(Cities Last Broadcast - Glossolalia)
"Aeons. That's how much we waited for an opportunity like this."
Thousands of tiny needles pricked the skin of his exposed back as the chilling whisper forced his eyes open. The vibrant sea and the golden beach were swapped for a dirty gravel road hugged by two insurmountable walls made of rock and colorless moss. Tiny snowflakes danced in the air, becoming one with the whitness of everything that surrounded him, except for that stain that was the road.
Braylon felt cold. Not from the snowflakes that kissed his skin, but from the fact that he had nowhere else to go but forward, since behind him stood a misshapen pile of rocks. He was like a rat that could only see five meters ahead of him, trapped somewhere beyond its comprehension. Questions blossomed. Was the idyllic picture he saw with his own eyes just a delusion from a weary, traumatized mind? Was it all a clever deception? Or was it, in fact, very real? No matter the answer he had to go forward. Always forward, without looking back.
Not even the third step had been taken when Braylon stopped. He was being observed, his body told him through a feeling of uneasiness. The urge to continue his leave was stronger, however, so he tried to pay it no mind, even if his eyes darted left and right, hoping to find an irregularity, such as a shadow or a pair of disembodied eyes in the fog.
The more he walked, the more the walls distanced themselves, until they vanished completely, leaving space for a forest of dead trees, a sheet of white laying on their branches. And yet, the road was still straight and narrow. The only constant in a sea of variables.
"We were lurking in the shadows all this time. Foolishly and greedily did the mortals stare in the abyss, without realizing that someone stared back."
It was precaution that made him compare the voice with the demon's, only to remove that thought after realizing how the whisper belonged to a man; deep and calm, pleasing to the ear and flattering to the spirit. Right after hearing it, he tried to set a foot outside his boundaries. He quickly retreated his precious limb due to the unexpected drop of temperature he felt. He got the message. Only the road mattered.
Braylon's previous life bore witness to many strange things, with some stepping into the mysterious territories of the paranormal. As such, the amassed experience developed a "sense" for danger, one very useful in some situations, but inadequate in all others. That sense told him what he already presumed, yet he was unwilling to invest serious thoughts into; a dream or a hallucination beyond his control, weaved by an outside force. A chaotic product if his mind that re-learned to adapt to the technological extensions was now being manipulated by an entity that wanted to convey a message.
Black stone stairs formed moments after, seemingly leading to the top of a hill. The sense became more outspoken, more provocative every time his legs would land on the next smooth block. At one point, the anxiety grew into a phobia. It became mentally painful to go forward. But there was no other way, no other ending. He had to suck it up.
"We were imprisoned, banished by the enemy, to a place where the shadows devour even darker shadows, revealing a world where no being dares to tread."
The never-ending stairway pushed the limits of his patience. There was no top to be seen, almost as if it led to the sky. Vivid images of brutal torture, murder and destruction at the hands of unspeakable monstrosities flashed before his eyes, turning more and more disturbing with every single step. He collapsed on the stairs, unable to take it anymore. Beads of sweat rolled of his pale face as he started to hyperventilate. It was a maddening torture, this pure fear of whatever awaited for him at the end. Pushing another ounce of courage into his body, the young Vault Hunter walked some more, not giving in to the bogeymen of his mind.
Finally, he came to the top.
The scenery changed suddenly, his eyes failing to spot the change in real time, as if someone swapped a different picture in front of them. White snow was nov black ash, harsh cold turned to unbearable heat. But all that paled in comparison to the event that was unfolding in front of him.
Below stood a large, disc-shaped arena, surrounded by all sides with boiling lava that fell from gargantuan Eridian statues placed at four sides, indicating four cardinal directions of the world. A bridge connected the arena with a tiny island on which stood an upside down V made of grayish-white stone; the infamous Vault, the object of desire for many fallen souls. The orange rift inside the piece of alien architecture signaled its awakening from a millenia-old slumber.
Each known Vault so far carried its personal can of worms that made the whole Vault hunting ordeal not worth the effort. The stories that were passed down from those that were destined to go where others couldn't suddenly lost the effect they always carried when listened by others. In an unpredictable, disturbing way, those stories were now tossed away, forgotten in favor of the eldritch horror that a human mind simply couldn't comprehend, but which was in plain sight and abnormally real.
From that rift inside the Vault, each second, hundreds of thousands of monsters rushed out into an unstoppable stampede that prophesized chaos and ruin. Terrestrial and flying, grotesque and beautiful, midgets and giants. A whole torrent of evil, observed by two watchful eyes hiding behind a thick veil of fog, high above the Vault.
"We know that our end is near. But we don't care. Because before we dissapear, we will drag down every single mortal in the whole creation. Rivers of blood will overflow, fresh skulls will be added to the existing piles and trillions of souls will be lost forever. For we are demons, the bane of all that is mortal!"
