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Stella Iaret

"If you live in a glass house, don't go throwing stones, unless you want your precious illusions to shatter, I guess."

0 · 4,099 views · located in Earth || 3020

a character in “A Garden for Sinners”, as played by Ion

Description




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Falling Star
⌈Only the worst of sinners would ever call himself a saint.⌋




|Theme|

Gabrielle Aplin || Human
Starset || Halo
Natalie Merchant || My Skin
Sara Bareilles || Brave
Owl City || Shooting Star
Blaqk Audio || Faith Healer




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⌈Someone told me once that everything we are, everything we could ever be, is reducible to mathematics. It seemed convincing at the time, but I can’t let myself believe it, or what would be left to hope for?⌋




⌈Nickname⌋
[ Stel | Ella ]

⌈Age⌋
[ 18 ]

⌈Gender⌋
[ Female ]

⌈Species⌋
[ Genetically-Modified Human ]

⌈Role⌋
[ The Descendant ]

⌈Face Claim⌋
[ Yuuko Kanoe | Tasogare Otome x Amnesia ]




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⌈Sometimes, I’m not even sure I’m human anymore—if I ever was to begin with.⌋




⌈Hair Color⌋
[ Dark Purple ]

⌈Eye Color⌋
[ Red-Gold ]

⌈Skin Tone⌋
[ Fair ]

⌈Height⌋
[ 5’8” ]

⌈Weight⌋
[ 130 ]

⌈Physical Description⌋
[ Exotic. It’s the operative word when considering Stella’s appearance. To be fair, she usually goes to great lengths to appear more mundane than she actually is. While her hair is naturally a deep, eggplant-purple with hints of black, she dyes it entirely the second color so as not to draw too much attention to herself. It is easily long enough to hit her waist, thick and caught somewhere between straight and curly. Her eyes are even stranger. Most often concealed behind brown colored contact lenses, they are in fact a strikingly-bright red, each iris containing a ring of bright gold, hard to conceal even behind the lenses.

She is tall, and statuesque, generously curved everywhere, but certainly in excellent physical condition. Her facial features seem to be especially symmetrical, and there is scarcely a flaw to be found anywhere on her skin
 though she will lament the fact that it never seems to tan and as a result, she is quite susceptible to sunburn. Stella dresses herself in modest, honestly rather frumpy clothes that do nothing for her figure—again part of the need to remain as under the radar as possible. She is apparently fond of loose jeans and overlarge sweaters in drab colors. It’s not like she wants anyone to look, so why dress to draw the attention? ]




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⌈I never asked for this. My parents might have volunteered, I don’t know. I just wish I’d had some kind of choice about whether to be this
 freak or not.⌋




⌈Potential Interest⌋
Are You Kidding?: Simply put, attachment is dangerous. Stella has no idea if anyone even cares she exists, but there is a chance that they do, considering what she is and what happened to her parents. While she may not seem like the type to care about what happens to other people, she really does—certainly far enough not to paint a target on someone’s back by getting involved with them. Besides, her only experience with relationships is rather
 mild, to say the least. It’s not something she’s ever given much thought to, nor anything she thinks she needs in her life. She can get by just fine on her own, thank you.

⌈Skills
⌋
    ★ Genius || Mostly the result of the enhancements that went into her parents being transferred. It’s impossible to say if she would have been smart otherwise, but there’s a good chance she would have, as both parents were exceptionally intelligent even before they volunteered or were recruited into the EDEN project.
    ★ Violin || Though she did not have much growing up, it turns out her uncle, her mother’s brother, was quite talented with the violin, and it had long been one of his hobbies. They one they shared now belongs to her. It is no Stradivarius, but it is functional, and makes a nice sound when she plays it. That’s really all it needs to do, right?
    ★ Intuitive || It’s nothing especially quantifiable, but something about Stella seems to be able to read other people very well. She can usually get a sense of someone’s lifestyle and intentions just by studying them for a bit, and she is highly observant, usually able to detect lies or half-truths. She won’t be able to see through a very experienced liar or spy, but she can sometimes catch onto such people without really understanding what makes her feel suspicious of them.

⌈Abilities⌋
    ✠ Healing Factor || Something most of the government experiments had in common was the ability to recover relatively quickly from wounds that would kill a normal person. Stella is far from indestructible, of course, but if she gets cut, it will close up in seconds, for instance. Broken bones are mended in a couple of minutes, and while especially fatal injuries will still kill her, she can survive, for example, organ damage without the need for a hospital.
    ✠ Barriers || Her mother’s power involved the ability to generate and manipulate barriers made of telekinetic force—powerful enough to stop bullets, or, if she is lucky, a moving vehicle. Stella’s control of the ability is far from perfect, however, and so often, the strength of the fields is variable—touch-and-go at best.
    ✠ Gravatic Manipulation || The creation and manipulation of gravity fields was what her father could do, and though she has no idea, it was what made him the most feared of the successful experiments. She can make object float or even fly with multiple fields, or else slow or crush things. Again, her own mastery of the ability is far from complete, but she’s mastered levitation, at the very least.




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⌈People screw you over. It’s what they do. You’re better off expecting it if you get involved with them. Me, I just refuse to get involved.⌋




⌈Habits⌋
    ☁ Humming || Stella’s upbringing was musical. Not professionally so, but her aunt liked to sing, and could do so quite well, and her uncle played the violin as a hobby. So it’s unsurprising that she likes music, and indeed will often hum to herself unconsciously while undertaking other tasks, especially ones that don’t require a great deal of concentration, such as cleaning the shop.
    ☁ Reading || A bibliophile almost from birth, Stella has always enjoyed reading, and generally prefers that it is not on a screen. She likes the feel of an actual book in her hands, be it a novel for light reading or a technical manual of some kind—she doesn’t really discriminate. The smell of aged paper or the clean scent of new books are both appealing on their own way, and she likes the texture of pages beneath her fingers.
    ☁ People-Watching || For someone who prefers not to engage with people, she spends an awful lot of time observing them. Part of it is simply leftover from a time in her life when she didn’t feel the need to be so distant from others, part of it is simply a dull sort of curiosity. She watches them now because she wonders if anyone can tell that she isn’t like them. So far, she hasn’t been able to say anything conclusive about that, one way or another.




⌈Likes⌋
    ჩ Plums || As far as flavors go, the even mixture of sweet and tart, combined with the unusual texture, is a favorite. She snacks on them with great regularity, and has since she was a child. Her uncle used to joke that she’d turn into one, one day.
    ჩ Books || Growing up, Stella’s aunt and uncle were too poor to afford much in the way of reading material, and so she spent most of her free time in the city’s public libraries, doing her best to stuff her mind as full of information as she could. Being a genius of metahuman proportions doubtless helped, but it was more her drive to learn and understand than anything. Even now, when she probably could be working at a much more prestigious job and earing a lot more salary, she prefers to own and operate her own bookstore, attempting to keep the medium alive in an age where nearly anything can be accessed digitally.
    ჩ Animals || Kept pets are relatively rare these days, but Stella does own a dog and a pair of birds. They’re about as close to having friends as she’ll allow herself to get. The dog is an enormous wolfhound of all things, but he’s mild-mannered as they come in most situations, and commonly spends the day in the shop with her, patiently tolerating small children climbing all over him and pulling his ears.

⌈Dislikes⌋
    ✘ Small Talk || She’s hopeless at it, for one, and honestly doesn’t see the point. What about the weather is so fascinating that everyone feels compelled to mention it to one another all the time? She’d rather just not say anything than have to talk about things that don’t matter. She can enjoy conversation, it just ahs to have a point to it, or wit or something.
    ✘ People || Stella is just immensely solitary and distrustful, perhaps even a little bit paranoid, which is to be expected when you grow up believing you’re one thing only to eventually realize that what you really were all along is a monster. She keeps everyone at arms’ length save her aunt and uncle, and even with them, there is an enforced distance. She doesn’t want them to get hurt because of her.
    ✘ Snow || It always reminds her of the night they disappeared, right around Christmas. She’s never felt any joy at that time of year since, and tries to stay indoors as much as possible when it snows.




⌈Strengths⌋
    ♩ Willpower || In some senses, Stella doesn’t know the meaning of the word ‘can’t.’ If she puts her mind to something, or says she’ll do something, she means it, and nothing like other people’s ideas of what’s possible or best is going to stop her from doing it. She is made of stern stuff, to put it another way, and she doesn’t back down, even when staring death in the face.
    ♩ Independence || She’s used to getting by and making due for herself. Tough her aunt and uncle loved her, she was always working to support herself from a very early age, and has learned to rely on nobody else for anything she needs. It means she’s used to solving her own problems and coming to her own solutions.
    ♩ Adaptability || Part of her success in taking care of herself stems from the fact that she is very good at adapting to new situations and information. She might be stubborn, but she is not stupid, and she knows how to be smart about achieving her goals.

⌈Weaknesses⌋
    ☯ Solitude || Put simply, Stella is very used to being alone. She doesn’t always know how to deal with other people, and teamwork is a risky proposition since she finds it so difficult to trust anyone. She also just feels awkward around others most of the time, though she can put on a façade and act like she doesn’t if she really has to.
    ☯ Emotions || She feels things very deeply, and sometimes this is to her detriment. Genius she may be, but she is not always logical. Sometimes, her feelings get in the way, and though she doesn’t want to, she cannot help but empathize with other people, and the truth is that she forgives far too easily, even when badly hurt by the actions of someone else.
    ☯ Impulsive || She doesn’t always fully think things through before acting. In the case where her temper gets a hold of her, for instance, she may rush into a situation without adequate planning first. Fortunately, her adaptability usually helps her out of a bind caused this way, but there’s always a risk that it won’t be enough. She also lacks a bit of a filter when she speaks because of this tendency of hers.




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⌈We’re all just products of circumstance and genetics. It goes back to the mathematics thing, I guess.⌋




⌈Personality⌋
Stubborn | Proud | Sarcastic | Intelligent


As her way of carrying herself may suggest, Stella is possessed of a fair bit of pride. She has lived her life on the very fringes of civilized society, and she has refused to let anything, her circumstances or other people included, break her. This, she thinks, is worth standing tall for. She is beholden to no one, completely solitary and self-reliant, and she prefers it that way, because in her experience, other people are too quick to betray, especially when they sense that there is something to be gained from it. It is better, she wholly believes, to be alone than to be in company and then suddenly torn from it. The issue arguably stems from the loss of her parents, a blow from which she never fully recovered.

She would never admit it, but her complete solitude comes with an unwelcome consequence: loneliness. She is profoundly lonely, actually, so much so that she feels it even when in the company of a crowd, that distance she places between herself and others. She is elemental water, always flowing, always moving, and completely unattached to anything but herself. She is not meant to be held in place by the hands of another, and though in truth this sometimes seems for the best, it also creates a faint ache in her heart.

Though lacking in any lasting connection, she is generally speaking quite dynamic when interacting with other people. She favors sarcasm and snark, remarks with a little bite, and playful insults when they seem necessary. Her humor and apparent carelessness are fronts for the fact that she may in fact care too much, though she is lacking a place to channel that concern, and so for now, it goes nowhere. Charity and compassion are both somewhere in her nature, but are well-hidden by the veneer of standoffishness that her abrasive exterior generates. She is, to put it another way, tsundere classic, though it would be fair to say that the gentler aspect of her demeanor has not emerged in some years, so long that she is no longer certain if she even possesses it anymore. Inherently mistrustful of strangers, she is also very much a skeptic when it comes to the proclaimed intentions of other people, and deeply cynical about the morality of the world around her.

Her aloofness is sometimes misread as arrogance, but in fact the opposite is true. Stella deeply believes herself to be what she might term a freak of nature, and she is not especially happy about it. She has, at some point or another, felt inferior to other people in virtually every way, from the (true) fact that she is quite poor financially to the (untrue) belief that she is somehow monstrous due to her odd appearance and abilities. She doesn’t like using them, and generally endeavors to go around appearing as normal as possible, going so far as to dye her hair black and wear colored contact lenses so that her eyes appear brown instead of their actual hue.




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⌈Who would ever want to hear such an ugly story, anyway?⌋




⌈History⌋

Stella’s parents were among the successful samples from the first round of government genetic manipulation experiments. Both of them were highly efficient, weaponized people, with abilities far beyond the human norm, but they each had a singular, major flaw: they were capable of love. That flaw was their mutual destruction, for tools and assassins are not allowed such weak emotions as that. Fortunately, they were good enough at hiding it that they were able to escape their bounds, at least for a little while, long enough to have a child that they immediately passed off to her aunt and uncle, knowing that there was no way it was safe enough for them to raise her.

And they were right.

Stella grew up believing that her aunt and uncle were her parents and her parents were her aunt and uncle. She was ten when the latter were both disappeared—the colloquial term for what happens when people are kidnapped in the middle of the night, never to return. She has no idea what happened to them, only that they were there one day and gone the next. Her “parents” refused to speak of it, and though the incident was deeply distressing to her, she would not realize its true significance until ten years later.

In the meantime, she grew up more or less as other people did, hidden away from the government by a veneer so simple it was truly deceptive: her aunt’s stillborn child swapped with her at birth, and her resemblance to her relatives strong enough to pass, though she was habitually told to dye her hair black and wear brown contact lenses, both of which she still does, to attract as little notice as possible. She went to school, though she’d finished a college degree by the time she turned seventeen, the first and only indication she had that she was something other than normal until about a year ago. She was walking home one night from her job—despite the college degree, she works at nothing more complicated than a bookstore—when a small group of people attempted to mug her. Crime is rare, but not unheard of, given the steep punishments it carries. Whatever the case, they decided it was probably safer to kill her once they had her possessions, and that was when it happened.

The incident was dramatic enough to draw the attention of people living nearby, but she’s unsure any of them got a good look at her, because she has yet to be apprehended about it, nor indeed even questioned by anyone in relation to it, but she’s unsure how much longer that safety will last. She got the truth from her aunt and uncle, and has subsequently moved out of their home, not because she is upset with them, but to keep them as safe as possible. She’s been doing her best to learn to control her powers, but with nobody to learn from, it has been very difficult.




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⌈I’m a monster in human skin, but at least I’m nobody’s weapon but my own.⌋



So begins...

Stella Iaret's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Crux Character Portrait: Uno Summus Character Portrait: Stella Iaret
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⌈To me, there is nothing more important than family... ⌋

Without any hesitation present in his form, Crux directed himself to the Prime Minister's Office. At his presence, the receptionist made a move to inform him that the Prime Minister is not accepting any visitors at the moment. No unsolicited or surprised visitations were permitted without the personal authorization of the Prime Minister. "I apologize but the Prime Minister does not wish to be disturbed." However, he ignored the female's words and continued ahead. Seeing this defiance, the Warfelts who were stationed at the doors walked towards him. Implicating, that force might be used. Yet, this was thwarted when he effectively knocked the guards unconscious.

At the end of the day, Crux was completely on a different level against the normal foot soldiers of the government.

This initiated a standard reaction which labeled him as a hostile. Nevertheless, he was not bothered with the sound of alarms blaring. Nonchalantly, he approached the doors and opened it. "Tirion." His voice echoed into the hollow room as Hendrew and the others shielded the Prime Minister who was sitting calmly behind his desk. "Stand down Crux now." Still, this did not dissuade the man in question as he removed his helmet allowing his face to be fully viewed. "Leave us." This decision made Hendrew turned towards his superior in disbelief. "But Sir!" Yet, he was unable to continue his question as the Prime Minister gaze depicted that his order was absolute. "Understood." Hendrew then gestured for the others to leave the room.

And at the sound of the door being shut closed, Crux did not hesitate any longer.

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"Why did you do this?" There was a stern sense of betrayal yet a desperate hold to hope in those blue eyes of his. Furthermore, Crux was controlling himself very hard not to punch the man before him. As for the Prime Minister, he remained seated while placing down the documents he was reviewing on his table. Judging by the name he has been called, Crux has now remembered who he really is and their true relation. "It is my duty and you are not doing yours. I remember ordering you to eliminate the targets and they are still alive." Upon hearing this, Crux could not help but approach his desk and slammed his hands on it. "The only reason I am here right now is because of your orders. That is because I will not abandon my brother."

Mauve eye looked at the hands on his desk before tracing it back to Crux's face. The usual blank canvass which was an expression was now replaced with irritation mixed with a plea. It seemed his emotions had been restored completely as well. "Then do your mission, Teleus. Unless, you are unable to do so anymore." At this meaning, he presented Crux pictures of Project Zero and him walking along the streets with hands entwined. There was also an image where he held the android closely and kissed its nose. "This android is a government property and no matter what reason Solomon had. It is working against us. Deletion is its final path." Crux's hands were then turned into fists showing the difficulty of the order had brought upon him. This was the consequence of being a human tool.

