Iwaku: Rebirth

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  1. It was just another day in this cloudy wasteland. Buildings shined with grime and dust while people scurried around on the ground- getting to where they needed to go as quickly as they could. This was an age of avoidance… a society filled with anti-social characters.

    Only semi-deplorable- it could be worse.

    A giant screen, cracked and dusty, showed a add for “Project Angel Wing”. Under the name, there was slogan, “Find your roots.”

    So far, only 1% of the population has become involved with it, though it’s easy to tell that this is only the beginning. More and more, people are being showered with these adds, telling them to join the project, to find out more about themselves, indulge their curiosity.

    When they do, they’ll be playing into their hands. They benefited from the mass’s curiosity. While they learned more about their pasts, these doctors used the information they found and squirreled it away for others to use.

    Like most days, at 3 PM on the dot, a message from Sakura was played on the screen.

    “Everyone…. I would like to thank you for being such wonderful citizens! We are super-duperly proud to announce that tonight, at ten, if you turn on channel 34, you can listen to an empowering address from my secretary, Tegan- addressing the concerns that some citizens might be having for reported recent problems, such as spikes in crime rates, and the new management for Coding Co. (Where you become part of the society, and help us make this city better, sooner) as well as an interview with one of the Co-founders of Project Angel Wing! For the next few weeks, there will be a curfew enacted, everyone needs to be home at nine PM! Have a nice day!”

    The video was obviously spliced clips of Sakura talking about something else, arranged in a way that it truly did look as though she was speaking to us… All smiles and comforting body language…. the voice was an imitation. Nothing could be taking at face-value anymore, though, some lies were harder to spot than the video of Sakura giving that speech. Some lies, you really had to work to uncover, and even when you did- it was too impossible to be true.

    Soon after that, a new commercial showed on the screen, talking about how all citizens should go get their barcodes updated and re-done... The only good thing was that you didn’t have to pay for it.

    On every street corner, there were WANTED posters, which held Asmo, Paorou, and Rory’s likeness on them. A hefty reward would be given for any information.

    Life as usual….

    Still, there was something to come soon, a change, a challenge to the system.


    I was lying face down, on a bit of a padded table, wires and tubes coming out of my body at various points- a steady dripping of small amounts of morphine through an IV, attached at the crook of my arm was making it all more comfortable- though it made it hard to focus on anything… I think they had something else along with the morphine in that bag, but I kept my mouth shut, aside from answering questions. The usual of my appointments now and days, was to see how my powers were changing- apparently sifting through my memories jolted one of my old abilities back into use slightly. Then that leads to another change in the magnetized barcode on my neck.

    Somewhere in the madness of this, I can only hope that only a few people are going through this.

    Eventually, the port on the back of my neck, under my barcode is freed-up, and I can watch as they go about removing the tubes and wires from me- all except for the one behind my left ear- the only one I had actually wanted removed. There was a pressure forming in my head… the precursor to a headache.

    They fitted me with an odd metallic head-band, it had little connective points all around it that measured my brainwaves- others worked on bringing up forgotten memories and lives, more of those pads analyzed my emotional state… While they watch my memories on one screen, I have the flashbacks- restraints come on at points- sometimes the memories become vivid enough that when I feel pain in them, I feel it as if it was happening then. With wrists and ankles bound, I start to register memories. Military… some… guy… Asian… Fangs… the flashes of memories become more concrete, the drip of the IV and the port in my head are probably helping some. This was during the Admin war. I could remember it. Visions of Rory and Kitti followed up soon after.

    “Do you recognize this?” A voice asks as I hear the clicks of a keyboard. A laptop, with a lavender-colored holographic screen comes into view as I struggle out of my flashback and lift my head from the padded head-rest to see the person asking the questions. A white lab coat covering his body, and a surgical mask and cap obscuring his features- as well as glasses that were catching the glint of the lights from the ceiling. Another doctor that I can’t identify.

    “Yeah…. Admin war… I think… I was with Rory and Kitti…” I answer, somewhat still groggy from the drugs and memory. “I… No, I’m wrong…. I started out with the ISAF… No… I wasn’t with them… I was… friends with some of them… I… don’t know how I ended up on that ship with Kitti and Rory.” I explain, wanting to massage my temples… my head was aching- the restraints were chafing me as well.

    “Mhm,” was the only reply I got as the man’s hands flew over the keyboard, probably saving this conversation somewhere, to be analyzed by someone else.

    “Ok, we’re going to go back a bit further, like in the last appointment.” He informs me in monotone, and I nod, unable to fight it, so I put my head back down, closing my eyes. Immediately I feel a sharp pain in my stomach and struggle against the four points of restraint, wanting to curl into a ball. I see someone… the scene had changed… someone had moved me, or I moved myself… I heard someone chiding me for getting myself nearly killed all the time before I feel my stomach knitting back together... This memory is old… very old… and I can’t grasp it.

    “And this one?” The ever-inquisitive staff of this place always seems to ask.

    “I… I still can’t remember entirely… It’s still not enough… there are too many pieces missing.” I admit, still aching where the phantom pain had been in my stomach. I felt sick… and as if on cue, a waste bin is tossed in front of me. One of the only good reasons for this damned headband- I think they can pick up when I’m about to get sick. I empty the contents of my stomach into the bin, someone mopped up the drool from my mouth and my head slams back down onto the headrest, exhausted.

    “We’ve been over that memory quite a lot… any… any reason you’re so interested in it?” I manage to ask, though an answer is never heard. They cue it up again. Same pain, same voice… that person… a man. No… no… not a man… he looks human… I looked human… nothing more than that… only small bits and pieces come back every time… I dry-heaved into the bin and watch as the room spins around me- only because I was nauseous.

