DeviousMe

((Sure thing. Where's what happened last near your chracter)

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Toru's face lit up with anticipation as Ryuu drew his blades. She took a step forward so she was no longer behind him, but beside him. Tension coiled like springs in her limbs, eager to expend the adrenaline roaring through her veins like a raging river. Her deft fingers withdrew throwing daggers from within her Gi as she took up a fighting stance beside her brother.

Her gaze locked on their target as she took aim. "Are you ready brother?" she murmured to him. With that, she let her daggers fly..........

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"Lets show them why we were guard," he announced as he charged holding his blades back the points coming together in a wedge in front of him.

His feet flew across the floor lightly his exhaustion barely affecting his technique. His legs tensed as he prepared to launch himself into the air.

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Toru's fatigue faded a bit more with each surge of adrenaline. Her pulse raced but her mind was uncharacteristically calm as she charged after her brother

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The daggers rang out, their song slipping quickly into the air and echoing down the hallway. Then they hit the floor in rapid succession, one after another simply clattering to the ground.

They had hit something.

Ryuu's wedge of blades hit the same thing - only this time, it showed itself. A previously invisible hemisphere flared up pale-blue over the unconscious Hikaru, forming a protective barrier of force over the man.

But only for a moment, then it faded into obscurity again. it hadn't resumed its unseen status; it was simply no longer there.

"So, this is the way the Dragon fights here, hm?" came a voice from behind the group, filled with the tone of disappointment, "I have to say, I expected better."

It was the tall man who spoke, the figure in the heavy gray cloak standing silently next to him. Who had been the cause of the force barrier wasn't sure, but one of them had to have been it...right?

"Now," the tall, robed man continued, "I'm not entirely expecting a positive response to this, but what is going on here? Why is everyone asleep on the job? And why are you trying to slice up someone who best i can tell is already K.O....?"

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Madness raged everywhere. If the incessant hollow screams and barked orders that kept bellowing from my comm. link were true, the enemy had already penetrated deep into the building.

Things looked grim - but not hopeless. If we could hold out until the fleet in orbit was reinforced, victory was assured. The day would be ours.

And so I ran.

"They're moving in fast!"

I ran as fast as my feet would take me.

"We need backup! We need backup!"

Octagon after octagon rushed by, my boots sounding an echo on the metal floor of the corridor with every step.

"Northern blocks has been overrun! Fall back!"

Where was I going?

"Seal gate Kappa-two-niner now!"

I had no idea.

"Close the blast door! Close the blast door!"

I rounded a corner into a transformer hall, the massive gate at the other end just now sliding down and into position. The three-meter-thick slab of unrelenting resistance came down with the inevitability of fate itself, soldiers diving underneath the titanic teeth of the blast door, sliding towards me into the room as I stormed to help.

Without conscious thought, my hand locked around another's, and in spastic reflex I pulled, yanking the squidlike soldier under the door by the tentacles that served as his hand: a boneless assembly of muscle and tendons that almost seemed to give way under the pressure I applied.

Normally, I likely would have seized up. Now I didn't even notice. That was no Abosseluu, that was but a comrade, a fellow soldier, and right now that was all that mattered.

That was, until I came to my senses again.

I nearly froze as I stared into the creature's ten expressionless eyes; black, immobile, and button-like, as they always were. Arranged in two vertical rows of five on the fire-red flesh of the conical, molluskian head, they simply gazed at me unblinking, frozen in time in that cold, unfeeling look.

I knew it wasn't true, and that should've been another perfectly good reason to let go of the hand right about now.

Yet I did nothing.

I couldn't even speak.

Until a titanic empty sound boomed from the door, sending us both scrambling back, running for the line our fellow soldiers had formed to defend the gate.

Leaping behind something that resembled a control console (my mind only registered it as 'potential cover' right now), I found myself, to great relief, alone once more…at least relatively.

I spied over the console and to the blast door, which sounded again and again, as if some giant hammer was beating on it from the other side.

Thankfully, it didn't budge.

Yet.

As I checked my rifle again, I took the time to survey our position. It wasn't bad. The transformer hall only had one solid path, which was the wide bridge running from one end to the other. Rimmed by guardrails and mounted control panels, the bridge ran centerline amongst gargantuan cylinders that started at the ceiling some ten or twelve meters above, and stretched down into the seemingly bottomless abyss below. A dull blue aura filled the void, a lone clue to the energies these machines were tasked with.

Suddenly, the hammering stopped.

Rifles clicked and mounts were made ready, heavy repeaters latching onto tripods in only moments, their crews capable of assembling the heavy weapons under virtually any conditions.

Then things grew silent once more.

Mumbles arose.

"Think they gave up...?"

"Don't trust this..."

"What if it's a trap...?"

"I heard they can walk through walls. What if they're circling around...?"

"But there's only one way into this sector..."

