(Hey all, this is part 2 of Husk Corperation story. If you havn't read the first one, search for "Husk Corperation. After you finish that, come back and read this. All the character descriptions, such as what they look like, and what they do, are listed in the first story, so it's almost vital that you read it first.)
Mr. Tribal was seriously considering leaving Husk Corp. Sure, the pay was amazing, everyone was friendly, and he got to work with the famous supervillain, Lord H'tead himself. Still, all the heists they pulled together were incredibly dangerous. The very first mission they went on was to steal finicial records from city hall, and they got ambushed by Mrs. Liberty, barely escaping before reinforcements arrived to help her. Then a week later, Snyapse showed up and beat the tar out of Mr. Nomed and White at the speed of sound when they were robbing the national gold reserve. Both of them were fine, since they couldn't feel pain, but they still wound up with several fractured bones. Then when the group had been stealing experimental tech from Portal Corp, Statesman, Manticore, and Citadel all showed up, with a small army of police drones to back them up. Mr. Poe's left arm had to be surgically fused back onto him, Lord H'tead's armor caved in, Mr. Nomed shattered both his fists, and Mr. Walker got beaten on the head, neck, and right leg with his own pistol. Sooner or later Mr. Tribal himself would run into a tragic accident, and who said he would survive? He had a plan, however...
Mr. Tribal had been payed an eighth of what the group stole, as did everyone else, and he had over two hundred and forty six million dollars in cash, which he packed into a small briefcase, using only thousand dollar bills, discarded all his Husk Corp. equipment, (fearful that it all might be bugged) and headed for the teleport bay. He couldn't use the telepads without his I.D. (which he had discarded with the rest of his equipment) but, he had always noticed a door to the back of the room.
WARNING. EXIT. DO NOT OPEN. IN CASE OF EMERGENCIES, STILL DO NOT OPEN. IN CASE OF NUCLEAR FALLOUT, YOU STILL CANNOT OPEN. IN CASE OF THE APOCALYPSE, GUESS WHAT? YOU STILL CAN'T FREAKING OPEN THIS DAMN DOOR.
Mr. Tribal wasn't going to let any damn door get between him and the rest of his life, which would be filled with big-screened TVs, five story mansions, and more girlfriends then he could count. He reached for the release valve.
"Going somewhere?" Said a cheerful voice. Mr. Tribal spun around. It was Mr. Kuro. "Didn't you read the sign on the door? It is quite clear." Mr. Tribal thought furiously. He decided that lying would be impossible. With Mr. Kuro's computerized sunglasses, he could probably tell if Mr. Tribal was lying by checking the readouts. "I'm leaving." Mr. Tribal said, speaking the truth. "It was fun, but it's too dangerous." "Okie Dokie then." Said Mr. Kuro. "Go ahead." That surprised Mr. Tribal, but he shrugged, and pull the release valve.
He looked out the door. He blinked. The landscape he was looking at was the Shadow Shard. He pushed the release valve back up, and the door closed.
Mr. Kuro nodded. "Well...We all knew this would happen eventually. I think it's time we had a talk with the boss." Mr. Kuro rushed across the room faster then the eye could follow, and delievered a KO blow to Mr. Tribal. Mr. Tribal couldn't feel pain, of course, but the blow went right to his head, and knocked him out.
When Mr. Tribal woke up, he was floating in the Nullifier beam. "Ah [censored]..." He thought. He squinted, and through the haze, he saw Mr. Kuro, Lord H'tead, and...
