Surgath Reigns: RUINATION

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Re: Surgath Reigns: RUINATION

Post by Terminus » Mon Nov 25, 2019 2:48 pm

TerminOS v3.2.8
Now Playing: The Vines- Get Free.

Armor Model: Terminus.
Active Module: None.

Pilot: Pendragon, Nicolas.
System Status: Reforming.

Massive Physical Trauma Sustained.

Moving reactively, Pendragon's armor had shifted as much of its mass as possible to the impact site of Surgath's incoming fist. He struck with a titanic force, one punch on par with the ballistic missiles that the Titan had just recently shrugged off with ease. All that this last-ditch defensive maneuver served to do was prevent the armored hero's bones from instantly liquefying.

The liquid-metal armor was blown off of Nicolas' body, leaving him exposed as he descended towards the Earth. Half the bones in his body were broken. Pain was his every waking moment. Terminus couldn't see straight- his vision swam, as the clouds rushed past. The armor was working on instinct now, silver metal shooting through the air, towards Pendragon's semiconscious form.

It enveloped him, a metal cocoon, just as he hit the ground. That fall was enough to send much of the armor sloughing off again. After an interminable stretch, Terminus stood. He called the armor to him, using it as a brace. Not enough of his body was intact to keep him upright. He'd need the suit just to move.

Something's wrong with my head.

Seizure Ongoing.

Nicolas was thinking surprisingly clearly, for someone undergoing a seizure. For that, he could thank his implants. Offloading a number of crucial mental processes into miniaturized computers, build directly into his cerebrum. The rest of his brain was abuzz with electrical activity, causing his body to malfunction. His breathing was off-tempo, coming in fits and starts. His heart kept refusing to beat.


Speaking was harder than it used to be. Words wouldn't form right. Pendragon opened his mouth, and no sounds escaped. There was some unconscious mechanism through which ideas became sentences, and that bridge had been burned to the ground. Nicolas swayed, and almost fell over. All that kept him from collapsing was the suit.


Before, everything had been too slow. Now, it was all too fast. Breaths came quick, like hyperventilation. Terminus' heart was beating fast enough that he could practically hear it. He blinked ten times in five seconds, willing his vision to clear.

Initiating Emergency Medical Protocol.

Terminus had crash-landed some distance from the actual battlefield. Among the wreckage of Sol's Hammer. Fitting. His creation had been broken, and now he was. But he could be fixed. The suit reached out, converting scrap metal to raw materials. It ate through the broken planet-killer, until there was a virtual flood of Esoterium. It poured onto Pendragon's suit, expanding the silver frame into something more powerful.

As this happened, the Terminus began fixing its pilot. Painkillers were administered, coagulants deployed. As the helmet enclosed his face, it applied a judicious shock directly to the spine, decisively ending the seizure. Pendragon passed out, and a stimulant dose immediately jolted him awake.


The hero's disorientation passed quickly. Having a full dose of artificial adrenaline pumped into your system tended to do that. His armor displayed a status report, without needing to be asked. The Titanic was out of commission. The team was struggling. Surgath still had every one of his Ynerax Stones. And there were multiple bogeys incoming.

Six machines crawled out of the wreckage of Sol's Hammer. Animated by the Reality Stone. The Society had already dealt with their own doppelgängers. Now it was Pendragon's turn. Not exact clones of him- they'd be less than useless, if so. Copies of his armor. Made from his own tech. They even looked the part- same color scheme, same tech.

Terminus stretched. His limbs felt numb. The armor was still working to fix his body, undo the damage that the double-whammy of a bone-breaking attack and a seizure had caused. But he could deal with this.

The armor's energy vents glowed red. Nicolas grit his teeth, and turned towards the approaching automatons. They picked up the pace, realizing that their target was conscious once more.