They were getting nervous.

So was I - what the heck was going on? I'd expected them to come crashing into here...and now...?

An officer and field engineer slowly advanced, the latter carrying some sort of scanning device.

They approached in a crouch, ready to bound back at a moment's notice...but nothing happened, even as the officer put his hand to the door.

"Feels unusually warm." he remarked to the engineer. It was but a whisper, but we'd quieted down again, the silence only broken by the steady, low hum of the transformers.

"They're not cutting through." was the befuddled reply, "Not hot enough for that. No procedure works this low, and...Sir, the chemical composition of the door is changing…"

"Changing?" questioned the officer suspiciously, "Into what?"

"I'm not sure yet. Maybe I can..."

The engineer's eyes widened in an expression of pure horror.

"Everybody down!!!"

My world exploded.

In a titanic fireball, the blast door ripped itself to shreds, a wave of fire, shrapnel, pressure, and molten debris roaring at me to devour, like the mouth of a gargantuan beast unleashed to feed indiscriminately upon all in its path.

I ducked low, the wave blasting around the console and overhead, my personal shield absorbing what did make it to me. Still, it wasn't pleasant - heat washed over me, and everything seemed to shake and rattle under the stresses, plates of the floor softening from the intense heat, the wave ripping them along like so many specks of dust.

Finally, it subsided, only the clatter of debris in the back of the transformer hall still echoing as a reminder.

But not a moment later, a sound rang out, some mixture of a hiss and the sharp crack of thunder.

Paralyzer fire!

They were here!

I lurched forward, throwing my rifle over my cover. What I saw downright robbed me of my conscious will to take any other action.

The door wasn't there anymore. In its place stood only a singular gaping hole, still ablaze with tall flames that roared higher and higher as they fed on the synthetics within the surrounding materials.

And through the fire without the slightest hesitation, as abyssal demons from the darkest reaches of the Pit, advanced the Necrian storm troops, the flames licking at their powersuits, reflecting coldly from their night-black armor in an icy-gray luster.

My shield sputtered and crackled violently as a discharge arc ran over my body, the invisible paralyzer fire from their arm cannons lashing into my fortifications with the singular goal of striking me down.

The impacts tore my mind from the brink, thrusting me back into full awareness of the situation. Instinct raised my rifle, reflexes squeezed the trigger, and years of arduous training let the thermocannon find its mark, the bright-orange beam crashing and searing into the Necrian closest to me.

The impact threw him back, his own suit's shields taking the brunt of my assault, but he keenly twisted out of my beam even as I tried to keep him in my sights, my fingers clenching the trigger and refusing to release the mechanism.

Then something hit me, bashing my body away like a colossal mallet, sending me flipping backwards head over heels, only to crash painfully upon the floor again.

My earns rang brutally, but not only with the force of shock and sudden disparity, but also with the cacophonous crack of thunder that only now registered in my waking mind.

The redlining stress gauge of my shield confirmed it. My blast goggles fed me all the information of what had just happened - I'd been hit, and hard.

Seeing their paralyzers ineffective (though I knew they had to have been aware of this beforehand), they'd switched to impulse blasters.

I'd no time to contemplate why. Another blast thundered into the floor beside me, and I frantically rolled to escape the quickly melting plating, finding a moment of respite behind a large, reinforced cargo crate a maintenance crew had left behind when the alarm had sounded.

My back slammed into the crate with vigor, but also great relief. I had a moment to myself. My heart raced, my breath labored. Around me I saw my companions in full retreat.

No, this couldn't be - I couldn’t let it be. I had to do something! The officer was dead, the door's detonation having surely left nothing of him or the engineer…

Or had it?

I detached the targeting camera of my rifle, linking the feed to my goggles, and held the lens around my cover and back towards the gate.

The floor was charred; the bodies of the officer and the engineer now only widely flayed masses of charcoal-black ash, spattered trails on the now-cratered plating.

I followed one such trail led back to my side, the engineer's blackened scanner still clutched in the ashen remains of his hand, its screen showing now barely readable output.

A molecule.

C6H12N2O6 - hexamethylene triperoxide diamine.

H.M.T.D.!

Now I knew why they hadn't cut through.

They'd turned the whole blast door into one massive chunk of high explosive!

Horror gripped at my sanity. What sort of enemy were we dealing with that had these means? Rearranging matter was possible, yes, but it took days, not minutes.

Unless...

I turned the camera outwards again - and then I saw him.

The Krayten.

He wasn't very large, perhaps the size of a large pet, but not quite the horrific monster I'd expected. He was some sort of reptilian, and a quadruped at that. Long and thin, he reminded me of some sort of predatory cat, at least in the way he moved, slowly setting one leg in front of the other, the three clawed toes on each digitigrade foot spreading to contact the floor and curling back somewhat once lifted off.