    Again, and I can only manage to tell them that I think the man’s name was Dante… I think… something like that. The next flashback is the same life, but a different point…
    A kiss… that smell… like burning leather and sweat… that voice… that fucking voice… I couldn’t get much out of the memory- my head was starting to ache again, that voice… called me a cry baby… Why… why was I crying all of a sudden? I felt so immensely sad…

    Someone asking me a question, but I was too focused on trying to figure out that memory… I was trying to remember- it wasn’t a lack of effort that was preventing me from recalling these instances…

    Again, a question was asked, something about what I thought of this memory, though… I had started to piece it together…

    “He was going to get killed… I…. I think I loved him… I… couldn’t handle it…” I muttered under my breath my brows furrowed. “One more time… I… I think I’m close.” I added.
    It went on again… I saw the glimpse of a face… then more of the memory came back… She… I… “He was the enemy… but I loved him… when he and his rival killed each other, I buried them… and I slept for ten years… they came back somehow… he… I… There’s… parts missing still.” I spat through the headrest, frustration evident. I was done, no more. I felt my wrists and ankles get their freedom of movement back, and I sat up, more wires and tubing being removed, someone took the IV from my arm. The headband was removed and I was allowed to change back into my clothes.

    Later, I walked home, greeted by the sight of the kids all piled into the foyer- asleep. They had tried to stay up and wait for me, I think. I put them all to bed and then wrote out my memories in that journal before trying to figure out what I could do. Those people… They were trying to figure out what life we took most of our cues from… what we were based on the most.. They were trying to change us… something else was wrong… something… I felt like there was something blatantly out of place in my memories, but I couldn’t make sense of it… I needed to get out of here… That memory…

    That memory, I needed it to be full… I needed it to be complete… something was important about it, I could tell. That man… that kiss… my reactions to him....
    That memory is important to them… that, and this weird version of me that’s yet to even exist…

    I got up to check on the kids, all asleep still, in their beds- I could hear their even heartbeats, and deep breathing… All of them seemed fine.
    It was six at night- the curfew would be in effect soon, and I needed to stay inside, but I wanted nothing more than to leave this house and take a walk to clear my head. I wanted to watch what Tegan had to say, though. After leaving the kid’s room, I stalked into the living room, flipped the television on while I worked on writing out more of my thoughts and ideas, trying to make them more concrete.

    They had been interested in three things, really- the furthest thing in my past, and what appeared to be the part of me that was furthest in the future, and my memories to use this… No… they were interested in the last cycle, the end of it… what had I remembered?

    The T.V. blared an alarm, and I looked over at it, to see two familiar faces… Two more people had been added to the “wanted” list. After a couple more seconds, it went back to a cheery broadcast for the week, weather and whatnot. Simple talk. It was then that I felt a ringing in my ears and a headache that topped everything else that I had felt since I first came in for that project… I pressed my hands to the sides of my head, only to bring back my left hand- feeling something wet… blood… blood was leaking from that port… I don’t… think it’s supposed to do that… I stared at my hand for a while, transfixed by the blood, then realized the headache and ringing was gone… I decided I was fine and washed myself of the blood while I waited for this message from Tegan to the people of Iwaku. Finally, the announcement started… In the homes of many Iwakuians, this address would be remembered for years to come.
  2. "Farewell."

    Those words hung in the air for a moment or two as I nodded towards each and every figure gathered around in a large circle, comprised of at least a dozen people. They all too murmured their goodbyes. I could see tears in the eyes of the more sentimental ones; Provence, Optimisticism, Amerdechi, Piratex. The others all held straight faces which bore underlying currents of emotion that threatened to burst through.

    I was no exception.

    I turn around and I walked through the portal; we couldn't see the portal, but we knew it was there. When you were close to it you just got the feeling that there was something wrong. Of course there was - through sheer power we had unraveled the fabric of reality and formed a bridge through the void to another realm, and this was not the only portal in here. There were so many more, all with different people standing around it. Some of them were human, albeit a motley bunch clad in the attire and wielding the weapons of different ages, sometimes even a mixture. Some were far, far from human.

    We hadn't bothered to tell each other that we hoped our paths would cross once again. It was highly unlikely, almost impossible for that to happen. They were all leaving to different, faraway worlds, planes, realities, realms. Whatever you wanted to call it. The crumbling realm was already the composition of at least a few dozen, and they had learnt through their years here that there were so many more like it. I was going to miss them, truly. They were friends that had fought alongside me, ran, walked, cried, laughed.

    And we were never going to see each other again.

    However, I didn't look back as I walked through the portal. I knew that it was futile. Even through our combined powers, that were considered divine in that previous realm we had only managed to open one-way ones and they depleted our powers, to the point where we would no longer be the gods we once were when we reached our destinations. We had decided that it was actually a blessing in disguise. It meant that we could start all over again, as another denizen of that world and not as a god like we had been, and not stagnated - stagnation, the lack of change, of improvement had been the reason for the fall of the most of us. Some who originally walked the path of Light grew bored with their powers and decided that they were better of conquering than helping.

    And I, the one who truly straddled the line between Dark and Light had to tear them apart with my very hands, and cast them into the void so that they could never come back; some things I had done, I wasn't too proud of. But they needed to be done, because no one else would do it.

    The last of the power that made me divine was turned into some sort of protective barrier that protected me from the darkness of the void between worlds, and the similar, yet different void of space.

    I was like a meteor, plunging through space; I outran stars and planets and moons, them all becoming merely streaks of light in my wake as the laws of Physics gave me the ability to continue on without any means of propulsion. Iwaku, my destination was becoming clearer and clearer - Now I could be with my other friends, the ones I have known from my brief stints in Iwaku.

    However, as I neared my destination I was yanked out of my original path by an unknown force that left me helpless in its wake.
  3. It's always the same for me when ever I come to Anglewing they poke, prod and probe me trying to find something but the results are always the same. Like a broken record my memoeries only repeat the last two cycles everything else is just small fragments that are too blurred to make out, I can tell the lab coats are just about done with me at this point we've been at this for weeks without any results. Honestly I starting to think the same...maybe my past ives are just a lost cause maybe I'm not supposed to remember what I've done...who knows maybe I was some cruel evil being in my past and this is punishment for what I'd done....I can tell one thing from the fragments though, they are ancient in origin I can't tell what era they are from or where but I still get the same feeling every time they appear, old and full of wisdom.

