The Evrensel Conflict- Chapter 3,Mission 2: The Hijacking

"Fall back? Why would we fall back? They're coming right to us! That's exactly where I want them!" replied Lavaetain. She had stayed quiet so far for two good reasons. The first was that her flame summons were all she really NEEDED right now to actually fight. Their weapons seemed to be super-heated plasma which meant they were completely ineffective against her armor. The droids could have shot at her until she had fallen asleep and not left a mark on her. Sure, they could bash her if they got close, but she knew they had another weakness.

They didn't have bloody magic shields on even the most basic of levels. She felt certain that the shields of the bug droids would have been impressive to most people trying to get through them. That the thick armor of the tank would be threatening to most. She had fought tanked before. These droids were nothing. She had been gathered her magic, her focus, and she was ready to unleash it. Her conjurations vanished away as she snapped her fingers and a series of explosions rippled throughout the enemy ranks.

These weren't simple explosions flung hap-hazardly. No. Just the opposite. They were targeted. Their point of origination WITHIN the area covered by the droids shields. Effectively turning their own shields against them as explosive bubbles. And she had plenty of magic to spare to deal with them. The same for the tank which not only would likely immolate any crew inside but, if any did survive, they would find themselves without oxygen to breath from the fire. A death sentence either way.

"I am the eternal flame of the Emperors Will! The Heroine of Fire! Come at me and be consumed!" she said defiantly as she snapped her fingers and a blazing wall of fire appeared between the retreating group and approaching foes. With that done she turned to fall back, though she was clearly unafraid of the foes approaching.
 
MISSION 2 GM POST

Abby Dee/Courier Six - Character Sheet


"Alright, now try not to go in guns blazing everybody. Might talk some over to the right side." Harold uses his passcode to open the doors into the hangar once it appears all are ready. They slide open to reveal an immense cavern made into a hangar with a lattice of steel beams and bright lights. Before them was the vessel they had come for: A dull grey dagger-shaped corvette that was one hundred and fifty meters long from the engines to the tip. Beyond the ship is a tunnel lit by smaller lights that goes for miles up a steady incline.

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To the far right of the cavern from where they enter are two smaller vessels.

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Next to these vessels is an elevator shaft that has just unloaded a man pushing a repulsor cart of supply crates before being called back up. A supply elevator.

To the left is another set of doors and large rectangular windows showing a room full of computers and unarmed personnel who are working at their stations feverishly.

Crews in jumpsuits, who looked to be in the midst of guiding carts of supplies to and up the large boarding ramp of the ship when the doors opened, were huddled around each other in a larger group, as at least a dozen soldiers had taken cover behind the crates of supplies, cylinders, and replacement parts. They see the new arrivals, at first look thankful to see Harold and his flight crew, but their eyes widen with horror at the entourage behind them. There are a few scattered soldiers mixed in with the loading crew who raise their weapons.

“Hold on! Don’t shoot!” The flight crew spread out to mostly cover the Scattered behind themselves. The soldiers pause and the others freeze in place.

“Commander Harold, lay down your arms, and you and your crew will be unharmed!” A soldier shouted out from behind cover.

“There’s some kind of coup going on! From what I understand, Operation Exodus is being hijacked by some rogues from the government. Now my crew and I are the only ones trained and qualified to pilot The Requiem out of here, and we’re still going with the original operation. If any of you are any kind of decent, you’ll join us and maintain the original mis--” Harold was cut off when blood suddenly shot out from his eye socket. A bullet had gone through the back of his head from behind the doors, and who should be standing there; holding the smoking gun?

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Emma quickly tried to attack back, her eyes growing wide with rage over what this bastard did, but as she raised her arm, the same intense headache and feeling of nausea overcame her as it did before, as an ear-piercing noise was made that caused her immense pain. The same pain she felt when they were found out. She screamed out in pain and collapsed to her knees, holding her hands over her ears to try and block out the noise. Spotlights overhead turned on, blinding the whole group, as above them on the railings overhead, ones used to fix the outer shell of the ship, had dozens more soldiers aiming at them.

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Five mechs also dropped down, causing the ground to shake when they landed.

The group was outnumbered, and outgunned, and out in the open with no cover, as behind them more droids approached. “ON THE GROUND!” Michael shouted to the whole group, as the soldiers walked up to them from behind; their weapons aimed at everyone’s head, while the mechs focused on Layyel in case he tried to charge them. Because Michael is a prick, he did a prick move by smashing the butt of his pistol into Emma’s head, not to knock her out, but to simply inflict pain.

“Fucking yella belly! Going to make you eat that pistol next chance I get!” Abby yells at Michael looking down at Emma then back up at him. A soldier takes her Automatic Rifle from her hands before she could even try something foolish with her last rounds of ammo. The flight crew don’t fight when their pod weapons are taken; the sudden death of Commander Harold has had a profound effect on them. They now look to Markha, to Captain Markha, for guidance even as they are held at many gunpoints.

Michael aimed that pistol right at Abby’s head, putting the barrel between her eyes. “You’ll be eating fucking lead in a second.” He yelled back.

“Then do it you yella belly. You’re all talk and cheap shots.” Abby spits back unflinching even with the gun at the center of her face. No amount of luck would allow her to survive this one.

Alec, in a moment of panic, tried rushing Michael to at least point the gun away from the courier, only to have both his arms grabbed by soldiers, who threw him down to the ground on his face. A third quickly came in and took his weapons away, and patted him down for any more. “I know you two,” Michael realized. “I recognize some of you, you fuckers were at my prison! Cause of you, last two weeks of my life have been a living hell!”

“Oh, shame we didn’t make it worse.” Alec struggled to say on the ground, with half his face pressed against a metal floor, the other half with a man’s elbow pushing against his temple.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ enjoy watching you all die.” Michael told them all, cocking the hammer of his gun back to start with Abby. However,

“Enough!” Another voice shouted out. From behind them, where the droids were, a man walked between them, dressed in black attire, and holding his hands out like a priest in sermon. It was Kane. Emma would recognize him.

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She wouldn’t recognize the symbol on his outfit, but once she saw it, she realized the other soldiers had them as well on their uniforms. Every one of them.

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“Lay your hands off them.” He said to Michael and his men in a soft and comforting voice. While looking angered by it, Michael withdrew his weapon without question, and the soldiers let go of Alec, although everyone’s weapons were still taken. “I apologize for Michael’s behavior, he does not act on my behalf. He needs to be taught a severe lesson over such ruthless aggression.” He said, looking over his shoulder to Michael with an angry glare. “I also do not wish blood to be shed here. Enough has already been spilt, and none of you deserve to die so far from your homes without any knowledge of why you were all sent here.” Kane explained.

“So you are scattered like us.” Alec said, moving over to sit on the floor while he rubbed his temple.

“Indeed I am. Like you, I was brought here to this place without any rhyme or reason, and forced to hide away by this version of humanity. One that fears us irrationally, all because they believe us culprits behind their misery. But we know the truth. The green light, and the ‘false gods.’”