The skull was large and long, the characteristic shape of a sizeable carnivorous reptile unmistakable, the sharp teeth only adding to the sense. A deep-green, fibrous hide covered him from head to toe to the tip of the long, thin tail, and even the large pair of wings that rose from the Krayten's back, membranes of the same leathery hide stretched tightly between the supporting bones in a display of threat, the being making himself appear larger than he truly was by spreading the pair of aerial appendages.

The eyes, however, carried the cold and calculating glare of great intelligence, and though the Krayten wore nothing but a silver collar round his neck (in addition to the animalistic threat display), I knew better than to underestimate him.

Nothing underscored this more than two of the massive transformers suddenly shredding loose and ramming their way down into our already broken formation, crashing and tumbling chaotically as if haunted by sheer madness.

I gathered my courage, rolling out from behind the crate and laying into him, as did my comrades, thermocannons scorching the air with vicious discharges.

But that was all we scorched.

The beams lanced away into every direction except at the Krayten, sometimes even splitting into more just before impact. A malicious smile crossed his reptilian lips even as mine pressed together into bloodless lines.

He was doing this - he was consciously manipulating not only the transformers, throwing them at us like so many small pebbles, but also the very energies of our weapons, commanding them to do his bidding with nothing but his mind, his will.

And he kept approaching, sending our forces to scatter as he scattered our fire. The searing heat just near the beams should have made him succumb - yet he didn’t even seem to notice.

His cold eyes focused on me.

"Do you mind?" he chuckled in a gentle tone, and my rifle suddenly flung itself from my hands, as did those of my comrades.

Our weapons had seemingly taken on a will of their own, and not a moment later returned as our enemies, the Krayten using them as remote-controlled clubs to lay into us now, beating many of my comrades senseless as they still reeled in shock.

The butt of my rifle came for my head as well, but I thrust my hands forward to intercept my wayward weapon. I succeeded only partially, the sheer force behind the rebellious rifle enough to knock me to the ground again.

I watched in horror as my weapon turned away from me, then crumpled together in the fashion of an accordion, only a crushed and mangled mess left to hit the floor after the Krayten was done with it.

I heard the screams of my comrades, but they seemed so distant now, so far away, as I lay there defeated, and with such horrid ease.

A footstep sounded next to me, and my hand already rushed to my dagger to cleave into the treacherous reptile, reflex once more taking over as my body spasmed up to strike.

But when I saw my opponent, I froze with fear.

My blade dropped to the floor, my eyes beholding just a glimpse of the wolflike visage behind the visor of the night-black armorsuit.

General Fang!

Conscious thought overpowered reflex, making use of it for my fingers to rush to my comm. unit. I had to warn the others, tell them of the enemy's position.

Only crackling static came across - they were jamming our communications!

I had no time to try and break through, the Necrian's armored hand already reaching down towards me. A flare grenade slipped through my fingers and onto the floor with ludicrous speed, blasting out a blinding flash that momentarily dipped the entire transformer hall into the luminance of a sun.

I knew I had but a moment, scrambling to my feet even as I rolled to escape the General's grasp, hoping only to survive the next few seconds.

I saw nothing, heard nothing, and felt only floor under my hands and feet, obsessed with nothing but the thought of getting away and warning the others.

That floor suddenly vanished, a hole molten into the bridge swallowing me hole like some hungry beast. I felt myself fall, then collided with a transformer, the smooth surface of the metal sliding by my fingers, unable to find any sort of grasp by which to stop my rapid descent.

To my great surprise, the cargo crate wasn't the only thing the maintenance crew had left behind - I collided with yet something else, which I quickly discovered to be an open maintenance hatch. It didn't leave me much choice in the matter, gobbling me up as the hole had, but at least it led to somewhere other than the abyssal energies.

The shaft spat me out at the bottom of the presently shut-down transformer, and I wasted no time snaking my way in between the pipes and conduits to the spot where I knew another maintenance hatch from the designs I'd studied.

It took me but moments to find and open the thing, lurching out of the machine and into the corridor that served the monitor stations of the transformer hall, falling flat on my face as I slid from the wall in three meters' height.

Still, even my bloody nose couldn't deter me now. I'd escaped. I had to use my chance. The others had to be warned before it was too late.

I ran...

Shield didn't have to wait long. Whatever was pursuing them had made good time, apparently capable of a much more brisk pace then they.

At first, the only sign had been faint taps upon the walkways of the sewer lines, but the water spray that now curtained the entire pipe they'd come through until now changed all this very quickly.

The droplets suddenly hit an area of seemingly solid air as an invisible form began to move through the spray, not bothering to slow down from its previous pace. A faint outline formed, of something wide but not very tall, and quickly intensified into defined proportions.

The proportions of a battle drone.

The drops of water, falling like rain, ran quickly and clearly over the entire form, and sure enough what was pursuing them carried the tell-tale form of a rather short mechanoid.