    "Today we're going to try going deeper, see we can work through the fog to a clearer memory." the starile labs coats begin to usher me into my seat, they start the morphine and hook cables into my wrist and neck. I try taking a deep breath and relax, I always get nervous at the beginning the sight of them plugging things into me like some computer just puts me on edge. Soon after the morphine kicks in and I'm able to relax, one of the labs coats types into his computer the head ban used to read my memories starts up and we begin. At they start off covered in a thick fog but as the lab coats contieus typing I start moving past it, we zip through the first two memories I'm able to remember then move deeper. The fragments come again, they don't stop to try and record them like they used to...no instead they contiue on try to find something other than more blurred memories my head starts to hurt and I groan in pain but they don't stop. They dig deeper try to find something what they hope to find I don't know, all I know is that they're getting fed up with me and if we don't find something soon they'll just throw me out of the project. The lab coats work franticly trying to find some memory before the strain becomes too much for me to bear. The fog dosen't deminish it's like a wall trying to keep me from finding out about my past, with no end in sight I'm pushed further.
  4. "Hello boys and girls! Welcome to Happy's Funtime Entertainment! We hope you enjoy your time here with us and have a Fun Filled Happy Day!" The familiar recording sounded through the loudspeakers of the facility that I worked at followed by that goddamn cheerful music. A sigh escaped my lips as I walked around the building catering to the fanciful whims and wishes of the children who were there to be entertained. Honestly, some days I just wanted to bash my face in with a frying pan, but that just would be too messy. Today I was dressed in a clown outfit. The irony in the fact that they'd chosen this persona for me today was beyond words. The large red lips, round red nose, and pale skin feigning a sense of constant glee and comical laughter. At the very least I had to add my own little touches to the costume to make it more feasible. A diamond was painted around my left eye and a few tears were coming from my right. At least with the 'lips' placed in a smile gave the illusion that I was a happy being. Really, though, i just wanted to die. I didn't mind the children so much, I never had which was surprising. They were a hit or miss. Either they loved me or hated me, so really it was a 50/50 toss up. It was generally the parents though that I detested. I admit, in my down time I would sometimes daydream of the different ways I could rid myself of them. Does that make me a bad person I wonder?

    I'd just finished making a balloon dog for a child when the 3 p.m announcement came on. All eyes turned to watch our lovely Sakura speak to us. I'm sure it was just a propaganda piecing together, after all it was always the same thing, but I never said anything. It was better not to, anyways, everyone knew that we were constantly being watched. I wasn't about to get myself in trouble over something trivial. Besides it wasn't as if they were reading my thoughts, just yet. I didn't need someone prying into my dark secrets to try and figure out who I was. That was the point of Project Angel Wings right? There were ads for the project all over the city. It was an interesting concept, but one I wasn't completely sold on. I already knew my roots. I was who was, nothing more. Still, I couldn't help but wonder about it myself from time to time. My attention was drawn back to the screen where our lovely leader was talking still...

    A nine PM curfew eh? Well at least that meant I'd be able to get off work earlier now. That thought at least was somewhat comforting. As the announcement came on everyone froze and turned to watch, as if programmed almost, even the kids who were most rambunctious took the time to listen to what their leader had to say. It never occurred to me the absurdity of this. It still doesn't. This is just...normal.

    "Hey boys and girls! Do you know what time it is?! It's time for Angel Clown's entertainment block!"

    Well, that was my cue. I sighed as I tied the balloons I was carrying to a nearby cart and prepared to go on stage to do my part and entertain the children. That's what I did these days, entertained children so that I could stay alive in this miserable world. What a joke. It was almost ironic, considering my outlook on things. Still, I did, somewhere deep down, find some sort of strange gratification in this.

    "Today boys and girls, I'm going to teach you about the cycle of life and death!" Well, it was entertainment with some education. My boss was giving me one of his glances. I simply glanced back and continued. Here we go....


    I didn't bother to wash off the make-up from the day. I'd be taking a shower later anyways, and what did I care what other's thought? Slipping into my empty house I turned on only the needed lighting, leaving the rest in a dim darkness. For a single person, I had way to much space, but it was sometimes nice. A soft purr came from the shadows as my cat arrived, rubbing against my leg and demanding I give her all my attention.

    "Hello, Harley, did you miss me?" She was a tabby cat but reminded me greatly of a tiger, which was part of the reason I kept her and didn't just throw her back on the streets like most of the stray cats that came around. She was my miniature tiger. It worked out in my own little world. Getting her the usual bowl of milk and some diced up meat, I went about my daily 'home' routine. Check messages. Quick exercise. Prepare myself some dinner. Eat. Relax...

    Emerging from the shower, I stretched and let my hair fall loose as I towel dried it. Tossing the extra towel in the corner I headed out into the living room as I turned on the TV. What a day it had been! God I always loved the part of the day when I could just kick back and relax with a nice drink to calm my nerves. Yes, THAT was the life. Sitting on my couch wrapped in a towel with a mixed drink in hand, I turned to channel 34 and waited like so many other people in Iwaku probably were...
  5. ------Intercepted Transmission, Source: Lunar orbit over the planet------

    "Right, so here's the plan" the first figure says, his features conceaeled by power armor and a cloak made of human skin "The prison lays three layers into the undercity so drop pods are not an option" He stand beside a second figure, in equally imposing armor, both warriors bear the same markings on their armor. they stand over a table with blueprints of the city stretched over it. "We'll teleport in here," the first indicates a section of map, roughly a city block from the prison. "It'll be the dead of the night cycle so we'll make our way over by cover of darkness to the outer wall, here, and plant the charges. If they haven't noticed us at this point they will, We're using three linked melta-charges." The second gave a low chuckle of approval " once inside you're going to start shooting everything that points a gun at you, while I enter here," a Second point was indicated, though specifics of the map could not be made out from the angle the spy camera was at "and begin freeing the prisoners, from this point we have roughly three and a half minutes before backup arrives, fortunately we have a truck waiting for one level below the entry point, so We'll kick every one out of the building there, stash the prisoners inside and plant an automatic plasma cutter outside, from there it's a five minute firefight so bring extra ammunition. Once the hole is cut," the first moved the blueprints out of the way and placed a second down where it was. "We Shield the civillians with ourselves and lower thing into the back of the truck, then we follow and drive them out of town, sound good?"

