left her blind to the reality of her swords shooting forwards towards a girl who, on the verge of crying out in absolute fear, shot her hands forward producing a magnetic field that surged through the stadium. The beeps of Penny's own sensors, screaming at her of the danger she now faced, were met with depth ears, as the sight of her father celebrating her victory back in Atlas took over her thoughts. The mental conjuring of him speaking her praise, speaking his real daughter's praise, at her own accomplishment, drowned out the noise of her swords clanking against each other as they now forsaken their owner and danced towards Penny's open eyes.
The fabricate universe the mechanical girl felt, that she made, was all to delicious for her to realistically leave, and for the first time ever her own emotions conquered her computers logic...however as the true enemy of physics emerged in a terrifying painless noise of metal stripping metal, Penny was literally, figuratively, metaphorically, and forcefully torn back into reality. Coming to the conclusion all too late, that logic was never her enemy, but an ally trying to assist her through reality's hostile territory. But the battle was over, and logic could only now watch in horror as the brutal forces of the cosmos unleashed their primal weapons.
The increased processing speed in which Penny could analyze the world, the very thing that made her fight with Pyrrha so thrilling and so doable, now came back to haunt her in the worst possible sense of the word. Time was slowed down, and the wires she had viewed as a core part of her now sank into her metallic frame. The synthetic skin, the illusion of humanity that she was designed to have, proved to be a less than efficient barrier when her aura was depleted. Were as the outer lay of all humans and Faunus protected them from bacteria and virus meant to disrupt their cellular reproduction, Penny's was mere show, a propagandic stunt to make her appear more human and pleasing to the citizens of Atlas and Mantle, to the whole of remnant in truth.
It's the weakest part of me, it doesn't even perform a function beyond illusion, and it is the simplest thing to remove. It is not even necessary to my survival, just a shell, Watching the synthetic structure of flesh be divided and snapped, all within the matter of milliseconds, the robotic girl could only watch her own destruction curiously. Perhaps it was due to her emotions, new and old ones that she experienced in such glorious new ways, being taken away so fast that her mind now reverted back to its simplest function. A program meant to observe and react to changes, almost as if logic had reverted back to, an ironic, animalistic level of thinking when presented with the concept of an inevitable outcome, If I was a human right now I'd be screaming in pain...if I was a human I wouldn't even have time for these calculation
The word calculation had never been uttered, or rather conjured, with such an air of monotonous. Normally Penny would avoid it all together, much preferring the organicness of thought to the mechanical chill produced by inputs and outputs. But as she now sat here in the moments between moments, watching icy metal tear through icy metal could she even lie to herself anymore on what was happening. Was this accidental autopsy, both in application and observation, not proof of her origin?
The steel alloy seems to be holding up superior to the skin, if this was part of my outer shell then perhaps I could have had proper time to react to mitigate the damage and reflect the wound to pierce none vital processing unit, or the central power cells, as if on cue however this analyzed was interrupted by the metallic frame finally giving way, well the one composing her arm at least, the wire ensuring her torso would take a few more microseconds to follow suit, Simulation from this event should be process to ensure the functionality of the next unit, the female anonymity produces slightly more weak points based on narrow midsection compared to male. If marketing and pubic appear still is a crucial feature a masculine design should be taken, although would not reverse the outcome of this event for both humanoid forms are less than ideal for combat or intense structural support
Watching as her arm now fly off in a slightly different direction with a trail of emerald fuel succumbing to inertia, and as the pressure senses broke beneath the torse now being pierced, Penny's artificial consciousness dwells on the observation she just recorded, Her, male, gender, all revolve around a biological build. Biology revolves around being alive, to not only interact with the environment but to feel it as well. I do not feel the pain of my limbs being shredded, that requires nerves to scream out as the bone above them caves in and I have no bones nor any nerves. If I have no bones then out the even limbs, my hands move, but not because of a neurological connection. If programmed in a different way I could grasp objects with a claw or pincer any distance away from the processor giving it the command.
Vision begins to fade, as the invisible strings now bisected the wiring that connects her power supply to her digital camera she once prided on being actual eyes, Being programmed means I am built, humans are not built they are born, animals are not built they are raised. I enter existence being able to complete a task already devised, none of which pertain to my own survival or reproduction. Survival of course can only be associated with biological organisms, with creatures that fear death. If I cannot complete these functions, then I am not biological. If I am not biological, then am I even alive.