Water, however, didn't seem to greatly bother its apparently well-insulated electrical circuits - that was, if the thing ran on electricity at all, and not something else entirely.

The drone simply kept walking, the outline of the 'head' pointing straight ahead, towards Shield. No, not right at him, but a few arc seconds away, towards the path the others had taken.

It was tracking some sort of trail in the air...

((M'kay, now that ya know what it is, I think I'll wait for Zeta or Harrier. ))

Considering there's a horde of linked-together robots with shockblasters in there, I doubt you'd get too far.

In a certain little room in a certain dusty motel, tucked away as average as could be amongst the many such establishments in the state of New York, the investigation had already concluded, the detectives departed.

But not everyone had.

One remained. Of course, this one was not a detective. It wasn't even alive.

A splinter of the door fractured as a smooth, invisible foot stepped on the wood, the pressure causing it to fall apart into its component fibers.

The intruder quickly took note, making sure not to do so again as it moved.

A cold shimmer of crimson light faintly illuminated the dark room, the intruder's 'eyes' having no need for the light humans required. It could produce its own. But even if there had been need, what it was looking for could not be seen in the visible spectrum.

The intruder was looking lower, in the infrared, meticulously tracing out what had transpired by the latent signatures left behind.

Not twenty seconds had it spent in the room, then it had found all it could possibly wish to relay back to its 'employers'.

The trail itself, however, led on - and the intruder was obliged to follow.

Where would the path take it...?

((M'kay, we seem to have reached a plothole here, so if I don't get any objections, Imma go ahead and turn back the clock a bit to make this mesh. Leo, I'm gonna stick your post in front of these happenings then. If this doesn't suit yalls, feel free to tell me.))

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Toru's face lit up with anticipation as Ryuu drew his blades. She took a step forward so she was no longer behind him, but beside him. Tension coiled like springs in her limbs, eager to expend the adrenaline roaring through her veins like a raging river. Her deft fingers withdrew throwing daggers from within her Gi as she took up a fighting stance beside her brother.

Her gaze locked on their target as she took aim. "Are you ready brother?" she murmured to him. With that, she let her daggers fly..........

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"Lets show them why we were guard," he announced as he charged holding his blades back the points coming together in a wedge in front of him.

His feet flew across the floor lightly his exhaustion barely affecting his technique. His legs tensed as he prepared to launch himself into the air.

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Toru's fatigue faded a bit more with each surge of adrenaline. Her pulse raced but her mind was uncharacteristically calm as she charged after her brother

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The daggers rang out, their song slipping quickly into the air and echoing down the hallway. Then they hit the floor in rapid succession, one after another simply clattering to the ground.

They had hit something.

Ryuu's wedge of blades hit the same thing - only this time, it showed itself. A previously invisible hemisphere flared up pale-blue over the unconscious Hikaru, forming a protective barrier of force over the man.

But only for a moment, then it faded into obscurity again. it hadn't resumed its unseen status; it was simply no longer there.

"So, this is the way the Dragon fights here, hm?" came a voice from behind the group, filled with the tone of disappointment, "I have to say, I expected better."

It was the tall man who spoke, the figure in the heavy gray cloak standing silently next to him. Who had been the cause of the force barrier wasn't sure, but one of them had to have been it...right?

"Now," the tall, robed man continued, "I'm not entirely expecting a positive response to this, but what is going on here? Why is everyone asleep on the job? And why are you trying to slice up someone who best i can tell is already K.O....?"

"Ah, we would like me to make the first move?" Hotaka chuckled, "Very well."

Hotaka ducked low in a flash, easily weaving away from Michael's blasts, lifting his left foot and driving it back onto the dirt with force.

The earth seemed to explode under his foot, a quickly propgating fissure of rock making its way to Penny in only a heartbeat with the intent of knocking her down.

This didn't seem to be the point, however, as Hotaka leaped from his position not a moment later, following the wave with almost the same speed...

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"That that means I belong here."

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Hotaka smiled generously. Now all the little pieces came together. Things so minute a normal human would never even notice them. But then, Ryuu wasn't.

And now he knew what to teach.

She had an energy pulse gun. The Archon had one too. Not much of a threat there. The arena floor itself was the only dangerous thing right now.

The threat had been assessed. It was minimal.

"Then let us begin." Hotaka declared, his smile becoming a slight grin as he cracked his knuckles...

"Ah, is is you." Hotaka commented with a wry smirk to Penny, "I see they were successful in removing the unremovable armor. A shame..."

((Actually, that was it. I thought the place would have...you know, guards or something. Or at least some sort of basic security system. Guess not. ))

"That's odd." commented the figure in the gray cloak as the gates swung wide open at his touch, "Where is everyone?"

The two stepped through the entry gate, making their way down the path that lay just beyond, both rather puzzled as to what was going on here.