“How… do you--”

“You think ‘Sheo’ was the first to visit you?” The mad god they had met before meeting Emma, he had told them about ‘false gods’ that had brought them here, and how there were bigger things at stake than this world. “This world is infested with unnatural energy and spirits. Demons haunt baron cities, gates to other planes of existence have opened up. Even that creature here,” he pointed to Reegan, “we have seen its kind before. Its signature matches the one we found when that madman tried entering this world. Its beings like him why this world is in such a state. He may talk of false gods, yet he plays with powers he wields without thought. The same that holds true to Miss Frost here.” He said of Emma, looking down at her.

“She promised you a way off this planet. She promised that she would look out for the lower classes of this world. To tug at your heart strings and make herself sympathetic to a dead cause. She never believed in this planet, she only wished to escape it. She used her powers to manipulate you all into coming here so she could return to her world, just as she used her powers to gain control over these pilots, and climb the ranks of this world’s government.” He exclaimed. “Those like her and this ‘Sheogorath’ are why these people fear us. Using their powers to manipulate the weak for their own benefit. Make civilization playgrounds for their own twisted fun. They have no care for you, only themselves. But, I don’t blame you for what you’ve done. This world has treated us poorly, and allies are in short demand. It’s why I have spent so long working my way through it to this point. To finally leave all this behind. To return to a life we desperately wish to live in again. And I give you my word, if you join me, we can all go back. And find those who made us go through this hell, and give them the punishment they deserve!”

“Liar!” Emma dares to yell from the floor. The woman gets her orientation back, but still looks affected by whatever device Kane had used against her. She glares up at him.

“Kane is the one who has claimed the most power here. You can see it for yourself. And he has made it on the backs, and the blood, sweat and tears of the true common person trying to make some kind of life on this world.” Emma looks to her allies. “It’s his will that bends the government to abuse them! Makes them into criminals, into the hunted. He is only capable of lies or violence. Side with him and you will see: he will take this ship for himself and his army, forsaking even the corrupt politicians he had promised would be spared while they left the commoners to wither and die.This ship, The Requiem, as much as The Doctor and I can theorize, is capable of trans-universal travel. Look what he has done with the remaining resources of a dying nation, and ask yourself if you think he can be trusted with more in many other universes, with your own home.”

With that, the floor was, for all intents and purposes, open for what passes for debate in this situation. Though Kane looks on as if confident he has swayed some of them with his longer and more robust speech.
 
The Force, is not with Markha in the moment she wanted a mighty push to throttle droids and soldiers against each other into the far wall. Her Master had demonstrated how a Jedi could throw even the formidable Destroyer Droid away with The Force.

Instead of being thrown, the droids explode inside their own shields from the power of Lavaetin. The moment before this happened, she heard Emma's voice again calling for a retreat. The enemy before them was mostly obliterated by the last attack, but if their leader was ordering a retreat, who was she to argue they push forward?

Since when had her command experience been correct?

"Layyel! Come along! You're hurt!" Markha joins Kassandra in ushering their large friend to fall back as well, lightsaber at the ready to deflect anything that would try to do him more harm. It's the most useful thing she feels she can do now.

They fall back and follow the team that now considers her Captain, but the Zeltron stays back, covering their rear with her lightsaber humming at the ready. She wishes they had some time, any time, for her to stop and meditate. She had thought the time prior to the mission had been adequate to reconnect with The Force. But it was evident now that was inadequate. She was inadequate. Her skills with her lightsaber and piloting would be her only contributions until she could regain her connection to The Force.

But it had been there earlier. That she was certain about. She had felt it lift her lightsaber and bring it to her hand. What had happened?

Was it that trap? The one that had disabled Miss Frost and affected the tree being, but her not as much. It had felt at most like a fleeting headache. Had she retreated from The Force to protect herself on reflex?

Too many questions, and they were not in a position to give her time to meditate on them. The doors to the hangar open before them. Markha steps beside Commander Harold. She had been instated as their Captain after all. She thinks about using her natural abilities to calm everyone down while Harold talks to them.

Maybe it would have worked. If there had been more time, or if she had foreseen the seconds prior to Harold being shot in the head from the back. Markha watches his body fall. Sees the crew he had been training with, formed bonds with, falter in shock and despair as the hangar is suddenly filled with danger at all angles. Soldiers, enormous droids, surrounding them all.

How could she not have foreseen this? Was her connection truly gone?

To her this is an evident truth. She was powerless to stop this from happening. She is powerless to stop a soldier from taking the lightsaber from her limp hands unaware she had deactivated it in surrender.

Markha watches the man who had shot Harold threaten them all. She watches their leader try to turn them against Miss Frost as if he were the real hero here. She also sees the rest of the flight crew look to her for guidance and hope. Listening to him, Markha feels anger bubble up in her gut and out from her heart.

The Dark Side is the path of least resistance to The Force. Anger, fear, are natural emotions used to tap into its power.” She remembers her Master telling her.

“The Sith were unbridled emotion and wild power. It can take only a day for one to achieve great strength in The Force when they use their passion to bend it to their will.”


In these moments, Markha hated this Michael, hated Kane.

But most of all, she hated herself for being so weak she could do nothing.

Now was not a time for patience and trust in The Force. Right now they needed swift and brutal action or they would all die.

A mighty animalistic scream comes out of Markha as she raises one hand high and the other at Kane and Michael. Her pink skin turns deep red and her eyes burn orange. With a loud hiss-crackle, blue lightning erupts from her fingertips. It arcs through air and metal towards those she hates with all her being in the moment. To be touched by this lightning, one feels pain not only in their whole body, but their very being as the hate which generated it assaults their essence.
 
The world tumbled and spun as the worms slowed their work, calming Layyel's bloodlust and leaving him in confusion. The shapes and sounds of reality were muddled by the twitching in his collapsed skull and the only thing that made sense was the distinct sound of his name coming from two familiar shapes. With some difficulty, Layyel followed them, grabbing his sword along the way.

As they walked, Layyel clutched at his head, trying to will his head to stop twitching and to slow down the wriggling in his spine.

He was nearly about to succeed the moment they entered the hanger. That was before the crack of thunder resounded from behind them and a hot piercing light burnt his retinas, bringing the wriggling back to his mind with force.

As the tinies panicked and things got worse, so too did the effects of Layyel's mutations begin to intensify. Layyel clutched at his head harder and he hunched over as the worms and glands in his body that were earlier in his control began to go erratic, making the world flash and change rapidly in his eyes as memories of the past became one with the present.

He breathed out a whine of pain as it happened, his fingers digging deeper into his helmet as he clutched harder and harder trying to concentrate, to forget, anything to distract him from the pain in his head.

He finally broke as Markha's scream pierced through his mind, registering not as a scream of anger but of those from the cave. A scream of fear and sorrow as his friends died around him, brought low by an ambush that should not have been.

Screaming in pure fear and panic, Layyel charged the closest thing near him and struck, his sword cutting clean through one of the strange armors that the enemy had brought with them. All around him, the cultists raised their esoteric weaponry and bloodied tools to bring death and pain. Alongside them, their strange constructs opened fire upon him with fay projectiles that came from their wrists.