"Do you love Solla?" The question did not surprise Tirion. To anyone who knows her existence, they would view his actions as something even more than duty. After all, he is not blind to the terrible doings she had done. Yet, he continues to protect her. "This has nothing to do with my emotions. They are but a hindrance which you are experiencing now. If you have nothing else meaningful to say to me, leave." Crux closed his eyes briefly and pulled away from the desk. It seemed this discussion would not warrant anything. "Understood. But, I won't go anywhere. I promise."

Soon enough, Tirion was left alone in the room as he leaned on his chair and released a heavy sigh. If it was his decision, he would have wanted Teleus or more known as Crux to abandon the orders, abandon him completely.


⌈And yet, blood does not equate to the most important things...⌋

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Tirion’s expression was of gentle sadness and captivated longing as he looked at the door where Crux had exited from. In truth, he was happy that his brother had been returned to him as he had been once. However, the actions and the lives that his little brother had taken during the duration which he had been bounded shall remind him the full consequences. At the very least, Tirion had wanted to spare Crux from such turmoil and allow that stigmata be passed onto him. But, it had already happened. There was nothing he could do anymore. And frankly speaking, he had enough with tampering with his own flesh and blood.

"Why did you do this?"

That was the question asked of him. All the things he had done at this point. They appeared to be self-centered and distinctively cold especially with his decisions in the general matters of running the domes. So, what was the reason which kept him going? What was the goal he desire to achieve? He closed his eye and softly muttered his answer, knowing no one will hear it. "To pay for my failures."

It was then he has been alerted by the intercom on his desk. "Sir, are you well?" He took a deep breath and returned to his normal self. "Yes, I am. Send the documents in regards of the birthday celebration." There was compliance to that order as the Prime Minister leaned to his chair again. It was his birthday or rather Teleus’. Though, it had become his when he took that identity.

But, he has this feeling it will be certainly different this time.


⌈For even water can become the sole source of life.⌋

For the past days, Uno went out on his own and did what was needed to be done. He did not even bother to fully explain the details of his plan. Though, he would send short messages that he is fine and all. This was for the benefit of Stella's constant yammering. Truly, there was no need to worry about his safety. He had always been the kind to survive any forms of danger, one way or another. Yeah, he does enter the occasional scuffle with the government agents. But, it was nothing that serious in his opinion. Moreover, his survival rate has increased since he had separated from the others.

For him, he has simply returned to the normal pace of his life before all of this haywire. In which, he had done jobs on his own resources and manipulation. And when done, he would get a big fat stack of money. But right now, this one he was working on had a different manner of reward.

In any case, he had finally arrived at the new safehouse. The Doc sent him the coordinates. So, it was not really that hard to find it. He had heard that the three of them, Cass, Stella, and that android chick were doing training simulations. Good for them, they would need everything they are able to do. Of course, that applies to him as well. They were going to infiltrate Central after all, the stronghold of the Government and Solla's core. To say that there would be resistance is an understatement.

They would certainly be in a fight for their lives along with that Cyborg which at the end was a loyal dog. Well, that was fine really.

He entered the building by entering the codes given to him. "I'm back, I guess..." Uno stated in a nonchalant manner as he closed the door behind him and began to walk through the halls. He walked much like as a feline without even a hint of sound. A habit, he had picked since he was a child. And at the corner of his eyes, he caught sight of Stella sleeping. Although, her expression was rather unpleasant. A bad dream, perhaps?

Grabbing a chair, he placed it in front of the couch. Then, he sat with an arm on top the backrest and observed her first. He was thinking how to wake her up, when she did that on her own.

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"Holla. So, you're up?" Uno greeted with his ever-usual mischievous smile. Yet if one would take a look again, his orange eyes seemed to hold a slight tinge of softness in them. "I was about to give you a kiss to wake you up."He tapped lightly on his lips and then peered closely to her face. "Have trouble sleeping? Bad dreams, maybe?" He queried as he pulled away, giving them a fair amount of distance from each other. "I guess it's time for Doc Summus' psychiatric therapy." He noted as he then without question closed the gap between them again with his forehead pressing against hers. "Tell me."

Setting

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Character Portrait: Uno Summus Character Portrait: Stella Iaret
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#, as written by Ion



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“For all the horrible things that have come out of this, for all the times I’ve cheated death
 am I crazy to think it was worth it, to have met you?”



It didn’t take long for her to become aware of his presence, and though her hand moved to cover her eyes for a moment as she sat up, Stella smiled, letting her hand fall from her face when he spoke. “I guess so,” she murmured thoughtfully. She scoffed at the thought that followed, raising a speculative eyebrow. “Promises, promises, Violet.” Her smile turned a bit teasing, but then she shook her head.

“Yeah, though
 I don’t know that I’d call them nightmares, exactly. They aren’t pleasant, and they usually end with me dying, but
 they feel different from dreams I’ve had before. Different from Solla’s illusions, too.” She actually thought the other woman had nothing to do with this, for once. She shut her eyes slowly when he leaned his forehead against hers, concentrating on the warmth of his skin. It grounded her in the present, in a way that she hadn’t realized she needed just now.

Doing so, however, also allowed her to play the images over in her mind, and she explained as they flickered over the backs of her eyelids.

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“They always start the same way. I’m completely alone, looking up at a sky. I think
 it must be sunset, but
 out there, because I’ve never seen that many colors at once. Only
 there are buildings and trees, in the same place, and the air, it’s
 better. Better than here, better than it was out there.” Her brows furrowed together, and she bit down on her lower lip, releasing a soft sigh.

“At first, I can’t see anyone, like the whole place is abandoned. I’m on the roof of some building, and I go inside, looking for anyone. At some point in the dreams, I started finding people eventually, but they never see me. It’s like I don’t exist to them. I’m not visible, not tangible, as far as I can tell.” Stella’s arms moved up, to loop loosely around Uno’s neck, and easy feat given his proximity. “How it happens is different every time, but
 I always get the feeling that something is watching me, and then chasing me, and I’m trying to get somewhere, somewhere specific where I think it’s safe. But I never make it.” She didn’t sound afraid, only sad. Certainly, it was just a dream, but
 at the same time, she did think it reflected some of her thoughts very well. And even that little bit of confirmation was unsettling.

“It doesn’t feel like a lie.”




“Blood isn’t the only thing. It might not even be the most important thing. But it does matter.”



Ilyana sighed, hoisting her bag a little higher on her shoulder. She’d just been in to make her report to Helena after a full day in the labs, and all she really wanted right now was a hot shower and something to eat before she fell asleep. For as tired as she was, though, she suspected she wasn’t half as exhausted as Helena. The woman never showed it and never admitted to it, but Ilyana had been her subordinate for long enough that she knew. Her boss was stretching herself very thin, perhaps because the entire government expected something to happen soon, something big.

But when she’d asked about it, Helena had only given her one of those thin, sad smiles, her eyes soft, and shaken her head. “I am always tired, Ilyana. That’s what happens when you are refuse, not meant to exist past your time.” It was an odd thing to say, and honestly, Ilyana hadn’t fully understood it. Perhaps she was referring to her tenure as Deputy Prime Minister, or her double-life, but she’d never heard Helena be so harsh with anyone as to refer to them as garbage, and not herself, either. Not until today. Something must be wrong with her.

Perhaps they were not friends, but Ilyana was sometimes a confidante of her boss, and she felt a great deal of concern for her, just as she felt it or Dietrich, and Solomon, wherever he was. And of course, she would always be worried about her—

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Something was wrong. Ilyana unlocked her apartment as normal, but the light was on in the kitchen, and she knew she had not left it so when she left for Central that morning. Unlike most people, who might have called the police, Ilyana was better-trained than any patrol officer by miles, and she reached into her purse for her gun, cocking the mechanism after switching the safety off. Silently, she crept through her home, the gun held steadily in front of her, arms slightly bent, her purse abandoned by the door as useless dead weight. She could smell something cooking, oddly enough, and the characteristic sounds of utensils on crockery.

“I see time with science hasn’t dulled your instincts,” a voice said from inside the room, and Ilyana darted around the doorway, knowing her stealth advantage was spent. The weapon was aimed perfectly for the intruder’s head—at least until she saw who it was. Then, despite all her training, her grip almost slipped, held steady only by long years of trained control and poise.

For the man who turned to face her had hair exactly the shade of hers, and eyes she knew better than her own.

“Hey, sis. Long time, no see.” He smiled a self-effacing smile, and she lowered the gun at last, slipping the safety back on.

“Mischa.”

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Uno Summus Character Portrait: Stella Iaret
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⌈There will always be an ending, no matter how hard we try...⌋

Dreams... Uno began to wonder when was the last time he had such things. It had been a long time. The last one was after meeting the Prime Minister for the first time. He pondered on the term 'monster'. But now, it had taken an entirely different matter. Anyway, that was not the topic at hand. It was about the recurring dreams Stella was having. Usually, it would be about an inevitable past or something like that. He did have one of those, but soon, it just vanished from his thoughts. Probably because, he just chose to feel nothing about it on the long run.

After all, humanity is said to be stubbornly resilient and adaptable. He just inherited that.

As for her, he has a faint idea. But, it was not certain really. All he had at this point are speculations. Still, they did have a deal. He was going to treat her as an adult. Though, it was bit hard to do that in another spectrum. "It was probably not." He stated in a nonchalant manner. This was not because he felt indifferent of her troubles. It was because that was fact he had formulated about recently. He then grabbed hold of the arms she had around his neck. Although, he did not attempt removing them.

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"I believe it is Pandora." It was a logical conclusion. Solla is being a power source, but was chosen for that. He got that from the angry declarations the girl had before. She denoted about them not knowing what she had to sacrifice. Judging by her tone, she was forced into that. Then, there is Stella's title as the Forbidden Heir. Yes, there is her power which is the antithesis, but she was also chosen by that mysterious power source. "You're the heir who would replace the reigning queen bee. You will be a new vessel. It's probably calling you." Taking a brief pause, his hold of her arms tightened a bit.

"It also means you'll share her fate." This was something he had derived from Solla's statements of desperation. The girl stated that she would not lose anyone anymore. Then, there was that tragedy. Actually, he had been researching about it. The more he understood the one they are meant to take up arms against, it would be for the better. But, information about her is nonexistent. It will not be surprising as she controls the Network. But, it did not prevent him to weave an incomplete scenario in his head through the small details he got.

"The domes had been up for 500 years more or less. It has been operational since that time. Solla has been living on her own for that long. But, I'm just guessing here." His orange eyes held a light of seriousness about it. He then pulled her closely to him as much as possible. "Never seen. Never known. All that knows you will eventually fade. And you will remain. Until another heir is chosen, probably." He then fleetingly placed kisses on both top of her eyelids. "I am telling you this because of your wish to me. In the end, it is your decision." That is true. What he said was not that far-fetched from the truth. It is why he had asked Solomon once if he could take her place and that favor he also hold over the Doc and Cass.

"When that does happen, no one, not even me can stay by your side forever. Do you understand?" Uno asked as he looked into her uniquely-colored eyes. Whether she liked it or not, she will be able to live long, but they, and him could not do that. Despite being a flower or whatever, he was still human in terms of a life-span.

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“How long is forever?”



It wasn’t exactly the kind of news that anyone wanted to hear, and much if it was still speculation, but Stella knew that he wasn’t the kind of person to sugar-coat the truth for her, and she’d always appreciated that about him, even when she’d been pretty sure she hated his guts. “It’s hard to believe she would want to keep it, if that’s what it did to her,” Stella mused, letting herself be moved closer to him, close enough that her body was sealed to his, with practically no space between them at all. She savored that warmth, perceptible even through the layers of fabric each of them wore.

Five hundred years
 it was an almost inconceivable length of time to live. Stella hadn’t even reached nineteen yet, though her birthday was within the month, she supposed. Everything that knew her would fade, as he’d put it. That included them, these people she’d come to care about, and him as well. He’d age, and die, and she’d be left behind, only to repeat the process if she ever made another connection with anyone, of whatever kind. In the end, she’d be alone, singular, by herself. Her heart ached for that, more than she ever would have expected—but in the end, it couldn’t matter. Or
 it could matter, and it did, but it could not and did not change her mind about what she needed to do. It was a pain she would bear for what needed to happen in the world. For everyone.

“I understand,” she murmured softly, leaning forward slightly to press her forehead into his shoulder. She stayed like that a moment, feeling a wave of vertigo wash over her—whether residual from her dream or just from truly comprehending the things she was being told, it was hard to say and probably didn’t matter. For that moment anyway he was her anchor, and she held tight to him, all the moreso for knowing she would lose this eventually.

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And then, still against his shoulder, she smiled and pulled back slightly, tipping her head back to look him in the eye again. Could you lose something you’d never had?

Was she willing to risk reaching out, when she knew she’d have to let go, all too soon?

“But you’re by my side now, aren’t you?” she asked, her voice just a bare whisper of sound. Her hands slid up, her fingers tangling in the silken, vibrantly-hued locks of his hair. Rising onto her knees, Stella drew level to his height, and when she spoke, her lips brushed his, just barely, as they formed the words. “So give me something that won’t fade.” Tilting her head to the side slightly, she leaned in the rest of the way and kissed him, slow and tender, nipping lightly at his lower lip.

“You said you wanted to twist me, right? Here’s your chance.”

It might be that she would be alone eventually, for centuries, even. But that was no reason to be lone right now. And for as long as he was here, as long as she could hold onto him, as long as he could be her anchor in the storm, she wanted that. Selfish, maybe, but she knew well enough that there was no making him do anything he didn’t want to. So
 even if she didn't know how he felt, even if there was no answer to that question, at least she knew that whatever he would do was only what he wanted. She told herself that was enough, and maybe it was even true.




“All I know is that any length of time can be made to feel like forever, if the pain is great enough.”



“You don’t seem that surprised,” her bother observed, but from the wry look on his face, he’d been expecting that. For a moment, he turned back to the food he’d raided her cabinets to make, plating up what appeared to be a chicken tikka and rice, among other things. She was pretty surprised to note that it looked and smelled absolutely delicious.

“When did you learn how to cook?” In their childhood, she’d been the one who did that, and he’d been pretty much a lethal chef, to be entirely honest. He chuckled at her, and it struck Ilyana that this was all far too surreal. She supposed she ought to shoot him; she knew very well that he worked for Solomon right now, and therefore against the very same government that she served. But it was impossible for her to seriously consider the thought. Never mind that she hadn’t seen him in years; he was still her brother, still one of the most important people in her life, and no amount of military training or loyalty could change that.

When they were done eating, Cass reached into his pocket and offered her a cigarette, taking one for himself as well. A habit they’d both picked up from their grandmother. Unfortunately, she’d preferred the old style ones, that actually had health risks, and in the end, they’d killed her. Mikhail had volunteered for the EDEN project to pay for the hospital bills that they had no other way to cover.

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“It’s not that I’m unhappy to see you, Mischa,” she started with a slight smile, sardonic in nature. They did really look similar with those expressions on their faces. “But why are you here? It’s a major risk, you have to know that.” Not for her—she was more than amply protected by Helena, who would understand why she didn’t kill her only remaining family right here and now, but for him
 who knew? He could be exposed by this.

“Actually
 Solomon has a message for your boss.” Ilyana was confused. If anyone could get a message to Helena covertly over technological lines of communication, it was Solomon. Perhaps he was a little busy to be hacking, or perhaps the information was simply so sensitive he simply could not take even the tiniest risk of being discovered by Solla. It was hard to say. She was slightly unnerved to know that Solomon was in communication at all with Helena, but maybe this was the first message. Perhaps that was even why she needed to be the one to deliver it personally.

“Okay
 I’m listening then.”

Several hours later, when Mischa had finally left, just as reluctant to depart as she was to let him, Ilyana slumped down onto the sofa in her living room.

That changed absolutely everything, didn’t it?

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Character Portrait: Uno Summus Character Portrait: Stella Iaret
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⌈If now is all we have, then I'll etched it to your very essence for there are things that shall not be forgotten⌋

Many would view his words harsh or even disconcerting to the fate of humanity. After all, it might push the girl in front of him to abandon the responsibility given without her knowledge. But, Uno truly could care less about people he has no dirt with. In his opinion, people survive even without all of this. If they don't, then perhaps it's just time for their kind to just be extinct. Isn't that was the Doc said with creation, yielding to preservation, and it succumbing to destruction? So really, it was fine with him if Stella chooses not to go through with it. She would just need to hide away from a place where Solla can't touch her.