"You think...?" the tall man started to question, but the concealed figure shook his head, "Nah, there'd be a big mess everywhere. Still..."

A click could be heard from underneath the cloak, "Can't be too careful, I guess. Might just be my paranoia again, but a dojo with no students in sight isn’t something that falls under ‘completely not suspicious’ in my book."

The robed man nodded as they walked past the entry and into the central building...

Ryuu Hotaka would not be going into a 'Round One' match - not after what he'd done to the last automaton they'd sent up against the guy.

Nobody quite knew what he'd actually done to it, as the arena's lighting system as well as every other piece of monitoring had inexplicably failed for thirteen seconds that day. Even the transparent dome had become somehow opaque (at least if one chose to believe the prisoners who'd been sitting next to it at the time; most people just said the sudden absence of light had played tricks on their eyes).

Regardless of how it had been done, once people could see again, the robot had been literally flattened, lying pitifully on the ground in a metal pancake of amalgamated parts and plating. If people hadn't known better, it had almost looked like some giant foot had just plain-old stepped on it...

((Hmm, having a hard time making sense of gladiator fights in a modern prison...thought this'd be more of a "you two have problems? Fight it out" kinda thing. But post to come, no worries. No need to wait up for me, either.))

"Oh, I'm not with the Tsoo." Hotaka smiled good-naturedly, "Though they may say they follow the path of the Dragon, I can assure you the converse is most certainly not..."

Theclacking of latches and locks intrupted the tall robed man. The guards were opening the cell door.

Hotaka smirked as he beheld a few Longbow agents along with the regular guard entourage, but the men and women clad in red-and-white uniforms remained quite silent, as if them speaking could upset something.

"Ryuu Hotaka." one of the guards simply stated, motioning a request to come out, "We've got someone who needs a lesson."

"Oh now?" Hotaka smiled at this, stepping into motion, "Do lead the way then, gentlemen. I'd be happy to teach."

The guard nodded without a word, and the squad took Ryuu in their middle, sealing the door behind them again.

It didn't take long for them to reach their destination.

The arena...

Okay, so I decided to take a quick Q&A break. Let's see...

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But.... What would happen if the Concile developed a system to block teleporters?

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They have. You will see.

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But I have to ask, is this stuff all new or is it originally part of the large base of writing that you've mentioned before that you have on Acid's universe?

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Both. The story is still the same, but I felt like telling it from the point of view of everyone involved this time. Don't know why I did this (I hardly ever know why I do things ), but I just didn't feel like just throwing out another of the many third-person tales we already have on these boards.

Which is also the reason it's taking its time. I'm basically gathering everyone's side of the thing, then selecting and writing down which would fit the current happenings best. Needless to say, that selection can be a little difficult at times, as more than one person may have just the right insight at a certain point.

As for my original chronicles - sorry Khell, that seems to have been lost to time. The electronic copy, anyway. The paper one is...somewhere. Come to think of it, that might've been the one I sent off to the publisher...hm, that'd be not good.

The story itself, thankfully, is not lost. I've still got a good amount of stuff in my head, and if I run across something I've forgotten, I can always go poke Mnemonyev, Vyachslav, or any of the other people with photographic memories I know.

"...which concludes the list of charges brought upon the person of the defendant. As set forth in the Code of Justice, the defendant is entitled to present an opinion of the guilt of self. Defendant, please convey to us your opinion."

The Announcer's words seemed to practically float from the holoscreen. I couldn't bring myself to look away from the proceedings, although I knew how it had to end.

Announcer Taahk himself presided over the panel of judges at the head of the courtroom, the pitch-black humanoid clothed in the fire-red robes of the Code of Justice. They indicated his status at present - his word would be law.

The Announcer of the Hetos, however, didn't seem to be reveling in the situation (as I had believed he surely would). If he was drinking in his victory at all, he was doing so in a covert and controlled fashion as he spoke, each word carefully weighed and measured before he sent it reverberating into the court.

The bright-orange hair of his night-black scalp had been stacked up to a conical monument, a representation of dignity, and his emerald eyes beheld coolly the defendant, looking down on the so unassuming creature that had been shackled to the seat below the Lawgiving Pedestal, all manner of devices surrounding him to prevent escape.

I knew who he was. I knew what he was: Acid Zero - Khelari and probably the greatest threat to the peace of the Concile since the depraved machinations of the demented 'Overhead' had finally been brought to an end.

If felt a chill run down my spine at these thoughts, though the reptilian creature's predatorial appearance probably did its part as well. Although he was vaguely humanoid, at least in the arrangement of and number of arms, legs, head and torso, the Khelari was nevertheless so very foreign for my tastes.