Unheeding of his mounting wounds, Layyel reached the armored foes, his blade singing and cutting past their feeble parries and sloppy defenses as he pushed them aside in his mad charge toward the exit that he and his friends once came from, crushing and striking down anything that came in between him and escape from the cave. All around him, things unseen pummeled into and through his armor as he broke away from the group and unwittingly plunged himself deeper into the facility.
 
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Nomad

Carrying Reegan was no easy task, as Nomad was effectively just a plain human as long as his Ghost was now a temp-Ghost for the tree person, running just enough to be safe with the group, they would find themselves surrounded, someone known as Kane speaking to them about joining him and other such things.

Meanwhile inside of Reegan, Eye Dee Kay would speak inside Reegan's mind. "Testing, Guardian." As he used the product to effectively begin healing Reegan at an accelerated rate, which was still gradual as to prevent accidental fusion of parts that could in turn cause damage to Reegan. The effects were rather immediate as the magic within Reegan joined with the Traveler's light, the two healing Reegan in such a way never before seen by the Guardians and their Ghosts.

"How are you feeling?" Eye Dee Kay asked as he received something from Reegan, an item sent via transmatting. A rifle of some sort, sent into storage for later inspection, right now he was more concerned with Reegan's 'transformation.' And how it was affecting her. "Do you remember who you are?" Sometimes when Light was transferred, there was a possibility of the newly made Guardian, despite not dying could end up with no memories.

Outside of Reegan, Nomad would whisper to Reegan in response to her query as the others talked about the topic at hand with Kane. "Not really, what music are you hearing?" As the more physical signs of Reegan's healing took place, making Nomad happy that she wasn't on the brink of death. Which is why he hoped they could fight their way out with no issues.

Which was when Markha unleashed a burst of lightning, and Layyel going berserk, Nomad took cover with Reegan in the middle of some cargo boxes, putting her down gently so he could help out by firing rounds from Last Word at the soldiers not in a mech suit.

He had to be careful, one shot and he was dead, and he had very limited ammo.

@Wade Von Doom @Amber Franklin @Jenhal @YeetLee @BazusoTheGrey
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Delsin Rowe

Dropped at the floor of the others, rather bruised and bloodied. Delsin couldn't help but groan and spit some blood out of his mouth. "Real charmer, your boys are." He winced as he quipped. He was out of smoke, literally. The element within him needed refreshment, or he needed to find some neon or video to absorb to not only heal from the beatdown by the power armored douches. But to get some new firepower to work with beyond smoke.

Kane and the others debated before all hell broke loose, not wanting to be a liability, Delsin limped over to Emma to help her up and get her behind some cover as without fuel for his powers, he was useless in a fight like this. "Please tell me you got something to help." He was referring to fighting, or maybe a smoke grenade or anything really. He'd take concrete as much as that power was rather limited.

Spitting some more blood onto the floor next to him, he waited til there was an opening or maybe someone threw some smoke grenades their way as to refuel himself.
 
The inside of Reegan's mind was a dark foggy morass from the smoke and ash roiling around in her head. As some burnt forest sprouting new a low hum issued in response to Eye Dee Kay's inquiry as faint blue and yellow lights erupted along the tangled nest of vines moving her thoughts. Though now a helical swirl of white material tendrils slowly metastasized around vines from the Ghost's location. Though the lights stayed still and merely hummed one closest to the spread moved from its spot as the star came closer. A marble-sized geode coated in tiny Nirnroot leaves that defined its pupil by a whorl of roots over a glowing core.

"Test Successful!", the wisp shouted cheerfully then chattered on, "Test Successful! Test failed. Test Successful!"

Other tiny humming stars shaped in the Ghost's afterimage erupted from their place among the vines in the murky heavens as more wisps arrived. As the two interference patterns of Magic and Light stabilized the fragments of thought sought out their higher abstraction. Magic was far more willing to make alterations to fit the Light's new soil and did so readily as a thing partly derived from nature rather abhorred the unused. What it touched it then adopted. Some small lights break the twined connections and rearrange them into correct orders after forced regeneration by the pale white material that bridges burnt gaps.

Three sprites lined up together and called out in turn, "Null! 8! Null!"
"Test failed," Called out the very first as another arrived with a red glow and others in tow to shout fervently at the two, "No! No! No nulls! You're numbers so you're zero now!"

"Zero of Null!" "Test failed." "No nulls! You're ammo one now!" "I'm 9 of Arrows!" "Test Passed." "I'm also zero of null!" "Test Failed." "No Nulls! You're ammo three!" "Ironwood layer at 22%!" "Substrate at 84%!" "Paracausal load at 52 kilopsi" "Reegan leaving Theta state." "Paracausal load at 131 kilopsi" "Paracausal load at 279 kilopsi" "Reegan entering zenith"

Another entered formation from the growing cloud of nearby unallocated staring leafy marbles to announce, "Damaged invocation triaged! Carin Invocation at 73%"



Reegan came to her senses on the ground as the Ghost and Nomad started asking her questions. The Pixies didn't make noise in her head but now she heard a forest of tiny little twittering birds all singing their own song. It felt soothing in a way even if she couldn't pick out just one from the throng.

"The music. It's like little birds. All waking up in the spring and singing their songs. Wind and birds are the songs of the Green. I'm a... Feykro Shulkun Qahnaarin. No... I have a name.", Reegan slurred a bit while rising from her stupor to a box remembering some man had pointed at her.

Then looked to the very large metal constructs pointing barrels at their heads. As her memories connected to the green regrew together by the Light they rearranged into the correct order she stared hearing an angry spirit. Though behind the misty eyes she had trouble figuring out who asked what in the pain of trying to figure out what was going on. Everything was numb, there was shouting, and a growing call near the green that sounded like thunder. Her skin had flaked off on her entire front leaving just a scarred pale ironwood and in places, exposed human bones. Once covered by ironwood bark and skin a thin tan mossy scar poured over the white filigree around holes to close the gaps with woodsy flesh. The numbness at least was better than pain even if she felt terribly cold.

The faded red glow rose to a deep sunset orange as she looked at Nomad's worry scooting up behind a box, "I'm Reegan. I mean. I'm okay, Eye Dee Kay. My memories are all noisy but the Green still remembers my name for me." @The Wanderer

As Markha fired her lighting the linearity of time reasserted itself in Reegan's head the spark-crack clears the inner muddle of smoke as Reegan whirls to her knees one hand outstretched to strike with the other at her dangling bracelets. An outsized knell of metal came with the strike as a burning purple Nightstalker bow emblazoned with the way of the wraith erupts into her outstretched hand.

Sprites started chattering as a constellation loaded to express that intersection of light and magic within the Reaper, "Rapid engram fabricator online. Loading Incarnate engram patterns. Writing Incarnate engrams."