In the end, the only thing he saw was the giant's gaze upon him. An insufferable light, burning with hatred, ripping apart his body and tearing out his soul. He was nobody, nothing, a mere insect in front of a force that transcended everything he knew. A giganic hand moved out of the fog, approaching with malicious intent.
"My god! No! AAAHHH!"
"AAAHHH! OW! OW! OW!"
Regular brain activity detected. Shutting down emergency systems.
"Gah! What the hell!"
Electric pulses generated from the wrist device shook the Vault Hunter to help him regain consciousness. When the operation was over, the surge of adrenaline pulled his upper body up, breathing fresh air into the lungs. He was back on the beach, as he was the entire time.
"I'm glad to see that our sleeping beauty finally woke up."
The demonic voice waited for him in the land of the living. He did not pay much attention to it, however, as his mind relived the haunting vision from what he now knew was a dram. Dread once again came taunting, for that Vault was familiar to him. It bore a resemblance to the one that brought him to Hell. Thus the question came spontaneously, was what he saw a product of a traumatized mind after experiencing a taste of Hell, the dimension from which he escaped, or was it a type of premonition, a warning about an event that was bound to happen or, worse, it's already happening?
Braylon bit his tounge, returning his attention back to reality. He had to take one step at a time. There was the issue of finding out where he was. That was currently more important than answers to questions mankind sought for ever since it gained the ability to delve into the abstract. But how could Braylon think of anything else when he got those answers handed to him in the most cruel way possible? How should a teenager confront reality with such a forbidden knowledge that curses its custodian with a type of loneliness that they need to endure for the rest of their days?
This is not a type of loneliness that could be defeated with simple social activities. No, this loneliness is more insidious, for it forces its bearer into a position where he cannot share the received knowledge with others without paying the price in the form of mockery or worse. It had to be a secret that would be brought with him into the coffin. A secret that would chip away bits of his already-damaged sanity.
"Are you going to keep pondering about your miserable life, or are you going to move and repair the mess you've caused?"
"What?"
"Have you forgotten already? The Vault you opened is the cause for all this chaos. If you wish to see another sunrise, I suggest you to start doing something productive."
"Vault?" He looked down on his trembling hands. "Chaos?"
"Let me spell it out for you. Your wish is to never return to Hell, correct?"
His fists curled into a ball, squeezing the warm sand they gathered.
"Yes."
"Then you surely wish for everything to return back to normal, correct?"
"Yes."
"Then your goal is set in stone. You must stop the Unholy Crusade and the mastermind behind it, the so-called Dark Lord of the Fourth Age."
"D-Dark Lord?" He parroted dumbly.
"You know who. The Great Enemy, Fallen One, Changer of Ways... His pride cost us our home. Mortals are to blame of course."
"I... I'm so confused..." He gripped his head. "What do I have to do with all of this?... What do you gain from all of this?"
"You were the one who started it all. As for me, I get to see his face once a mortal he so despises ruins his plans. I still owe him one for dragging me down with him."
If he could sink into the earth, he would do it with pleasure. The lingering feeling that the life of Vault-hunting would follow him like a shadow even to another world, even after experiencing Hell, was now solidified. This was the second curse placed upon him, one shared by all Vault Hunters. There would always be a place. There would always be trouble. There would always be a Vault Hunter to solve it. The universe always had a way to connect the trinity. It would always bring more jobs, a lot more jobs, and the Vault Hunters would hate every single one of them, until payment was delivered either to their accounts or in the form of a weapon. In more ways than one, these jobs had the tendency to draw their victims into even more trouble, which would spawn even more jobs.
But there was no reason to blame the universe for that one. He was sure, in fact, that the universe, for once, did not want to be a part of a cosmic tier shitshow.
"Well..." He clapped his hands together and got up from the sand. "Crying won't solve anything. I better start..."
"That's the spirit."
"Sure, if only I knew from where..."
Braylon decided to take a look around himself so that he could discover something more about the place.
"Looks like... a tropical paradise..."
When he turned around, he saw a green forest distant about half an hour of walk from the beach. The trees made his assumption about his whereabouts being a tropical paradise invalid. Still, it looked very inviting for our teenager, as forests like that were a rare sight on Pandora.
He sighed, "Maybe a walk will clear my mind..."
"While you walk, please consider how you placed so much trust in a being whose primary role is to annihilate you. Walk, and taste the irony."