The head extended forward into a distinctly reptilian snout, and though long in relation to my own, the skull kept its proportions enough to sit on a standard neck joint instead of a long series of extended vertebrae. The face, however, was far removed from anything humanoid - skinned in a deep-green, leathery hide that retained its hue across the Khelari's whole body, the slitted yellow eyes were the most distinguishing mark of predatory reptilian ancestry. The rows of sharp, carnivorous teeth that exposed themselves as the Khelari smiled his most alien smile only underscored this notion.

One of the five clawed fingers of the left hand tapped with contempt upon the seat's armrest, lashed to the arm at the wrist. The long, whiplike tail that formed an extension of the creature's spine twitched impatiently in its restrains. They weren't taking any chances - it was widely known that a Khelari's tail wasn't just a vestigial remain of evolution. The fifth limb was just as functional as the other four, and perhaps even more dangerous if left unchecked.

And the court had left nothing unchecked - from the tail to the Khelari's garments, an ensemble of black, relaxed-fitting pants, heavy boots, an open jacket of the same hue, and a white T-shirt underneath.

It wasn't white anymore, however - thick streaks of dry, coagulated, crimson blood could be easily seen upon the blank material, unlike the night-black rest of the outfit. Acid Zero hadn't gone willingly, and he bore savage wounds as telltale marks of a vicious battle.

I found myself in thought as to what it must have taken to bring him in. His species was notoriously resilient. I suppose they had to be to survive on a world like Khelaris. It had been a world that most species (especially the humanoids, including me) considered a literal hell.

A rocky planet too close to its sun, its surface partially liquid, resulting in truly scorching temperatures…the atmosphere was so profoundly toxic to most known forms of life almost no one could survive any extended period o time in it. Noxious gases at high altitudes formed a choking cover of clouds across just about the entire planet, creating a perpetual scene of twilight, not to mention adding to the heat via a runaway greenhouse effect.

Indeed, Khelaris had been too hot to support the liquid phase of many substances that assumed this state of matter under normal circumstances. When things did cool down enough, it was never long...and it was no reprieve. Indeed, things only went more extreme when things got cooler, the harsh toxins in the clouds bonding around condensation nuclei to form literal rains of concentrated acid, ferociously sent hailing onto the surface below under the hellishly high gravitational conditions.

I couldn't even imagine surviving in such extremes - but the Khelari had considered it nothing but paradise.

"Not guilty." he finally said, ceasing his finger's tapping, "On grounds of insanity."

"I am afraid the court cannot recognize this argument, Mr. Zero." Announcer Taahk replied, placing his hands on the pedestal in front of him, "You are most certainly not..."

"Oh, I'm not talking about me." the reptilian spat back in interruption, almost with a laugh, "You're the nutcase here, not I."

Hushed mumbles could be heard in the crowd, but the Announcer maintained his composure, returning with, "The court of this trial..."

"Trial?!" the defendant cut through again, this time with a tad of a chuckle, "What trial? Oh, I'm sorry, you mean your little farce?!"

A breath of shock washed through the crowd, propagating like a wave. The murmurs became louder, faster…but Announcer Taahk retained his calm. Keeping his six-fingered hands where they were, the black-skinned Announcer of the Hetos arose to speak order and...

"Thysthe!" someone suddenly barked at me from behind, almost causing me to jump out of my skin right then and there as I whirled about.

It was of course my commanding officer, once more abusing my name almost as a swear word to rush my attention to the matters at hand. His deep-blue blast goggles were already over his eyes, the dull silver of the casings contrasting sharply with the copper skin and green-gray hair. Like me, he was Ferron, and proud of it.

I snapped to attention, my left hand racing to my forehead to lower my own goggles while the right brought my rifle to inspection position. The thermocannon slipped a bit, striking the metal of my armorsuit, reminding me of my second skin for a moment.

I took a short instant of time to mentally check through every function of my technological symbiote. The armor followed the contours of my body, its personal shielding systems affording me some protection in battle, while the tactical assault systems linked to the HUD on my goggles to give me an excellent overview of things.

"At the ready, Sir!" I rapidly answered, already expecting a cannonade of foul language to follow.

The officer, however, didn't let loose as usual. He didn't even get on my case about my long hair, which was somewhat against regulations.

Now I knew things were serious.

"They're coming." was all he said before walking back out of my quarters.

I suddenly had a lump in my throat. I knew who they were: Necrian stormtroopers, each practically a whole unit packed into a single warrior. Even with their planet destroyed, the few wolflike beings hadn't lost their pack mentality, following their leader like a single organism.

I knew the name of that leader as well: Allen of the Fang Clan.

A chill ran down my spine.

This couldn't be happening!

I set my feet into motion almost mechanically, my conscious mind now only remotely attached to my body. Downright robotically, I stepped out of my quarters and into the general assembly area of the barracks, where my unit and commanding officer already awaited, some of my fellow soldiers still falling into line.

As did I.

Standing there, my eyes and ears soaking up the briefing, I already knew the strategy being outlined was doomed to failure.

