Lmao bitches im back :)
Armour: Brimflame (Vanity- Rags)
Weapon: Winter's Fury, Undine's Retribution, Stormfront Razor
Acc(11/11): The Bee, Celestial cuffs, Mana Flower, Sorcerer Emblem, Cryo Wings, Ankh Shield, Deific Amulet, TerraSpark Boots, Grand Gelatin, Permafrost's Concotion, Evasion Scarf. (Unlimited Buffs)
Health: (120/500)
Armour: Molten Armour (Vanity - Standard)
Weapon: Uzi (High-Velocity Bullet); Molten Bow (Ichor Arrows); Arkhalis
Acc(12/12): Charm of Myths, Ankh Shield, Terraspark Boots, Luxor's Gift, Deific Amulet, Counter Scarf, Crown Jewel, MOAB, Harpy Ring, Aero Stone, Skyline Wings, Warrior Emblem, Sniper Scope
Health: (400/400)
This city...
It's a terrifying thing.
A living, breathing beast. A whole organism made of thousands upon thousands. Some parts run smoothly - the merchants and the banks. I see people signing papers and exchanging gold coins. I see flying ships docking in to offload their crates, and those crates are cracked open - their innards sorted and whisked away to whence they are needed. I see industry and construction, men with helmets and tools scrambling up and down scaffoldings and building great towers of wood and steel and stucco. With ease, they band together to accomplish things that they cannot do alone. Individually, they are weak, but together they've made this terrifying city.
A large and powerful system, a well oiled machine.
The seat of Tyrant Yharim's power.
(Did you see him?! What do the Eyes say?)
(In this block, definitely. Cordon it off and evacuate the citizens. Keep driving him. The Eyes will do the work once we get him into the sky.)
(Hey! He's running! Get Medical! Man down.)
"Shit! Urgh!"
A whizz, then another horrific pain tears through my shoulder. A splatter of blood issues forth, painting the cold cobblestones in flecks of blood, but I simply continue sprinting. Another bullet goes through my back and out my stomach and I respond with a whispered curse and a tight turn into the nearest alleyway. How many does this make? Thirteen? Fourteen? I'm too prideful to allow myself to be poked full of holes, but... but what else can I do? I've already killed ten or twenty of the pursuing CC Agents, but for every one I cut down another takes its place. They surround me even as I run, they are teams ready to meet me at every turn. On the rooftops. On the ground. Hidden inside buildings, sniping from towers. They attack with stinging bullets and carefully coordinated traps. Nets laid in my path, tripwire and explosives. I've been shocked twice. I've been gassed once. My mind is a mess, my mana is sluggish in my veins and my mirror doesn't work.
... and I'm beginning to panic.
My footsteps beat against the ground. My heart beats against my ribcage. I can hear myself. I'm panting like a dog. My breath is ragged and desperate, and my thoughts are all jumbled together, rattling around in my brain as bullets fly past my ears. What is happening! What is going on?! I'm The Hero. I'm strong. I can kill a thousand of these men, yet they're hunting me like an animal! Filled with indignance, I turn and, from my palm, hastily issue a blast of energy at my closest pursuers. A row of buildings vanish... yet despite the destructive power of my strikes, the brief pause only earns me a bullet hole through my elbow. My arm flops backwards briefly before mending itself, and the pain cuts my ego down. I have no choice but to continue to flee.
(He's headed northwest, towards The Castle. Maintain the perimeter. We can't let him teleport out.)
(Delta Fall back. Don't get caught in The Witch's Miasma. No headshots, careful to hit extremities only.)
I spread icy wings and, with a mighty leap, fly from the ground into the rooftops - careful to stay clear of the 'Sky Trap's flickering borders. What is this strange contraption? Glowing blue and composed of lasers? Could it really trap me? I'd rather not risk it. Overhead the moon and the stars watch the circus below. The Twin eyes sit low upon the clouds, their mismatched pupils tracking me with pinpoint accuracy. My vision swims as I scramble from rooftop to rooftop, dodging bullets when I can, enduring them when I cannot. I... I don't know how much more of this I can take. Although I have full function of my body, I know the damage is building up. Why can't I escape! Yharim isn't even present yet I still cannot hold my own against him. I'm being taken down by his city alone! What's going to happen to me? Why did I even come here!?
You came in a rage - without a single plan in your head.
I grit my teeth and fix my eyes ahead upon the high castle walls. The... The castle? Why would they drive me to the castle? Shouldn't the soldiers and guards of this city fight to keep me away from the palace? What could they be planning? Wha-
*whizzz*
"Gack! Fuck!"
I'm interrupted by a bullet through the earlobe. It grazes my temple and blood briefly spills down my neck before the wound closes. The pain drives me to run. The pain exacerbates my panic. I'm scared. I'm as scared as I've ever been, and I flee and flee, chased by traps and bullets, towards the castle wall until-
(Target's going in. Get the hooks ready. Do The Eyes have target?)
(Stay sharp, we're almost done here.)
...until suddenly the air turns to molasses.