    "Perfect, but we're going to have to move soon," the second pointed directly to the spy camera
    "What? Oh shit!"

    The second figure moves with surprising grace, given his armored bulk, the camera shakes

    ------Transmission Interrupted------

    The two re-enter reality only a hundred meters off of their original target, their blackened armor concealing them well in the minimal lighting of the night cycle, but heavy armored footfalls would give away their position early if they weren't careful, they managed to make their way to the prison's outer wall undetected. They'd hidden it behind storefronts, and disguised the rest as a major business tower. Malkierys placed the charges and took cover across the street. A moment later, the thunderous noise and violent tremors of the charge exploding dominated the area, all stealth was over, and Malkierys made a beeline for the dissidents block
  6. The cameras, set at four different points, all focused on one solitary desk, void of any nonsensical items. Simply one pen; a few sheets of paper with perhaps a script printed upon them; a glass of water, only half-way filled. There was a white noise of various reporters checking their instruments and talking to their various stations, still, Tegan was nowhere to be seen, five minutes into this address and there was there was hide nor hair of her. Then, at ten minutes past, in a flurry of sudden flashes from cameras, she was there.

    Sharp observing eyes and a slight curve to her lips that was neither a smile or a frown, she sat there, shuffling those papers and taking a small sip of water.

    Perhaps the slightest glace of disdain was spotted as she seemed to skim over the scripts- and then, her eyes turned up towards the camera in front of her. Those eyes held the look of a beast barely restrained, a look of dangerous determination, and, in some ways it was refreshing to see someone with a look that was undeniably their own, unchanged by the forces and wants of others. For ten seconds exactly, nothing was said, just that look.

    She blinked slowly and exhaled softly, then checked the papers one more time before setting them back down and loosely locking her hands together, fingers all tucked in, save for her index fingers, which pointed forward. If one were to look for it, they'd notice a small pin on the lapel of the dress jacket she wore. A white wing, with three feathers outstretched.

    And then it began.

    "Citizens of Iwaku, these times have been hard, we have heard your cries and we are working to change things for the better." Scripted, the words seemed scripted, and for a moment, it seemed even this strong woman has been overtaken. "These sheets of paper, truly don't convey what needs to be said, do they?" She asked abruptly with a mischievous quirk to her mouth. The white noise of reporters seemed to grow louder for a moment, and she waited for them to quiet. "You suffer, they know this, but in reality- they do nothing about it. They work on a project to fix things in time, while trying to halt the cycle. They're trying to pry the seams of the cycle apart, while trying to form it to the designs they want- and they're using every last one of us to do so. Project Angel Wing is a way that we're fighting back- trying to jolt the system back to life. We need your help, ladies and gentlemen. We're trying to help you ascend to the next place in the cycle... the person you will be- and keep you here for now until we can move this place forward. This world's on lock-down, they've managed to infect the cycle... We don't know how they did it, but we're trying to fix it. Get to-"

    And like that, the address cut to a static-y snow crash. The last glimpse of Tegan had been a smirk, a taunting glint to her eyes. She had to have known what was coming next.

    Baiting them.

    The last words... "get to..." She had been trying to say something, perhaps of particular importance. A place?

    The screen went to solid color blocks and then to another announcer, explaining that there had been technical difficulties, that they were working on it, they went on to say that the address would be continued at a later time, though the words didn't ring true. They said "Good night" and the station went back to whatever program was supposed to be playing on that channel.

    Tegan was as cryptic as ever, though there seemed to be real concern to her voice- but her lies and fallacies were so cleverly practiced, it was unknown what was the lie in all of this...
  7. I don't how much more I could take the sublte ringing I had been feeling when we first started had now turned into an all out migraine, we had been at this for little over thirty minutes now with now new memories. The only reason we were still going was bacause the fog seemed to getting thinner now, they were almost through soon I would be able to see what kind of person I had been. But the pain still persisted...if it hurt this much with the morphine already in then how bad would it be once the drugs had faded? But still I wanted to know more than anything, I wanted to know about my past lives.

    "I have something coming up on the charts." Said one of the labcoats, surprisingly there was a slight hint of excitement in his voice. After all this time not once had I'd seen any of them show even an ounce of emotion before, I honeslty started to think they were nothing more then robots. At first I didn't see anything just fog, what ever his machines were reading I couldn't see. I tried concentrating on the fog trying to push it away, soon the memory came into view for me as well. The labcoats scrambled to get the projector up and running this was the first new memory in weeks and they weren't about to let it slip away. The memory became clearer as I continued pushing the fog away, I was running in a forest in front of me was a strange man we were bothing running from who or what I couldn't tell. "WHat do you see?" one of the labcoats asked

    "I....I don't know.....I running there's one other person with me.....his name....his name is Luka...he's my friend." My head started hurting again, I let out a groan in frustration trying to push through it.

    "Why were you running?"

    "We had escaped from....some kind of facility......it had been disguised as a prison of some kind.....but it was something else.....it....it was a lab?...They...they were conducting illegal exeriments without the public knowing about it.....they injected us with some strange liquid.....I...I had been mutated into some kind of freak."

    The pain came again my head felt like it was about to explode, one of the labcoats began hooking another bag of morphine into me trying to help numb the pain long enough for me to say more. "We're almost done just a little more and we can stop." I took a few deep breaths trying to concentrate on the memory.

    "There had been a riot we tried to escape most of us were either caught or killed.....Luka and I were the only ones to make it out....we had no idea if our friends were alive or not...we only focused on getting away.....we were supposed to expose them...try and find someone on the outside who'd believe us and help stop the experiments.....the memory's slipping I can't see them anymore."

    With that my session concluded and the the machines were turned off, I was left on the morphine a bit longer until my head went away. By the time I was actually able to stand with out the room spining nine had already come and gone, one of the technicians helped me into a overnight room which I would be calling home until moring. It was plain white just like every other room, a cot lay to the far right it also had a small cupboard and sink just below the foot of the bed. What I assumed to be the door to a bathroom was positioned on the otherside of the room. "Great..." I mumbled before making my way to the cot.
  8. Musical Score: Otsegolectric - Static X

    Heavy footfalls, like the sound of someone walking with sledgehammers strapped under their shoes, alerted the guards to the prescense of another, and as their torches reached the entrace to the hallway the noises came from, a large, bloodspattered blackened blade, attached to two gigantic barrels emerged from the opening, followed by the rest of the weapon, and its owner.

