Okay so, I never thought I'd be asking my readers for tech support, but this is really starting to annoy me.
So for the past month or so, I have been unable to use FF outside of an incognito browser. Every time I try and save changes to a document, it gives me a CloudFlare error asking me to verify I'm human. Problem is, clicking the box does nothing. I verify, and the page just makes me do it again. On the rare case I get through to the document again, my changes have not been saved. This has been nonstop, unless I use an incognito tab for some reason. Has anyone else come into contact with this error and have a solution? I've googled and tried a thousand but none have worked.
Aside from that, Enjoy!
"Are you quite done?" Moros asked as another attack passed by him. Orga growled in annoyance, clenching his fists.
"Stop making this so difficult," he said, "it's annoying."
"What would you rather I do?" He asked, "let you kill me?"
"Yes," Orga replied. Moros stared at him in annoyance, sighing.
"I suppose I have to deal with you soon," he said. "Only three more need to fall, and then Zomrus can handle the rest." Orga didn't like the sound of that. From what Zoka had said, that meant Zomrus would awaken in his chains. He didn't know what that meant, but he knew it couldn't happen.
"Any ideas, Demon?" He asked aloud, hoping that Zoka had a clue for him.
"Fate Manipulation is a powerful technique," Zoka said. Orga noted that Moros did not react to the voice, so he must have been the only one who could hear it. "However, there is a simple counter."
"Which is?" He asked, circling Moros.
"Fate Manipulation cannot see everything," Zoka explained. "The only way he can change fate is if he is completely certain of it's fate already. He was totally convinced all your prior attacks would land, so he was able to change them so they missed. It's powerful, but it has limits."
"I suppose that's why he doesn't just change my fate so I die of a heart attack in a few seconds," Orga reasoned.
"Yes, precisely. However, I imagine he cannot effect living things at all. All things with free will can change their fates at any time, so it's not possible for him to change it. Not only that, but he seems to forget you have me on your side." Orga made a face at this, pausing as he paced.
"What can you do?" He asked curiously.
"I am the kindest of all the Demon Lords," he replied. "My domain includes all things pure. Justice, Virtue, Equality. The good side of humanity's choices. I would hasten to say your 'bad luck' so far hasn't been very fair, wouldn't you?" Orga grinned at this.
"I don't really get it completely," he said, "but sounds good to me! Lightning God's Thunder Rocket!" Lightning gathered around his legs, and with a crack of thunder he flew at Moros at the speed of sound. The man didn't even get a chance to look before Orga delivered a ferocious punch to the side of his head, sending him flying. Orga blinked to his destination before Moros reached it, slamming his knee into the young man's head. A stomach-churning crack rang out as Moros was flung in a different direction, landing in a heap and rolling to a stop slowly. Orga knew his strike had broken his neck, he'd felt it. This was already over.
"Ow."
Orga's eyes widened in disbelief as Moros got to his feet, straightening his neck. Another crack resounded as he did so, then stretched his back.
"How are you still alive?" He demanded, "that's not possible."
"Why isn't it?" Moros asked curiously. "I simply altered my fate so that I didn't die from your strike."
"Ah, I should have guessed," Zoka said solemnly. "He may not be able to alter your fate or mine, but he can change his own. Because as a human, he too has free will."
"Stop talking in circles," Orga said, referring to both the Demon Lord and Child of Nyx. "Just let me finish this already."
"And why would I do that?" Moros asked, "I have nothing to gain from letting you finish me."
"And neither do you, constantly evading me and not doing anything else," Orga replied. "So we're at a standstill, as far as I'm concerned."
"Indeed, that isn't very productive. How about you explain to me why you stand in my way?"
"Isn't that obvious?" Orga demanded, "you're trying to end the world."
"Change the world," Moros corrected. "We are trying to change the world."
"Yeah, somehow I don't buy that," Orga said. "I'm smarter than I look."
"And yet you don't understand," Moros said, sighing. "Tell me, Orga; has humanity committed atrocities?"