Porcelain vines erupt then recede as a corrosive grenade reconstructs into the bow hand, "Of Spriggans, pestilent man, I am the only reaper! I will not fight a forest fire with a swarm of locusts stripping all power for their own gain!" @YeetLee @Amber Franklin

Pulls of her other hand against an invisible bowstring release small canisters in a lazy arc toward the large slashed metal suits. Striated clouds of grey and purple streaks erupt on or near the mechs as some bulbous cancer raises metal paint from the combustion of oxidation and corrosion. Now back to her own mind tried to stop the metal armors without destroying their pilots. @The Wanderer
 
Kassandra of Sparta

Taking up the rear with Markha, Kassandra kept her bow ready to fire. Not to say she was oblivious to the state of her first team. Markha was ready as well, but there was an unease to her. It was a common thing she has seen on the battlefield, even in the eyes of her fellow Spartans: Markha was shaken but still trying to stand. What could have happened back there? It had appeared to be a victory. Maybe an enemy had nearly killed her, and only a fateful move had saved her. Kassandra notes to keep an eye on her going forward.

In keeping with her silent decision Kassandra follows Markha to the front of the group for when the doors open. The Spartan was ready for the sparse people revealed to be inside to offer reeistance. After a moment of awe inspired by the sight of the ship they had come to commandeer, of course. A ship that looks like a giant arrowhead, or short dagger. There was a moment Kassandra wondered what you would name such a vessel, and perhaps she had suggestions.

Kassandra is brought out of her thoughts by the sudden escalation of the situation. They had been allowed to think the goal was at hand for this trap! They were surrounded, and many summarily disarmed. Even her, with a rifle at her back, was forced to drop her bow and allow the Spear of Leonidas to be taken from her belt by a lowly soldier.

"I will take that back along with your life, malaka!" She yells at the offending soldier.

"Whatever, bitch." was the soldiers retort. He spun the spear tip in his hand. He would pay for that dearly. Her Nemean Claws and quiver were also taken off her back. Now she had only her bare hands to get it all back. They would be more than enough.

While Kane gave them all a monologue Kassandra pans her head around to check how everyone else was fairing. Layyel seems to be in distress, and for good reason as he was the largest target, and thus has the largest weapons trained on him. Markha was frozen; fear or despair she could not tell. The ones named Abby and Alec were the only ones openly defiant.

Kane made an appeal for them to join him as he tries to put up Emma Frost as the one who has been pulling the strings. As if he were not the one commanding a small army ready to kill them any moment. Kassandra has no interest in joining him or debating with him. She was planning how to kill the soldiers around her to get in her way to the ship.


All she needed was for an opening. Anything to break the focus of their enemy.

The opening came from an unexpected source. Markha had looked defeated and in need of protection until she could regain her footing. To her great surprise Kassandra witnesses Markha attack Kane and those above with lightning, and disorient them with a shout that feels like it shakes her very heart. Layyel also panics, and makes a run for the way they had come, cutting down some of the larger armored enemies.

It was the best time to turn the tide.

Kassandra ducks to avoid any gunfire aimed at her or the retreating Layyel. Sweeps out the legs from under the soldier with her Nemean Claws. He falls hard onto his back, releasing his grip. She grabs her weapon with both hands, and with a mighty roar swings it in a wide arc around herself. Several catch the actual claws. One of them drops her Bow of Achilles and quiver. The one with her Spear brings up his rifle, but she swings up and breaks his arm, at the same moment he pulls the trigger causing the bullets to fire upward. An overhead swing cuts his cry of agony short when the claws dig into the back of his neck. Kassandra pulls the Spear from his belt as he falls and put in its proper place on her belt as she continues her war path; first her bow and quiver, and onward towards the ship.

Gunfire, her main obstacle, is blocked by her swift bobbing movement and use of other soldiers as shields while she uses her Nemean Claws to trip or crush anyone in her way.
 
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Trigger
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The retreat was going somewhat well at first. There would undoubtedly be an extreme number of soldiers as the group arrived in the hangar. Trigger was prepared for it, he had done several heists like this before. None of the heists had gone this badly, but there were going to be rough patches when you couldn’t prepare. Upon running into the hangar, everyone slid to a stop. Soldiers surrounded them with weapons trained on them, along with a familiar face. It was Michael, the man who had run the prison Trigger and a few others in the group had been in. There was also a man, introducing himself as michael's overseer and the leader of the whole operation. Trigger stood at the ready to attack, even when a few soldiers had taken his guns. A few words were passed back and forth as to whether the group was on the right side or not, but it was all chosen when Markha let out a scream along with a hiss of lightning. The electricity coiled and arced towards the two men with a deep blue glow. Markha was not the only one to begin this rampage however, as Layyel let out a roar and charged at the soldiers.

“Alright, let’s fuckin’ go!” Trigger pumped his fist up as he shouted towards Markha and Layyel, and then disappeared into thin air. He reappeared behind the soldiers that had taken his weapons, taking their heads and bashing them together so they could drop his guns. When the soldiers were stunned, he picked up his pistol and quickly shot the two in the back. Trigger then glanced over and saw Delsin and Emma hiding behind cover without weapons. He quickly picked up the guns of the soldiers he killed and reappeared next to them, dropping them on the floor before them. “I’m not gonna die because you two weren’t covering me, got it?” He simply said before disappearing again. The next person he reappeared next to was Kassandra, shooting anyone she might’ve not been able to get to in the midst of her reign of chaos. Trigger had his rifle from his back in his hands, and was swiftly moving the gun’s barrel in an almost musical fashion. Any bullets that had come his way he simply was able to teleport out of the way of, or shoot the person firing the gun before the bullet left the barrel. A few soldiers attempted to take out a melee weapon and hit him in the back of the head, only to have the stock of the alien rifle shoved into their face. “We’ll try and create an opening in the soldiers and lead the rest of the group towards the ship, that sound good to you Mrs. mythology?” Trigger asked, shouting over the sheer amount of gunfire that was echoing throughout the room.
 
The Force, is not with Markha in the moment she wanted a mighty push to throttle droids and soldiers against each other into the far wall. Her Master had demonstrated how a Jedi could throw even the formidable Destroyer Droid away with The Force.

Instead of being thrown, the droids explode inside their own shields from the power of Lavaetin. The moment before this happened, she heard Emma's voice again calling for a retreat. The enemy before them was mostly obliterated by the last attack, but if their leader was ordering a retreat, who was she to argue they push forward?

Since when had her command experience been correct?

"Layyel! Come along! You're hurt!" Markha joins Kassandra in ushering their large friend to fall back as well, lightsaber at the ready to deflect anything that would try to do him more harm. It's the most useful thing she feels she can do now.

They fall back and follow the team that now considers her Captain, but the Zeltron stays back, covering their rear with her lightsaber humming at the ready. She wishes they had some time, any time, for her to stop and meditate. She had thought the time prior to the mission had been adequate to reconnect with The Force. But it was evident now that was inadequate. She was inadequate. Her skills with her lightsaber and piloting would be her only contributions until she could regain her connection to The Force.

But it had been there earlier. That she was certain about. She had felt it lift her lightsaber and bring it to her hand. What had happened?