This Acid had powerful allies - and they were coming for him, willing to tear right through us if necessary.

Chances are it would be.

Our personal shields gave us protection from their paralyzers, which meant they'd be switching to conventional weaponry once we had engaged their number.

Fully lethal conventional weaponry.

I concentrated on shutting down my emotional centers as much as I could. Fear had no place in battle, and if I showed any, my death would be certain.

"...and we'll not only be dealing with them." my commanding officer continued, "General Fang and his men are reported to have in their company a Krayten - a being of great telekinetic power. I need not tell you to keep your shields up at all times. Otherwise this being could reach right into you and stop your vital functions at a whim. Or worse, rip 'em right out of you."

I shuddered at the mere thought of this potential. Vern was the Krayten's name, and what was left of his people weren't exactly on the best terms with our Concile leadership. I didn't even want to imagine running into...

A sound of thunder interrupted both my thoughts and the briefing. The floor shuddered somewhat. Alarms blared in the distance.

"They're in the building." the officer stated coldly, with the same tone one would announce a death sentence, "You know what to do...move out."

This couldn't be happening...

Hotaka moved away from the door, smirking slightly.

"I welcome the companionship." he nodded with a gentle reply...

((Hm...I should probably interject then. ))

Just outside the grounds, at the dojo's entryway, two figures appeared in thin air. To any sort of sensor, whether technological, arcane, or any other working principle, their method of travel would have been identified as 'teleportation'.

"So this is it?" questioned the taller (indeed, very tall) person of the shorter one, covered in a heavy gray cloak and hood.

"Indeed." sighed that figure to the crimson-robed man, and though neither's eyes could be seen for respective reasons - the tall man's large bamboo coolie obscure his in the manner of a Tsoo sorcerer while the cloaked figure's hood didn't let enough light in to view the face - he could almost be seen rolling his eyes, "Why do you always have to question my sense of direction? You know very well this is statistically the safest method of travel."

The tall man shrugged, the fingerless wraps of black cloth on his arms shifting as he moved, "I can't help it. Still gives me the willies every time."

"You're hopeless." responded the cloaked figure with a shake of the head.

The two stepped ahead...

Ryuu Hotaka was downright inconsolable. No new cellmate for him? How very tragic...

Perhaps the rumors had spread already. Perhaps it was time to leave - befroe what had really heppened to the mad doctor reached the light of day...

Hotaka still hadn't moved, and though a wall stood between his eyes and the new arrivals (the viewport in his cell door was too low for him to look through without bending down), the unnerving feeling that he was watching with crystal clarity pervaded the being of anyone who looked in his direction.

Well, isn't this interesting...and here I'd thought there weren't any humans left who could speak to the spirits...

((And once more, my resistance fails me! Curse, you Khell!

M'kay, I might as well pick up where I left off then... ))

Footsteps.

The heavy kind.

Characteristic of PPD Hard Suits.

Which was exactly the source - two of them, in fact.

Together with a duo of typical-looking prison guards, the armored suits formed a sort of escort.

The one being escorted, however, didn't seem worthy of such attention.

Tall and slim was the man, the former almost ridiculously so, towering at well over two point five meters, which created a slim appearance, even from a build somewhere between athletic and average.

Then again, his size wasn't what generally caught people's attention around here. There were true monsters imprisoned at the Ziggurat.

His clothes.

He wasn't wearing a prison uniform.

Adorned in dark crimson robes of the martial arts, the cloth being remarkably simple, yet still laced with a secondary hue that resembled dull gold, the tall man's face was half-obscured by a large bamboo coolie, hiding his eyes in the same manner as a Tsoo Sorcerer.

Tsoo, however, the man was not. Sakai Tamaki would confirm this to anyone. Still, the robes, along with the simple black cloth intricately wrapped around the man's arms and legs, indicated there was something quite unusual about this prisoner.

What was true and what was not was a matter of who you talked to. Everyone seemed to have a different story to tell.

Truth, however, was hard to find.

The cause of this burial of information - even harder.

Some time ago, a murder had occurred at the Zig. At least, that's what people said. The investigation had classified it as a suicide - a depraved man at the end of his rope.

The man's name had been Raiken. He'd been the head doctor of the prison, at least officially. Truly, he had been a madman, and a sadistic one at that, abusing the prisoners for his own dark and twisted gains in the torture chamber he’d called his 'investigative research area'.

Few spoke of the horrors that had transpired in that room. Fewer had come out alive. And even fewer had made it out in one piece.

Until the day the cruel doctor had met an equally cruel end - though some still said it hadn't been cruel enough, both guard and prisoner alike. Raiken had called no one friend, and had the rules not protected the guards from his depraved machinations, few doubted the Zig's staff would have been subject to the mad doctor's scalpel as well.