    'Amputator shells are one of the rarities among all but gang warfare, considering their use is restricted to Autorifles, Autopistols and the like, of course the great shame of this is that these shells, filled with explosive micro-shrapnel, are designed to make an autopistol, even at a simple .38 calibre, capable of ripping off limbs like an astartes bolt pistol, now, when i hear that a Traitor Astartes is unning amok in our segmentum with an AUTOCANNON loaded with such shells, i fear very little in the way of 41st milennium personal protective equipment is going to stop such a juggernaught' - Inquisitor Fulkmenn (later found torn to ribbons by high calibre explosive weapons fire)

    Raum smiled as he depressed the Reaper Autocannons trigger and the twin belts running from a hopper on his backpack to the feeding ports of the collossal, usually terminator armor restricted weapon (and even then because only they could carry it and fire reliably), Amputator shells loaded into the chamber and as the gun roared its titanic, ear shattering bellow of rage and hatred, the Recoil Bafflers mounted to the weapon absorbed what Raum's power armor could not in the way of recoil, and the Suspensor system underneath the weapon made it feel almost as light as a bolter.

    The Prison guards, all seven men, were torn to bloody gibbets in seconds, their weapons not even out of their holsters.
    More flooded into the Chamber and Raum's eyes shone with malicious and avaricious joy
    "Know this!" he screamed, depressing the trigger again, marching towards his victims as the reaper spat out shell casings in a near constant stream
    "What will come to pass is no longer war! It is endless sacrifice in His name. Blood for the Dark Gods... let the universe drown in it!" he screamed as shells tore into the wall behind the now massacred reinforcements, one hit a guard rounding the corner, and Raum heard the others cry out in terror and begin to flee, and his grin widened, he released the trigger and broke out into a jog, his pace easily that of the guards, even with the heavy weapon in his hands.

    He rounded the corner, his trigger finger tensed, and men died by the score. it was Raum's sole pleasure in life, to strike out at the chaff, to break all those who had betrayed him, to shatter the servants of the golden throne and break their armies in a hail of weapons fire, though the rush of charging from the skies with bolter and chainsword were also appealing, it was this slaughter that was like an opiate for the chaos space marine, he NEEDED the rush, the feeling of power almost as much as a mortal desires sustenance.

    As Raum made his way in the opposite direction to the Dissidents block, heading towards the Prison control room, he activated his vox bead with a snort of amusement as he skewered a Guard on the serrated blade beneath the Reaper's barrels
    "These weaklings could not even stop an attack by the cursed Emperor's imperial guard, let alone those such as we, I approach the Control room Brother" Raum begain to Laugh as he heard the 'Aff' response of Malkierys, the laugh turning to a cackle as he saw the armored door of the Control room, the chaos marine braced his feet and directed the Reapers barrels directly at the locking mechanism of the door, thumbing the feed selection switch from 'prim' to 'sec', the shells in his feed Now an autocannon Variant of the Tempest Bolt Shell, that is to say, rather than a mass reactive explosive at the centre of the the armor piercing round, A Tempest shell features a plasma charge at its centre, liquifying metallic targets, vaporizing biological targets.

    As his manic laughter reached a crecendo, Raum's trigger finger tightened and the Reaper spat out its deadly payload by the dozen, for six full second, shell after shell after shell, each the size of strong man's bicep, pounded the steel door before detonating in a blinding flash of plasma.

    When the Traitor Astartes released the trigger and flicked the Round Selector back to primaris, he strode the the now wide open entrance to the control room, the ten inch thick blast door now a puddle of molten metal.
    As he strode through the doorway, skewering one technician to a wall with the Reaper before disconnecting the Ammunition pack at his back, the runes etched into his armor blazed with unholy fire as Raum Valafar, Chosen of the Dark Gods, Warrior of a thousand Wolds set the thick, gaultleted fingers of his right hand to the keyboard, the skewered technician's memories of passwords and access procedures entered his mind, even as his left hand darted out to rip the secnd technician out of hiding
    "All power demands sacrifice... and pain. The universe rewards those willing to spill their life's blood for the promise of power." he said as he crushed the mans throat, from addams apple through to the front of his spine, the flesh a torn red ruin, blood spattering the traitors armor as he entered the final password to open all cells'
    "This is our galaxy. Ours to corrupt. Ours to enslave. The gods will not be denied their prize" he muttered, before Voxing Malkierys to inform him it was done.
  9. Malkierys Slammed into the Door of the maximum security ward with all the force that an airborne space marine in power armor can give, that is to say, he left a crater in the area where the doors met before the Bars behind gave way and let him through. He rolled, stood, and found no less than a dozen guards, his first though was to 'Bless' them with one of his lord's many diseases, but he couldn't risk exposure to the prisoners. Instead he drew his twin bolt pistols, each with a serrated blade the size of a human's forearm and dual magazine feeds, and fired.

    now to say a bolt shell was a merciless form of ammunition would be accurate, but the Metal Storm rounds that Malkierys used, were truly insidious, each shell was scored in a grid atteren to fragment when it's proximity core detonated. The effect was like a grenade in miniature and they made short work of the guards, armored more for the shivs and clubs the prisoners would use, than such a weapon. Soon Malik stood empty in the Ward's main block, He waited a few moments before Raum's voice came over the Vox, Telling him the Block had been opened. The doors opened soon after, and vomited forth their confused and frightened human cargo.