As if by some cruel act of timing by reality, sparks begin to shoot from Penny's body, the exposed wiring now interacting violently with the flammable fuels unleashing mini explosions that speed even surpass the mechanical beings skewed perception. Ushered on these shock waves, the logical part of her now clashes with the illusion of emotion her programming unleashed.
Is life simply a state reserved for those creatures that cannot just think but feel as well. Do my emotions even count as emotions if they aren't chemically produced. If so I should be terrified at this moment, should be screaming for help because I'm in pain and I don't want to die. But if I sense no pain, I don't even know what that would feel like, I don't even know what I sense as touch even qualifies as feeling or if it, and all the other senses I receive are pale imitations of something I can never give.
As the connection was finally severed, Penny's world went dark, although she questioned if she even knew what dark and light truly were, as the rest of her artificial nervous system was turned to shreds taking all the ones and zeroes that manifested into senses with them. She was now just a computer encased in a doll, a puppet with both no and too many strings, in a world she could no longer interact with and worse questions if she had ever interacted with. With the energy cells now shattered and reduced to ionic blood in a few minutes her central processor would give way, and with that so would her fabricated consciousness.
Is this dying, if I'm not even alive can I die or have I always just been dead. Do I wait to just have my parts resembled and I'm turned back on not experiencing the passage of time in between? Is death just reserved for life, after all you have to be alive to die, and if I'm not alive then this can't be death. If this isn't death then I...I'm not an I. I'm not human, I'm not alive, and I'm not dying because I don't exist, just a collection of inorganic material pretending to be sentient. These aren't even thoughts, just the output of programs to mimic freewi-
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Time is a unique structure to the universe; distance is as well which is probably why they are so intermingled in the fabric of it all. However, both our units of measurement involve changing weather that are due to atom decay or simply being in a location you weren't previously...but if nobody is around to experience these differences to observe the results, do they even exist? A rock's atom may interact with another when they clash together in space, but the proton, neutrons, and electron making it up do not have sentience, they react to what's happening, but they do so based on the laws of the universe not out of conscious choice. In some regard it does, the rock, even without an outside observer, still travels a distance, and it's atoms still change over time. The rock itself just doesn't know this for it can't think or process what's happening.
Rather than time not existing because no one is around to view it, a more accurate statement is that time is viewed differently by those who can think about it. Time triggers emotion in beings that can understand it, or rather sentient beings react in such a way that they produce comprehension. I rock and a bacterium in fact experience time far differently than a human would, despite both the bacteria and bipedal ape being "alive". For why the bacteria and humans both react to the stimulus forged by time and distances, only one can think about it. And thus, sentience is born, meaning life is a path to sentience but not all living things our sentient and thus view time in this unique way. This then begs the question of if life is the only way to produce sentience or if there are multiple paths to the lens in which time can be seen with such emotional reactions and biology is merely one of them.
Of course, this is all philosophical debate forged in the minds of humans, and other sentient life, that could not possibly understand how such a different mode of existence would be formed. But that does little to take away from the importance of time, and less so of the emotions now being produced by those who can feel its effect.
Although Penny could not see what was going on as she thought of her own existence, or rather lack thereof in her own confused and differently terrified mind, the world kept turning and she still interacted with it even if she could no longer react to outside stimulus in ways not dedicated by the laws of physics. While she had lost the ability to measure the passing of seconds, her core remained untouched as panic filled the stadium and dread rang through the air. She sat unmoving as students now became soldiers, only releasing now the horror that role encompassed. She sat as the friend she wished to embrace stood over her broken pieces, clenching the weapon that had forsaken her to defend her killer. The reapers own grief and sadness so potent in the stadium that she could not even cry properly.
As seconds merged with minutes, and minutes with hours, Penny remained a brain devoid of a body. Waiting for the energy to run out as screams of a massacre reigned onto a being that could not hear, sights of slaughter shone to a creature with no eyes, and the pungent scent of death filled the nostrils of a machine with no noise. But where the senses of this anarchy against life lay spread out amongst the city, the emotions they carried all centralized back here, to the moment they all stemmed from and could credit for their existence. The fear, terror, and horror were dense in the central arena in every literal sense of the word.