"Does a bear shit in the woods?" He shot back, "of course we have."
"Mm hm. And why do we commit there horrific acts against one another?"
"Hell if I know."
"Because there is no higher power to punish us," Moros replied. "Because we believe ourselves to be the highest authority in this world."
"So the answer is, what, then?" Orga asked, crossing his arms, "resurrecting the God of Death and having him rule over us?"
"It is a preferable alternative to this world we live in now," Moros said. "A world where people ruin each others lives with no consequence because one is stronger or more influential than the other. A world where the ruling God is a fool."
Orga didn't know why, but hearing Anhkseram being spoken about in that manner annoyed him. Especially from someone preaching about absolute subordination.
"Anhkseram allowing us free will doesn't make him a fool," he said.
"If a prison guard allows the psychopaths under his charge to roam free, is he not inept?"
"You're lumping all people in with the crazies," Orga shot back. "You're saying we all deserve to be ruled over because a tiny percentage is evil."
"And look how much evil that small percent has brought," Moros said snappily. "Wars, genocide, rape, murder...Millions of times over."
"So the sins of the few outweigh the freedom of the many?" Orga demanded, "sorry, but I'm not done talking to someone like you."
"We've already established we're at a standstill," Moros replied. "How do you plan to shut me up?"
"Dunno yet," Orga replied, "all I know is I want to kick your ass." Moros sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
"I suppose I have to be a bit more forceful," he said. He raised his hand and aimed an open palm an Orga, who tensed up as it began to glow. "Seer of Fate."
The Circle beyond Orga collapsed and reconstituted itself into a different reality.
Looking around, he saw that they were on some sort of battlefield, explosions and battle sounding in the distance. Bodies lay strewn around him, mangled and bloody. He could see armies fighting in the distance, but he couldn't identify who they were.
"What the hell is this?" He asked in annoyance. "If you're gonna give me a show, at least provide popcorn."
"This isn't a show," Moros' said, his voice echoing around him. "This is fate. The fate of the country of Seven."
Orga recognised the colours now. Fiore's Northern neighbour had been undergoing a rebellion for a while now, but both the rebels and government had been locked in a stalemate.
"Neither side giving an inch," Moros said, "neither willing to budge. And they want to win so badly they involve the whole damn country in their fighting." Orga's vision was forcibly moved, and now he could see a city in the distance. A city that was on fire, and he could hear screams from the walls.
"The rebels will set fire to the capital," Moros said. "It is fated. Thousands of innocents will burn, but it will flush out the royal army. And then, thousands more will die in the fields. In the end, Seven will fracture into warring states, all sides vying for control. This is the fate that awaits Seven if Zomrus does not awaken."
"Bullshit," Orga spat, "there's no way you could know something like this. You're trying to trick me."
"It's bound to happen," Moros replied. "It is the inevitable fate of civil wars."
"Yeah? And how many people will have to die fighting Zomrus if you win?"
Moros did not offer a reply to this.
"Surely you're not that dumb, kid. People won't take this laying down. They'll rebel, they'll fight. Surely your own fate manipulation can see that, moron."
"Necessary sacrifices," he replied.
"Oh yeah? I get it now. Innocent lives are worthless as long as they're expended for my own goals, yeah? Trying to talk you down is worthless, as are you. Now, tell me; is it your fate to get your ass kicked?"
Orga tried to lunge at him, but it did little good. Moros faded into the illusion, and it changed once again.
"Do I need to spell it out for you?" Moros asked, "fine, so be it." The scenery changed again, this time a place Orga recognised. What he saw made his stomach turn.
"Is this..."
"Sabertooth's guild hall?" Moros asked as they stared at the pile of rubble, bodies strewn about. "Yes, it is. See, if fifteen years the country of Minstrel will attempt to take Fiore for themselves. The resulting war will decimate thousands of lives, killing thousands more. Gazania, your home, has been burned to the ground because of Minstrel's cruel deeds. But that is not all."