    "There is no time to Explain, I am Malkierys Plague-River, Leader of the Resistance of Iwaku, and today I will be freeing you." He stated, his voice powerful and commanding

    "But why?" One of the prisoners asked in respose

    "This government wants you silenced because you spoke out against them, now head out into the main yard. You'll find my comrade in arms there waiting, I have further business to attend in this cell-block"

    Malik stomped off, heavy ceramite boots thundering in the concrete structure. He navigated swiftly through the maze of passageways beneath the prison, maintaining his bearing through paths memorized the night before.Though his path wasn't entirely unobstructed by guards, he easily made short work of them, and he soon found his destination. A massive complex beneath, entirely self contained, the structure served to house only a single stasis pod, which Malik unhooked and towed with him outside.

    He exited the Maximum security ward, with stasis pod on back and political prisoners in tow. "The Chrono Starts now brother, make haste" He voxed to Raum, as he led the prisoners outside the walls and to their first taste of freedom.
  10. I sat there, watching the TV, and when it cut away, one of my hands lifted to feel at the ports. I checked on the kids, and they were still sleeping soundly.

    I dragged myself to the bathroom, and locked myself into the bathroom...


    The eyes that stared back at me where my own, but the memory... no... the premonition of others saw out from my own...


    I had to take a walk. Fuck the damned curfew, I needed this- I needed to get some air. I needed help... I needed something, but I couldn't figure it out... my hands felt empty, grabbing at nothing but air... I rushed out of the bathroom and grabbed my keys to the place, and started the process of unlocking the six locks so I could get out - all of them were out of reach of the kids- don't want them getting into trouble while I'm gone- and finally flung open the door, stalked outside and started re-locking the door before continuing on. A cold wind was blowing through the streets, and I was thankful that I had a jacket on.

    With no direction planned, I walked- hands shoved into my pockets, head held high and a smile for every camera and scanner I spotted. I knew I'd be tracked- the streets were pretty much empty, they could easily focus on the one person that was walking around. My feet took me to a place I often brought the kids for some fun... that woman... the look in her eyes... perhaps I should find her and talk to her? I removed my hands from my pockets, in my right hand- a small phone. I looked up the woman's address. Kate.... that was her name, I knew that had to be it. I found the address easily enough, but it was ten minutes away by car... which meant I'd have a bit of traveling to do on foot. I didn't have any transport- most of what my kids and I needed was nearby.... I started to follow the directions, and looked up only to see a few cameras following my movements and I waved at them with a smile.

    I stowed the phone back into my pocket once I had the directions down, and started to jog towards my destination.

    I caught my breath halfway and checked my directions, and then continued. It was only thirty or forty minutes after that announcement, and I was sure that Kate might be a little confused about my appearance, but I needed this...

    I was at the house and I knocked, quietly. Then I knocked again, a bit louder and shoved my hands back into my pockets, the chill of the wind finding a resting place in my fingertips.
  11. It gets cold at night. People that have a place to live don't understand that quite so well.

    Pulling my coat around me I tried to hide from the wind that blew down the street. I didn't much care for living like this, but that accursed "Angel Wing" project had changed how I could live. I'd lost another job just this morning, I'd almost had enough to at least make a down payment on a new home, but I'd had another 'episode'.

    I never know what to make of these episodes, they always seem a bit disjointed. This last one had me sitting in a conversation between two men, a blind man, dressed simply in clothing with a reddish tint to them. The man across from him was dressed similarly, but I could tell that they were there out of obligation. Most of the conversation excluded me, I can't read lips. I did get fragments of the last few sentences, something about the blind man discarding his soul.

    I hate these things.

    'Episodes', I love how people label things like that. From what I've heard most people see things that are from the 'past' when they go to the facility, when they leave they aren't bothered by them. I don't know why, but I am, and when they show up, things can get interesting. I read an article once about a phenomena called a 'poltergeist' that caused things to move around, act all scary. Well, that's what happens around me when the visions show up, makes people get rid of me pretty quick.

    Well, the powers that be didn't seem to care for me much. "Angel Wing" first, and now some forsaken curfew that was going to have the police after me before the night was over. Unless of course I could find a place to stay for the duration, weren't too many places like that around really.

    Sighing, I picked myself up from where I had been sitting. I dusted off my coat, heading down the road. With any luck I might find at least a nook or cranny to hide away in, given the time it was and that blasted curfew I couldn't rely on pity from strangers to get me through.

    Well, as the saying goes, "When it rains it pours".
  12. Cackling, manic laughter, thunderous weapons fire and the screams of dying men, punctuated only by the pounding of massive boots on concrete marked Raum's passage towards the marked exfil point, and as the prisoners and Malik looked passed the now full trucks to the entrance doors, the doors swung open, Raum walking backwards, his reaper autocannon maiming and killing the guards that had thought to stop their escape.

    As the trucks moved out, Malik on the first truck, Raum on the rear, the five trucks smashed through a police blockade, Malik's bolter and the reaper tore the vehicles and their occupants apart, Raum's manic, hate filled laughter and screamed taunts ringing out over the weapons fire as the trucks rumbled forwards, a swirling riot of colur opening up before the lead truck.
    As Raum's truck passed through, the only trace of their passage was a litter of shells that abruptly stopped where the portal had been moments before, and the burning metallic wreckage of the police blockade.

    The reaction force that arrived to secure the prison scant minutes later found the charnel house left in the traitors wake.
  13. Like everyone else in the great city of Iwaku, I sat dutifully and watched the announcement given by the elusive Tegan. It was an interesting speech and one that certainly left the ending up to the imagination. I had sat through it wrapped in only my towel with my drinks lowly disappearing with each line given by Tegan. The words she spoke and the way she spoke them, I found myself locked and intrigued. There was more to this message, there had to be. Then again, there always was. A sigh escaped my lips at the end of it as the channel returned to what was original scheduled for airing. I switched the TV off, not wanting to listen to any more political news, and set my empty glass on the kitchen counter as I sauntered back to my room and slipped out of my towel into more comfortable clothing.

    Combing out my mostly dried hair I looked at myself in the mirror. My skin was pale, and my eyes looked tired. Smoothing out my short black silk nightgown I pondered about myself a moment before attempting a genuine smile. My reflection looked back at me with more of a crooked grin that might be considered manical to some. The grin faded as I sighed. No one could say I didn't try. Something so simple as a smile, I just couldn't bring myself to produce one. It was strange, perhaps, but I simply couldn't. I shook my head some with a yawn as I returned to the kitchen to fix myself another drink. This time it was going to be stronger. I had to prepare myself for tomorrow anyways, another long work day in the entertainment business.