So heavy with malice, I stumble and keel over right there on the rooftops. My knees hit the shingles and miasma fills my head. I gasp and gag on the overwhelming scent of death and violence. What is this? The prickling of roaring brimflame. The songs of pitch black despair. This feeling... could it be The Fair-Faced Clone? Impossible. I watched her dissolve to ash... no - this sensation is something far, far more potent. I clutch at my throat and retch. Had there been things in my stomach to expel, I certainly would have expelled them. My vision flickers. There are tears streaming down my cheeks. Something pierces me beneath the collarbone, and then... I'm hurled into the sky.
"He was shot eighteen times?"
The Cyborg whistled as leaned over an annoyed code-monkey to analyze the footage The Twins were sending back to base for parsing. Three figures danced on the screen, the one in the center far smaller than its flanks - yet he flew and floated on graceful wings as he whirled through the air, casting magic and dodging fireballs. It really was an impressive sight- not merely his dexterity, but also his destructive power. This was no ordinary mage... but then again, this was no ordinary fight. Despite that The Resistance Hero was his enemy, The Cyborg didn't have much of a verbal filter and lavished his praise unbidden.
"I sure wish I could move like that after getting shot once, much less eighteen times, hot damn!"
"Yeah, yeah... you can go propose to him if he survives. Get the hell out of here if all you're gonna do is drool over a terrorist!"
The Cyborg raised his eyebrows and looked down upon the very annoyed man he had squeezed halfway out of his workspace. The poor office worker glanced alternatively between the screen and The Cyborg with increasing levels of distress and annoyance respectively. Such a thing was expected. After all, everyone in this room made their living operating The Twins, and if The Twins got smashed to pieces, then they were out of a job. Although The Cyborg could understand their plight, he couldn't say he cared as much as he should. Draedon had built to the Twins and Draedon had decided to destroy them in this reconnaissance foray. The Cyborg didn't have much to say about whether this was a wise decision or not (he'd been trained not to question his orders), but he did know that this was the right of a creator.
"Oh? Propose to him! Haha, you silly goose!"
But The Cyborg, despite that he had a cruel job, was not a cruel man. He grinned and responded to the soon-to-be jobless Surveillance operator with some frat humor. Unlike the majority of CC agents, who preferred to March around all hooded and threatening-like, The Cyborg had made himself a somewhat amusing nuisance to every Department he was assigned to. The common people did not fear him, and that didn't bother him at all. Although his DNA was spaghetti and genetically he probably didn't qualify as a human, he sure was loved like one. The annoying ridiculously powerful robo-cop amalgamation who spewed an endless stream of weak humor and would probably help you with your luggage if you caught him in a good mood. That's how the people saw him, and he was happy enough with that image, especially considering the dour reputation of the Clandestine Corps.
He slapped The Code Monkey good naturedly on the shoulder.
"But you seriously think I've got a chance?! I guess I'm pretty handsome... I'd consider trying it except that if he doesn't kill me, my girlfriend definitely will. Ah- look he took down the red one! Aw man, is this gonna make recon harder for us?!"
"Yes you lout! Ugh!" The Code Monkey turned and shouted at the rest of the office, all of which were as equally stressed as he. They had all been required to pull double shifts and not only were they grumpy, but also watching their job security get blasted to bits in real time. Some of them rolled their eyes at him. Others just huffed and stared nervously at their screens. They seemed equally as annoyed with The Code Monkey as they were The Cyborg.
"Who the hell let this Agent in here?! Somebody get him out please! I'm having a crisis, and he's cracking jokes!"
"Holy hell! You guys put a flamethrower into the Twins!? Damn that's a sight I'd never thought I'd see, it look so cool! How did you do that?! That's crazy!"
Of course, security wouldn't dare try to kick out any other CC member, and especially not a 4th generation 'monster', but The Cyborg's reputation preceded him. He was well known to be a good-natured youth, so one of the guards walked up to shake him by the shoulders, temporarily drawing his attention from the exciting battle on-screen.
"Hey, c'mon kid. You're gonna make the poor guy's brain snap in half. Back off from there, would'ya?"
The Cyborg didn't even bother turning to address the security guard. He was quite enraptured by the battle on-screen and made his pleas three inches from the computer monitor.
"C'mon Copper, please! You can't pull me away mid-fight! We weren't allowed to watch TV at all in the lab, so I'm making up for lost time. Just until the end, okay? I promise I'll go right after."
A bit of grumbling and complaining later, The Code monkey went to sit with one of his coworkers and The Cyborg had the cubicle all to himself. The Security guard stayed beside him, supposedly to watch him, but more likely to also watch the battle. It was rather entertaining to see the ever-present twin moons whipping around like that, spewing lasers and flames as they tracked their target's every move. To be completely honest, The Cyborg had been under close surveillance for so long, constant monitoring didn't really bother him. But he could understand how some people didn't want a room of code monkeys knowing their every move.
(Blood sample obtained)
*tzzzzz...crunch*
The Green Twin was looking quite bad, leaking fluids and nuts and bolts. Many of its teeth were broken (frankly, The Cyborg had no idea it was built with teeth) but it had managed to grab The Resistance Hero by the arm, piercing through his armour and siphoning his blood. A bunch of biological information immediately flashed up on the screen - which The Cyborg immediately swiped away. He was more interested in the action - even if it was to be short lived.