At once, each of the drones opened fire. Energy beams that glanced off of the reflective surface of the Terminus 3.0, not so much as slowing Pendragon down. He raised one arm, and unleashed a crimson beam, tearing through the chassis of one of Surgath's proxies. He was outnumbered, but far from outgunned. More vents opened on the suit, firing precision beams, which struck weak points only he knew of.

When the realized that ranged attacks were insufficient, the false suits began to attack more directly. They dive-bombed Nicolas, trying to bore through the layers of his armor, and met with little success. He swatted them away, tore the limbs off of one unfortunate enough to get too close. The lumbering armor's movements weren't agile. But speed lost out to strength, here.

It was almost embarrassing, watching these outdated models drop like flies. But it was a learning experience. Noticing these design flaws in a simulation was one thing. Seeing them get exploited in the field was wholly different.


Holding one of the broken suits in his oversized fist, Terminus advanced. He squeezed, feeling it crumple beneath the strength of this armor model. He tossed it to the side, and grimaced.

Okay. Now for the big guy.

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Re: Surgath Reigns: RUINATION

Post by Amicus » Tue Nov 26, 2019 3:30 am

Fox watched as paths unfolded, only able to help hinder too much damage and occasionally distract the titan. Fox was not a human, she did not have stake in this. Not truly. She could go anywhere she wanted, but chaos would follow her anyway. That was her curse. That her actions of long ago would never cease to effect her. Nobody where she went. Unfortunately, she could not take her host with her. It would not fix the problem. So, for his own sake, she allowed him to be put in harms way. Humans die eventually, and he accepted the risk.

Then came in the new factors. Someone arrived on the scene in a storm, quite literally. Battle was changing. Success was not certain still. But it was changing. She watched the hammer move to another. To its owner. Which was not Surgath. A slight smile formed as he dispelled the oncoming assault of Surgath. He might have retracted the external storm now. But that was only a piece of a much greater storm. The one they were dealing with right now.

And another attack from another of Surgaths challengers. Size of a marble or not. It carried with it far more force then one. She instinctively created the shield in front of her in preparation. as he tossed people out of the way, for them she reached out with unburning flames. That might seem concerning at first before it was realized all they were doing was slowing their descent. Not all of them, she could only aim for a few. They were harder to manage then regular fire for a purpose like this. She had to go only for the ones she thought might need it most. That and she had to ensure her own host survived, it wasn't her safety she was concerned about.

Then that marble sized nuke hit. Somehow contained within only the 100 feet he'd chosen. It was an incredible assault. But it would take its toll. And he began to fall from the sky. She might have tried to go to him first but the dragon had gone to him first. Dragon indeed. Fox didn't want to get to close, she wouldn't do much good doing so, but she also wanted to ensure that he wouldn't be in trouble after that and so in a swift burst of harmless fire she emerged near them, a wall of it forming between them and Surgath should the Titan send something their way. Almost any form of matter would be incinerated and tossed aside as if it were nothing, and as far as energy go, it would face a counter force of its own to throw it off course. She looked at the dragon and the boy, "If you have to get hi out of here, I'll do my best to ensure you do get that chance." Fox's words were calm and friendly, trying to ensure she got an honest response, "After something like that I'd understand not being able to continue. But choose fast. We do seem to have a new ally, but that doesn't mean success."

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Re: Surgath Reigns: RUINATION

Post by illirica » Tue Nov 26, 2019 11:20 pm

That's the path I've chosen for myself.

So, Surgath too had choices. She wondered if they were ones he'd made for himself, or ones that had been chosen for him - no choice at all, as Hector had once accused her. If there was someone making choices for him, though, it wasn't apparent... and at the very least, he was complicit in them.

There had been a moment, when she'd thought he might choose otherwise - his hand had unclenched for a moment, as if he might actually let go of the stones that he held. The stones that held him? She didn't know - whatever force it was, it was beyond science. However it was he had come to the decision, though, it was still the one that he was making, and that narrowed her choices, as well.
It was going to be war, then.

The black smoke whispered through the machine, wanting to be something more. Wanting to be called.