But, she was not like that at all. He really find that trait of hers both annoying and admirable.

As of Solla's desire to live longer, Uno was not certain of her intention. Still, there was no doubt the her lonesome life had taken root in her which dictated her actions. Somehow in a sense, he believed that it was that sentiment which allowed the Prime Minister to have a semblance of control over her. To not lose someone again... To not be alone anymore... It made him wonder what kind of promises did that cyclops told her. But, that is what they can only do right, for such beings put into a role. It was the same for him as Stella asked him. That was right. He is by her side now.

Right now, he could make a promise to her. But, it goes against his nature not to take on something he can't win against.

This was rather interesting in more ways than one. Before, she had complained to him about stealing her first kiss and them debating that such actions were mere tools. In the end, she won the bet. However, he still believed that such gestures are tools. The only difference is how one uses it. She was currently using the tender kiss to express her desire on him. Really, this was something. She has no idea how hard he has been controlling himself as of late.

At the same time, Uno could not believe himself. Normally, he would not have a hard time having good times with the ladies. They were part of human need, the carnal pleasures, so to speak. Through all of that, he is able to pride himself never to lose in the heat through all of it. Yes, he will make them lose their minds in ecstasy, but it would not apply to himself.

It was not true Stella's situation. Uno could not help it as she even fed the roaring fire with those provocative words. He did say that he wanted to see her so twisted because of him. A smile so seductive was present on his lips and his eyes gleaming with unbridled desire. "I'll implant myself into every fiber of yourself." He started as he then put his arms around her hips and then lifted her up. It was not difficult as he then placed her on his lap in a series of fluid movements. "A mark that will never fade, so be prepared. I won't stop even if you beg for it."

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With that decided on his part, Uno placed a hand of his on her cheek and kissed her very deeply. Yes, she wanted him to treat her as an adult, right? Then, he will do so unrestricted. As for his other hand, it had managed to find its way under the fabric keeping him from directing her warmth directly. Eloquently tracing her curves with a trained finger, he soon ended the kiss as there was a need for air not on his part though. Following that, he trailed fluttering wet kisses from her neck towards her chest.

"I'll make you bloom just for me, Stella."

And yes, Uno would do that with such fervent passion and affection. Something, he had yet to explicitly put into words for her. But right now, he will show her how much he wanted her. A truth which he had given up hiding from her at this point. For in this moment, he will not stop until he was satisfied. Though, he has this notion inside of him that he will be get enough of her, never.

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“Sometimes in life, we must distance ourselves from those we love, because we love them.”



Helena’s finger delicately traced the rim of the wineglass, the liquid within a dark burgundy. It reminded her, for she was still able to remember, what other burgundy things looked like. Grapes, on the vine and not in a replicator machine. Unripe aubergines. Fabric dye in colors other than black, grey, and dark. Real sunset, near the end, when the purple faded out into the cast of evening.

Lifting the glass to her lips, she took a sip, letting the flavor roll around on her tongue. The Prime Minister’s birthday this year was winter-themed, and the climate manipulation technology of the domes had been adjusted so that it snowed in the botanical garden, where the event was held. To that end, many of the guests wore extra layers to protect themselves from the chill. Even she was draped in a hooded cloak, though underneath she had taken no special measures to keep warm. The climate didn’t affect her much, after all.

Helena watched the guests chatter to one another, all seeking something. Sometimes, they could name it. Sometimes not. It all boiled down to the same thing. They sought to survive. Beyond that, though
 they sought to bloom, to flourish. Once, they would have all withered, like fruit too long on a vine, but now
 well, they were alive at least. The time would come soon when they would have a choice: flourish, or perish. But that was as it should be.

She would normally have had to mingle with them as well, as the Deputy Prime Minister, but today, she was here as herself. It was common practice that, outside of Central itself, the four leaders of the government were never all in the same place. It was supposed to be her turn to sit out the event, while her three colleagues attended. But since she wasn’t here as Helena Ashworthy, there were perhaps six people in all the world who would know that in fact all four of them were together right now. Pursing her lips together, the spring-haired maiden shook her head slightly.

Stella was not the only one getting dreams. They were all having them, probably. She certainly was. Her dreams were usually tank dreams, of a time so long ago that the only one left who remembered it was she. Not even Solla understood the tank, and what had come after.

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That was for the better. Neither of them should have to understand that. No one should have to understand that. Those things were her secrets, and part of the reason Helena was so good at finding out other people’s secrets was because she was even better at hiding her own.

Tilting her hand back and forth, she swirled the dark wine in her glass, dipping a fingertip into it and withdrawing it, watching as the liquid beaded together and, growing too heavy, fell from her digit and onto the snow beneath her feet, red staining the perfect blanket of white. It was only an illusion anyway. Nothing had ever been so perfectly clean as that. Snow was only white because it had forgotten how stained it was. Humanity was the same.

And yet, more than anything, she had wanted to save them. Even though it had made her into this.

She raised her wine-stained finger to her mouth, swiping it along her tongue, and then dropped the hand.

This was only the calm before the storm.

And she would be here soon.




“I don’t believe that. Until the day I have to let go
 until then, I am keeping what I love as close to me as I can.”



“I guess this is it, huh?” Stella glanced to the others beside her, all in disguise as of now. They were just about to exit the car to head right into Central, to the Prime Minister’s birthday party, apparently, and all of them were in disguise. Herself, Violet, Cass, and Darcia. Linked into them via wireless communication—off-Network, obviously—was Solomon, and he’d assured them that he’d received confirmation this morning that they would be allowed past security. What happened after that, according to the contact, was up to them.

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And indeed, they were all scanned and vetted by security, their false names and identities checking out. They were all various dignitaries of one sort or another, important enough to be invited, not important enough for the Prime Minister to know personally. It would enable them the right mix of anonymity and belonging. They were ushered through and into the botanical garden, where it was apparently snowing. Well, winter was almost upon them, after all, though it was a little extravagant, considering.

A cursory scan did not immediately reveal the Prime Minister. Perhaps he had yet to arrive?

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⌈Asking for forgiveness is an act reserved for humans, never for someone like me...⌋

An inevitable confrontation, as many would say. This meeting between him and the precious brother of the Prime Minister. Although, it would not appear so if one judged through the experiences that Crux had been put through without full and proper consent. Caine had been informed by Teleus that the memories and emotional capacity had been restored at 100% functionality. As a government agent, it was terrible. As a human, it was good.

On his opinion as Crux's commanding officer, this was unacceptable and should be promptly rearranged into the former psyche. As for his personal belief, he was completely fine with such matters. No matter the circumstances may be, a human should still be a human. Even if the situation presented around them were not favorable to such means. Though, he had expected for Crux to leave this side and join the others. For in anyone's eyes, what has happened to him was betrayal. Knowing him, Crux is highly displeased with such acts.

Image"What do you intend to do, Crux?" Caine queried as his eyes gazed unflinchingly towards Crux. There was no apprehension in his face. To protect the domes and its inhabitants, he is willing to do anything to ensure that. "Are you asking forgiveness from her?" His eyes slowly drifted to the marker with the abundance of flowers about. The Prime Minister had made it to a point that Dr. Yume Kisaragi's tomb is always surrounded by such. He had come here to place a bouquet of purple carnations as requested by Teleus and as a way of respect to the deceased Madame Blossom. "Let me rephrase that. Do you want to be forgiven?"

ImageThat query made Crux stop from his tracks. Actually, he was about to leave when the General had arrived. Giving just a nod out of politeness, he did not bother for a conversation. It would be pointless knowing the affiliation the man has with his brother. But... "There is no forgiveness. That things I did was still my own." Despite his emotions being restrictive and even to the point his memories manipulated, the deeds he had done were out of his own comprehension and decision. It was still him in a sense. "She... Dr. Kisaragi had always been kind." The first time he met her, then again as a Crux, and then as her Death. She has never failed to be kind to someone like him. "I believe she is the one responsible for the outside attack in my systems."

Caine agreed on that part. Dr. Kisaragi was a very gentle soul, but nonetheless strong. "She is something else... Will you still abide by your orders?" During the entire exchange, Crux did not look at the General. And, this was the same even now. The question posted to him was also asked of him by his brother. "I'll share his fate whatever it is." That is all he stated as he finally walked away from the place. As for Caine, he watched the boy's fading form before taking a look at Yume's tomb. There was a lovely glass of a jasmine blooming tea. He lowered himself to the ground and placed the bouquet near it. "Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum, aren't they?"


⌈So, don't waste your mercy or your charity...⌋

The day had finally come. This was going to be the last encounter, so to speak. It should be, they were going to rattle the government along with Solla right here at their headquarters, the Central. Usually, Uno does not give a damn about the birthday celebration of the Prime Minister. He could not even see the sense of celebrating someone's birthday really. But now, he was paying attention to it one way or another and was also going to give the man a gift. Though, he doesn't care if the Prime Minister doesn't like it or not.

No take-backs. No refunds.

"You got this." Uno noted as he heard Stella's query. It was an affirmation from his part that he would be counting on her. For at the end of the day, this entire plan is hinged on her success of taking control from Solla. In any case, he was now donning a different mask once more. This identity had been given by Solomon. Well, he didn't mind. It was fine for others to do the needed details for entrance sometimes. "Time to show them a real party."

Then, they got out of the car.

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Their identities were cleared and this was all due to Solomon's contact. And, they were now inside the aforementioned birthday bash of the Big Boss. "Well, Cheerio then, you guys know what to do." Uno gave them a small wave as he went on his way. And when he was on his own, people slowly gathered around him. It was not surprising. He is the kind that stands out and has a rather amiable presence about him. There was also the fact he was rather beautifully handsome in his current appearance. Furthermore, he seems to be enjoying the attention especially from the female populace.

But of course, Uno was still here to work. And work, he will.

From the corner of his eyes, he took notice of a hooded woman. Yet, it was only briefly as his attention shifted to the one standing sternly at the corner of the room. All eyes drifting towards the direction in wariness and question. No doubt, that individual did not get the memo about formal wear. But, it was easy to identify on his part. It was the elusive GHOST turned Cyborg, Crux as the man goes by nowadays. Uno knew that Crux will be here. The man has the penchant for thinking in advance. If the tin man still wants to carry out the order, this will be the predicted placed where he could rid all of them.

Though, he wondered if that could be properly carried out. As, he noted the presence of Solomon's daughter.

His attention shifted once more when the music was taken away and lights dimmed. It seemed the man of the hour has finally made his appearance. Well, that didn't take too long.


⌈For a being who does not hope any longer.⌋

As the grand doors opened, the Prime Minister in his full regalia entered the scene. The falling snow contrasted his black ensemble brilliantly. His presence had been announced clearly and with great respect. Following behind him, his elite guards, Warfelt, along with its Captain Hendrew. Other than that, it was not surprising to see the Supreme General by his side as well. It is said that among his Triumvirate, the Prime Minister has great confidence to the General Caine Abernatty.

Yet of course, there was more to that confidence part.

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Walking among the parted crowd, the guests offered their greetings of Happy Birthday. Teleus, as he is known, gave the occasional nod and at times opened his mouth to speak gratitude ever briefly. He was bit late in attendance due to the matter of Solla. The girl had been insistent on coming to the party. However, he did not permit her. And thus, she made him promise to sleep with her again. Of course, he agreed to that condition. Caine had been there with him and commented afterwards, that Solla has been asking.

"She has been asking that even when you stay by her side. You do not do anything beyond embracing her. You won't even kiss her."

Solla had become more sensitive in her way of thinking. Ever since, Crux had been taken away from her grasp. Furthermore, he had implied to her that Crux would not be returning to her side until the order of elimination is done. Though, she had persistently asked for her to make Crux hers again. At those times, he stood by his order. Good enough, she would be satisfied if he spent more time with her. For at the end, her interest on Crux was mainly because of him. The emotion prevalent over Solla was simple in nature yet complex in its effect. This was even asked of him by his little brother.

"Do you love Solla?"

Love... Such a simple word with compounded revelations. It was the sole thing which makes everything around them makes sense. That was also true for his part. Something, he would admit only to himself. For in the end, he is supposed to be a person untouched by the trivialities of feelings. Yet, his mauve eye caught sight of a spring-haired maiden. His attention trailed on the figure longer than anyone else. That is right, he was also enthralled bu that simple word. However, he looked away and climbed up the created stage.

It was because there was something needed to be done. Going to the podium, he stood there with a poise expected of someone of his prestige and status. His eye scanned the crowd noticing the man in black suit armor. That is right. This birthday will be interesting indeed.

"My guests and esteemed colleagues. I thank you for your attendance to celebrate my birthday..."

His speech continued on like that. As a pair of golden eyes looked upon the hall, it cannot be denied. She is near as Pandora calls

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“And here we are again, at the beginning of the end.”



Darcia observed the goings-on at the party from her updated stealth mode, which was designed to fool even echolocators and heat-sensors. Basically any form of visual or auditory detection, which meant her only need in the present moment was to avoid bumping into anyone or anything, a task that was almost humorously easy for her. Per her instructions, she was to spend phase one of the mission in an observational state, until she was given the signal.

The disguised Uno and Cass were receiving a fair amount of female attention, but they were not the only ones. The three identities Solomon had been able to guarantee for the evening were all male, though one of them was thankfully below average height and rather slim, and so for the occasion, Stella had infiltrated as a male, and she too was drawing the attention of partygoers in the vicinity, though she seemed much less sure of how to handle it than either of the other two.

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Of course, this only seemed to make things worse. Darcia didn’t claim to understand it, but humans were a strange species, and she may never fully comprehend why they did the things they did.

It didn’t take her long to spot the figure in black armor, either, and a shudder moved down her spine, though the cause of it was not fear, properly called. Rather, it seemed to be something else, something equal parts anticipation and dread. It would have to be her, of course—none of the others were equipped to deal with him, and in truth, she would not want them to. This, however it ended
 it was theirs to end. Even if neither of them wanted that.

Darcia stopped in an empty area, eyeing her familiar surroundings and deciding that the most tactical location at which to begin would be the high ground. To that end, she swiftly and silently made her way over to one, jumping from a dead standstill with nothing more than a slight passage of air. It was masked by the ambient breeze anyway, which no more than a minute later started to pick up, slowly but steadily, carrying with it a chill and increased snowfall. The signal.

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She looked down to where the disguised Cass was making no attempt to conceal himself any further, and the screen behind the makeshift stage platform flickered and distorted until in place of the images that had once been there was the logo of a flame, symbol of Prometheus, and now their group as a whole. The media had branded them the Insurgency, and that worked well enough for their preferences, their real faces, minus Solomon’s, splashed over the pages of every newspaper. It was actually, Cass had told her, to their benefit that this was so, at least in one sense. The media coverage, their names in print
 it legitimized them, make them real to a populace who might otherwise never know of them.

Raising one hand to his lips, Cass gave a loud, shrill whistle, drawing immediate attention to himself. “I hear you lot have an insurgency problem these days,” he said, once everyone was looking at him. Then he spread his arms wide, as if presenting himself to his audience. “Well
 here’s one. Down with the domes, and all that.” He cocked an eyebrow, flashing a devilish smile, pretty much daring every soldier and security officer on the premises to come after him.

And that was when the gunfire began.

On the other side of the botanical garden, Helena sighed softly, thin, pale hands, almost as white as the snow itself, reaching up to lower her hood.

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She knew what was coming. And despite the fact that she knew this was what needed to happen, she could not help but wish that it would happen differently. But it was too late for such appeals. They had all made their commitments, and though her heart ached for it, the circumstances themselves remained unchanged. This was how it had to be.

“So it begins,” she murmured to herself.

“The End.”

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⌈ I am selfish to desire nothing more but myself
 ⌋

As predicted, the targets had appeared. It was clear that their objective is the revelation of the truth and to be free from the grip of the Network or more accurately, Solla. Their best chance to accomplish that was this event where infiltration would be easier. Though, Crux did not have doubts about the security at Central to detect even minute anomalies. This only meant that there was a helper inside. Very typical. In any case, he stopped his curiosity at that point.

Echoes of gun filled the hall. Immediately, the security personnel took the safety of the guest, dignitaries as highest priority. The Warfelt encircled the Prime Minister quickly who was at the podium about to be done with his speech. General Abernatty delivered swift orders for evacuation and containment of the felon who invited trouble so openly. Clearly, this served as a distraction. With that thought, Crux widened the aspects of his searching and identification capacity.

Where are the others?