The topic of trees is frequent on Pandora, being a planet born from a mish-mash of canyons, deserts, volcanoes and rocky outcrops. Though it has flora of its own, trees, a concept as it is often imagined, are rare and can be found only in peculiar places under certain conditions. What there is plenty of can be found everywhere; hostile flora and fauna. Indeed, the creatures and plants are so aggressive, so territorial, that Pandora is considered a "death planet", where the inexperienced and the weak meet their end most often in the most brutal and painful ways.
To Braylon, who traveled across Pandora and beyond, trees were nothing spectacular. If he were yet another illiterate settler that lived off Bladeflower seeds, he would speak about it for hours on end. His attention was invested into his PDA. The wrist gadget had performed a quick body examination, projecting the results on its the demonic voice came again and he took its offer. He would test his stamina, stubborness and skills, get in shape so to speak, and in turn he would get his equipment back.
"Show me, mortal. Show me why should I pick you instead of someone else."
(Ratchet and Clank: Size Matters – Pokitaru: The Kidnapping)
"Start with that tree."
A fallen tree blocked Braylon's path. He went for a quick slide followed by a jump over a rock that came after. He felt a smile appearing on his lips.
"You take way too long, mortal. One of my brothers would crush you before you even got a chance to do anything."
The smile didn't falter. He ignored the blatant derisive criticism and instead kept running until he reached a wall.
"Climb it as fast as you can."
With a simple mental command, the PDA materialized the Holo Sabre, an orange solid hologram resembling an animal's claw. He jumped and used the tool to stab the rock, cutting a hole through it like a heated knife through his free hand he grabbed a small rock that stuck out. After that he removed the Sabre and repeated the process until he reached the top.
"You wasted a lot of time there. Do you think you will have that much luck when my brothers start chasing you? Honestly, I am dissapointed."
"Why don't you do it, then?!" Asked the irritated Vault Hunter.
"I would rather leave that task to hopeless mortals."
"You are such a prick."
"And you are a filthy mortal. Get used to it."
The bright orange light, the same that appeared on the beach, came once more, and once more it brought a loot chest. Braylon opened it and found a strange-looking pistol. After a brief examination, he found an even stranger insignia on the barrel: UAC EMG.
"Wait a minute. This isn't my revolver." He frowned. "I want my revolver!"
"Do I look like charity to you? Be happy with what you got. Its owner has no use of it. Not now, at least."
"I. Want. My. Revolver."
The voice sighed. "Foolish humans. Foolish and greedy humans. Alright, but first get some clothes on. The last thing I need is to be associated with a predator who can't control his carnal urges, haunting the forests and traumatizing children."
His eyes widened. It was true. He was still butt-naked!
"Crap! Can't you just teleport some?!"
"Sure, do you want some tea with that? How about a cake?"
"Alright, alright! Just stop with the sarcasm."
"There is a human hunter below you. Here is your opportunity."
He nodded and walked until he reached the edge, all the while holding the unwanted pistol. There truly was a human hunter below him, probably searching for animals. He wore a simple green shirt, light brown pants and black shoes.
Thanking God for him and the hunter being alone with no one else in sight, he quickly murmured an apology for the stunt he was about to pull: a flying kick to the man's face.
"I just knocked a man unconscious. Naked and in the middle of the forest." He said in disbelief. "And for clothes nontheless. I can't believe I fell so low."
After stripping the man down to his shoes, leaving only his gun, Braylon quickly dressed up to cover himself from the world. No one needed to see his shame.
"Let's see how fast you run. Turn left, then run until you reach the cliff. Be a good dog, and you may get a biscuit."
Cursing silently as he turned, Braylon went into a restless sprint towards the cliff.
The cliff and the loot chest were real, as was the "reward" he received. His family heirloom, the revolver named Unforgiven, and a Shield, a device that forms a barrier which absorbs all physical damage the user would have taken instead, The Bee. There was also some ammunition for the revolver.
"Here, have fun with your toys."
"I will, no thanks to you."
For the Shield to work, it had to be attached somewhere on the user's body, mostly belt. Because Braylon had none, he decided to store the heirloom and the Shield in the PDA by activating a light on said device which scanned the items only to make them dissapear.
New items stored in ECHO inventory. Updating systems.
(MadWorld – Get It Up!)
"Oh-ho, looks like the inhabitants have the burning desire to meet the stranger."
"What are you talking about?" He asked before hearing an angry growl coming from the bushes behind him. It reminded him of a bear, despite never seeing one in his life. The vegetation that hid the bear was easily ripped out of the dirt and torn apart, freeing the way for a creature Braylon was sure it was no normal animal.
It was large, a monster twisted into such a simplistic form, yet it shared nothing with the animal whose shape it had stolen. A twisted parody of the respected Earth being, with pitch-black fur emitting smoke of the same color, red eyes and a white exoskeleton in the form of a bone-like mask as well as bony spikes on the back and arms.*
"Great." He whined. "Another mad scientist I have to kill. As if the galaxy wasn't full of them."