"Aw man... what a scary guy!"
For although it took less than an hour for The Resistance Hero to defeat The Twins, they really weren't 'weak' by any standard of the word. They were two tremendous metal orbs equipped with anti-gravity magic, a set of lasers and - apparently - teeth. No normal person could defeat The Twins on their own... well, perhaps that was obvious, but after watching them in battle - The Cyborg was doubtful if his entire squad of agents could face The Twins in head-to-head combat and survive more than five minutes. It really was a wonder The CC agents on the ground managed to chase The Hero down and corral him into The Sky Trap. Those lucky bastards were probably in for a fat bonus.
*Crack*
*Crunch*
*Tzzz...*
There's a rumbling as The Green Twin's camera goes into a sickening tumble. The scenes displayed on the camera roll from earth to sky to earth again until The Cyborg can barely make out which he is looking at. Finally, it comes to a stop with a crash. The Camera's lens has landed face up, and the screen captures The Resistance Hero descended upon it with outstretched wings. At this proximity, the damaged machinery picks up sound recordings.
The Hero lands and reaches down, tearing the camera out of the great mechanical eye with an uncanny ease. He hoists it up and levels it to his face. It's stained with blood and black oil, but clearly any wounds he might have sustained in battle had already closed. His eyes burned like coals against his pale face and he spoke with a determined coldness.
*kzzt-...You hear me, don't you?*
"I sure do, Hero! Incredible show!"
The Cyborg grinned at the screen and responded, knowing full well The Hero wouldn't be able to hear his response, deep underground as they were. The CC Agent was nearly vibrating in excitement having just witnessed not one, but two of the most exciting battles ever inside the space of one week. The Hero peered into the camera, his face distorting with the fish-eyed lens.
*kzzt-... Yharim. King.*
"..."
*Everything that you've built, I will demolish.*
He could tell something was wrong with The Guide.
It was just like those days before they plunged into the fiery depths. The way The Guide looked at him from the sides of his eyes. The careful stiffness in his conversation, and the manufactured kindness painted over his features like a mask. It was a good show. The Guide had always been a fantastic liar, so it was easy to put away his suspicion and believe it... but still. He had experienced it once before. He'd be a fool to not notice it again.
Because he knew something bad was going to happen.
How he wished he was afforded his armour to hide behind, but alas, The Guide had forbidden him from wearing it. He had also forbidden in from coming inside of his house, which - frankly - The Terrarian was glad for. He hated loitering around while people slept and had enjoyed spending the night walking the streets and strolling from rooftop to rooftop.
Strangely, a number of men and women dressed uncannily like The Party Girl (The Terrarian's mind briefly flashed back to the remaining members of his compound, but did not remain there) had pursued him, shooting him with bullets from afar. He had responded in kind and had quite an interesting time trading bursts of gunfire with each other before two tremendous moons began to dance in the sky, and The Agents fled away. The Terrarian did not pursue them. He contented himself by silently exploring the gardens and patios of the city's sleeping residents. He had spent the night browsing various field ornaments, and had duplicated and replaced a great number of them until he was satisfied he had one that fit every occasion.
And of course, when day broke, The Terrarian made sure to arrive back at The Guide's front door with as little ceremony as possible. The townhouse The Guide called home had a small bench in front of it, and The Terrarian waited there, watching the sun rise and people pass by. Unfortunately, one of the groups that passed by must have spent the night getting shot at by him, and they marched up - hooded in black cowls and spiked shoes to jostle him back and forth and make snarling threats.
And... if The Terrarian didn't expect The Guide to come out the door at any moment, he would have gladly distanced each of these men's heads from their bodies. But alas, The Terrarian knew The Guide didn't like seeing dead bodies and given his tenuous mood - The Terrarian was going to do his best not to aggravate him. The result was rather uncomfortable for him. He disliked being manhandled in any fashion, but he likewise didn't want to paint The Guide's home in blood. He sat, guarded and handcuffed, on the bench and wracked his brain for a solution, but before he could come to any, The Guide burst out of his home, red-faced and yelling. The Man fearlessly marched at the soldiers wielding nothing but a rolled up newspaper and a cup of coffee, spewing lies like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"What is this!? What did he do this time? Did you catch him throwing eggs again? Come on, you don't need to arrest him! He's a victim, I tell you! He was completely fine until one of those damn Florentino cart horses kicked him in the head. Even if he threw and egg, he's completely harmless! We're going to the clinic today to get documents for lawsuit and (etc...)"
There was more tussling. Some low mutterings and conversation. Coins were exchanged and he was uncuffed. The Agents wandered away, casting backwards glances at them before vanishing into the slowly growing crowds. The sun was beginning to gain in the sky, rising up and painting the horizon with brilliant colours. The Guide looked briefly upon The City's skyline before turning back towards him. He smiled kindly. Falsely.
"Well then, Buddy. Ready to go? Come on, It's just a short walk to The University."
Faze: "I need to get something off my chest"
Monster Knight: "Your Heart?"
F: "First of all, that is technically very much in the center-"
MK: "Your Skin."
o_o