Was it that trap? The one that had disabled Miss Frost and affected the tree being, but her not as much. It had felt at most like a fleeting headache. Had she retreated from The Force to protect herself on reflex?

Too many questions, and they were not in a position to give her time to meditate on them. The doors to the hangar open before them. Markha steps beside Commander Harold. She had been instated as their Captain after all. She thinks about using her natural abilities to calm everyone down while Harold talks to them.

Maybe it would have worked. If there had been more time, or if she had foreseen the seconds prior to Harold being shot in the head from the back. Markha watches his body fall. Sees the crew he had been training with, formed bonds with, falter in shock and despair as the hangar is suddenly filled with danger at all angles. Soldiers, enormous droids, surrounding them all.

How could she not have foreseen this? Was her connection truly gone?

To her this is an evident truth. She was powerless to stop this from happening. She is powerless to stop a soldier from taking the lightsaber from her limp hands unaware she had deactivated it in surrender.

Markha watches the man who had shot Harold threaten them all. She watches their leader try to turn them against Miss Frost as if he were the real hero here. She also sees the rest of the flight crew look to her for guidance and hope. Listening to him, Markha feels anger bubble up in her gut and out from her heart.

The Dark Side is the path of least resistance to The Force. Anger, fear, are natural emotions used to tap into its power.” She remembers her Master telling her.

“The Sith were unbridled emotion and wild power. It can take only a day for one to achieve great strength in The Force when they use their passion to bend it to their will.”

In these moments, Markha hated this Michael, hated Kane.

But most of all, she hated herself for being so weak she could do nothing.

Now was not a time for patience and trust in The Force. Right now they needed swift and brutal action or they would all die.

A mighty animalistic scream comes out of Markha as she raises one hand high and the other at Kane and Michael. Her pink skin turns deep red and her eyes burn orange. With a loud hiss-crackle, blue lightning erupts from her fingertips. It arcs through air and metal towards those she hates with all her being in the moment. To be touched by this lightning, one feels pain not only in their whole body, but their very being as the hate which generated it assaults their essence.

Kaz let out a soft curse as stuff began to fall apart. Well. It wasn't as bad as she thought it was. Okay Kaz, take a moment, calm down, think. There was enemies all around, allies in a panic. And a scream that echoed though the air. She knew that scream. A last ditch effort scream.

She moved over to the pink skinned girl with lightning dancing from her fingertips. Her form was off. Feet too close, her fingers could use some work. In fact. Her whole stance was off. Probably was her first time doing this. Pointers for later. The vampire shook her head and reached over to grab her shoulder. She was about to take a few rounds and Kaz needed to move her.

And with her in this barbarian like rage, and the lightning of hate that shot from her fingers she knew of only one way to snap her out of this. And well... she might not like it, but the pink skinned girl needed it.

Kaz shot up behind her and embraced her in a rather supporting hug. If the pink girl lost her footing Kaz would be able to hold her up rather easily. Next came Kaz's favorite part. She cocked her head back, sealed her lips around the girls neck just where it meets the shoulder, and let her teeth sink into Markha. A calm numbness would begin to spread from her shoulder as the two needles sunk in softly. Little pain filled her, in fact, it felt rather nice, tingling softly with a feeling that Markha would have probably never felt before.

A certain feeling of closeness with the vampire behind her formed as Kaz began to drag Markha away form the firefight and up the loading ramp into the ship, Only releasing the girl when she was behind that Trigger fellow, and that Kassandra chick.

"Oui! Snap the fuck out of it. I need you coherent right now. I can't be carrying people while filled with a few thousand amps alright. Its not good for your health." Kaz spoke in a soft whisper right next to Markha's ear as she held her there for a moment, and then let her go. That wound on her shoulder just to soft scars moments later.
 
The Force, is not with Markha in the moment she wanted a mighty push to throttle droids and soldiers against each other into the far wall. Her Master had demonstrated how a Jedi could throw even the formidable Destroyer Droid away with The Force.

Instead of being thrown, the droids explode inside their own shields from the power of Lavaetin. The moment before this happened, she heard Emma's voice again calling for a retreat. The enemy before them was mostly obliterated by the last attack, but if their leader was ordering a retreat, who was she to argue they push forward?

Since when had her command experience been correct?

"Layyel! Come along! You're hurt!" Markha joins Kassandra in ushering their large friend to fall back as well, lightsaber at the ready to deflect anything that would try to do him more harm. It's the most useful thing she feels she can do now.

They fall back and follow the team that now considers her Captain, but the Zeltron stays back, covering their rear with her lightsaber humming at the ready. She wishes they had some time, any time, for her to stop and meditate. She had thought the time prior to the mission had been adequate to reconnect with The Force. But it was evident now that was inadequate. She was inadequate. Her skills with her lightsaber and piloting would be her only contributions until she could regain her connection to The Force.

But it had been there earlier. That she was certain about. She had felt it lift her lightsaber and bring it to her hand. What had happened?

Was it that trap? The one that had disabled Miss Frost and affected the tree being, but her not as much. It had felt at most like a fleeting headache. Had she retreated from The Force to protect herself on reflex?

Too many questions, and they were not in a position to give her time to meditate on them. The doors to the hangar open before them. Markha steps beside Commander Harold. She had been instated as their Captain after all. She thinks about using her natural abilities to calm everyone down while Harold talks to them.

Maybe it would have worked. If there had been more time, or if she had foreseen the seconds prior to Harold being shot in the head from the back. Markha watches his body fall. Sees the crew he had been training with, formed bonds with, falter in shock and despair as the hangar is suddenly filled with danger at all angles. Soldiers, enormous droids, surrounding them all.

How could she not have foreseen this? Was her connection truly gone?

To her this is an evident truth. She was powerless to stop this from happening. She is powerless to stop a soldier from taking the lightsaber from her limp hands unaware she had deactivated it in surrender.

Markha watches the man who had shot Harold threaten them all. She watches their leader try to turn them against Miss Frost as if he were the real hero here. She also sees the rest of the flight crew look to her for guidance and hope. Listening to him, Markha feels anger bubble up in her gut and out from her heart.

The Dark Side is the path of least resistance to The Force. Anger, fear, are natural emotions used to tap into its power.” She remembers her Master telling her.

“The Sith were unbridled emotion and wild power. It can take only a day for one to achieve great strength in The Force when they use their passion to bend it to their will.”

In these moments, Markha hated this Michael, hated Kane.

But most of all, she hated herself for being so weak she could do nothing.

Now was not a time for patience and trust in The Force. Right now they needed swift and brutal action or they would all die.

A mighty animalistic scream comes out of Markha as she raises one hand high and the other at Kane and Michael. Her pink skin turns deep red and her eyes burn orange. With a loud hiss-crackle, blue lightning erupts from her fingertips. It arcs through air and metal towards those she hates with all her being in the moment. To be touched by this lightning, one feels pain not only in their whole body, but their very being as the hate which generated it assaults their essence.