The monster, as if on clue, immediately lunged at the teenager with the intention of breaking his spine with sharp teeth.
"Holy..." He jumped sideways then rolled back on his feet. "What did I do to piss you off?"
"That's not a living being, fool!"
"What?"
"Here is your next challenge. Everything up to now was nothing but a warm up. Now let's see how you handle the closest thing to a demon this world can offer."
"What?! Shit!"
Braylon was so concentrated on the conversation that he paid little attention to the creature's arm swipe, tossing him meters away.
"That was... one hell of a punch..." He commented while rising to his feet. The shirt and skin now had bloody claw marks. At the same time the creature stood on its hind legs, something unthinkable for a massive quadruped. "But it'll take a lot more than that to bring me down."
Tightly gripping the pistol, he shoot three bullets at the beast. He was surprised when he saw energy bullets coming out of the barrel and melting bits of flesh in its abdomen.
"Energy weapon?"
The steaming, painful wounds made it roar in rage and agony. One more bullet to the leg and the creature fell to the ground. Braylon took the opportunity to rush towards its head, point the barrel at its forehead and fire until the head became nothing more than a pile of half-melted brains, bones and flesh. It twitched and growled all this time, hopelessly trying to cling to its life.
"Phew, it's over." He wheezed. "Looks like I was wrong about you." He spoke to the gun as if it were a living thing. "Hm?" The creature's corpse slowly dissolved into smoke in front of his eyes.
"It's... dissolving?"
"This was not a living creature in the same way as mortals are. Negative emotions in mortal form, yet deprived of mortal weaknesses."
Braylon gulped. Living embodiments of emotions? It was something too hard to believe. Then again, he lost the privilege to think like that. After everything he had been through, after seeing Hell before his time, he came to a point where he would believe into anything if he saw it. His mind returned to reality when he walked towards the cliff and noticed a seemingly tiny wooden village on the coast. Village meant people and people meant information. The first thing he needed to do was to learn something more about this world and its solar system. Then there was that... thing... that attacked him. He must know more if he wanted to avoid unpleasant surprises in the future.
With a snort he thumbed his nose and into the dangerous wilderness he ventured, with the goal of finding a way to reach that settlement.
HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!
Ahem...
Alright, so as I was writing this chapter, I got the idea for adding new features (you can see them below) that will add some improvement to the previous fic, nothing big, but it will kinda expand on the backstory and such. What else? Tell me in the reviews your thoughts. If I get no feedback from my readers, the probability of this story being successful will decrease.
FACTIONS: - basically all groups that the MC had met up until certain point in time. Whenever the MC comes in contact with new factions, it will be recorded in here. Like I said, nothing special but I feel like it is a nice little touch.
Faction skills are set of skills that are shared among the members of that faction. This is mostly for adding RPG-esque feeling to the story, but have no big effect on the combat itself, as it would be very limiting. However, if, for example, there is a creature made of electricity then it is only logical for it to be immune to electricity. If said creature has only, for example, shock resistance, then it means it can still be killed with electricity, but it will be harder than, say, killing it with regular bullets.
1) Legions of Hell –"It was supposed to be our greatest achievement yet. Get in, find the Vault, kill whatever was locked in there, grab the loot and get out... and now I learn that I unleashed an eternity of hatred on all of creation, on all that is mortal, in every reality out there. A threat that is far too big to handle. Lucky me." (Increased resistance to all damage, bonus ethereal damage)
2) Creatures of Grimm – "Ah. I remember the days when these creatures used to be relevant. It was long time ago, when humans were savages with fire. One of our greatest creations, you know? Developed by our most powerful brothers to serve as our extended hand, a disease that was almost able to wipe out all mortals from existence! But then the Enemy started playing dirty, introducing new knowledge to that filth, evening the odds. Now, when humans are savages with gadgets, the Creatures of Grimm became more of an annoyance than anything else, cockroaches if you will. For us, not for them. For humanity they are still a threat... somehow." (Ability to acquire multiple bonuses with age, ability to track humans who experience negative emotions)
PDA BIOPEDIA: - this is a section where I will put entries regarding creatures encountered through the story. Whenever there is a new animal/creature/whatever that may or may not be a threat, it will go here. Below is an example of how it will probably look like.
*Entry #1: Ursa
Type: Grimm – Beast
Faction: Creatures of Grimm
Description: "If an Ursa has any purpose, then it is definitely to serve as an example of how my brothers had little to no sense of creativity. Not to mention that the enemy could probably sue us for copyright and win."
ARSENAL: - here go all items used by MC, will be updated with each new item
a) Pistol: Unforgiven (Borderlands), Energy Pistol
b) Shield: The Bee