He'd been found in his lab, torn to pieces. Blood had been spattered on floors, walls, and even the ceiling, not to mention over most of the equipment. In his hands, clutched in the grip of necrosis, had been the implements of the massacre - a butcher knife and a bone saw.

It wasn't hard to make out where those had been used on his flayed body.

His eyes had stared wide-open into space, an expression of blank horror, as if he'd seen something incomprehensible just before he'd done the deed.

But the only other person in the room at the time had been a prisoner.

A prisoner with not a single 'power'.

Ryuu Hotaka.

Though covered in the doctor's blood (as half the room had been), he'd not only been strapped to an examination table at the time, but no fingerprints or other residue had been on the utensils used to do Raiken in.

Hotaka himself had been cooperative, if brief, with his testament. What he'd spoken, however, had been locked away in the files of the prison.

Suicide - that's what all the facts had pointed to. That's what all evidence had yielded, not a single speck of dust countering the conclusion. Everything added up.

But tell that to a crowd of prisoners terrorized by such a man. Tell that to a staff of guards who harbored just about equal feelings for him.

Ryuu Hotaka had killed Raiken - that was the unofficial word, though no proof existed.

But in a place like this, rumors were strong, and fear was even stronger. Hotaka was feared, even though his behavior had never been that of a 'villain'.

But if he could do what he did to Raiken...what could he do to others?

"Step in." the man in the Hard Suit to Hotaka's right stated, not harshly, but also not politely, as the cell door opened. Most of the guards nowadays treated him like an object - something neutral, something you neither wanted to be too close to nor have it hold any interest in you.

Hotaka ducked a bit as he entered the cell, so as to not collide with the doorframe, and then the escort shut the heavy door behind him once more, departing after they were satisfied things were secure.

From their large holding block, the new arrivals had been able to get a good view of most of the scene. Even now, the small viewport in the heavy door allowed some sight of Hotaka.

He'd turned to face the door.

And now was just standing there in utter silence...

((Bah, now that the 'appearances can be deceiving' can has been opened, I'm having serious resistance issues here. Curse you, Thunderbug, I have end of terms to study for! ))

The site of the Lighthouse Siren's Call had been named for was always a-bustle with the forces of Arachnos these days. Had the pirate Randall known of what had become of his ultimate scheme, chances are he would have rolled over in his grave.

Not that Arachnos cared - they set their bases up wherever they darn well pleased, no matter the opposition. Some wondered if this was wise, but the large number of 'villains' seeking to prove themselves to Recluse and garner his organization’s favor certainly seemed to suggest so.

In a crowd that large, two more were hardly noticed.

"Well, ain't this a pleasure." the Arbiter chuckled with a smirk as he looked over the LCD screen of his high-tech clipboard, and then back to the man whose registry he had just found.

The guy was almost obscenely tall, certainly reaching past two point five meters, and the Arbiter had to look up quite a few degrees to directly see his face.

The large bamboo coolie obscuring half of said face, as in the manner of a Tsoo Sorcerer, of course didn't exactly help things. Still, the primarily dark crimson robes of the martial arts were a dead giveaway, as were the intricate wrappings of black cloth that covered the arms, legs, and feet of the tall man. The lacings of the robes seemed to have a golden hue, which meshed well with the man's tan skin.

"How so?" the Arbiter was questioned by said man, "I don't recall close ties with Arachnos."

"Yeah, but you beat old fish-face silly." the Arbiter chuckled again, "And that makes my job a lot easier, trust me. Mako's always been loose cannon, and I don't doubt there's an Arbiter in the corps who actually likes dealing with the guy. When the man you're trying to settle down has a motto of 'I just wanna kill people.', logic is hard to get across, ya know?"

"Tell me about it." came a huff from the figure beside the tall man, obviously a lackey or other sort of accomplice, entirely hidden under a heavy gray cloak and hood.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" the tall man crossed his arms, "I am most certainly not impervious to good logic."

The Arbiter chuckled once more. Things like this made his job worth it every time.

"Alright then." he nodded as his device finally spat out the requested data, "The Dojo of the Lurking Shadow's right there, can't miss it. It's kind of a neutral zone, so don't cause a ruckus, alright? And if ya do, you didn't get these directions from me, okay?"

"Oh, don't worry." smiled the tall man, "I'm sure we'll fit right in."

The Arbiter smirked as the duo turned to leave and the next person in line stepped forward. He threw one more glance at the 'villain name' spot in his registry.

I'm sure ya will...heh, Dragon of Decay. Sounds like you'll feel right at home.

"OMGgimmeinspsfast!" suddenly came a shout from the stalker in front of him, "Teh hero noobs are base campin agin, cant u c?"

The Arbiter rolled his eyes at the man. This was going to be a looooong day...

((Indeed, we are waiting for Crimson's reply. ))

Pah - when's the last time you played with your radioactive lizard while we were around?

Haha, that's pretty cool. Mr. and Mrs. Zephyr.