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Rising to the ground, Crux began to hover. Instead of his signature guns, he had procured the newest creation rifle which he carried. He assessed the situation in complete calmness despite noticing the futile attempt of the military guards to subdue the infiltrator. It seemed he would need to even the grounds a bit. Without a moment too soon, he fired the rifle at the corners of the botanical garden. Its ammo released small circular devices floating in mid-air. "Zero Zone activated." After saying that, the floating devices resonated with each other and cased the entire gardens in a transparent shielding. All sorts of supernatural abilities had been neutralized.

And this time, Crux pointed the gun at the instigator. At the end of the day, it was easier for him to follow orders than not. He then pulled the trigger allowing the bullet to travel to its intended target.


⌈For it is the thing without risk and with sufficient reason that will lead me...⌋

The reaction was swift in terms of his guards. Hendrew had already prepared a safe passage for him to go through. However, Teleus had something different in mind. His mauve eye searched through the panicking crowd who were being evacuated. It seemed that this birthday celebration would not be forgotten. Well, it was not a bad thing, perhaps to be remembered always. In line with that though, his eyes caught the sight of brilliant green. Yet, it did not linger as there was really need to do so. He also caught sight of Crux gaining a vantage point by flying towards the ceiling.

"Sir! You must go now!"

ImageTeleus looked at Hendrew before noticing a sight of someone meshing through the raging crowd and leaving the pack on his own. He has a good idea where that person would be going or would be looking for. "Captain. I want a full evacuation and lock down of Central." Hendrew nodded in affirmation. "Understood, please come this way, Sir. We must secure your safety" Teleus shook his head. He was not going anywhere with them. It is a fact that the place he wants to go to was not for them to accompany him. "Leave me." The Warfelt Captain widened his eyes at this and raised a complaint. "But Sir!" And once more, Teleus silenced him with a deadly glare. "You have your orders."

Begrudgingly, Hendrew nodded while clenching his fist tightly. "As you wish." He then gestured for the others to follow the Prime Minister's orders. But before he did so, he told the one he was assigned to protect one more thing. "Stay safe, Sir." Then, they were off as Teleus had a brief look in his eye which could be equated to sadness. Whether what for, it cannot be answered by anyone but him. "Caine." He called out to his confidante. "I am going. Handle the others."

Image"I know." Caine stated as acknowledgement while the Prime Minister left the hall. There was nothing else left to say between them. These things had been decided by them a long time ago. And from that point, there was no going back. Even if... He had wanted for that stubborn King to do so. "A promise, isn't it..." With that floating thought, he drew out his gun. "Mikhail Golikov. Stella R. Iaret. Uno Summus. Project Zero. Solomon Engels. I will only say this once." This is him playing his rightful role.

"Surrender now and no harm will come to you. But if not," Those eyes of him narrowed at a very dangerous angle. "You will be executed right here for sedition." His voice carried such an intimidating tone so different from his usual cool and collected manner. Even the guards under his commandment could not help but feel tension. "Either way. I will not allow you to interfere." That was then, Caine glanced above seeing Crux already joining the fray. Impatient as always, in a different sense. After doing so, he looked at the instigator and lazily gazed at another individual who he perceives to be Stella in hiding. "Your choice."


⌈To a place where the deepest desire of my mind...⌋

Uno had managed to slip from the hall. He was going to find where Solla is. It was rather hard to get a read on Central as it is shielded from such scans outside. Though, it is a different matter when done inside. He did not mind removing his disguise as he continued to walk through the hallways of Central. In his hand, he was accessing his HUD as a detection device. If Solla is a power source, all he had to do was search for a power signature above normal levels or an area without it.

This was a bit hard since this place was gigantic. Really, Uno would like to remind them that not everything big is really convenient. Of course, he could complain but, it does give the job more color. As for the others, they were already adults. They could handle themselves. Actually, there were a lot of things going through his head. But, he chose to set it aside. It was not the right time to have doubts or questions about his actions or even more so emotions. All he had to be concerned about is to find Solla's location.

And finally, he did locate an area which has such low power levels. Though, that was not clincher for him. In fact, it was because of a presence of someone standing before him donned in black regalia, the makings of a Prime Minister. "Prime Minister Teleus King or should I say, Tirion King, SEED Experiment 000." His face remained untouched but his tone was wrapped with vindictive malice. Why not? The Supreme General may be the hand in what occurred around him, but this guy was certainly the brain behind it all whether it was done out of necessity. It does not mind he could be angry.

Yes, Tirion is his name. It had been quite a while since anyone called him that. Regardless, he would not allow any of them to enter through the doors behind him. This is something he had committed himself towards to. And, nothing could change that. Sensing, the man was alone. It was rather arrogance, necessary, or desire. He was leaning towards the latter part. Somehow, he has a sense of what Uno wanted to do. Thus, he spoke to convey many meaning into one. "You will not be enough."

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Uno snorted at this statement. The first time he had met the Prime Minister, he felt he had met a monster. But... "You might be surprised." He procured his sword which had been carefully hidden and unsheathed it. "This time, I will kill you." Those eyes of him narrowed with such seriousness. Holding his sword, he readied himself for a rather difficult battle. But, that was fine. There is always payment for one's hard work. Isn't that what they say? In addition, he was after all in the end like him, a monster.

With that, Uno dashed forward as the fight between them started.


⌈And my soul will show that my dream is real.⌋

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Behind the doors, Solla was lying upon her bed. Her eyes of gold gazing at the ceiling with an unfathomable distance. It was like she was seeing something yet nothing at the same time. There was a certain ache deep inside of her. She could feel its wish to leave her behind, to discard her like a worthless doll. Really, she was fine with that. At some other moment in time, she would not deny that she would need to come to an ending. That was inevitable. In her long life, it was the one thing she had been certain of.

Yet right now, Solla wants to fight it with everything she got. She did not want to end, to disappear, to be left alone in darkness with no return. So, she will not give in. He was also fighting to stay by her side, right? Nothing else mattered at that. She will kill Stella. If that girl dies, she will not be tormented of her demise and the thing which had cursed and blessed her will remain. With that decision, she slowly sat up. It was time to end everything once and for all.

In any case, they did make everything easier for her. Solla did not need to search or to exhaust much of her focus in looking for them. She then stood from her bed. Power surges began to happen at all of the domes. The air itself seemed to have been given an electrifying spark as they sizzle erratically. The last time she had encounter them they desire to wake up from this dream. Well, she would grant that to them. There was another way of waking up and that is to... "They just need to die."

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“The thing about cycles is that in the end, they always return to the beginning.”



Cass didn’t have much issue deflecting the standard military’s bullets. After all, it was the case that he had been training against things like this for years, longer than either of the other two had even had a concept of their power. Experience wasn’t everything, of course, but it definitely counted for something. Tiny, precise pockets of air caught the bullets, most of them reversing direction, firing back at those who had shot them. He aimed for arms, hands, things vital to fighting but not vital to life, and any who remained conscious were swiftly knocked out by the deft application of vibrating blades of air molecules. Some of them even had the breath stolen from their lungs.

This was all until Crux fired off some kind of special shot, something that Cass could feel dampen his powers. He was ready to push back against it when it seemed almost to lift on its own, as though some other force were acting upon it, dissipating the field as though it were harmless. The field was likely derived from something Solla could do, so unless Stella was somehow managing
 but no, she seemed to have her own problems at the moment, so it wasn’t her. Maybe Solomon was hacking and disabling in a technological fashion? It seemed unlikely. Even he couldn't figure out something that complicated quite so instantaneously. It didn’t even seem conscious, rather natural, like a counter-field was simply already present somewhere.

He didn’t have any more time to think about it, though, as there was a well-aimed bullet flying for his forehead, and the field wasn’t lifting quickly enough.

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Fortunately, the bullet never reached him, sliced apart in the air by an invisible force, just as rapid as any of his winds. The action broke the cloaking field over the one responsible, and thereby revealed that standing in front of him now was a figure encased head to toe in black and purple, metallic blades attached to each of its forearms. From the small stature of the armored figure, it could only be one person, and indeed, he knew exactly who’d saved him.

“Your foe is only this one.” Her voice—steady, certain—left no room for debate on the identity of the armored person. It could only be Darcia, but not as any of them had ever known her. This was not Project Zero. She was beyond a prototype now. She was Project One, the stage of first bloom, black lily, and if there was any technology in the world which could exceed what Dietrich and Solla had made of Crux, it was what Solomon had made of his own daughter. Of course, in practice it still remained to be seen what would happen. Real life results were by nature messier than those given by specifications and laboratory results, and this was Darcia’s very first field test.

She propelled herself forward with blinding speed, swinging the blade attached to her left arm for Crux’s shoulder, her expression impossible to discern underneath the visor of the armor.

These actions separated them from the rest, and it was the disguised Stella and Cass that remained to face the Supreme General. Considering the fact that the damper on their abilities was now fully lifted, still by he knew not what, it wasn’t going to be much of a fight unless something about it changed, and it was as if on this cue that another figure approached. This was one that Cass had never seen in his life before, and she moved unhurriedly up to stand next to the Supreme General with a slight, enigmatic smile on her face.

“Fragment of Creation.” The mechanically-distorted voice was the one belonging to Prometheus, but the girl’s smile inched a fraction wider, as though hearing the voice of a friend.

“And hello to you as well, Solomon.” She may indeed have never loved him, but she did like him. He was exactly the kind of person who deserved to live in the new world he wanted to usher in. “But really, you needn’t be so formal. I am called a great number of things
 Lotus, Anesidora, Helena... but I’m not too picky, in truth. Call me as you will.”

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She tossed her head, freeing it from the confined of the cloak she’d been wearing, and studied the both of them for a moment. “Caine is not wrong. This is not a fight we will simply walk away from. We have made our choices. All that remains is for you to make yours.” Her expression and voice both were characterized by a kind of softness neither of the two people in front of her were expecting.

They both also could not deny a strange feeling of connection with this woman, and Cass surmised that it must be she who was effortlessly repelling the attempt to dampen the supernatural powers in the area. Perhaps fitting, if she was really this Fragment of Creation Solomon had mentioned. As Solla seemed to negate them, Helena simply brushed that aside, as though the very same power were just welling from her, inexorably and unconsciously, as life spreads forth from a point of genesis, or a flower blooms ever outwards. Fitting, then, that she should be shaded with the colors of spring.

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“You say you’ve made your choices,” Stella replied even as the electricity began to flicker. Erratic currents of it seemed to jump from conduit to conduit, but even inwards, as though they were being drawn towards her body. A few even struck her, but they seemed only to be absorbed, rather than cause her any harm or pain. Her head was lowered slightly, fixed on a point on the ground somewhere between herself and Cass and those two.

“Well
 so have we. Sedition or not, insurgency or not
 this is the path we choose. So I will only say this once.” She raised her head to look them both in the eye in turn.

“I don’t want to kill you. Not now, not ever. I don’t believe you’re bad people. But you will stand aside, or I will remove you.”

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Character Portrait: Crux Character Portrait: Darcia Character Portrait: Uno Summus Character Portrait: Stella Iaret
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⌈ I know that hoping had always been a lost cause
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As the curtains had been lifted, it revealed an individual that became detrimental to his so-called awakening. There was no factor which could conceal the identity of the one donned in black and purple to his eyes. For at some period, they were partners and probably an effective one. Crux would not deny that fact or the earnest desire not to see her again. Having returned to his state of humanity , there had been indeed a lot of complications specifically emotional and moral ones. Yet, he did what he is best for. Ignore. It was not hard judging by the long portion of his existence tied to such activity.

Nevertheless, did he not tell her? The hope they would not cross paths again. But, it was a vain thing to say isn't it? He did speak as well to trust and to believe in herself no matter what. It had been clear to him from the very beginning that she is a gentle one. Someone forced to do things by mere protocols. Perhaps, he had been viewed the same. Yet, that was not entirely true. As a result, they would eventually clash. He who is bound and her who is not. Still, this is a good thing. She was not simply an android anymore who would only follow orders. Right now, she had decided on a path.

And truthfully, Crux is proud of her.

Now, there is only one thing left to do.

"Come then." This was his answer to her declaration of being his foe. His tone and voice did not reveal anything beyond his common crisp, distant, and cold approach in all things. Because at this very moment, Crux was but a tool of the government. As long as he views himself as that, there will be no hesitations. Furthermore, he will be able to do as he promised.

And with that, she dashed towards him with a speed that he had a hard time to track down. It would seem she had been upgraded by her father. As such, he adjusted his reflexes to cope up at an instant. Thus, the blade aimed for his shoulder had been blocked by his rifle. He pushed it away forcefully and then he delivered a roundhouse kick to the side of her torso. After doing so, he even procured a globular device on one of his hand and released it into the air. This object shattered and targeted her with highly concentrated diamond-laser, in an aurora of lights.

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With that, Crux distanced himself from her. He pointed his rifle at her. At this moment, he could not afford to use his destructive attacks. There was the Supreme General and the citizens of Vie to be concerned about. Furthermore, the power propelling most of his techniques had been temporarily disabled. So, he would satisfy with this one for now. Beneath his helmet, the ice blue eyes of his had an white under-glow depicting an activation. His eyes narrowed with purpose as he pulled the trigger which carried two armor-piercing bullets with a twist. Trajectories were her head and chest.

That is right. He is still able to take life no matter who they are. No doubt. So...

"Give up on me."


⌈Because, I am bounded by this fate which will only have one ending...⌋

Willful.

Idealistic.

Passionate.

Honestly, Caine felt a bit tired in the face of such vigor. As the saying goes, in with new out with the old. An appropriate remark at this very moment. However, there are always two faces on a coin and many facets to reality. To bring about change, there will always be a need for a catalyst and then a reaction which will determine whether it would prove sufficient or not. This was simply how it is. He remembered how it was back then for him and Teleus. How hard they had to work to obtain what they had believed in. And so, the same thing will be applied to this scenario again.

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"A child. Only a child will say such things. " It would be fine if this world was honey-coated and full of dazzling rainbows. But, it was not even if the reality they all shared was built in the foundation of lies. "You have been given a chance. I have my orders and duties to uphold." This was the clear line between them. Caine will not betray the cause of the government and especially the oath he had made to the man known as the Prime Minister. His heart and soul will always be tied in that twisted web they had created through the years. Though, he did find a sanctuary of his own when the fatigue gets to him.

Though, Caine does wonder for Teleus. There was the Dr. Kisaragi but even then, it was different. Glancing momentarily to his side, he was not surprised by such an appearance of the woman, mainly known to him as Helena. He had been told by Teleus that the female was a chameleon and that was a sad existence in a way. There was nothing further and he did not pry anything on that matter. As long as she does her duties, it was fine with him whatever she could be judging by how she was called as Fragment of Creation. "I do hope you still have that envelope with you." That was all he stated towards her as he returned his attention to the rebels, so to speak.

Caine raised his gun and pointed it at Stella. "Let us get this done early. I do have to get home to my twins to tell them their bedtime story. Kill them." With that, he made the first shot as the soldiers and others who had come additionally began their assault once more.


⌈Yet, I still wanted to meet you hoping for a change but unfortunately, all I could do is stay at this side of the tree always.⌋

For someone who had been catered and entitled with a personal death squad and bodyguards, Uno was surprised at the physical prowess Tirion was showing and able to do. All of his attacks were effectively dodged as if his moves are already known before they were even enacted. Well, it should be expected as he recalled his cyborg brother. They must have shared the same basic qualities of someone meant for combat. Although, it was not the only thing they seem to have similarities with. They both are able to be a pain in the ass for him. Brothers, they truly are.

"So, what's your plan? Tire me to death?" Uno noted as he swung his blade at the right side of Tirion's face. Its aim was to land a fatal cut. However, the blade was stopped as Tirion held the blade in between his index finger and thumb. Seeing this, Uno placed more force in that swing. And yet, it would not move. No wonder that General guy told him that the Prime Minister would be the strongest enemy they would ever face. This guy was not even breaking a sweat or using his ability and was driven by a purpose he could only touch the surface of. It seemed that Uno would need to use his though.

With a sleight of hand, his other hand was cut as blood formed and turned into a crimson sword. Uno then used this to deliver another blow from the opposite side. Tirion did not budge instead held that bloody sword in place. Finally, they were using their powers on one another. "I see you have taken me seriously now." He then used the fact that Tirion holding him in place through his weapons to use it as a platform and raised himself a bit to deliver a front kick with both feet. Believing it to land, however, it met air as Tirion stepped back and released both weapons from his grip.

Afterwards, Tirion launched an invisible shockwave which Uno blocked in mid-air with his swords. However, it was stronger and different from what he had expected. He was literally thrown across the hallways like a rag doll before being slammed down to the cold floor, with his face first. His bloody sword crumbled into a pool and his other was away from his hand. Speaking of which one of his hand was now pinned behind him.