The leader of Husk Corp spoke. "I told you in the begining that my name was not important. Now it is, however. My name is Lord Diov." Mr. Tribal tried to speak, tried to say something, ANYTHING to get out of his current situation, but his mouth simply wouldn't obey his brain. "I think it is time I explained a few things to you. Let us start with me. Diov is not my real name, of course. I dare not tell it to anyone. I am a Demon. A Demon from an alternate reality where an entity known as the Void has consumed all of existance. In the last few seconds before all of reality was extinguished, I was rescued..." Diov drifted, he stared into the air above him. "By him...but he is not important to our tale. What he did do that matters, was that he rescued me, and he gave me this." Diov reached up to his right collar, and ripped off the diamond shapped, blood red brooch he always wore there. "THIS...Is an artifact...which contains a sliver of essence from the Void that consumed the alternate reality I came from. It gives me power over dimensions, really...or probabilities in those dimensions...It allows me to control the flow of space and time, it allows me to create something from nothing, work the most complicated magics, and create the most complicated technology. I can travel through time, go to any place in any time, be any person in any time...This brooch here...contains a fraction of the power of a cosmic entity. Through this gem, I created Husk Corp. Why not just use the gem to gain whatever I want without the need of Husk Corp, you might ask. The answer is, that using the gem too much draws the attention of the cosmic entity it was stolen from. So it is much better to have an automated process in which I can get what I need. Hence, I used the gem's power to create Husk Corp." Diov paused, letting all the information sink in. Tribal wanted to scream, to call Diov crazy, to do ANYTHING...but he couldn't an unknown force prevented him from doing anything. "You have been with us for over a year...Yet you still don't know what Husk Corp actually DOES. Here's the answer. Husk Corp is all about the creation of Husks. What is a husk, you ask?" He pointed at Mr. Kuro. "There's one right there." Mr. Nomed and Mr. White appeared out of nowhere. "There are two more!" Diov said. Then, Mr. Walker and Mr. Poe popped from nothingness. "And there are some more!" Diov said with a jovial tone. He leaned forward slightly. "They look just like ordinary people, no? Well that is because they ARE. The only differance between them and you, is that A: They have no free will. They MUST obey any command given to them by me or H'tead. 2: They were not 'born,' as you would put it." Diov paused again. Tribal still struggled, but the force holding him was too powerful. He couldn't even blink. "So how do Husks come into being?" Diov pretended to muse. "Here's how it works. Using advanced technomancy...Magical artifacts and spells combined with technological devices and programs...Husk Corp. drains the life essense out of the matter in the universe. It then twists, and warps this energy, and we use it to fuel...these." He gestured at the thugs standing about the room." The husks themselves are lifeless flash-clones of normal people just like you, Mr. Tribal. All of them went through the same process you are going through right now. Lured into our litle corperation here using pop-up ads on the internet of individuals who we knew would not be missed by anyone." There was a hint of smugness in his voice now. "We put them through the trial of the Stress Impact Platform, the torture of the Nullifier beam, the year long test of random robberies and raids in Paragon city...They all got the same idea. 'I must leave before I die.' They all try to escape, they all get caught, and they all have the same little chat with me that you are having now." Diov had sat down on a leather swivel chair that had appeared from nowhere. "Then do you know what we do?" Diov asked. "We killed them. Then we would use our technomancy to examine their corpses, gather all the data on them, and enter it into our network. Using this process, we have an unlimited amount of husks to use, all of the same people. Those people are...Mr. Walker. Mr. Poe. Mr. White. Mr. Kuro. Mr. Nomed. Previously...there also used to be a Mr. Blunt. However, we found out that his particular model of Husks could still feel pain, so we eliminated that line. We needed a replacement." Diov looked directly into Tribal's eyes. Tribal tried to scream as those reflective red monocles met his eyes, but found he couldn't. "And now...Is the end of the road...For YOU, Mr. Tribal." Lord H'tead's fists began to crackle with electrical energy. "Goodbye." Said Lord Diov. He nodded to Lord H'tead. A beam of energy rocketed from Lord H'tead's hands, incinerating Mr. Tribal on the spot.
The Back Alley Brawler found himself fighting a never-ending sea of thugs who all looked exactly the same. He punched one, then another, then another...
Far away, in an alternate reality, there was a screen. Words scrolled across the screen.
"Mr. Tribal No. 34897 has been defeated by Hero No. 361. Activating Production Line one..."
"Mr. Tribal No. 34898 has been defeated by Hero No. 361. Activating Production Line one..."
"Mr. Tribal No. 34899 has been defeated by Hero No. 361. Activating Production Line one..."
The Back Alley Brawler slipped. He was swarmed, beaten, and finally defeated by a never ending sea of thugs, all of whom looked exactly the same. His medical porter kicked in, and he was whisked away.
A few of the thugs removed their sun glasses to clean them. All of them looked exactly like Jason C. Tribal.