With Emma and Kane going at it, Alec didn't even notice Markha's furry starting to grow as each word came out their lips. He was too busy looking around the room, checking for cover from the bulletstorm awaiting them all if they tried anything. They were covered at all angles, with Kane 10 to 15 feet from them all, with Michael standing behind him, and two soldiers to his left and right. Garrus, meanwhile, had his hands up, and his rifle taken away, although was close enough to some of the other soldiers that he could try taking his chances an grabbing for one of theirs. But without a distraction, it'd be suicide.

'Look what he has done with the remaining resources of a dying nation, and ask yourself if you think he can be trusted with more in many other universes, with your own home.' With that line, a moment of silence fell onto the group, and Alec was first to speak up. "Yeah, no offense, pal. I smell more bullshit from you than a cattle ranch." He quipped.

"You're pretty much holding us up at gunpoint, and our choices are 'join me, or pretty much die.' If that doesn't spell 'bad guy,' I've been sold a false bill of goods after years of fighting men like you." Garrus also retorted.

Kane obviously wasn't going to turn these people, that much was clear. But, no big loss. "Then I'm disappointed." Kane simply said back, as Michael handed him a small radio. "I simply wish to return home. However, if you wish to make this dying planet your graves, that's your choice." He put the radio up to his mouth and spoke into it. "Is it ready?"

"Yes sir, it's on your way now. We faced.... difficulties." A voice on the other end of the radio said back.

"What do you mean?"

"Scattered forces have infiltrated parliament, Butyrka, and and the science facilities."

"Friends of yours?" Kane asked the group.

"What, did you think we were the only ones fuckin' up your day?" Alec retorted.

"The perimeter wall has also been breached. Creatures have begun swarming the city."

"Have the loyalists been evacuated from the building?"

"Negative. Riots have surrounded the building, it's currently in lockdown."

"Where are you?"

"Approaching the hanger. ETA three minutes."

"Then we'll have to leave without them. Bring the device to the ship, and we'll set it up once we're in orbit." Kane handed the radio back to Michael, before telling him, "Kill them." Michael grinned, already cocking back his gun.

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The man Kane was talking to wasn't one of his men. It was someone imitating his voice. He and his squad were currently being executed.

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TARGETS LOCATED.

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Michael took aim to fire a round into Abby's head, since he hated her the most, but before he could make good on his word, Markha screamed out in anger. Turning his head, Alec and Kane both watched as she started raising her hands up. Seeing the small electric bolts form between her fingers, Alec jumped up to his feet and dragged Abby to the floor. "GET DOWN!" He shouted to everyone, with Garrus ducking with him. Lightning blasted out, starting first with the two soldiers guarding Kane, before it spread to everyone else.

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From the ground floor where they were, to the soldiers up in the rafters, the lightning spread across to the whole hanger, attaching itself to anything metal it could be conducted through. Even the mechs were overloaded by it, with the men inside frying like a bird landing on an exposed powerline; erupting into flames, or exploding once their ammunition suddenly ignited. Sparks fell to the ground as the lights blew out, and electronics were completely destroyed; setting afire to everything, even the flammable barrels. Kane himself was hit by her intense power, with lightning bouncing off his body, sending his body flying to the other side of the hanger, while Michael managed to duck down behind cover just in time with a bolt just missing him by millimeters. By the time Kaz moved in to calm her down, the damage was beyond anything Markha would've thought possible with her powers.

The corpses were smoldering, or still smoking, with their skin charred and uniforms tattered. Those that remained out of the way, they were easily disposed of by Trigger, Nomad, and even Kassandra, those they were only a dozen men with little idea of what just happened, standing out in the open. Any opposition they thought they'd face were so minor, it was nothing. It was a straight shot to the ship. Reinforcements were sure to be on their way, and a few people were likely still alive, although badly injured, the only real danger was falling rafters and the fires spreading all around by the exploding barrels.

"Ho-ly... Jesus." Alec muttered. He stood back up, giving a hand to Abby as well. He looked over to see Markha back to normal, thanks to Kaz being... Well, Kaz. Though he still had wide eyes and an slightly open mouth. Garrus tried grabbing his weapons from the now dead guards, but his weapons were fried by the lightning. All of the weapons on the soldiers were, as the ammo inside exploded. "Alright, let's just get the hell out of here. You guys still willing to help?" Alec asked the crew Emma brought with them.

After they answered, something smashed through the roof of the hanger. It landed right at the other end, where the ramp was to get to the ship.

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"Oh, what the fuck is this." Alec groaned. Whatever it was, it's skin was pure black, and it stared them all down.

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With Layyel running away from the group, he easily smashed through the droids behind them. Once he was far enough away from everyone, however, the tunnel he found himself in was now completely dark, as the power in this section of the base had died from Markha's lightning. Yet, he could hear music off in the distance.


It would approach him slowly as it continued to play. And his surroundings would begin to collapse around him. Not the tunnel itself, but the darkness that had engulfed him.

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When the music was all around him, he could hear a voice start talking to him.

"Layyel." It was a soft, comforting tone, wishing to relax him from his panicked state. "You're okay. They can't hurt you." He would feel light headed, almost dizzy, with the feeling of hands hugging him surrounding his body; pushing him backwards to fall slowly to the ground. "Consider this a gift." Something began to remove his helmet, and once it was gone, he could look down at himself and see he was back in human form. His memories of life before his transformations would start to come back to him. He could feel at peace. "Here," the voice created a light at the far end of where he stood. "Let's get you back home." Layyel would see faint shadows in the light. Figures he would recognize.

Figures welcoming him back home.​
 
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Layyel ran.

Behind him, streaks of blood and viscera painted the walls, remnants of the slavers and their constructs brought low and dashed upon the stones and broken ruins of the tunnel, yet it gave him no relief. The light of the exit was so, so far away and no matter how fast he ran or how panicked his pace, the light seemed to grow dimmer and dimmer, as if being swallowed by the dark.

Behind him, the screams grew louder and the shadows grew heavier.

Layyel ran faster, still holding a faint hope that he could escape until it was extinguished as the light gave way to the blackness of the tunnel.

Layyel stumbled and fell face-first onto the ground, all hope was lost to him now. Rolling over, Layyel tried to find anything at all, an exit, a torch, a friend, anything that could save him. Instead, he beheld the shadows of the cave, and soon the shadows came to life, brandishing theirs flensing blades as they smothered him. Soon the pain came as they cut away at his flesh and sinew, sewing on extra bits and breaking off the parts that they didn't need. They laughed as they did so, intermingling with the screams that fell silent until the only voice left was his. He drowned in the pain, the long-forgotten despair of the past pummeling and smothering him until eventually, it stopped.

Distantly, he could hear the faint melodic sound of a woman's voice, getting closer and closer. As it approached, the pain in Layyel's body left him and the shadows were banished as the music resounded from around him, blanketing him in comfort. Shakingly, Layyel stood amongst the music and heard a voice. As it spoke, Layyel felt comfortable and light as gentle hands embraced him in silent comfort.