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Tirion stepped on it with his foot while picking up Uno's sword along the way. "I am always serious. You are the one who is not." His purple eye looked at Uno who looked over his shoulder, with displeasure and an edge of harsh truth. "What do you hope to protect with such weak resolve?" After saying that, he raised the sword in his hand as its edge aimed at the portion where Uno's heart should be. "This flower has now wilted." And with that, he plunged the sword downward without hindrance.

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Character Portrait: Crux Character Portrait: Darcia Character Portrait: Uno Summus Character Portrait: Stella Iaret
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“I am sorry
 but I do not know how to give up.”



Even as the fight progressed, Darcia showed no interest in attempting hits that would be fatal, nor indeed even close. If anything, every stroke she made was precisely calculated just so that even if it landed in the worst possible way, it would do nothing more than incapacitate. The reason for this was simple enough—she wanted to stop him from interfering in what the others were doing, because she believed it was right. But she also did not want to hurt him in any lasting way. How could she? She loved, him, after all.

Twisting out of range of the kick, she nevertheless jumped back when the light-grenade was released, Raising her armored arms to protect her helmet as the fragments issued from it bounced harmlessly off the metal. It was built to withstand assaults even of this kind, after all, but she did still want to be able to see what was going on around her, to better calculate her best courses of action.

“Oracle Engine, activate. Sixty percent output.”

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Behind her tinted visor, Darcia’s eyes lit up with every color of the cosmos, a stunning visual effect that was nevertheless far from purely cosmetic; the various filters allowed her optical sensors to perceive not only the full range of color from infrared to ultraviolet, eliminating all light- and darkness-based interference, but they actually caught her optical sensors up with her processing power, meaning she was able actually see probability projections generated by her cognitive capacity as though they were right in front of her, and react. It was, in a very real sense, like seeing the future before it happened. Not long before; a few seconds at most, but definitely enough to constitute a significant advantage.

When the armor-piercing rounds were fired, then, she identified their capabilities and trajectories, swinging the blade attached to her arm to slice the first in half right in the air. The second one, however, she made only the slightest of moves to avoid, and the round ended up hitting a more vulnerable point in her armor, beneath her heart and between her lungs, though it passed out the other side without hitting her spine. It was very much a non-fatal wound, but blood welled from it all the same, the odd reddish-purple color of it familiar to her but highly atypical. She could have avoided the hit, but she had not.

She did not give an immediate explanation of the reason for this, however, and instead retracted the helmet of her armor, blinking her omnihued eyes with a soft smile on her face.

“I could never.”




“Because giving up is admitting defeat and one such as yourself should never do that.”



“Wrong.” Stella clenched her jaw, glaring the Supreme General down as though she were born without fear. “It is not a childish way of thinking, to see the value in human life and want to preserve it. What is childish is buying into your own stories. Believing that in order for something new to bloom, something old must die. Believing that nothing can change, only be supplanted. Black and white is a child’s view of the world. It’s not me or you. It’s us. All of us. It always has been.”

The lights around them continued to flicker, the erratic pulsing slowing and steadying, as though in time with something they could not hear. It was a strong thrum, the flickers in pairs, with a little more space between them. Like a rhythm, or
 “Her heartbeat,” Helena murmured, studying Stella. Without even being quite aware of it, she was bringing the power of the domes under control, synchronizing it with her body’s natural rhythms in a way that neither she herself nor Solla had ever been capable of. For them, it was an alien entity as much as it was part of them. But for Stella, a being both genetically engineered and naturally born of the human selection process of love, it was almost a perfect match.

She saw no need to answer Caine’s question as such; he knew as well as she did that that envelope had never left her from the moment she received it. Helena was rather unpredictable, but the one thing she could always be predicted to do was whatever Teleus asked of her.

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Stella would not deny that, even as they opened fire on her, there was a part of her that would be fine killing them all, even as they seemed to have no issue killing her. She was, after all, supposed to be the monster here, wasn’t she? But that part of her was small, and easily quashed by the part of her that really did believe everything she said, about the lines being not so sharply divided between one side and another. All of them were just shades of grey, some lighter or darker than others, but not so different after all. She knew Solomon at least agreed with her, and though he was more willing to kill than she was, she was pretty sure Cass did too. Uno was an interesting case, but she knew even he probably wouldn’t bother to be so simplistic as to cast this in such easy terms.

Their bullets, one and all, ricocheted off a massive, translucent shield-wall Stella erected in front of herself and Cass, and then she forced them all to float uselessly in the air with gravity, allowing Cass the opportunity to put down more soldiers with well-placed, nonfatal shots to the hands, legs, shoulders—places that took them out of the fight but would not kill them. The ones aimed for Caine and Helena however, simply disappeared into nothing several feet in front of them, the small smile on Helena’s face sure evidence that this was somehow her doing, though Stella did not understand the mechanics of it.




“It is not written in the part I was meant to play, and so for now, I won’t allow it.”



The sword in the Prime Minister’s hand, though precisely and unerringly aimed, did not hit its intended target, because by the time it descended, he was no longer there at all, but several feet backwards, still in the same prone position, as though he’d never moved at all. And he certainly had not moved himself—that much was obvious. The effect had been instantaneous, and happened with no fanfare or ceremony at all.

“Well, that was disappointing.” The voice, calm and almost monotone in its delivery, nevertheless carried a certain refined, intellectual edge to it. Such a tone could only belong to one person. “And Solomon said you had such potential, too.” Of course, the person he was addressing would not necessarily know him, and they certainly had never before met in person.

In another eyeblink, Dietrich Engels had appeared in the hallway in much the same way Uno had simply appeared at his current location. In one hand, he loosely held an empty syringe, one he slid into the pocket of his lab coat as he surveyed the scene in front of him. “If your persistence to live is as effective as your files seem to indicate, you should stand up now. Can’t have you letting everyone down now, can we?” There it was again—the provocateur’s characteristic flippancy.

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His dark gaze slid to Teleus. “Good news, Prime Minister—the first field test for the new serum is going splendidly, though it appears to favor those with certain genes already in place, as predicted.” Ordinarily, Dietrich would not have bothered to involve himself in this whole charade, staged play that it was, but she had asked him to, and when she asked, he answered. So he would be the infamous Judas here, betrayer to the cause, because someone had to be, and he was admittedly quite well-suited to it.

“I refuse to do all the work here,” he said rather dryly to the rebel beside him. “And you shouldn’t want me to. I have no idea how long this dose is going to last.”

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⌈ As the lines fade into nonexistence
 ⌋

For the first time in his life...

There was conflict brewing deep inside of him. The desire to follow faithfully the path he had chosen and the wish to see her not harmed. They produce a collision within his collective consciousness. It is why he had decided to seal away all attachments he had for anyone, specifically her. However, it was not the same as before where he could set it aside and process it much like a machine would. The result taints his actions and decisions. It effectively rendered his enactment of orders with a flaw. Something, he could not afford to do as a weapon and tool of the government.

Perhaps, it would have been better to...

"I should have never met you." Those words spilled forth without filter and hesitation. His entire existence would have been spared from this reality if he had remained as that entity. He would be what he has always been a simple tool. All that he had experienced would have not come to pass. Many would describe this as cowardice, him running away. He would not deny that. Ever since he was young, he had always been the crybaby, the one to get scared, the one who would run. That is probably why the process of eliminating his emotions had been done smoothly. Because, he did not want them anymore. "It is better if I do not remember you."

The rifle in his hand was dropped unceremoniously to the ground. "You are a distraction." Behind his helmet, his face was not as placid as he would normally be. It was twisted with sadness and pain only possible through the rationalizing of one's emotions. "Do not smile at me. Do not look at me like that." Because really, he could not afford seeing her like this to him. It would have been best if he had never seen her as nothing more but an android. However, it was not possible anymore.

To his eyes, this being before him is the only one...

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"I will hurt you." Crux had procured his signature gun and pointed it at her. It is a fact that he knew that one of his bullet had entered her body though, it did not stay. However, that was enough. "I am your enemy. I will kill you. That is my order." Then, he pulled the trigger. Bullets came out in a consecutive line. Yet, they did not move in a manner known to such projectiles. Instead, it hovered in front of him as if waiting for something or rather for a command. "I am not your partner anymore."

On cue, the bullets began to move in a pattern incompletely erratic as if their movements were not their own. Uniquely, it was true. They were being controlled by the cognitive process of Crux. They were remotely controlled by him as they attacked her with the implication of tearing her apart. As for the one, she did not avoid. Yes, he had noticed that action to be a choice. It was advantageous to him but to her, it is not. The bullet carried a certain activation which he had derived from the program which attacked him, the creation of Madame Blossom.

As such, it was attaching itself or rather merging with her systems and when completed...

"Hate me. Forsake me. Forget me."


⌈There will be new ones to take its place...⌋

No doubt about it. She is a child. This was even proven by her own words. Though, Caine does not see any profit in debating that fact with her. For right now, it would serve him far better to focus on the task at hand. There was no need for anyone to tell him that the soldiers are inadequate in handling the two. After all, they are not normal anymore and his subordinates are still in the realm of mortal limitations which applies to their skills. At the same time, he could see that the two had improved with the control of their powers. The fights and the necessity must have propelled them to harness it well.

In the end, inexperience is a terrible foe in a battlefield.

Looking above him, it seemed that Crux was currently occupied with Project Zero. That would probably take a while. Caine was not ignorant of the situation between the two, so to speak. In any case, it would be better to expect that there would be no aid coming from the Black Knight anytime soon. He noticed the power current's inconsistent flow and also its transition to a rhythmic pattern. Perfectly described by Helena, a heartbeat. He could already imagine an angry Solla. "This will be messy." He noted and surely enough, the stability began to fluctuate once more. As if, it was being restrained ferociously.

The air around them began to crackle like thunder and soon created violent streaks of power. It made contact to the structure around them effectively causing explosions. The embers it caused landed on the plants which now changed the pristine white canvas into a roaring crimson of flames.

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However, Caine was not bothered by this event. He glanced at Helena noticing that the bullet aimed for him had been taken care of. That was not his doing as he is incapable of such feats. "Thank you." Those words were directed at her as he accompanied it with a small nod. After doing so, he faced Stella and Mikhail once more as the fires start to increase in its intensity. "Finon. Take the men and leave." His order to the remaining men unharmed did not make much sense. But to question him, it was not allowed as his eyes left no point to argue. "Understood, Supreme General."

Soon enough, there was no one else left but him, Crux, Helena, Project Zero, Mikhail, and Stella. "This should be fair." With that said, Caine produced a metallic baton to his hand with accurate ease. Faster than the blink of an eye, he had appeared in front of Stella and then delivered a backhand blow with the usage of the baton towards her head. Afterwards, he dashed towards Mikhail and this time delivered an uppercut to the younger man's chin with the tip of his baton.

Well, he is not like them after all. Nothing fancy.


⌈Whether this is for the better or not, it is a path that one must take control of...⌋

Normally, the proper word to say or to show is gratitude. But, Uno does not feel that way at all. He was annoyed, irritated, or for the simplistic term, pissed. Oh, it was not because of the Prime Minister about to kill him or his words. It was more about the unknown man who appeared out of nowhere and seems to have a death wish. In which, he was willing to grant for free. "Hmph." Not really liking the guy already even if, his life was saved through a means he is not really aware of.

It seemed that this guy know Solomon in which leads him to believe the guy was probably the brother. Well, the guy also knew the Prime Minister in a more close manner. Why he could say that? Prime Minister King seemed displeased in a way that could only be seen towards people he expected not to intervene. "You should have remained in your office, Dietrich." So, he was correct. This guy is brother and the Head of the Research and Science Division. Though, he was planning to do this alone. He was fine with unsolicited help.

Standing from his position in which he has no idea how he got there, Uno dusted his clothes and flexed his neck side-wards. "Shut it." He stated aridly while rolling his eyes. And here, he believed that he has the sole talent to piss someone off. Anyway, he extended his hand forward. The pool of blood near the Prime Minister moved towards him as it changed back into a blade. "I'll be taking back my sword in a short while." He noted with that confident smile unperturbed by the brush of death he had earlier. Those orange eyes did not flicker or waver.

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Tirion's displeasure was soon reverted to his calm facade. He did expect something like this. Dr. Kisaragi's visitation did prompt him to conclude such happenings. "The only thing that both of you will gain is death." After saying that, Uno moved in a speed that he had never done. Though, it was made possible due to what he is. He attacked with a downward slash in which Tirion dodged by stepping back. But before, he could counterattack. He felt something wrapped around and restricting his arms and legs. Glancing at it, they were blood tentacles which sprouted from Uno's sword.

In that split-second, Uno threw a straight punch to Tirion's face. His fist almost touched the face, but it was met with resistance. He placed more force on it as Tirion's eye narrowed. The contact was barely made as Uno was pushed back once more and the tentacles which immobilized him were ripped apart as they fell on the ground as bloody mess. Fortunately for Uno, he was able to land on his feet this time. Somehow, the force was weaker than before. "Almost got you, didn't it..." He mocked the Prime Minister who stood there with annoyance.

He could feel it already beginning. There was not much time left. Uno Summus and even Dietrich Engles must be terminated at all cost. With that decision, the atmosphere around them suddenly became very heavy as the walls of the hall they were in had been torn away from its placement. They hovered as it was being changed into something else entirely. "Almost is failure." The walls were turned into sharp projectiles as they aimed for Uno and Dietrich.

Yet, it must be done.

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Character Portrait: Crux Character Portrait: Darcia Character Portrait: Uno Summus Character Portrait: Stella Iaret
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“I already said it, did I not?”



Would it truly be better for them if they had never met? Such a judgement was hard to make. It was true that because she had met him, she had been caused more pain than she had ever had cause to imagine, because she had come to view him as someone precious, someone more important to her than anything or anyone else. Doing so had, in the end, caused her immense distress, and a great deal of suffering. Perhaps even more suffering than happiness.

But the thing was, Darcia decided, feeling the bullet’s technology begin to go to work on her systems, even what little happiness she had gained had been profound. She remembered now, in this moment, with dozens of bullets hovering in front of her, not the pain that she had suffered, but the happiness. She remembered her initial confusion with it, her inability to understand why she had chosen to stay when told to leave. How the confusion had seemed to melt away into a feeling of rightness when he’d discovered her lingering presence and chosen to take her hand.

The bullets flew for her, but she did not move, nor resist. Many of them simply ricocheted off her armor, unable to penetrate the technology, so she shed it, the plates retracting until she was simply wearing the black-and-blue suit from which she summoned them, and then instead of pinging off the metal that protected her, they tore through her flesh, tearing parts of the suit and causing her to bleed in multiple places. She never stopped looking at him, nor did the soft smile fade from her face. It didn’t matter. Pain wasn’t consequential.

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He would hurt her. She knew that. She had hurt him, too. None of it made her want to be anywhere but here. She could feel the sensation of blood sliding sluggishly down her arms and legs, her synthetic flesh parted in places to expose the organic and mechanical parts beneath. A cut just beneath one of her optics bled down her cheek like a crimson tear track, curving over the tiny little smile.

“I told you, didn’t I?” she murmured softly, raising a hand to the largest wound, still the one on her abdomen. Carefully, she placed her hand over it, but the blood ran between her fingers anyway. “When the time comes, I will be happy to be destroyed by you, if that is your wish.” He was his real self again, and so if this was his choice, she would not resist it. As a matter of fact, destroying her would take a very long time, even if she did not resist, and so she would still be doing what she needed to do in order to help the others. But she would also be keeping her word, and that was important to her.

But never as important as he was.

“I refuse.”




“No matter what, I have resolved to do this.”



Fortunately, the men were shortly instructed to depart, which was good because she really didn’t desire to hurt any more of them than was necessary. She would, if she had to, but she did not desire it. She would never want to do something like that.

She was not, perhaps, expecting him to move as quickly as he did, and so the blow caught her, not as hard as it could have, because she did move with it, but enough that whatever strange synergy was occurring between herself and the energy of the area was disrupted. Everything was catching on fire, and Stella knew that while it wouldn’t really be able to hurt herself or Cass, it may well spread to the area outside of Central and harm civilians. So she dug into that power she could feel around her, wresting enough from what was obviously Solla to take command of the garden’s emergency sprinkler systems, which she set off at maximum capacity, beginning the process of dousing the flames.