    I'd barely had time to take a sip of my drink when I heard a knocking at the door. Now who the hell could that be at this hour? Not that it was late, but it was past curfew. Few would risk the penalties of breaking a curfew in Iwaku. I wasn't expecting anyone and no one had called me. Or I didn't hear my phone ring. Finding my phone I checked to make sure, and I had no missed calls. The knocking grew louder as I sighed, "Coming!" I called as I hurried toward the door without spilling a drop of my precious drink. Working at the many locks (had to be safe in these times) I kept the chain lock attached as I opened the door to peek out, "Can I help you?" I said before I could get a good glimpse of the person. It was then I saw TK standing there and looking rather anxious.

    Now I wouldn't say I was GOOD friends with her, but we were certainly well acquainted at this point, since she brought the orphans she took care of to the Happy's. Slightly surprised to see her I quickly shut the door and undid the chain lock as well so I could fully open my place up to her, "Uh, hi. Trance Kitsune right? What can I do for you?" I leaned on my doorframe and took a sip of my drink while I waited for my answer.
  14. There was the harsh sound of metal being fused to metal, the bright blue light of electricity as the torch in her hand burned, the sparks leaping for her face to singe her skin and hair, foiled by the heavy mask. A smirk pulled across her lips, laughing lightly at the thoughts that flitted through her mind. It was small things like this that got her through her days, monotonous tasks of repair and replace. If the machines changed, she likely wouldn't be so bored. But with fixing the same machine everyday, replacing the same parts. She hated this. The never changing routine. The boredom was what had driven her to join the Angel...something or other project. Honestly, she was dreading the day that it was her turn. She hadn't heard any testimonies from people who had gone. All she knew was the propaganda that played on the airways. The information everyone knew, and no one believed.

    She killed her torch, setting it aside to wait for the next cart, but was stopped by a hand on her shoulder. Turning, Lulu lifted the mask to gaze upon the face of her boss, lined and aged far more than it should have been.
    "...I will never get used to you as a girl, Lucian." He mumbled, shaking his head. She just grinned, standing up to meet through. "Ah ah ah, its Lulu, for the moment." She corrected gently, rolling her eyes at his scowl. "You're shifts over. No no, put that down. I'll clean up." Lulu gave the man a skeptical look, setting down the torch she had been gathering up. "If you don't get moving, you're not going to make it home before curfew." A tight knot formed in the woman's stomach, suddenly realizing how late it truly was. Not late enough for the curfew to be in effect, but still fairly late. Her boss had a wicked smile on his face. "You ass! My shift was over an hour go!" Lulu was scrambling off the platform, fingers wrapping around her coat as she ran out.

    "Yeah! You're not getting extra pay for that hour either!"

    There was the rhythmic beating of her feet against ground, pulling her coat together around her body. That was one thing she missed about her masculinity, her ability to stay a constant temperature. She was always either too hot or too cold in this form. Still, better to deal with a difficult body than to go through the pain to change it. Eyes glanced sideways towards one of the screens they had positioned around the city. Just to make sure your head was always full of their message. She paused in her walking, seeing Tegan appear, powerful, filling the screen with her presence. It must have been time for her message. Lulu turned to face the screen fully, squashing the hope that maybe this wasn't a propaganda message. Her words sounded scripted. The red head, growing tired, turned to leave, when Tegan's words... changed, catching her attention again. Project Angel Wing was... a way of fighting back? Fighting back against those who want to halt the cycle?

    The message was cut short, ending before Tegan could finish. Lulu pressed her hands against the screen. No, that couldn't be the end of it. Where were they meant to get to? Realizing how she must look, Lulu took a step back, frowning. She shouldn't have been taking so much interest in a broadcast. Especially out in a public place. There was a deep knot forming in her stomach, glancing around.
    "I... need to get home." She mumbled to herself, returning to her walk, though at a much brisker pace.
  15. I felt dizzy as I walked down the street, stumbling slightly as another vision appeared.

    A man stood in a laboratory, but the walls were all glass. Outside was the surface of the moon. The man let out a maniacal laugh as he finished something on a surgical table, a cloaked figure of some kind.

    Just as quickly as it appeared, the vision disappeared. I looked around, nothing seemed to have moved this time, that was fortunate, I didn't want anyone to get hurt. I chuckled at that thought, no one getting hurt, it seemed a little late for that with the "Angel Wing" project going on.

    I had to wonder how many more lives were being ruined by that damnable wild goose chase.

    Rounding a corner, I spied a woman with a red left eye walking toward me, another person out this late wasn't exactly common, even less so now that the curfew was coming up. 'Beggars can't be choosers' they tell me, might as well see if she might help me.

    Closing the distance between us a buzzing comes into my head. I feel the wind intensify around me, at least, I'd think it was if it weren't for all the weird happenings around me lately. I hear indistinct voices in it, all I can make out is a name 'Lulu'.

    As I get close enough to talk easily, I stop. "Excuse me miss, could you perhaps help me? I'm needing a place to spend a night or two through this curfew. Anything would be helpful at this point." I direct at Lulu. Will she help? I don't know, I'm a ragged stranger on a street corner at night, I'll be lucky if she just doesn't run off.
  16. I can't say it was the best sleep I ever had, in fact it was one of the worst I'd experienced. The cot was incredibly stiff and the pillow hardly offered any padding it took me a few hours but I was finally able to sleep after tossing and turning. The dream itself was also horrible after images of my recently unlocked memories still plagued my mind, the gruesome experiments my past self had been put through played over and over like a broken record. There were a few new additions as well, it was more of Luka and I running we were running up the side of a large cervice when we were ambushed. The men who had been after us opened fire, with out a second thought I pushed Luka into the crevice before jumping in myself. We were soon plunged in darkness as the walls closed in around us blotting out the sun.