The location changed again, and this time he was on a battlefield. Bodies once again lay slumped around him, all in various states of decay. One thing was certain, though. He smelled ozone.
Turning his head, Orga could see Rina surrounded by enemies. She had countless cuts dotting her body, blood both dried and oozing covering her. Still, though, lightning crackled around her dangerously. She let loose a barrage of attacks, but their were too many people surrounding her. Orga watched, stomach burning, as his daughter was impaled by dozens of pikes and swords, letting loose little more than a whimper as she was hit.
"All wizards will be forced to fight for their lives," Moros said, "and many will lose theirs."
"Are you trying to make me want to kill you?" Orga demanded, clenching his fists as his daughters body hit the ground and didn't move.
"I'm showing you what will happen if Zomrus stays dormant." He replied. "Is this the fate you wish for your daughter? To be turned into a human hedgehog by weapons?"
"This is a rather pathetic attempt at a Mezevera impression," Zoka's voice said, cutting through the illusion like a blade to butter. The illusions vanished, and Orga found himself standing near Moros, who was looking elsewhere. Orga turned to look as well, his eyes widened.
Standing before him was the most handsome man he had ever seen. His face looked to have been carved from the finest marble, with sharp features and beautiful eyes. His blonde hair was short but flowing, moving every so slowly in the non-existent wind. He had angelic white wings, each feather as white as the finest crystal. His white tunic was also unbearably white, hurting his eyes as he stared. In one hand he held a short-sword, which was also glaringly bright.
"Decided to show up, huh?" Orga mumbled, making Zoka smile.
"I let you have your fun," he replied in an angelic voice, "allow me mine." Orga said nothing as the 'Demon' Lord approached Moros, who looked on edge.
"Giving me the chance to kill you?" He demanded, reaching into his jacket. Orga saw him pull out a small dagger, one that glowed a dark red.
"I'm simply annoyed that you would desecrate my dead sisters future-sight with these haphazard hallucinations," Zoka replied. "You construct these pathetically one-sided visions to scare Orga into submission, claiming them to be fate. You know as well as I that these are false."
"They're real," Moros countered, "Decided by fate itself." Zoka laughed at this.
"Fate this, fate that," he said. "I'll let you in on a little secret; Fate isn't real."
"What?" Moros demanded.
"How could things will free will, such as humans or dragons, be subjected to 'fate'? The only inevitable conclusions of this world are decided by the Gods, not by humans, dragons, or some otherworldly power. Your future is in your own two hands. This is what Anhkseram sealed his brother to protect, so it does not surprise me you speak of such a power."
"Don't try to confuse me, Demon Lord," Moros said, "my conviction is too strong for your words to break it."
"Is that what you believe?" Zoka asked him, tilting his head. "Because that's all fate is, isn't it Moros? Believing something to be true, to be inevitable. Once you cross the boundary of belief, then of course fate seems plausible. Because you believe it."
"No! I am the spirit of Fate!" Moros shouted, losing his cool. "I have been gifted with Fate Manipulation magic! I can change fate!"
"Really? Is that why the only fate you've changed here is your own?" Zoka asked, silencing the Child. "You changed your own fate when Orga attacked you, and nothing else. Well, except for these silly illusions. By that logic, Orga too has fate magic. And myself, for that matter. In truth, these are all just possibilities, aren't they? Just like fate. All it is, is what might happen." Moros did not reply, so Zoka turned to Orga. "I believe we need to hurry and finish this up. We have more pressing matters to attend to."
"And how do you figure we do that?" He asked. "He's still avoiding all of our strikes."
"Hm, true." The Demon Lord turned back to Moros, who watched him warily. "Allow me, then." He took a step forward, and Moros a step back.
"Don't get near me," he warned, brandishing the dagger. "I'll kill you."
"Will you now?" Zoka asked, "I guess that isn't my fate, seeing as you don't seem to believe that." Moros' eyes widened, and Zoka's right hand shot up. A bright golden glow flashed Moros, ensnaring him and causing him to stand totally still, his eyes glowing gold.