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The power flared and surged, and she felt more of it enter her systems, setting her eyes alight with what was almost a fire of their own. Glancing to the side, she noted that Cass had recovered quickly from whatever damage the Supreme General had dealt him and was cracking his neck back and forth, the smoky air around him starting to swirl and crackle. Probably, he’d cause some rain and deal with the fire the rest of the way anyhow.

She was surprised, however, when the mysterious woman with the Supreme General stepped forwards, her glance flickering from Stella to Cass and settling on the latter. Raising a hand, she made a beckoning gesture by crooking her index finger. “The Seed who bloomed. Your opponent is me.” She didn’t seem to be leaving him much choice in the matter.

He looked with concern between Stella and the Supreme General, clearly loath to leave her on her own. She resisted the urge to snort. So protective, like an older brother or something. It was undeniably the role he occupied in her life now. “Cass,” she said, gaining his attention. “I’ll be fine. Show her who’s boss.” With a playful grin she wasn’t really feeling, she nodded firmly at him, and he shook his head, but turned his attention to his foe, leaving her to deal with the General Abernatty.

The smile fell off her face, and she sighed. She really didn’t want to do this. He’d mentioned having kids—she didn’t want to leave them without a father. So
 she wouldn’t. That didn’t mean she couldn’t fight him, though.

Taking a deep breath, Stella generated a heavy field of gravity right over him, quite suddenly at that. She then launched several barriers in succession, each of which would hit with force something like being thrown into a brick wall. Nothing fatal, but definitely debilitating. Her goal was to render him unconscious, but she wasn’t so stupid as to believe that it would be too simple. He was a human, yes, but he was smart and resourceful. That was not to be underestimated.




“The human will is truly the most impressive force in the world.”



This woman was definitely a strange one, but in truth, he was glad she’d tried to attack him rather than Stella, because he wasn’t sure what to expect from her. Solomon had called her the Fragment of Creation, which he took to mean that she was indeed the third of the three daughters of Pandora, as his friend sometimes chose to refer to them. Though, that other name
 well, it hardly mattered.

Stella appeared to have gained control of the sprinkler system—the least he could do was contribute to the effort as well. Overhead, the sky rapidly darkened, the low rumble of thunder rolling in even as the first drops of rain began to fall. Some of them were violet-red, but he didn't notice. He couldn’t notice—he had to pay attention to what was going on in front of him.

Helena stretched out a hand, palm-up, to catch the raindrops. A small smile adorned her face, even as the water started to dampen her hair to a slightly deeper green. “It really is impressive, how you’ve evolved,” she murmured. Her hand closed over the drops of water, and she fixed him with a soft look. “Not even I could have expected that one of the first Seeds would do that.” The typical scales for the measure of a Seed’s power were simply inadequate for this one, and his restraint was impressive.

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Lowering her arm, Helena focused, and across her forehead, a symbol Cass did not recognize shimmered, the air taking on a palpable hint of electric current, in part from his storm, in part from the fight between Stella and Solla to contain the Domes’ power, and in part simply from whatever she herself was doing. It caused her hair to stand on end, flow as if levitated by some force that he could not see or feel.

“I am sorry, Mikhail. I used to think that the White Knight would be you, but it never was.” From Helena, a blast of pure concussive force issued forth, slamming into Cass faster than he could react to it, and throwing him into the nearest tree, which cracked under the pressure of the collision. Cass felt several of his ribs snap into pieces, and it was only by reflex gained form long years of training that he managed to land on his feet, coughing until he spat a globule of blood to the side.




“One only need look at how much has been accomplished to understand that.”



Dietrich was evidently quite amused by the situation. One could argue that he was just enough of a sociopath that fear wasn’t really possible for him. And maybe that was true. Either way, it was indeed something he was unfamiliar with, and eve the prospect of facing down the Prime Minister, the Emperor, the First Seed of EDEN, was not enough to induce it. Perhaps there was simply nothing that would ever do the trick.

Perhaps that was why she’d asked him. He wasn’t here because of his auntie, though admittedly, it was she who’d made him receptive to the idea. But she was not the source of this particular one. No, that was someone closer, someone who knew how the game must be played and how the pieces must match up and move to garner the ending that each and every one of these people needed.

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The portions of the room that flew towards them did so with quite impressive speed, and admittedly, Dietrich was still trying to accustom himself to the mechanics of the power he had gained, so he was a little slow in dealing with the problem, and one piece of shrapnel edged his shoulder when he was too slow to prevent it, the bloody gash it made was ultimately less consequential than it could have been, and he snapped into the frame of mind he needed in enough time to vanish the rest, causing them to reappear too far away to be of any use to the Prime Minister—in the Supreme General’s wing of the Central building, actually. Ah, that was good. He needed an idea of how far this power would extend.

“And failure is information,” he replied. Any scientist knew that error was a vital part of success, after all.

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Character Portrait: Crux Character Portrait: Darcia Character Portrait: Uno Summus Character Portrait: Stella Iaret
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⌈ Death is better served in its primal purpose
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Frustration.

Torment.

They were the emotions which Crux was feeling prominently. It would have been better if she was fighting him. Yet, she simply stayed in front of him, still and accepting all of his attacks. Her stance and opinion were adding much to his distress. The degree of conflict within him grows to a length. He would have preferred her to fight him. For her to fight in earnest, for her to fight him in such fervor and then at the outcome of it all. Whether one of them perishes or both, he would be fine with it. Because in the end, she had fought him, and considered him a foe, their bonds they had as partners or even the possibility beyond that will be extinguished.

She will be free. He was not someone to be precious, never.

"My wish does not matter." It was a statement which did not reflect his true emotions. As much as possible, his attachments were repressed and hidden in a cage inside his soul, if he even has one. The onslaught of bullets did not waver in its approach and purpose of tearing her apart, piece by piece. "It had never from the very beginning." His other free hand now held another gun similar to his primary weapon, the same one which he had used during the incident of his matter burst. "Do not implicate me in any of your assumptions." His voice harsh and cruel far from the distant coldness he had used before or the casual tone of indifference presented in his daily transactions.

The bullets remotely controlled moved in a more ferocious speed and intensity. As if, it was reflecting the chaotic emotions Crux was having. He was far from the GHOST Crux who could easily commit killings without having any kinds of consciousness. There were no feelings of remorse or even guilt. All of his targets are equal in his eyes and in the activation of his orders. Right now, he was torn with his discretion of continuing his mandated duty as the tool of the government and the ones blossoming within him as a man and a human being. "Fight me for your existence."

She was like a tattered doll. Bloodied and broken, the image when she had been struck by lightning. It led for his decision to have her removed from his side. This had been spurred by the wish of not seeing her come to harm again. Life is truly an irony. Because at this very moment, he was the one responsible for hurting her. "If you do not..."

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Raising the gun on his other hand, those blue eyes of his hidden behind his helm narrowed with distinction. Then, it was aimed at an unexpected target. The weapon indicated began to exhibit a whitish-blue glow assuming that there was going to be another powerful attack coming out of its tip. "This is the end." At the end of that statement, he pulled the trigger with the absence of fear or hesitation. As the bullet without care and rhyme aimed for a head which was Crux own.


⌈Just how like humans should cater to their basic desires...⌋

So, the one he will be fighting against was the infamous Stella R. Iaret. That was promising to be pitted against the most exquisite flower to bloom in the captivity of the domes. Ironically, Caine could be considered much like the gardener or even more so, the assistant. It seemed that Helena had chosen to take on Mikhail Golikov, the one who wields the abilities to control weather conditions. Really, the world was truly a bizarre place with various beings striving for their desired goals and dreams. Doing whatever was necessary to obtain it. Though, there are those others burdened by something else entirely.

Well, it does not matter.

As the gravity around him shifted dramatically, it had suspended him effectively in place. The toll of such a force was not really healthy for a human's body. However, he did not become the Supreme General or the Prime Minister's trusted man if he was not capable of simple fighting, so to speak. His eyes narrowed and with a flick of his wrist as the baton, now crackling, he wielded break the barriers thrown in his way as if they were but glass. As for his movement, it was due to the device he has with him. It had activated due to the gravity changed around him. This would be able to balance the shift and avail him with the ability to move without worrying over such matters.

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"If this is what you are capable of, Solla would be the least of your problems." He then dashed towards her as he delivered interconnecting strikes to her form. At the end of it, he delivered a kick to her torso. "I see that your companions have not taught you much of physical combat." It was not surprising as the focus must have been in her powers. That is her greatest strength and if harnessed properly and expertly. There would be no need for her to enter in such archaic way of fighting, as they would say. The baton was pointed at her forehead as he pushed a button at his weapon's handle. Instantly, the tip which was supposedly just a blunt circular end opened creating a spout. And, a conglomerated red energy was released from it. This would be enough to destroy a very huge and industrialized wall along with its foundation into a heap of dust.

After doing so, the baton returned to its original form. "You need not worry about killing me. That is beyond your capabilities." Caine's tone was neither provoking nor brimming with confidence. He was simply stating a fact based on his current observations. His face was also a picture of calm and cool. As if, nothing was enough to ruffle his feathers. "If you want to obtain whatever you desire, you will have to brandish it without consideration." The sprinkler system which had been raining upon them had finally stopped. This was replaced by shimmering electrical currents around him. It seemed that Solla wishes something of him. He could not help but sigh openly as the baton he wielded seemed to resonate with it.

"One can never satisfy another. They only satisfy themselves. No one is exempted from that even you. Doing this for someone? For something? In the end, you are just doing it for yourself."


⌈We are all driven by such things for it is what makes us monsters in human skin.⌋

Well, one thing is for certain. The Prime Minister has no qualms destroying the building. Or, he wanted to remodel anyway. Uno now knew who to call when he required some handy work with interior designing. Dodging the launched projectiles, it was not that difficult to do so. They were easy to determine as he could sense the ones meant to cause harm on his person. Other than evading, he had also taken the measure of destroying the reshaped walls into tiny pieces. As for the others, he could see that the Brother sent them away. That was a nifty trick. No need for transportation.

"Out of toys." After stating that, Uno manipulated the blood near the Prime Minister into red icicles and launched them upwards. Tirion stopped these said icicles from their flight and crashed them into crystallized dusts. However, Uno had already dashed forward once more. The bloody sword, he held delivered a side-ward slash. Despite the distraction, Tirion was able to catch the movement from the corner of his eye. He moved his head back though; it showed his actions were a bit delayed as some of his hair had been cut. The creeping pain within his body was increasing in its degree. Furthermore, the eye hidden behind the patch was pulsating into something requiring his control. However, Tirion would not allow such matters to be seen by these two individuals.

As for Uno, it was not the end of his attack. He was very unrelenting. With his free hand, he grabbed the sword being held by the Prime Minister. But, his grip was upon its blade. This effectively made the palm of his hand bleed as blood flowed from it willfully.

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His eyes narrowed with that of sincere threat as the orange hue reflected behind his contact lenses. "We will finish it this time." With that declared, the blood from his cut hand began to stretch into cloth-like strands wrapping around the Prime Minister's form with such haste and strength. It wrapped around Tirion making him looked like a mummified corpse, but instead of white bandages, they were red strips of blood. When the confinement was done, Uno jumped back as he had already manipulated other portion of his blood into dagger forms and launched them towards the captured Prime Minister. This would be his version of pin the tail on the donkey game.

Reward, it would be demise.

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Character Portrait: Crux Character Portrait: Darcia Character Portrait: Uno Summus Character Portrait: Stella Iaret
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“There are some things even I cannot allow.”



“Your wishes matter to me,” Darcia countered. It was amazing, how little he seemed to understand. The only reason she had come to view herself as a person with wishes of her own, with things she wanted to do and things she thought were right, was because of him. Because she had seen it, how no one else ever thought to ask him what mattered to him, or to think about what he might have wanted or needed, not even himself. The first honest, human desire Darcia had ever had was to understand why that was, who he was. It came even before her desire to understand herself.

She had not seen herself as something that could stand on the same level as humans until she had realized that she loved him. Only then had she begun calling herself I, and even then, it was still difficult in the presence of anyone but him. It was a kind of dependence, perhaps, but if so, it was relatively benign, in that it led her to do what anyone in love did—wish for his happiness and his freedom, impossible to obtain as they both seemed. And, well, if it turned out that her own death would bring him those things, then she would choose to die. Willingly, happily, with a smile on her face and knowing that she had achieved her aim.

But nothing about this seemed to be bringing him any peace or satisfaction. The tears in her body, the bleeding wounds and ragged edges of her, these things did not cause her half as much pain as the tone of his voice, though she was apparently developing a gift for ignoring the cruel things he said to her. She knew, somewhere in her heart, that he didn’t mean them. And
 even if he did, she knew it did not, could not, matter to her.

At the entreaty to fight him, she shook her head. She wouldn’t. Protect others from him, if she had to, but not fight him. Not hurt him. And never aim to kill or destroy him. It was not in her.

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Darcia’s Oracle engine informed her of what was most likely to happen several seconds before it did. She wasted one of those precious seconds in disbelief of it, but as soon as his hand moved, aiming the second gun at himself, she was moving too, her panic enough to temporarily suspend her better calculations. There was more than one way she could have stopped that bullet, but the only way that came to her was the simplest.

“No!”

She hit him at nearly full speed, having closed the distance between them faster than the human eye could blink, a definite upgrade from her previous incarnation. Project Zero would not have been capable of it. Project One—Darcia—was. Her shoulder hit his chest, while her hand grabbed the wrist with the gun and wrenched it forward and down, the combined motions parting it from the positioning it needed to hit him.

That did not mean, however, that the bullet did not hit a target. Give the odd angle it had been fired at, the bullet had actually entered around Darcia’s sternum, traveling at a steep angle through her core systems and organs, and lodged itself against one of her metal vertebra. Her entire frame trembled, and the multicolored lights behind her eyes dimmed and faded back into the usual wisteria color. A trickle of blood escaped from the corner of her mouth, and she met his eyes through the visor, her own blurred and unfocused, her words coming out with an uncommon thickness. “You promised. Live like you promised.”

The lights in her internal systems glowed an eerie red, and she dropped like a stone, crashing to the ground beneath. She appeared to be unconscious at the very least, only her erratically-flickering internal lights giving away the fact that she may or may not survive the injury, which had compromised some of her most delicate internal wiring. Had she been wearing her armor, or had she thought to simply destroy the bullet from range instead of rushing forward, she would have endured the results unscathed, but for once, Darcia hadn’t really been calculating optimum outcomes. All she’d seen was Crux’s possible death, and all she’d felt was overwhelming fear at the prospect.

And so none of that had mattered.

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Nothing else had mattered at all.




“Things that are intolerable regardless of our desires.”



Stella had to admit, taking physical blows was not something she was used to, and she was unprepared for them simply because she had not expected him to be in possession of any sort of countermeasure to her gravity. A mistake she would not make a second time, she thought, picking herself up from the ground. Her lip had been split in the fall, and she swiped across it with a thumb. Well, Uno might have been able to make some use of that, but she certainly couldn’t. The injury healed almost immediately anyway, as did the cracked rib and internal damage. Her disguise had been mangled, and so she simply tore the rest of it away. It had no point any longer anyhow.

“Don’t pretend to know what I’m capable of,” she hissed, her eyes flashing at the presumption. Well, she was really rather easily challenged, after all, and found it hard to resist accepting them. This was something that Uno had taken advantage of multiple times, in both small and large ways. But even so, she knew how not to let that trait of hers make her into a fool.

It was the words about her motives, though, that really goaded her. Her jaw set tightly, Stella’s eyes flashed with something barely-contained, and slowly, behind her, a shadow seemed to materialize, the edges of it crackling as though with electricity. It was dark though, like black lightning, and she was only half aware of it.

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Reaching deep into herself, Stella recalled what she had done the day she resisted Crux’s Magna Carta. Something had called to her than, and she had answered, but with reservation, uncertainty. This time, there would be none of that. She could not afford it. They could not.

“I am doing this for myself,” she replied, her voice low and controlled. “Because I care about them and want this for them. I want them to have the world they only dream about now. And if that makes me selfish, then so be it. I’m selfish. Who cares?” The shadow loomed larger and larger behind her, but while it should have been sinister, instead it felt warm and soothing, like someone embracing her from behind. Like warm breath on her neck and the comforting press of another person against her back. She wasn’t alone anymore. She knew what it felt like now, to have that to fight for.

Selfish? Maybe. But why quibble about words?

As Stella raised one of her hands, arm outstretched in front of her and fingers pointed to the sky, the shadow did the same. And in both palms materialized a controlled, crackling ball of that black lightning. It was power in raw form, and she could feel it pounding a pulse-rhythm in the ground at her feet, feel it thrumming in her blood, feel it in the very motion of the air. She could feel everything, from Darcia’s pain to Uno’s resolve, to the hunger of someone three domes over, if she concentrated on it. Everything was connected. Everything was one.