Not that choice. The smoke coiled, then was blown back by the sudden shockwave that crashed over the battlefield. A clash of Titans, or at least their weaponry - sword and hammer, the Stone of Power lending its own voice to the cacophony. It pulsed through the battlefield, no bulwark a true enough defense against the pervasion. She could feel it in every part of her body, disrupting her internal circuitry, sparks coursing between fragments of machinery. Teja was no stranger to pain, even on such a deep and cellular level, but it had not been something she'd felt so intrusively for... some time.

Nearly eight years now, wasn't it?

Deprived of their alignment, her myriad fragments crashed to Earth, unsupported by magnetic fields she could not control. Her hand moved to her watch, the physical command feeling eternally sluggish compared to the lightning-quickness, but it triggered in time, built-in JUMP gates catching the fragments before they could hit the tundra.

They would land elsewhere, in the desert. She could rebuild. She would have to. Darkness threatened - unconsciousness, or... no. The black smoke, again. It wreathed her where she knelt, dripping the contact fluid from the POWER:CELL at the heart of the machine, gone now with the rest of the parts. The ground was cold, but the air was warm, from the blast of another attack, from the sky. She'd missed it, but the earth rippled around her - not beneath her, though. A small island of control, just enough to kneel upon, but it was enough.

Above, the sky had darkened, the storms gone away, another energy source lost - but she had not... no. Myrmidon, the other Titan, had made his appearance and claimed back his own weapon. Teja couldn't help thinking that he'd certainly taken his sweet time to make his appearance... but it was a distracted thought, and she needed to focus. She generated energy, as always - it had always seemed too fast, and Hector had been trying to find a way to slow it down, but now it seemed far too slow. It was enough to whisper her SLIP suit into existence, not enough to power a machine. Not enough to power... anything.

Teja stood up anyway. The smoke coiled around her hand, drawing down. It could have been a blade, if she'd asked it to be. She refused. That was another fight - it was not this one. Her glance surveyed the battlefield, taking in information. Pendragon was occupied. Tremor was, or would be. Teja trusted her judgment. She was a hero, not a child.
Ah, she'd found her voice again.
"Decided to join us, after all?"
Refuge in sarcasm, was she turning into Hector Williams, now?

Teja supposed there were worse people to become. She certainly had options on that account, didn't she? She moved toward their newest ally, the man who called Surgath himself a brother. Myrmidon, bringer of storms. Bringer of lightning. Teja gave him a smile, amused. Pain twisted it, somewhat, but she wouldn't allow it to stop her. She focused on him, choosing the Invictus path instead, and trusting him.
"Hit me."

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Re: Surgath Reigns: RUINATION

Post by Mach2 » Wed Nov 27, 2019 1:33 am

Tremor had stood against opponents far stronger than she was more times than she cared to count. And every time, she had managed to hold her own. Fighting someone stronger was fine. Especially when she had the Society at her flanks. With a myriad of different skillsets and experiences to draw on, they could find an exploitable weakness in even the strongest of challenges.

The replicon was not stronger than she was. It was precisely equal, with identical abilities, strengths, and weaknesses.

She launched another shockwave, and watched in satisfaction as the construct was launched skyward. It halted there, floating for a fraction of an instant before the forces of gravity brought it tumbling once more towards the ground. Metal crunched against rock, and for a moment, Tremor was certain that she had ended the battle. But the droid extended a hand, and she noticed the positioning of its fingers too late to do anything other than brace herself. The shockwave blasted outwards, and, just as the mannequin seconds before, Tremor felt the contacts between her feet and the earth cease. A moment spent tenuously airborne, and then she collided once more with the ground - shoulder first, her helmet saving her skull from a more damaging impact. She groaned deeply and rolled onto her knees, sizing the automaton up. It was still standing, advancing, preparing to drive her into the ground with another of her own shockwaves.