But that was what was planned, and with plans came planners. Stepping through the battlefield and indented stone of the tournament's central area came harbingers of death. Beings who sought out this destruction on the run from their own fear, or worse mere sadistic pleasure. Regardless they had come, in the form of two doubtful frowns, a smile, and dangling teeth.
"The communication towers have been disabled and from the naked eye it'll take years to fully fix. We still don't know what that flash of light was atop beacon b-", a young man, just past the cusp of adulthood began to state his piece. With hair as grey as stone, and a posture that could hide the uneasiness he felt, he stood cladded in a colorless jacket. Having worn one of the frowns, he had simply decided to break the silence amongst his...compatriots. Why such an antonym became the closest words to describe most of those now around he would never know but long since accepted. Listing off information that had silently been known among all, in an attempt to speed up what was about to happen.
"The 'light' is of no concern, the maiden has been defeated and the fear her death produces to those who are smart enough to cower is more than enough, better yet the potential it sets by those who were deemed to ignorant to miss her now will serve the movement greatly", as if on cue the boys plan seemed to work flawlessly, but judging by his reaction he almost wished it didn't. Hovering before him a truly grotesque creature float. Cancerous in its appearance, it shows itself to the word as a blob of nightmare fueled flesh. Blacken and crimson, it dangles out tentacles dripping with barb teeth. How it speaks is a question no biologist would want to answer, and the only thing more unsettling about the process in which it produces noise is the voice that comes out. Carrying with it a demonic smile, the tone sweetly cuts through the air, seemingly producing its own echoes so all can be disturbed by it twice, "Of course having just killed two gods with no stones I must hold back some of my joy as to not alter or tamper with the ingredients now in place, and the future resources now emerging"
Both the silver clad figure who had broken the silence, and his fellow frown that he roped into this unneeded situation grimaced as the words met their ears like molasses. So much discomfort was absorbed within the audible receptor that the young man subconsciously moved closer towards or rather slightly behind his fellow fake adult, as if her darken skin and emerald clothing could redirect the wave of despair.
No more than teenagers pretending to be adults, they've known little about this aspect of their job description, so this reaction was to be somewhat expected of people of such youth. However, this did not free them from having some knowledge on what was about to transpire and what little they were aware made them all too certain that this was something they couldn't back out of.
Taking an opposite approach, the lone grin, well lone physical grin anyway, among the group took a step forward towards the diseased and corrupted gelatinous blob. With dangly arms, and an unsettling moving belt, with more lumps and texture to it than his identical pitch black colored ponytail, the white vested individual eyes shined with childlike enthusiasm, and his voice echoed that,
"Yes, it is such a condensed form of misery, I can almost pluck it from the air and devour the fear itself. The smell alone is driving me mad, please please please allow us to continue. There is so much more of this to produce, a world filled more that will overflow all atmospheres", the lanky man, moving with such inorganic, or perhaps too organic, movements stretch out his arms as if to embrace the terror that surrounded him, and as if competing against the abyssal jellyfish for most disturbing occupant in the vicinity, lashed out his tongue to physically lick the air.