So if she was selfish, it was because her self wasn’t bounded to this body. Because she was in everything, too. And it was all straining towards the same end, she could feel it. All it needed was a sword to guide in the achievement of this end. And she could be that sword.

The spheres of lightning released, both hurtling for the Supreme General, guided not by straight trajectory but as homing devices, set to avoid everything but him.




“Though
 I have never figured out what those things might be, for someone like myself.”



Dietrich was for the most part content to let the other two thrash around and clean up the mess, as it were, by moving any projectiles hurled against them. He didn’t especially care what the result of all of this was; he was here at the request of a friend, one whose opinion on these matters he trusted considerably more than his own, and she did not ask anything of him without the most careful of considerations. Truly, she reminded him of his brother, and perhaps that explained his affinity for her. He was not a man who could get along with many people, after all.

He noted that the Prime Minister was now covered in what appeared to be ropelike objects made entirely of blood. A little macabre, but points certainly had to be given for the creativity involved. Admittedly, he was going to be much better for defense at this point, because while the injection seemed to have given him the ability to manipulate space, he was not certain of the extent of the capacity, and given that he’d gained it all of ten minutes ago, he didn’t want to overreach when the consequences could prove to be a disaster

Admittedly, he was unprepared for what came next.

The gun was silenced, preventing him from hearing the shots being fired, and they were all unerringly precise. One tore through a line of blood daggers, noticeably the ones that would actually hit vital areas on the Prime Minister most likely, another for Uno’s head, and a third for his back. The fourth was fast enough that Dietrich couldn’t actually move it, fired from close behind him, but it only hit him in the leg.

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“If I didn’t know you, I’d say you were a traitor, Dietrich.” The tone of the voice was flat, and belonged to Ilyana, a fact that he was able to identify before she stepped out of the shadow that concealed her presence. He glared up at her, but her face was stony. This wasn’t Ilyana his fellow scientist, this was Special Agent Golikova, Helena Ashworthy’s left hand. There was a distinct difference. She would only be here if Helena had sent her, and that meant that either Helena had set him up intentionally, because she was also the one who’d asked him to be here, or she’d calculated things exactly how she wanted them to get her final outcome. It was always hard to say with that one. Scientists she was not, but nobody Dietrich had ever met was half as good at knowing people.

Ilyana leveled her gun at Uno and fired three more shots, each aimed for a vital point. She might be only human, but she was the very same person who’d taught Crux to shoot, and her aim was flawless.

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⌈Inside my chest, there is nothing and so,
 ⌋

Within a blink of an eye, the deed had been done.

Really, Crux was not uncomfortable with the thought of the term blowing his brains out. For, he had already had the sensation of such a projectile entering his head unhindered. This was an attempt for education, yet it would not be really advisable to do so. In any case, he had survived such a fatal shot. It was considered a miracle. This lead to the conclusion he was a SEED. But of course, he was not at all. It would be more accurate to describe him as someone similar to that character in the novel of Frankenstein. An entity created out of necessity and what they considered useless are discarded. Thus, he was never whole, but pieces of twisted genius and tainted dreams.

Deferring to the aftermath, he could not understand how he could have lived through that kill shot. The direction was accurate. Perhaps, he truly did die in that moment. And the present him was nothing more but an illusion, a dream, a ghost. But then again, why does he feel? It should have been erased from him even without the interference of others. As such, he could not attribute his survival to nothing else but his will.

Yes, the controversial gift of God. They say, the human will.

And due to that, he was still alive and breathing. The bullet which should have penetrated his skull and left him for death did not happen. Instead, it had hit a different target all together. The distinction of a promise and of a wish, where does the line which separate and connect them truly lie?

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He lowered himself to the ground and then picked up the rifle he had dropped earlier. The guns he had used earlier had been kept into their storage. Due to his armor and helmet, one could not determine his expression or his emotions. He stood there with such a calm facade without a crook in his stance. However, he did check the rifle he has in hand whether it was undamaged and would still be usable. Seemingly satisfied, he walked towards the location where the bullet that ended everything could be found.

She said his wish mattered...

If that was so, why did she appear in front of him again? He told her that his hope was not to have their paths crossed at any time. So, she must be lying. He wished to never allow harm to come to her. And yet, it was not possible anymore. As such, his wish was meaningless even from the very beginning. There was no need for such things in regards to him. He looked upon the fallen Project Zero or more known to him as Darcia.

There was a promise...

That is right. He did say that death will not come to him. No matter what, he would strive to live. Is she not cruel? To expect such thing of him and then drive him to the edge. Still, he would stand by it. He did make a vow. So truly, his life he knew was never in danger. Behind his helmet, those ice blue eyes of him had a cold sheen over it. In the end, he and his brother are diabolical are they not? They know the best way to reach their goals and would take the path unhindered. "Activate Lethe." The integration was complete and he was about to finalize the output when...

"My knight... Help me."

There it is then. He turned his back. What was it that memory which had been incorporated within him by accident? The first one who had become Solla's Knight had said something. Looking over his shoulder, the wirings were further being internally gnawed. "I wanted to be yours." With that not being said, he paved his way to do his duties. He has no use of her anymore. It is all he needed to repeat to himself. A mantra to remind him that he is nothing more but a tool of death and really, that is fine.


⌈I am able to do things considered heinous, but...⌋

Fear? Caine does not see such feeling as weakness or an enemy. Instead, it was what make people move from the standstill they created themselves whether it was backwards or forward. This was a necessary aspect in life. So, he was not bothered by the appearance of the shadowy figure behind Stella. Rather, he recalled the similar scene with Solla who threw a tantrum while the Prime Minister had been away to another dome. How interesting. They are truly kids of the same feather. So really, he felt more of a babysitter right now than a general.

As for selfishness? He does not see that as something evil or bad. The same goes for him, they are selfish. It is part of being a human and even whatever path they may take. This one attribute will stay with them. He momentarily glanced to his side as he heard something falling. It seemed that the battle between the collaborative weapons created by the government had come to an end. Crux seemed to be the victor. Just like his brother, they are cruel... So cruel even to themselves. Why do they not just take the easy path? But then again, he agreed to that didn't he?

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"That is good. Brandish that blade of yours. " Caine stated with a small yet meaningful smile upon his lips. She was quick to rise when a challenge is presented before her. It reminded him of someone in particular. "Right and wrong does not matter only what one wants. So, show me if your want is stronger." His baton continued to resonate with the electrical shimmer surrounding his form. His eyes looked at the spheres of lightning hurled towards his form. They were interesting in structure and in function. These balls were also able to curve around the inanimate objects indicating they have homing capabilities. It does make him wonder if they could apply such idea to their weapons. After all, he is a military man, a soldier.

Then, the spheres approached him without revel.

However, they were absorbed as his baton was inserted into a certain someone, specifically at that person's back. "Your turn, Crux." On cue, he pointed the rifle at Stella and released four consecutive shots with the same nature as the spheres she had released. They were targeting her vital spots, the head, the chest, the lungs, and the femoral artery. "Magna Carta, initialized." It seemed his power source had now been returned to him. Furthermore, he had been designed by Solla as a conduit. As such, he is able to harness the energy fueling the domes to be used for his operation. For the blue-haired maiden is unable to manipulate it, she could only guide it.

Caine turned his back at them. "I will be leaving. I have another appointment to attend to." His eyes looked towards Helena. "Do not take long. He requires your presence." With that said, he left the area disappearing into a location which is only known to him for now.


⌈It is something I am able to do with pride for it is done for you.⌋

It seemed the playing field was now even on both sides. There was a new player and somehow the coloring reminded him distinctively of Cass. His mind was beginning to connect the dots and really, it seemed that everyone around him was probably related one way or another. But, he does welcome the feminine touch once in a while. Too bad, she seemed not on his side. "One of your friends?" He addressed the Brother while making sure that the blood ropes were still in place around the Prime Minister. He has the guy and there was no way he was going to let go so easily.

However, the answer came as three forms or more accurately, three bullets. It was like déjà vu. This manner of skill reminded him of someone in particular. With his sword now in his hand, the bullets were sliced apart with extreme precision and rather a close call. His danger radar was helpful in such situations really. "I guess I'm not your type. That's a first." As usual, Uno does not fail to appear completely care free of the current event transpiring around him. Of course, it would be stupid for anyone to see this as true. For in the end, he was a person of many masks.

With that, Uno did not waste fluidity in his strike as he swung his sword in a spherical manner to decapitate the Prime Minister while he had reformed the blood into needles raining down on the newcomer. But, his sword came to a halt without his permission. As the blood ropes slowly loosened around the Prime Minister's form,

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"I tire of this play." Tirion gazed at Uno with that violet eye of his. It was filled with boredom and the cold desire of ending it. So, Uno could not help but be pissed of this guy. As if everything around him is lower than that of an insect and thus, he should not be bothered with it. "You are really a disagreeable person." He then fought with the telekinetic manipulation that the Prime Minister exudes with his sheer strength of will. And it did produce result; the sword was trembling and was inching ever so treacherously. "We have the same opinion." There was a subtle yet malicious smile on his face as the blood ropes lashes out.

Quickly, Uno stepped back while slashing the ones he created earlier. They were now being controlled by the Prime Minister. How could that be? He even looked over his shoulder to see the blood needles he made was now targeting him and also the Brother. "Tsk!" He clicked his tongue at this and proceeded to dissolve them to their original form while glaring at the Prime Minister who stood there unperturbed. Tirion was rather straightening his clothes as it got ruffled because of being restricted before. Yeah, this guy was really pressing on his nerves.

Uno knew of the Prime Minister's ability of Telekinesis. Though, he could see that it had evolved furthermore. Thinking about it, this was not impossible. His power was the most basic of all, the foundation of what other SEEDs and FlowerS are able to do. "Somehow, I'm starting not really to like you personally and that's a bad thing." He removed his wig and contact lenses. There was no need for them anymore. "Solomon's Brother handle the chick, you can do that can't you?" Not waiting for an answer, he dashed forward and would fight Tirion, head-on.

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A mischievous smile was on his face. Uno was not going to back down. In the end, his resolve is not going to lose to this pig-headed Prime Minister. His bloody sword collapsed to a puddle of blood while his true weapon was now coated with a violet glow. Telekinetic or not. He was going to win this time. In response, Tirion narrowed his eye in displeasure for such enthusiasm. If it was another time, he would have appreciated it. However, this was not the appropriate situation. As such, he blocked the incoming strike with an invisible shield as the mere collision produced brilliant light works, so to speak. Behind that, both men will not relent.

"You promised."

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Character Portrait: Crux Character Portrait: Darcia Character Portrait: Uno Summus Character Portrait: Stella Iaret
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“I’m not like you.”



Stella, too, noticed Darcia fall, and she was considerably more broken up about it than Crux seemed to be, the bastard. “Darcia!” But the android was unresponsive, her lights flickering less and less frequently until they stopped altogether. She didn’t understand. It shouldn't have been possible for her to sustain that much damage. Stella had fought her, over and over, in training, and she was capable of things that should have brought anyone to their knees. But Crux looked unscathed. Almost like
 almost like she hadn’t been fighting him at all.

And then she understood, and Stella gritted her teeth, turning back to the Supreme General. Seriously, what was this guy’s deal? Right and wrong did matter, and it wasn’t only about what she wanted. That said, she would fight for what she wanted, because she was convinced that it was right. It was this that made her want it in the first place. She might be mistaken—that was always a possibility. But it was one she believed to be minimal, and this was what allowed her to risk so much for it.

Annoyingly, Crux got in the way of her attacks, and redirected them back at her in the form of bullets. As though something that she had made could hurt her. They all hit, certainly, but they just sank into her body, absorbed into her systems like nutrients into a root. “You bastard.” She completely ignored the supreme general as he left, focusing her anger instead on the jerk who’d quite possibly just killed her friend.

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“Do you have any idea what she did for you? How much she loved you? She would have given you the world if you’d asked for it, and you killed her.” Her lip curled, the power around her building as she continued to absorb more, the process facilitated by her anger and her grief. The lights, and everything else were in time with her heart again, and this time, she wasn’t going to let them go. “Funny. I used to think being a coward and a betrayer was something only a human could do. Now I guess cyborgs can do it too.”

The lights in Central all went out, though the vital life-support systems remained functional. All the auxiliary power, however, was gone, and looking at Stella, it was not difficult to discern where it went.




“I have a heart, mangled and blackened though it may be.”



“I do not forget my promises.” This was Helena’s response to Caine as the latter departed. Apparently, what happened to the android had stirred something in Stella. That was good—she would need to hold onto that. Solla was in many ways childlike and simple, it was true, but the simplicity of her motives, the lack of any grandiosity in her nature, these things made her more effective. The power responded best to as little obfuscation as possible. Too many thoughts about mankind or evolution or what was good for everyone—these things would only muddy her ability to direct it. It was fine if they were her real motives, or the ones she would give as her answers to questions, truly and honestly. But they could not be what she felt in the moment, when directing that force she called to her even now. That had to be something simpler, more primal, more fundamental.

It would seem that the rose was not the only one affected by the sight of the android’s apparent demise—the Seed who Bloomed was less outwardly emotional about it, but she saw the flash of anger behind his eyes, which even now glowed red under the influence of his power. And so much of it, too.

“It’s really a shame,” she said quietly. “You could destroy all of this infrastructure, with little effort, and yet it is much more difficult to harness it to destroy a group of people without the extra damage.” And he wouldn’t allow that much collateral destruction. He could kill one person easily enough, and everyone without blinking, but this kind of situation—fights that required something between the two—those were his weakness. It was what had made him unsuitable for the role of White Knight, after all. A shame indeed. He would have been good at it.

Cass shook his head. “And what’s your point?” he shot back, launching several blades of air in her direction. Helena deftly twisted to avoid them, faster than a human being would have been able to. It was necessary, for surviving him. He was relentless in a way that Stella was not, and she ducked and slid between another four barrages before she had the breath to answer properly.

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“Only that fate works in strange ways. The original purpose of the EDEN Project, in its very first iteration, more years ago than anyone but I have seen
 it really was to protect mankind. And if it had travelled the path it was supposed to, you would have been the very culmination of it, and others like you. Those with the power to reform the earth itself, grow forests and dry deserts and fill oceans with life. To purify our air.” She said the last with just the faintest hint of emphasis, blinking golden eyes at him.

“You may not have been chosen for her, but there is much you can yet do, Mikhail. Much you yet must do.”




“The funny thing is, I’m still capable of heinous things. I just do them for different reasons. No better, is it?”



Dietrich sighed. It was apparently now his job to ‘deal with’ Ilyana. A gross oversimplification if there ever was one. He had been asked to keep the foolish hemomancer alive at any cost, and that was going to be a little more difficult if he was supposed to split his attention. Ilyana was looking at him like she was taking his measure, and her words earlier led him to suspect she knew exactly why he was really here, and she was here for the same reason, if with a different request. Well. It wouldn’t do to have her speaking this suspicion aloud and ruining everything before it was time. Certain things were only effective if properly introduced into a system, after all. One could throw off a delicate balance at the wrong moment otherwise.

“Well, you heard him. I suppose, for the moment, I am your problem.” He raised an eyebrow at Ilyana, who barked a laugh.

“Dietrich, you’ve always been my problem.” Really, he could be so insufferable, but he was also her very best friend in the entire world. Ilyana’s feelings for Solomon had always hovered indecisively somewhere between friendship or familial regard and romantic love, but Dietrich had ever been solid, the one constant in the equation that made up her life. When her grandmother died, he was her rock. When her brother disappeared and she thought he’d died, too, Dietrich was there for her.

And then, when Solomon had vanished too, they were there for each other. He did not display his emotions in the way other people did, and sometimes his callousness made her wonder if he even had them the way other people did. But she had never, not once in the two decades she’d known him, doubted that they were friends. That he cared about her the way she cared about him.

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To her, he had always been not only brilliant, but also bright. A light when her world was dark. She had no idea what Helena had been thinking, asking her to come here. Because surely, she must have known that Dietrich would turn, and that this would force a confrontation between them. She knew what was demanded of her in this situation: she should raise her gun and fire. She’d had no issues shooting at the intruder—she was, after all, a soldier. Even if his death would mean it was less likely for the Domes to fall in the end, something that would definitely represent a step forward for the human race. Her feelings on that or anything else were irrelevant. She had orders.

But
 even as she raised the sidearm to point at her best friend, she sighed and lowered it again, shaking her head. “Do what you have to do, Dietrich. I can’t kill you. I could never do that.”