(Hey all, this is part 2 of Husk Corperation story. If you havn't read the first one, search for "Husk Corperation. After you finish that, come back and read this. All the character descriptions, such as what they look like, and what they do, are listed in the first story, so it's almost vital that you read it first.)
Mr. Tribal was seriously considering leaving Husk Corp. Sure, the pay was amazing, everyone was friendly, and he got to work with the famous supervillain, Lord H'tead himself. Still, all the heists they pulled together were incredibly dangerous. The very first mission they went on was to steal finicial records from city hall, and they got ambushed by Mrs. Liberty, barely escaping before reinforcements arrived to help her. Then a week later, Snyapse showed up and beat the tar out of Mr. Nomed and White at the speed of sound when they were robbing the national gold reserve. Both of them were fine, since they couldn't feel pain, but they still wound up with several fractured bones. Then when the group had been stealing experimental tech from Portal Corp, Statesman, Manticore, and Citadel all showed up, with a small army of police drones to back them up. Mr. Poe's left arm had to be surgically fused back onto him, Lord H'tead's armor caved in, Mr. Nomed shattered both his fists, and Mr. Walker got beaten on the head, neck, and right leg with his own pistol. Sooner or later Mr. Tribal himself would run into a tragic accident, and who said he would survive? He had a plan, however...
Mr. Tribal had been payed an eighth of what the group stole, as did everyone else, and he had over two hundred and forty six million dollars in cash, which he packed into a small briefcase, using only thousand dollar bills, discarded all his Husk Corp. equipment, (fearful that it all might be bugged) and headed for the teleport bay. He couldn't use the telepads without his I.D. (which he had discarded with the rest of his equipment) but, he had always noticed a door to the back of the room.
WARNING. EXIT. DO NOT OPEN. IN CASE OF EMERGENCIES, STILL DO NOT OPEN. IN CASE OF NUCLEAR FALLOUT, YOU STILL CANNOT OPEN. IN CASE OF THE APOCALYPSE, GUESS WHAT? YOU STILL CAN'T FREAKING OPEN THIS DAMN DOOR.
Mr. Tribal wasn't going to let any damn door get between him and the rest of his life, which would be filled with big-screened TVs, five story mansions, and more girlfriends then he could count. He reached for the release valve.
"Going somewhere?" Said a cheerful voice. Mr. Tribal spun around. It was Mr. Kuro. "Didn't you read the sign on the door? It is quite clear." Mr. Tribal thought furiously. He decided that lying would be impossible. With Mr. Kuro's computerized sunglasses, he could probably tell if Mr. Tribal was lying by checking the readouts. "I'm leaving." Mr. Tribal said, speaking the truth. "It was fun, but it's too dangerous." "Okie Dokie then." Said Mr. Kuro. "Go ahead." That surprised Mr. Tribal, but he shrugged, and pull the release valve.
He looked out the door. He blinked. The landscape he was looking at was the Shadow Shard. He pushed the release valve back up, and the door closed.
Mr. Kuro nodded. "Well...We all knew this would happen eventually. I think it's time we had a talk with the boss." Mr. Kuro rushed across the room faster then the eye could follow, and delievered a KO blow to Mr. Tribal. Mr. Tribal couldn't feel pain, of course, but the blow went right to his head, and knocked him out.
When Mr. Tribal woke up, he was floating in the Nullifier beam. "Ah [censored]..." He thought. He squinted, and through the haze, he saw Mr. Kuro, Lord H'tead, and...