"You may have guessed by my appearance that I am the most benevolent of the Demon Lords," Zoka said as he walked up to Moros. "I believe all humans have a little good in them. My siblings, especially my sister, disagreed. But I knew it to be true. But how do you go about proving that?" He reached Moros, towering over him.
"So I crafted a little spell," he continued, "one that would allow us to view all the acts committed by one's soul before we pass Judgement. To weigh their sins before we decide if they go to Paradise or not. Of course, if the good outweighed the bad significantly, we allowed you access to Paradise. But if the bad outweighed the good significantly, you were subjected to eternal torment. But what of those in the middle? Neither all good or bad? Well, they fell to me. My Circle became the closest to Paradise as one could get while still being condemned." Zoka sighed at this.
"I won't kill you of course," he said as Moros continued to stand as still as a statue, "but some time trapped in your mind will do you some good, I think." Zoka then turned back to him, smiling. "There, all dealt with."
"Couldn't you have done that from the start?" Orga asked, crossing his arms. "Kid was really starting to annoy me."
"I could have, yes," Zoka said. "However, I wanted to hear what exactly he was going to do if he killed me. Now I know." The Demon Lord's expression hardened at this. "Trying times lay before us, Orga. I'm afraid we'll have to postpone our own clash until this has been settled."
"Are you gonna let me seal you?" He demanded. Zoka snorted.
"Not likely," he said. "I'm not on your side, I'm just against Zomrus. Now, let us prepare for what comes next. We will need to be ready if-!"
Zoka was cut off as the Circle trembled around them, shaking and darkening. Thunder boomed overhead, making him look up in surprise.
"That doesn't sound good," he said. "What was that?" He returned his attention to the Demon Lord, only to see he had a stunned expression on his face.
"Oh no," he said in a voice barely above a whisper. "No, no no..."
"Hey, Zoka! What is that?!" The Demon Lord took second to respond, slowly turning his eyes to him.
"My sister Ruli and I are deeply connected," He said. "Two halves of the same whole." Orga didn't need to hear anymore explanations.
"She's in trouble," he surmised. Zoka swallowed hard.
"More than that," he said. "She's dying."
Ruli hit the ground hard with a laugh, cackling as thunder boomed all around her.
"You really are terrible!" She cackled, "you gonna do me in yourself, moron? I thought you were just going to seal me! Or are humans so far gone that you just want your petty revenge on me?"
"DԖΛĦ▍┍ⴿƓ Ƽᕓ▍ ƔԖΛՆ-ᕓӨᕓⴵƓ▍ԖΛⴵԖΛƓß"
Ruli's body was consumed by a horrific electric shock, one that zapped her very atoms as the power fried her soul. Despite the pain, all she could do was laugh.
"I guess I really drove you off the edge, huh?!" She asked manically towards the being before her. "I didn't think it was possible to force a God Slayer this far!"
The person, if you could even still call them that, standing before her was Rina Nanagear. However, that girl was currently unrecognizable. one was the green-haired girl from Sabertooth, and what replaced it was an Ascended Lightning God Slayer.
All semblance of clothing had been stripped from Rina's body, her form covered in a slick sheet of pitch black magic. This darkness was accentuated with bright yellow lightning bolts crisscrossing her body, pulsating with power as she did. Sprouting from her back was a pair of wings shaped like lightning bolts, but they were pitch black. A halo had surrounded her head, framing her enraged expression like a painting from the best artist in history. The very existence of the Eighth Circle vibrated and shuddered before her, as if her being was creating interference.
Ruli smiled as she got to her feet.
"I'm going to enjoy condemning you," she seethed.
This chapter will probably be the least exciting of the entire arc, as Orga's battle was never gong to be exciting but I had to get it out of the way. Rina's will be much better, that I can promise. I also just wanted to get a chapter out after all this 'verifying' nonsense I've been dealing with, as it was not supposed to be this long before an update. I hope you all enjoyed, please leave a review!