  17. Jung Hae Ra. That was her name. It meant something like gardening or flowers. She hated it. Her parents had never taken the time to give her an english name and now, with her alias as LoveSPARK, Hae Ra no longer cared about what people thought of her name. Sure it was Korean, and to most ears strange, but people on the street wouldn't point and say "Look Hae Ra!", they would say, "It's LoveSpark!" And when she heard it, she loved it. An uncommon stage name it was, giving her all the more popularity.

    She was leaving the building now, having deposited the usb into the small mailbox as directed by text messages. It was the recording for the next broadcast. The previous one went well, her mysterious employer texted, except Sakura's face looked a bit tired. A little make up would do the trick, Hae Ra noted, perhaps even better lighting. She would have to come up with a way to make it so that the leader wasn't suspicious. They were already filming in secret.

    From her mental state, though, it's difficult to say whether she realizes or not. She must be really stupid or completely mad.

    Hae Ra didn't consider Sakura to be any kind of a leader. She was obviously a figurehead. And the cutesy giggling Sakura they depicted on the broadcast was a lie, too. In a way, she felt like that was the only thing they had in common, the Leader and her, the fact that they were living double lives. Only Sakura was half comatose. She'd heard rumors about it, but now she could confirm it with her own eyes. The girl probably lost a couple of brain cells or was brainwashed. Hae Ra thought it was absolutely hilarious that their leader was a little girl with broken head. No wonder people were living their lives quietly, confined to the ridiculous system of careers.

    Walking quickly, with a hood over her head, Hae Ra hurried home to her apartment, seeing no need to stop and watch the broadcasts in shop windows.

  18. Cold. So very very cold. She looked up at the ceiling, past the pink lace canopy hanging above her. The colors morphed from a pink to a purple, swirling blues and greens, and she felt like the world was spinning. She lay straight on her sheets, shivering. Her arms slipped above the covers, clutching the sheets in clenched fists. After her chat with LoveSPARK, she felt uneasy. She thought she'd take a nap, but tnow, she wasn't so sure it was a good idea. She opened her mouth to call out to one of the workers in the corridor for help, surprised a the weak squeak that came out of her throat. Help... Help me...

    'They' had slipped something into her tea. Although she was already quite lifeless, they still worried she might one day see a broadcast and panic at the realization of it being lies. The fact that she was Leader, they said, was only an honorary title. The people loved her. All she had to do was smile at them, her council would take care of the rest. Although they kept telling her this and she seemed quite submissive enough, the faction worried. They worried that if they didn't keep her drugged and weak, she would find the truth and muster the strength to overpower their control.

    She reached up to touch her own forehead, beads of sweat rolled down the sides of her head. She was losing consciousness. Struggling to stay awake, she tried to sit up. Instead, she fell back, fluttering the lace canopy around her before falling into slumber.

  19. "Ladies and Gentleman," Malik announced over the Vox-Caster's installed within the trucks, "In a few moments you'll be dropped off at a series of different safehouses, I suggest you stay there for roughly twenty four ours and leave at separate times, whatever plans of vengeance you had for our 'Beloved' government can wait that long I assure you." He killed the Vox Caster, and flicked a switch on the environmental controls for a moment. What he released was an insidious disease agent of his design, a two part bacterium/virus combination. The first half was what he just gave to his passengers, A benign bacteria that resides within the lungs and spreads through the air from person to person, though it does take some time to spread from person to person. He'd planned on the infection spreading through the dissidents and revolutionaries hiding within the city, as well as through the police and civil servants via arrest or infiltration on part of the resistance.

    He kept the second half, a virus that specifically targeted the bacteria cells he'd just implanted, in specially loaded blight grenades. The virus carried mutagenic DNA, that when inhaled and brought into contact with the bacterium, turned it into a fast acting combination of Dysentery and Tuberculosis. Effectively ripping the victims lungs apart from within their chest. Given this information, and even the false promise of a cure, the resistance might have carried this weapon within them of their own free will, however Malik only trusted Raum with this plan, and so kept the information secret.

    And that was precisely why he loved being a Servant of the

    "And now brother," He said to Raum in the Cab of their truck, separated from the civilians in the back, "We add a lethal Bio-Weapon to our arsenal."

    The rest of the drive was un-remarkable, the convoy split and went their various ways. Once they hit a police roadblock, but the forged paperwork they had fooled the police and they were waved through.

    After arriving at their primary safe-house, Raum and Malik were standing over an unconscious man lying in front of the Warp Portal.
  20. I cannot form any concrete description of what happened to me - it was impossible to describe. All I can say is that in my current state I had been unable to resist its power, to resume my own course. Perhaps when I was still a living god I would have been able to break its pull on me and resume on my path but the power consumed when I opened the portal had been too great and I was now quite ... Powerless, compared to what I had been. Space warped around me, and the world became far too confusing to behold. Things were beginning to escalate into more and more dimensions - constantly, rapidly changing, unable to take form in this reality and I ...

    I blacked out.

    I dreamt of green, lush fields. Fertile lands where the wind blew and the sun shone bright. There was no fighting. Everything was ... Serene. Everyone lived in peace.

    And then it all vanished. Initially I had thought that it could not be true - but then, slowly, slowly, I got used to it and I began to believe in it.

    The world that replaced it was the direct opposite; the black to its white, the darkness to its light, the Moriarty to its Holmes. A world that was burning, dying. Beasts of every imaginable, and some unimaginable form swarmed humanity. Out for nothing but blood, to kill for the sake of killing. They weren't there to conquer, but merely there to destroy. They wanted to destroy life, and then each other.

    I woke up with a start.

    I found myself in a nicely decorated place. My head was still spinning so I couldn't make out any specifics. But it was nice. Lots of white, brown, beige ... Homey colours.

    And then I saw the two men. Years of experience in combat kicked in, and adrenaline surged through my veins like wildfire immediately chasing away the nausea and the discomfort brought about by having my own ass yanked out of space and reality.

    "Who the fuck are you two?" I asked, my nunchuks having already been warped into my hands with two casual flicks of my wrists. I was facing them with my side to minimise the surface area of which they could aim at, my feet planted apart for balance. One hand was wielding one nunchuk and spinning them in front of me while my other hand held the other nunchuk near my cranium, the loose end of it drooping down.
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