Finally reaching her breaking point the forest green clothed girl, hands slowly drifting down to her kunai scythe side arm on mere instinct, attempts to follow her comrade lead and move behind him for cover. Unfortunately, with both individuals craving silence communication above all else, this starts an unspoken game, of each one trying to subtly move into position behind the other to take advantage of them as a human shield. Under normal situation this would only cause the attention of the two creatures their trying to avoid turning to them, however, luckily enough their thought process is thoroughly elsewhere,
"Patience is a virtue, although one that is overrated at the same time, do not worry my dear you will eat your fill before the eternal peace is realized", the mother tone of the voice came out distorted, more like a owner speaking to their dog. A tone of care for sure, but one born out of superiority, "but I suppose you have waited long enough for this feast. Regrettably I do not know much of the existence I now send you forth"
As the blubbering ball of flesh spoke, the tendrils began to rise, and with it the emotion in the air began to turn physical, the human invention, the life invention, gaining matter as if vortexes towards the creature, "However my dreams have glimpsed into the disease, and I know all to well the curse has spread there as well. And with the cancer came the man, who thought his relics could be hidden not just beneath the earth but among the stars as well"
The feelings condensed, and the young man and women could feel their own agony and fear over this display of leave their body. Feel as, even when it was disconnected from their souls, it condenses into a black matter, and join the stream of despair as it condensed around the avatar of grim. Feel as the emotions were compressed into an artificial pit in reality were no soul or emotion could escape, and then very light and sounds of the arena bent to its will, all submitting to its power save the creature who summoned such a disrespectful act of nature,
"They can hide among their filth, and grow without my influence for a time, but they can never escape it fully for they can never escape themselves. My hounds have now smelled their chaos and I come to give them all deliverance. The emotions of remnant now fuel the flames of their brethren's damnation, as we drag both into the void of salvation", through the inky black of pure density, a blue light emerged, more so a dot that outlined itself in a emerald and beige silhouette, "now embark my angles, my demons, and richters. This moment is brief, but the ramification echo throughout two worlds"
Like a dog being dragged away from his owner, the sinister smile adorning the joyous one briefly dips, but returns no more than two seconds later as his direction shifts to the dying light within the void. Saying more with his actions than words, he looks towards his two playthings, with a sadistic grin, before crawling towards the abyss with hideous laugh, only made worse by his decision to embrace this in his movement. Bounding towards the gravitational anomaly on all fours, his form distorted even before it began to visibly fly through the air as physics took hold. His limbs, already lanky, became grotesque as they stretched from their sockets further, with his smile only growing wider and wider as well. With his feet still levitating mere centimeters off the ground his hands entered the portal nearly half the length of the arena away.
The enthusiastic stench he produced as he slurped up was present in the air, seemingly disrupting the negative emotions that fueled the apparatus, but the disgust and fear it produced from the two that would follow him seemed to counteract his effect. Despite only taking a few moments of time for him to complete his way through, his presence and display made it feel like hours to emerald and silver figures now parallel with each other. Finally coming to the confusion that an extra set of aura would do as little as the flesh it shielded in terms of protecting them, as the tail end of his now meter long toes fully disappeared beyond the event horizon,
"Well now, it would be rude of you two not to follow the leader", the voice still carried a calm and parental tone, but even as the creature turned it did little to move the remaining two operative feet. Their hesitation came not from them about to voice a verbal rejection, for their fear of her compared to the event they just witnessed was hardly worth putting on a scale. Hell, even their terror of the unknown was like comparing a matchstick to a wildfire when put up against the vile filled blob. However, this would not stop them from instinctually planting their feet into the ground, their bodies taking hold of their will for a mere fraction of a second in an attempt to avoid what their mind had already determined was inevitable. But as fated to be, such moments between moments would be enough to alter the course of this destiny, "Do not be afraid, it is a simple matter of hitting life with a run-"
A flash is what these added seconds had cost them all, a simple display of white light that pitifully fell upon a darkness that effortlessly absorbed it. The indifference towards the artificial light was not a feeling shared by everyone in the vicinity however, and the air that drenched itself in disgust now unleashed a small flare of anger igniting the world.
In the brief moment crimson, gray, and a far-off chocolate pair of eyes widen in the realization that the creature before them was conjuring this black hole, but rather was its source. The match end that contained the chemical components to feed off the atmosphere to produce flame. Able to be the catalyst of turning fear into density, but with the added dose of rage it began to break apart. The bubbling bile shattered what was left of the concrete stone beneath their feet. Launching everyone skyward as it continues to tera itself to shred piece by piece, until not even its maker could piece together the scattered images it now sent.
Unfortunately for all involved, their position won from gravity's defeat and was not liberated by the force quickly. In fact, being one of the same, the portal ceased its function as a door between worlds and, violently expanded and contracted as if gaining a body and mind of its own screaming out in its own version of pain, shifted into an inescapable trap. With nobody left to see it except those that fell towards the whirlpool of hate nobody could observe the distance they would travel. Nobody would observe the two screams that yelled the others name when consumed by the void, nor would anyone hear the third that screech the truth as it involuntarily followed. Nobody would know as matter in the form a doll would drift like a broken raft into the atmospheric sea. And nobody would know of the box's that contained its soul following its body into the inky unknown at the last moment. Sneaking in through the window between worlds, as the one it surrounded finally formulated its annexation force. With no noise or sounds of death, the electric covered mind would be dragged through a dying anomaly as all reality weapons lined up for soldiers and snapped the intrusion closed.