And then it was gone. A wave of Surgath's palm, a glow of a stone, and the metallic clones faded into nothingness. Tremor turned her sights back to the Titan, gauging the ebb and flow between her allies and their enemy, looking for any opening where she could lend assistance.
It's coming. Get ready.
Her eyes darted from one figure to the next. Terminus. The Spider. Teja, hidden away within the depths of her own electronics. Arno. Others, whose names she did not even know, but who fought on her side. According to the butterfly perched on her shoulder, there would be an opening. "Where?" she asked, trying desperately to read the battlefield. "Amber, where?"

There was no answer from the butterfly. Instead, a voice boomed overhead with volume that could rival Tremor's own amplifications.


Her allies, the people she had been overseeing so intensely, arced overhead. Tremor raised a hand and dropped to a knee, shielding herself from the gale force that had displaced everyone in Surgath's immediate vicinity. But the winds did not move her.
Incoming. Now.
She saw it, an instant before it struck down. A tiny sphere, no bigger than a marble and traveling at terminal velocity. Tremor functioned at her highest capacity when her actions were driven by instinct rather than calculation. And the next seconds passed in a blur of raw reaction.

Her hands pressed against the frozen earth. The first ripples of impact vibrated against her fingertips. The foothills before the mountains, which proceeded at the speed of sound. The earth was no longer earth. It was melting around her, rendered a liquid by the force of the blast.

It was a wave. The scale of the oscillation was orders of magnitude larger than anything she had witnessed before, and she knew that she stood no chance of bringing the earth to a standstill. This wasn't a quake that could be cancelled simply by countering it with the correct frequency. But it could be lessened.

She screamed, pushing kinetic energy into the earth from every point of contact she could. Palms. Fingers. Knees. From her mouth through to her toes, Tremor willed herself into a conduit for raw, acoustic, energy. Waves of destructive interference radiated outwards from her body. The titanic force of the blast was contained within a relatively diminutive area, and Frankie Southam was the sole party responsible for lessening the aftershocks of the blast. Instead of bringing ruin to hundreds of miles of Alaskan tundra, the earthquake was merely devastating. Enough to rock the earth and disorient anyone standing upon its surface.

When the ground finally stilled, Tremor collapsed upon it.

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Re: Surgath Reigns: RUINATION

Post by Flint » Wed Nov 27, 2019 2:45 am


While Myrmidon reintroduced himself to the people of Earth and Scythia stood defiant before her father, Flint's perception was - all of a sudden - somewhere else. A creeping feeling up the back of his neck that he was neglecting something. The storm above them had condensed into the Earthbound Titan, whose weapon had returned to his grasp. But there was something else above them, something the clouds swirled around - a little speck. Like an ant.

His attention was ripped back to the battlefield as the respective wills of Surgath and Myrmidon clashed. With Höllenfeuer raised, he felt a wave of malice wash over him, rattling his teeth and stinging his cells. It was an effect of his proximity to the Titan. But Myrmidon's mental counter dispelled the temporary agony, and it ran off Flint as water would a coat.

But something still bothered him. Up in the sky...

Flint turned his head to look (damned missing eye). The lens he peered through zoomed in, and he cursed.

Kids. Why's it always have to be kids?

At least this little runt had the decency to warn them before blasting a hole in the fucking planet. If a meta child wasn't the threat itself, odds were it'd be responsible for ninety per cent of the friendly fire you'd encounter every mission. The only reliable teen hero was Tremor, and even then he'd been opposed to her being anywhere near anything dangerous until she was an adult that could make her own decisions.

These were the thoughts that ran through his mind moments before the mountain marble struck home.


The sullen soldier most people knew as Axiom muttered more to himself as a massive shockwave erupted across the warzone, one that swept him up in its clutches. A bunch of good he was, tossed like a rag doll at ground zero of a practically nuclear impact event. How many of these was he going to have to take in his life?

The answer was as many as necessary. Deterrence armor whined and strained against the impact. Reinforced bones held; organs didn't pop. And on the other side of the death wave, Tremor was doing her part to protect their allies - to protect Hector, too, far below the mantle, holding the world itself together.