Soon, his helm, the cage once nailed and welded onto him, was lifted from his head and Layyel looked down upon himself. His armor had been cleaned it seemed, and what little flesh that was uncovered by his plate was healthy and tan. Smiling to himself, Layyel closed his eyes and breathed out a sigh of relief. He felt relaxed as memories of a village surrounded by verdant green and old companions flooded through him as he reminisced and basked in the music.

Opening his eyes, Laurel beheld a light surrounding friends both new and old. Laurel stepped forward, Micheal and Hild, his oldest friends, taking his hands as Leopold stood behind them, billhook at the ready to protect him from harm. The rest of them smiled and helped his best friends pull him into the light.

Laurel smiled as well, welcoming the comfort and embracing the music as he closed his eyes and allowed them to pull him close.
 
(Collab post)

Kassandra pulls her Nemean Claws out from the skull of a soldier and glares at the Centurion. "Move! Or be moved!" She barks. The being stands still. Kassandra huffs. "Be moved it is then." She holds her claws back horizontally before she charges directly at the Centurion yelling at the top of her lungs. Typical Spartan fashion. She swings her claws when in strike range, intending to hit him full in the head with her momentum from the run and swing


Lavaetain looked at the centurion as she snapped her fingers. Immediately her weapon, Lavaetain, flared into being in her hands. She looked at the being with disdain. She was used to fighting mages with power that looked like it was far beyond what this being possessed. But, then again, a mage had an entirely different look. Oh well. No matter. She quickly raised her blade upwards as she channeled the flame to cause the ground to start to well up and erupt upwards... Right as Kassandra charged in.

"Kassandra! Watch out!" she cried out in warning. It was too late to stop the spell now and the centurion would almost certainly dodge in response, but if it meant there wasn't a spartan barbeque it was worth it.



The centurion didn't move as Kassandra ran up to it. Once she made her swing, it ducked its head under her arm, switched his blade around so it was along its forearm, and slashed at her abdomen quickly. It's speed was fast, reacting within seconds of the attacks. Before Lava's spell could hit, the centurion put its hand to the ground, and a black field of energy blocked the eruption. The ground around the field blew up in flames, but the centurion and Kassandra were fine.

Lava would feel its power was magic. Or something unnatural. Looking at it would give her a headache, as it was pure black. Like staring into a dark cave. This thing may not be organic, but whatever power it wielded was not manufactured. It was... just dark. The centurion quickly spun around, flipping its blade upwards again, and tried slashing Kassandra again across her back.



Kassandra grunts taking the slash at her abdomen. Her armor takes the worst of the cut at least. Her claws swipe air and her feet hit the ground hard. Anticipating an attack from behind, Kassandra lets go of her claws to get out the Spear of Leonidas and duck the slash meant for her back. One hand reaches out to grab the Centurion by the weapon arm while the other thrusts up with the Spear at his neck.



Lavaetain grunted in annoyance. So long as Kassandra remained in close she couldn't use most of her offensive spells for fear of friendly fire. She quickly ran through her list of viable spells that wouldn't also risk accidentally hitting Kassandra and came up lacking. Everything she knew either expected her opponent to be a mage or would require a precision she couldn't muster as long as looking directly at the being. She had heard of such darkness before, in the legends about demons and the like, but actual encounters with the fel were so rare that it was more hypotheticals than factual. Still there was one thing she could do. She raised her blade upwards and conjured up flame until it took form in a replica of herself, and then she repeated, and repeated, slowly trying to encircle the centurion with her flaming doubles which, when commanded, would surge forwards in a hopefully-undodgable attack that would break through but could be held back for at least a little bit at the same time.



She grabs it, and successfully stabbed the centurion in the neck, but only sparks came off. Its skin was pure metal. With its other arm, the Centurion grabbed Kassandra's arm, and threw her right at where Lava was standing without any effort, pushing her through Lava's replicas. It then summoned a spear of its own out of the pure black energy it commanded, and slammed it down to the ground, causing a dark explosion that snuffed out the rest of the replicas.

Before the smoke even cleared, it then flew the spear at Lava and Kassandra. When it landed, it let out a huge, yet somehow black explosion.

"LOOK OUT!" Alec shouted, pushing Abby out of the way again of the spear, as it was aimed directly at the rest of the group as well. The shockwave would knock the two forwards, with dust and dirt covering them bot.

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As the mechs went down and men fell by a bolt of lightning Reegan hid behind the box as the twittering in her head started to deafen. Too many dead all at once made her mind throb with pain. as she pulled herself back to firing position over the crate leveled her bow at the centurion. A finger twitch released a whip-CRACK of glowing purple arrow charged with void energy breaking the sound barrier. The path went wild as the black energy washed over her and arrow both. Eyes turning a pale red she collapsed to the ground before the color started to recover and she bent up.



Lavaetain grunted in pain as Kassandra was thrown hard into her and, a second later, a spear made of black energy. Instantly Lavaetain's barriers flared up. Her first primary barrier snapped into being and shattered as her secondary rose up, shattering at it dissipated enough of the darkness. The force of the explosion threw her back as well causing her pain as she crashed to the ground, but she was alive. Two barriers down! She had never had that happen before from a single attack. It was almost unheard of short of very specific spells designed to shatter shields and extremely powerful spells that were used as last ditch efforts. Her third barrier, her clothes, was thankfully undepleted but it would take a bit for her barriers to regenerate. At least half a minute if not more.

"Careful. I have no clue what magic that is, but it's not normal. That should have only broken one barrier at most." she said as she coughed and tried to get back up to her feet.



It takes Kassandra a few seconds of groaning and shaking of her head to get herself oriented.

"He tossed me. Never been tossed like that before." She rises to her feet and is together enough to understand Lavaetain. Although she does hold the arm the Centurion had thrown her by. A miracle it wasn’t dislocated, but it still hurts and a large bruise forms on her forearm.

"No, it’s not a man. My Spear struck metal between the armor. " Her eyes narrow.

“We have to hit it with something bigger to distract it to get on the ship.”



"Sonofabitch what the hell is that thing?" Abby coughs getting up from the floor.

"Nice save Alec. Now we gotta re-arm and get on that ship." Abby wipes her eyes clear and looks around. Yeah most weapons around look to be fried.

But there are still a lot of crates.

"If we're lucky, these got some goodies." Abby army crawls to a stack of large yellow crates on the ground nearby and opens one.

"Jackpot!" She pulls out a pod weapon from the crate like the ones used by the guards of this facility. They open with just a touch.

"Now how the hell do you change the settings?" Abby checks her gun. Near the trigger is a dial and a tiny screen that changes as it's turned. Default setting is 'Automatic'. Others as it's turned clockwise are Replay, Arrow, Net, Flame, Rocket, Ice.

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"Ohhh rocket!" Abby's eyes go wide when she finds that setting.

"If you lost your piece come on over! These crates got what you need!" Abby calls over to the others. Each of the five crates has a dozen of these weapons, fully loaded with reloads stored in the bottom.

"Now, let's see how he likes this." Abby stalks around the stacks until she gets a clear shot of the Centurion, aims, and launches a rocket at him.