“For all that, I still believe that our capacity for good is greater than our capacity for evil.”



Though Darcia lay still and unmoving, there was still enough life in her systems, to put it one way, for a hostile program to be working on her. It was attempting, at the activation command of the one who’d introduced it, to wipe her clean of all programs, memories, and everything else that had occurred to her since the days she’d first awoken on Solomon’s lab at Central.

Of course, there was interference. Both from Darcia’s programs as they were, and from Solomon himself, who, via remote access, was currently combatting the infiltrator program at every step. His fingers moved furiously over the keyboard, the plan at large for once forgotten as he struggled to do what any loving father would have done in the same situation—save his daughter before anyone else.

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It was a flaw of his, that he should care about her so much. He knew this. Most of his fellow engineers would never understand. Darcia was a machine, and to them, that made her less than human. In some way, she was eminently disposable. She was supposed to be the thing they threw at large-scale problems, letting her destroy as much of the opposition as she could before she was destroyed, and then to count it as complete success when she was.

But he could not do that. From the very moment she’d opened her eyes to this world, this imperfect, flawed, hateful world, she’d been the most beautiful thing in it, to him. He’d understood how parents must feel, when their children were born, and first gazed around with inquisitive stares. That his child was more mechanics than flesh hadn’t mattered even a little to him, nor did he think it should matter to anyone else. Had she not done the most human thing of all, in taking that shot for the person she loved? Solomon could not say he was well-pleased with where her emotion had been turned, but he understood that there was nothing to be done for it. Perhaps, in time she would understand that the real Teleus King would never treat her the way she deserved, and abandon the effort. He could only hope so.

But in the meantime, his job was to make sure that she survived her mistakes and her human errors, as any parent would. So he fought this program that threatened to take her away from him, with everything he had.

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Character Portrait: Crux Character Portrait: Uno Summus Character Portrait: Stella Iaret
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There it was once more the pulsating power circulating within his armor, inside his veins. Something made possible by the modifications done on himself and as hinted before, due to the inherent capabilities of his body. He could also feel the establishment of a link between his consciousness and Solla's once more. Though, it was not as intimate as it once was. There was now a very particular boundary between his perception and hers. That was for the good. He would need complete discretion on how to do things from here on out. Before, many believed that it was Solla's role to release his limits. That was part yet, the truth is to keep him always within limits.

At the departure of the Supreme General, Crux's attention was focused on the rather angry Stella R. Iaret. She seemed bothered with the fate befallen on Darcia. The human heart is truly fascinating is it not? Why should she care for someone who had many times attempted to kill her? Not only that, to invoke such emotional strength which was enabling her to route the power of Central to her purpose. Yes, it is the complexity of humanity. But, he believed that his brother stated before that it was not as complex as anyone could think of. Rather, it was just truly simple.

Probably, it was true.

She spouted words of bastard, coward, and betrayer. Interesting and nonsensical. He found it fascinating that these labels were not attached from him in the beginning. As such, they really are meaningless to him now. In his life, the greatest portion of it was dedicated to the nefarious deeds that others were afraid to do themselves. He manipulated people as coldly and efficiently to reach his goals. Delivered death that even the grim reapers would falter at its sight and amount. This is what he is and who he is faded into the darkness despite the indescribable pain echoing somewhere in that hidden nothingness. "What of it."

The very moment they separated. They will be enemies upon the next meeting. It was an established fact. Darcia took this path believing it is right. He took another knowing that it is correct for him. So you see, this was not a battle of right or wrong anymore. Instead, it was a fight to determine who has greater strength to make that right true. And then let history be the judge, as always. "Project Zero's love has no meaning. All that matters to me are orders." This is how it was supposed to be. For him to be looked upon as an entity of cold cruelty. As long as they do that, he will not hamper in his stated protocols. There would be no flaws.

Even if, they were pieces of a wish, he did not want to say for it would break him apart.

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Without faltering, Crux conglomerated the energy coming from Solla. The power in various domes flickered so frequently as a sign of an impending a blackout. All of it swirled around him in a vortex of raging power. Unlike the ones being attracted to Stella, his was now fundamentally different. He twisted it into a power meant for one thing. From the memories unexpectedly infused within him, he understood that the girl who was the heart and soul of the domes was afraid. She was going to be killed by another so like her. If that was so, she needed someone able to kill her... kill them... Pandora's Children. That was the true premise behind his second alteration. A being able to harness Pandora beyond its limitation as a source, yet it also brought a curse upon him. He had become their executioner.

"Activate Inferion."

All those energy concentrated at the tip of his rifle and released towards Stella, much like a raging meteor.



Trembling and shaking both in pain and in fear. Solla could feel the pull and the will of Pandora fighting against her. It was seared into the very fabrics of her existence. A vessel... that is how she had been viewed for as long as she had been chosen for this role. However in her perspective, she was more of a cage, a box. Something that should not be opened at all cost, if not to risk everything precious. It is why she is gripping on to it tightly. Because for the longest time, she had viewed it as nothing more but a horror. It was only recently she had seen it as her salvation from a fate forced upon her.

That is why she would not relent. Until, she breathes. She will not give in. Pandora will not be hers.

Everyone was fighting. Everyone is in turmoil. She could see it, hear it, smell it, feel it, and taste it. Even more so to the ones outside her chambers, the one who promised to never leave her alone. He could feel that resolve emitting from him like an unrelenting wave of flames. It is why she could hold on to this life. This is all because of him. As long as he is with her, she will not be alone... she will not be lonely anymore. So, this dream of hers, she will not let it end. Even if she has to plunge everyone else in nightmares of their own making. After all, they do not desire this world. She will grant them none of it.

He is finally back.

The connection to her knight had been returned. She could see that he was up against that spiteful girl. And so, she felt the violent swirl of vortex taken from her. She fell to her knees while embracing herself tightly. That girl was summoning its power again. However this time, it was forceful and violent than before. Something akin to that of something deeply attached to the heart. Biting her lower lip, she forced the remaining energy to be separated from the other domes. Until, Pandora is within her. That ingrate would not be able to wield it so casually.

Though, Central was now in rhythm with that vile girl.

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"I'm sorry... I can't be your knight anymore. My Solla..."

This vision triggered a desperate reaction from Solla. Tears fall from her eyes like a waterfall. Her eyes widened in fearful realization and the renewed scar from the past. She could never allow such a thing to happen again. That tragedy will not occur this time. It is why she had created him. To be the synthesis of an end, she was willing to unleash to everyone including herself. As such, she felt the pull of her power being directed and manipulated by Crux. It was fine of course. This is what he was intended for. She finally fell to the floor as she curled herself into a fetal position. Her breathing going ever so shallow as she closed her eyes tightly. The pain was so real and suffocating.

However, this was far better than the one she had suffered a long time ago.



Uno pushed himself even further. They say that true evolution is best seen on the field where one could not help but allow such things to occur on impulse. A natural adaptation which makes it more suited the situation that is meant to be a limitation. And so, his senses were enhanced at a level in which he could anticipate when the Prime Minister would impede his movement. Although, it was a different scenario what he must do to overcome the paralyzing grip. Regardless, his attacks were seamless and did not lax in deadly strength. Perhaps, it was also an added bonus that he was pumping with adrenaline. It can't be helped isn't it?

He was excited and determined to see through everything to the end.

Right at this moment, they were competing with who has the strongest wills. He would incorporate his blood manipulation against the Prime Minister. Though, the man was visibly more attuned with his power, much like Cass or even more than that red-haired guy. Accepting that fact, he just found it more thrilling. He would beat the man up and show that even if he has entered this whole SEED and Flower thing recently than anyone of them. There was no way he would be just a newcomer, he will surpass them in leagues more than they could ever anticipate.

Because if he did, then, he could... and she will...

Then, the lights were turned off. It was of no consequence to Uno really. He could see in the dark just fine. This made him wonder if this was Solomon's doing or rather Stella's. If that was so, the fight over there was becoming more intense than he had imagined. There was a string of worry inside of him. However, he did promise to treat her as an adult, meaning to trust her more that she will be able to handle it. As such, he would do that and let that concern be put aside for now.

Rather, he will be thanking her. There was an opportunity as darkness is his friend in such situations. He managed to pierce through the defensive skills of the Prime Minister who appeared a bit distracted. His sword finally touching the man's flesh and scattering blood. But as it did, he was pushed away in an explosive force.

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Landing on his feet, Uno placed one of his hands on the ground to stop himself from sliding further. His blade held at his side was now sporting stains of crimson which was the blood of no one else but the Prime Minister. "Got you." There was a coy and triumphant smirk upon his face. His orange eyes had an eerily glow behind them as he clearly see through the fog of darkness. "Worried, aren't you? Really, you must know. That Solla is lying to you. She really isn't needed anymore." His words might be considered very cruel, But, what the heck. That is truth of what was going on around them. "This is the testament to that." He implied the lack of power around them.

One could say, they were fighting for the proper course of things. Them? They were fighting to retain it. So, really this is indeed a war. And like a soldier, he dashed forward once more. But, what met him pushed him into defense as blood enclosed him and turned into a shell of protection.

This is the end and the beginning it seems.



This man was exceeding expectations. Caine did tell him that this other Flower will be surprising. Though, it was not something he could not take care of. As much as the others had evolved and took control of their abilities, Tirion had done the same. Perhaps, definitely, he was stronger than any of the SEEDs, his ability that encloses all that they have. Space manipulated to defend him. Kinetic movement halted to his will. Wish turned into reality as long as he focuses on that thought. Yet, this was all dampened by one thing only. It was the seething pain traveling throughout his body.

It was by the strength of will, he is able to endure and stand before them all without appearing degraded.

Nevertheless, he knew that Uno would begin to suspect something. For his attacks, they were losing the dangerous potency it has by the minute. Tirion could not let this battle be stretched any longer. And as if on cue, the power of Central disappeared around them. Lights that illuminated them, vanished. His eye showed curiosity of this and analyzation of what it could have caused it. Though, it was an advantage taken by his opponent who was not dissuaded by the shroud of black covering them now. That is right, this one has the ability to see through the blackness of anything.

So, he did not react properly when the blade finally slashed across his chest. It touched his flesh producing a bleeding wound. Tirion pushed him away with such explosion to create distance between them. After so, he placed a hand over his injury which would be the first time in the duration of his life as the Prime Minister. Surprising, really. Though, there was no need for such goading on Uno's part. He sees it as really annoying. His face reflected it.

As for the statement about being lied to by Solla, Tirion had his doubts. He always has. So, it did not come as a surprise. The sense of being imprisoned in the domes was by her will. He did what is expected of him to protect the people even if the methods would be best questionable. His life, his heart, his emotion, and his soul thrown away for the future of humanity. And so, he stands before them. Despite the lies, he had his share of telling and even extended it to others. This is the path he had chosen.

"Do not speak of things you do not have any idea of boy." His voice awfully cold and dangerous. And with that, Uno launched another strike towards him. Tirion lowered the hand on his chest to the side. Then, there was a grand explosion shaking the very foundation of Central which could also be seen from outside as dust and smoke served as proof.

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The entire section except for the door behind Tirion had been decimated. Torrential fires surrounded all of them. They danced with such rage and power. In all of it, Tirion stood unperturbed. As it would appear, this was all under control of the Prime Minister. "If war is what you want, I will give it to you." With that said, the fires appeared to have their own life as they began to travel much like limbs of a human to embrace Uno in a fiery embrace.

These fires will be their baptism and retribution. So, let everything burn.

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Character Portrait: Crux Character Portrait: Darcia Character Portrait: Uno Summus Character Portrait: Stella Iaret
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“I suppose in the end, we don’t have to agree.”



“I don’t believe you.” The statement was given flatly, starkly, with utter certainty. Nobody could be loved like that and not be affected at all. If there was any force in this world that could change anything, it was that. But it didn’t matter, in the end. Whether he was right or lying, he was standing in front of her, wielding this power on behalf of Solla, and that meant she needed to get through him to get to that girl. This was her burden. She had to do this No one else, just her. And deep down, she knew what that would mean, and she accepted it.

Because she, too, had been changed by that one thing.

When the rifle was pointed in her direction, Stella did not move. This was to become about their wills. If she was strong enough to do what she wanted, to free this world from its prisons, then she had to be strong enough to overcome this. No fleeing, no second chances. It was this or nothing, now or never. And she was resolved to do it. Even if it cost her everything she was.

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The heat of the blast was almost unimaginable, the sheer amount of energy in it overwhelming. But Stella stood her ground, reaching out towards it. The concentration of it distorted space and time in strange ways, and she could see the edges of her fingers dissolving, breaking apart as they joined that burst. Her molecular structure was falling apart beneath the pressure, and yet she remained. She could still feel herself. Oh, could she feel.

There was no word for it. Pain was as inadequate to describe it as water was to describe rain or the oceans she’d never seen. This was the power of the domes, contained in too small a space, and she reached for it, stepped towards it. She willingly gave herself to it, because to do otherwise would be to admit that it was somehow different from her. But it wasn’t—she understood that now. It wasn’t different from her at all. The energy disappeared, leaving the area around it undamaged, exactly as it had been in the seconds before the blast was fired.

When the light faded, nothing remained where Stella had once stood.




“Indeed, in this case, I can only hope you continue to think me wrong.”



The blast had gone off close enough that in all likelihood, if it had detonated in the way it was expected, it would have killed everyone else in the area, and of course that included Cass and Helena, who had come to a stop when it had been fired. When the light was gone and Stella was too, Cass fell to his knees.

“Stel?” The word was half-choked. “Stella?” His eyes swept the entire area, but there was no sign of her. It was almost as though she’d never been there at all. She was just gone, perhaps disintegrated by the shot from the gun, perhaps killed by some other means, but the important part was that she was simply gone.

He had failed her.

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Regardless of whether any of these people believed he was supposed to be her knight or whatever the hell they talked about, he had taken it upon himself to keep her safe, and it was evident now that he had failed in that. Darcia was down and possibly dead, Stella was vanished and most likely dead, and he had no idea what was happening to Uno right now, either. His friends were falling, and the withered hope that had only started to green again in his soul lost that luster and fell with them.

And that was when the sky seemed to split open.

A massive bolt of lightning struck Central, plunging the entire building into utter darkness. The outage spread as the power systems in all of Vie were overwhelmed by the surge. Though the climate control remained in place, everything else shut down, and torrents of rain began to pour forth from the sky, drenching everything.

A soft hand came to rest on his head, and he wasn’t concerned enough with it to shove her away. Helena sighed softly. This was his breaking point—the thing that would push him even further than he had already come. It was far from a gentle awakening, but it was needed. He was needed. When most people saw the flow of these events, they saw only the obvious players, and dismissed the importance of those on the sidelines. That was to some degree justified, but not for a master strategist like her. She understood the way in which each of them was vital and necessary—she would not have guided them all together if it were not needed.

“All is not lost.”

He turned his head and glared up at her, his eyes a burning red. Yes, he would become someone very mighty indeed, one day. Mightier than any of them had been. But not yet. “Isn’t it?”




“Disagreement drives the pursuit of truth, and fear drives evolution. Both are necessary.”



When the environment around them burst into flames, Dietrich’s eyes slid to the fight on the other side of the hallway. The flames that had been travelling for Uno warped and bent, twisting around him instead of burning him, but the scientist had other things to be concerned with right now. Like what, exactly, he was going to do about Ilyana.

She wouldn’t kill him, she said. Well, he was glad of that. He could not kill her either, even though logic dictated that it would be a much more expedient option than trying to figure out how to deal with her. The truth was, he believed that her refusal to kill him here had already marked her as a traitor, and Helena had probably known that would be the outcome when she sent her here. He knew quite well what happened to traitors in this society.

For the first time in longer than he could remember, Dietrich Engels was afraid. Not for himself—he had accepted the consequences of his actions when he undertook them, because there were other things that mattered more to him. But the idea of Ilyana meeting the same fate as he was terrifying in a way he didn’t expect.

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Fortunately, there were tools at his disposal for dealing with this problem. How convenient. He would not have put even planning down to this detail beyond her. She did her job so well, after all. “Forgive me, Illy,” he said softly, using the nickname from their childhood. A look of confusion crossed her face before he activated his power, and she vanished, moved to the one place he knew she would be safe.






Solomon sat back, staring hard at his computer screen, reaching up to rake his fingers back through his hair. She was gone. Darcia had been wiped clean, just as the hostile program intended it. He could only wonder what would become of her now. Had he done the right thing, bringing her into a world that would never be kind to her?

The time approached when he would find out.