Yeah, not like the other kids. Tremor was reliable, and she'd been there from the start. In fact, she was the first decent exo he'd ever met.

They'd been a team from the beginning, without even speaking to one another. Just a common sense of right and wrong, he figured, spiraling towards her.

Something about that brought a smile to his face.



He slid to a halt.


She was out cold. His brow knit tight together. She'd been injured, but her vitals were intact. His shoulders relaxed.

"Alright. You did most'a the work. Now take it easy for the rest of us."

Cupping his hand around her wrist, he keyed in the EVAC-bodyslide protocol. One coming up for James Novak, resident genius and amateur medic. She'd slip away into the void, teletransported to their exo-atmospheric satellite. Probably the safest place anyone could be, at the moment.

Concern subsided. Fear vanished. Focus returned.

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Re: Surgath Reigns: RUINATION

Post by Spider » Wed Nov 27, 2019 3:55 am

LONG LEGS and family
Jon Lieberman's Classic American Sitcom
"Are you okay? You're not blinking."

Then he screamed.

Surgath clutched Jon's neck and drilled his defensless body into Alaskan rock. His bones wrinkled, metal suit bored into the craters crevices. He tried to cry but leaking blood gurgled his throat and congested his vision, tearing out his juices that he begged to stay inside.

He wanted to make a joke, something about how you can't wear a gauntlet on only one hand - it's not balanced, then try to do a wrestling move to free himself that he totally forgot the name of. Even if he could despite dislocated ribs Surgath didn't give him the dying chance. Clipping him into the earth.

He heard stories about vehicle gunners getting beheaded and such, this was The Perfect situation for this to happen. Only having his head exposed, Jon tried to yell for help but the earth was collapsing his already deconstructed ribcage.

Shit.. shit shit.. All this needed was a little friendly fire, a little bit of an explosion and Jon's head would snap away and with Daddy Long Legs spider-sense tingling like a fucking seizure, that's exactly what was about to happen.

With everything he has left,

It hurts so much..


not to escape, but to get his cellphone out so he can call his loved ones one last time.

No signal..

With all this tech around him he was hoping that one of them had a free open hotspot or something. Then miraculously, Jon was aggressively dug out and whipped across the battlefield. An explosion happening behind him, he could sense it was a blast of pure white or at least that's all his eyes could make of it.

Turning on his back to watch the others, just to see if he still wasn't alone in this. Gasping as Axiom began to fiddle with Tremors SOS watch.

He was half expecting a thousand little rockets to fly, but it sent her home. Resting his head against the battlefield staring into the sky.

"... So that's what they do."
Last edited by Spider on Wed Nov 27, 2019 5:40 am, edited 1 time in total.

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Re: Surgath Reigns: RUINATION

Post by Lord of Nothing » Wed Nov 27, 2019 4:41 am

Seventy Five miles away
Surgath's Drones still constantly hovered about the battlefield, broadcasting to every corner of the earth as ants and titans fought for the fate of planet earth. All the while one singular family whom nobody knows and likely won't care about watches the action, able to do nothing but hide and survive. A mother, a father, a daughter and a dog.

"And...Oh my god. We have an impact from an as of yet unknown party. Hold on folks. We're getting something. It appears that the figure in the camera is none other than the child rampaging super criminal Billy Larson known simply as his self-assigned moniker Ultra. It appears he has launched a grievous attack one which threatens to wreak havoc on the landscape and anyone near-by. Any one known to be the Alaskan Area should be warned to take further measure from the ensuing Earth Quake."

The family feels it. They hear the terrifying noises above as their house they'd paid to have built into the Alaskan landscape came apart before the brutal waves. At this distance of perhaps 50 miles, they could scarcely hope to survive the nuclear impact as their basement bunker would come apart and bury them alive. But it didn't. There was a bit of dust shaken off from the ceiling.
Then nothing.