Reegan grabbed the edge of the box as the Ghost behind her dim red eyes helped her injured body turn back the darkness to return in their deep orange. While she didn't turn to Nomad to see how he took the fell black nova, she knew she had to focus on the Centurion. Instincts swiveled her ear to the spartan more than the excited Abby. The voice of command drew her subservience As one supposed to serve a Dragonborn when the prophecy came to be.

The Ghost had quick attention as she called for the rifle, "Ghost, the rifle."

The Final Embrace erupted from transmat in a fury of silver threads. A blue large-bore sniper rifle with gold trim drove its stabilizer feet through the box as vanes in the rifle body started to smolder in misty glimmers of light. Said curtly for Nomad's benefit, she explained, "I am strong enough to nurture three projectiles only. Choose well."

Reegan knew she wasn't strong enough to be a distraction on her own but was strong enough to arrange one. A true name of un-creature Layyel wasn't known to her if it had one of its own at all, but very few fail to hear when a reaper uses its voice to call out their chosen name. A bellow of something only somewhat a sound in the ear as a name strangely almost one's own tongue but failed to make sense the ear of those who did not bear the person it carried. She called him to her by entreating the creature to wreak death in the darkness it was born from.



"He's a Robot?" clarified Lavaetain, regretting immediately that she was incapable of lightning magic. However she had fire and there was plenty she could do with that. Especially with an oh-so-convenient rocket streaking out from Abby's direction. An oh so convenient rocket that would provide a natural source of flame regardless of what happen. An oh so convenient flame that could be shaped and focused.

As the rocket streaked forwards Lava didn't really care if it hit the centurion or not. Instead she quickly amplified it's speed with her own fire magic and then focused on the blast that would, doubtless, ensue to focus and shape all that energy. Energy that would be normally lost expanding outwards in useless directions now being focused forwards and towards the centurion. Even if she only controlled the combustible aspect of that...

But more importantly she was buying time to stay away from the centurion until her shields replenished. She didn't want to have to go beyond her limits in order to keep them charged, especially since the first limit would be irrelevant in keeping her shields charged meaning it would go right to the second; her own body.



The centurion did dodge, dashing to the right in the blink of an eye, but with Lava's spell on Abby's missile, the explosion's intensity still engulfed it. When the smoke passed, the centurion was still standing, although more visibly damaged now. It's armor was more dented, and pieces of its black skin had chipped off, including half of its mouth. Something was leaking out of the cracks though, a black fog that billowed out like smoke from a damaged machine.

It looked right at Abby, and although it couldn't emote any facial, it felt like he was pissed at her. With another fast dash, it smashed into another one of the crates scattered around; sending it tumbling at the group like it was rolling down a hill. It also slashed its sword three times across, sending out beams of energy to the left, right and center of the group, so if they tried rushing to the left or right, or kept to the center the beams would head right for where they would try to dodge.

Layyel ran.

Behind him, streaks of blood and viscera painted the walls, remnants of the slavers and their constructs brought low and dashed upon the stones and broken ruins of the tunnel, yet it gave him no relief. The light of the exit was so, so far away and no matter how fast he ran or how panicked his pace, the light seemed to grow dimmer and dimmer, as if being swallowed by the dark.

Behind him, the screams grew louder and the shadows grew heavier.

Layyel ran faster, still holding a faint hope that he could escape until it was extinguished as the light gave way to the blackness of the tunnel.

Layyel stumbled and fell face-first onto the ground, all hope was lost to him now. Rolling over, Layyel tried to find anything at all, an exit, a torch, a friend, anything that could save him. Instead, he beheld the shadows of the cave, and soon the shadows came to life, brandishing theirs flensing blades as they smothered him. Soon the pain came as they cut away at his flesh and sinew, sewing on extra bits and breaking off the parts that they didn't need. They laughed as they did so, intermingling with the screams that fell silent until the only voice left was his. He drowned in the pain, the long-forgotten despair of the past pummeling and smothering him until eventually, it stopped.

Distantly, he could hear the faint melodic sound of a woman's voice, getting closer and closer. As it approached, the pain in Layyel's body left him and the shadows were banished as the music resounded from around him, blanketing him in comfort. Shakingly, Layyel stood amongst the music and heard a voice. As it spoke, Layyel felt comfortable and light as gentle hands embraced him in silent comfort.

Soon, his helm, the cage once nailed and welded onto him, was lifted from his head and Layyel looked down upon himself. His armor had been cleaned it seemed, and what little flesh that was uncovered by his plate was healthy and tan. Smiling to himself, Layyel closed his eyes and breathed out a sigh of relief. He felt relaxed as memories of a village surrounded by verdant green and old companions flooded through him as he reminisced and basked in the music.

Opening his eyes, Laurel beheld a light surrounding friends both new and old. Laurel stepped forward, Micheal and Hild, his oldest friends, taking his hands as Leopold stood behind them, billhook at the ready to protect him from harm. The rest of them smiled and helped his best friends pull him into the light.

Laurel smiled as well, welcoming the comfort and embracing the music as he closed his eyes and allowed them to pull him close.

Reegan's call would come back empty. Layyel wouldn't hear it. His thoughts were completely drowned in the new reality he was in. When he came wandering out of the tunnel, back to where they were fighting the Centurion, he was just not there at all. He wouldn't hear commands, or anything shouting at him. He would simply walk past them, and the Centurion strangely ignored him; letting the giant pass.

Laurel would simply see the Centurion as one of the knights guarding the town, standing aside as he welcomed him home. Everyone was welcoming him back like the war hero he was, with a party being held in the town square. As Laurel walked down the streets, Layyel was going towards the ship, walking up its ramp.
 
Delsin Rowe

The Conduit hid while the fight went down, as without fuel for his powers, he was no more than human. But eventually, the attacks made more than enough smoke that Delsin could definitely absorb to not only heal himself but refuel his powers.

Holding his hand out, the plumes of smoke flowing towards Delsin, wounds closing up and teeth realigning, but most importantly he could feel power surging through his body. Standing up, he decided to rejoin the fight by being the only thing he was good at.

Being a nuisance.

Aiming his hands at the Centurion dude, whatever the fuck he was, already damaged as Delsin launched several smoke missiles his way. Hoping to do more damage and cloud the vision of said Centurion after the flurry of beam sword attacks, as the shitshow continued to get worse.

@Wade Von Doom @Amber Franklin @Wiggin @YeetLee @Whoever-Else-I-Missed
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Nomad

The now human Guardian accepted the strange rifle as Reegan offered it to him, watching as Layyel literally walked past the Centurion after shoving Reegan and himself out of the way of those beam attacks, when Nomad got an idea.

"Reegan, get up and get to the ship, right after Layyel. Maybe the bastard will ignore you as I lay into him, but right now I'd really like it if you didn't die with Eye in ya. Got too many songs in there to let that go to waste." Hopefully the tree-lady would listen as Nomad moved away from her as he braced the rifle before firing the shots at the Centurion, hopefully buying her enough time to get after Layyel and into safety.

@littlekreen