The leader of Husk Corp spoke. "I told you in the begining that my name was not important. Now it is, however. My name is Lord Diov." Mr. Tribal tried to speak, tried to say something, ANYTHING to get out of his current situation, but his mouth simply wouldn't obey his brain. "I think it is time I explained a few things to you. Let us start with me. Diov is not my real name, of course. I dare not tell it to anyone. I am a Demon. A Demon from an alternate reality where an entity known as the Void has consumed all of existance. In the last few seconds before all of reality was extinguished, I was rescued..." Diov drifted, he stared into the air above him. "By him...but he is not important to our tale. What he did do that matters, was that he rescued me, and he gave me this." Diov reached up to his right collar, and ripped off the diamond shapped, blood red brooch he always wore there. "THIS...Is an artifact...which contains a sliver of essence from the Void that consumed the alternate reality I came from. It gives me power over dimensions, really...or probabilities in those dimensions...It allows me to control the flow of space and time, it allows me to create something from nothing, work the most complicated magics, and create the most complicated technology. I can travel through time, go to any place in any time, be any person in any time...This brooch here...contains a fraction of the power of a cosmic entity. Through this gem, I created Husk Corp. Why not just use the gem to gain whatever I want without the need of Husk Corp, you might ask. The answer is, that using the gem too much draws the attention of the cosmic entity it was stolen from. So it is much better to have an automated process in which I can get what I need. Hence, I used the gem's power to create Husk Corp." Diov paused, letting all the information sink in. Tribal wanted to scream, to call Diov crazy, to do ANYTHING...but he couldn't an unknown force prevented him from doing anything. "You have been with us for over a year...Yet you still don't know what Husk Corp actually DOES. Here's the answer. Husk Corp is all about the creation of Husks. What is a husk, you ask?" He pointed at Mr. Kuro. "There's one right there." Mr. Nomed and Mr. White appeared out of nowhere. "There are two more!" Diov said. Then, Mr. Walker and Mr. Poe popped from nothingness. "And there are some more!" Diov said with a jovial tone. He leaned forward slightly. "They look just like ordinary people, no? Well that is because they ARE. The only differance between them and you, is that A: They have no free will. They MUST obey any command given to them by me or H'tead. 2: They were not 'born,' as you would put it." Diov paused again. Tribal still struggled, but the force holding him was too powerful. He couldn't even blink. "So how do Husks come into being?" Diov pretended to muse. "Here's how it works. Using advanced technomancy...Magical artifacts and spells combined with technological devices and programs...Husk Corp. drains the life essense out of the matter in the universe. It then twists, and warps this energy, and we use it to fuel...these." He gestured at the thugs standing about the room." The husks themselves are lifeless flash-clones of normal people just like you, Mr. Tribal. All of them went through the same process you are going through right now. Lured into our litle corperation here using pop-up ads on the internet of individuals who we knew would not be missed by anyone." There was a hint of smugness in his voice now. "We put them through the trial of the Stress Impact Platform, the torture of the Nullifier beam, the year long test of random robberies and raids in Paragon city...They all got the same idea. 'I must leave before I die.' They all try to escape, they all get caught, and they all have the same little chat with me that you are having now." Diov had sat down on a leather swivel chair that had appeared from nowhere. "Then do you know what we do?" Diov asked. "We killed them. Then we would use our technomancy to examine their corpses, gather all the data on them, and enter it into our network. Using this process, we have an unlimited amount of husks to use, all of the same people. Those people are...Mr. Walker. Mr. Poe. Mr. White. Mr. Kuro. Mr. Nomed. Previously...there also used to be a Mr. Blunt. However, we found out that his particular model of Husks could still feel pain, so we eliminated that line. We needed a replacement." Diov looked directly into Tribal's eyes. Tribal tried to scream as those reflective red monocles met his eyes, but found he couldn't. "And now...Is the end of the road...For YOU, Mr. Tribal." Lord H'tead's fists began to crackle with electrical energy. "Goodbye." Said Lord Diov. He nodded to Lord H'tead. A beam of energy rocketed from Lord H'tead's hands, incinerating Mr. Tribal on the spot.
The Back Alley Brawler found himself fighting a never-ending sea of thugs who all looked exactly the same. He punched one, then another, then another...
Far away, in an alternate reality, there was a screen. Words scrolled across the screen.
"Mr. Tribal No. 34897 has been defeated by Hero No. 361. Activating Production Line one..."
"Mr. Tribal No. 34898 has been defeated by Hero No. 361. Activating Production Line one..."
"Mr. Tribal No. 34899 has been defeated by Hero No. 361. Activating Production Line one..."
The Back Alley Brawler slipped. He was swarmed, beaten, and finally defeated by a never ending sea of thugs, all of whom looked exactly the same. His medical porter kicked in, and he was whisked away.
A few of the thugs removed their sun glasses to clean them. All of them looked exactly like Jason C. Tribal.
Fin.