"Oh my. What's that noise? It seems that someone has. None other than one of SOS' younger super heroines Tremor. is counter-acting the destructive waves. She cannot stop but she has dampened them to far less severe levels all around. I can't believe my eyes. Even among the gods and titans duking it out, someone still remembers what it means to be a true hero. You've seen it here folks! It appears she has been taken out of commission yet still retrieved by her ally Axiom."

The Camera pans, people looking upon the crumpled form of Daddy long legs.

"Already some have fallen from amidst the brutal one man war the titan has waged against humanity. But perhaps there is some modicum of hope left. The question still yet remains...

....Can earth's defenders truly put an end to the world culler? Can what Earth has to offer stand up to a titan? We can only wait until the smoke clears and hope for what happens next."

Ground Zero
"But mom I won't wanna go to school..." He smiled, his eyes still closed but he was clearly awake.

He feels oddly at peace. As though there was nothing wrong. Nothing at all. Ryoko spoke and Ultra's expression didn't change. "Ugh. Quite being so mushy on me. You're going to make my powers malfunction again." Contrary to what she may have thought, he didn't seem to have a problem resting in his arms. "I was kinda counting on you to catch me actually. Thanks. Really. But I guess the free ride's over right."

There was a smile for a moment, before slowly, his eyes open to see the small disaster he had been responsible for as he gradually floated out of Ryoko's soft and welcoming arms.


He opened his eyes, peering down the hole that would have tunneled down to the earth's very core. The entire planet inbound to receive a comparatively minor shudder from the mountain destabilizing and explodes into molten plasma like it ought to. Although near the core of the earth hopefully. Maybe it already happened. He was asleep so he wouldn't really be able to know.

"Thanks for the concern. Both of you." He says, nodding to the woman who put up the fire shield.

He wipes away the blood from his nose.

"But this fight isn't over yet. And neither am I. I know this isn't enough to kill the guy. My head hurts. Put a real dent on my reserves But I've still got more than enough power left. I'd been watching Surgath fight since before anyone even showed up. Watching. All while I was preparing that."

His fists clenched as he hovered there in the air and he couldn't look more certain of what was about to happen. His own reality, tempered with realism and caution. Something seen as not ideal. Not easy. But achievable. He wrote a plan in his mind in, carved into wet putty. Ever amorphous and ready to adapt to the chaos that other factors brought. But still something he was fairly certain of.

"I dunno about you. But I'm ready to get up into his fucking face. Just hope everyone has a plan b. "

He starts to float down. No giant, magnificent aura. Just a 5 ft 4, thirteen year old jet black-haired boy with a tattered red cape, a white t shirt, some blue jeans and some sneakers. He yelled, and he did so in his normal voice.

"HEY YOU GIANT PURPLE DILDO! DON'T TELL ME THAT WAS ALL IT TOOK TO KILL YOU!!!!" His body and mind relaxed, but ready to tense at a moment's notice.

Lethe, The Once Reaper
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Re: Surgath Reigns: RUINATION

Post by Aether » Wed Nov 27, 2019 6:59 pm


He now knew what it was like to be Teja Docesznic.

Frankly, he owed her an apology-- all those years spent on the sidelines, and he finally knew why she'd relegated herself to defense instead of charging headstrong into conflict like the Akhilleus of old had done countless times in their tumultuous past. It wasn't until he was here, standing at the fringes of the conflict zone with his knees and palms pressed to the earth that he fully realized why she'd done it.

Because somebody had to.

Each shockwave was fire in his blood, each crack within the earth taken doubly unto his own body in silent, agonizing neutralization. He had to, didn't he? Every vibration that chilled his bones and scorched his muscle was another life saved, another innocent kept out of harm's way from the roiling earthquakes and continent-shattering blows that threatened to topple the natural order and end the lives of those who could not defend themselves. How many lives had Teja saved, in her time as a ward? Hundreds? Thousands? Maybe that figure was enough to rival the amount of people Hector had killed-- but that was just their nature, wasn't it? Opposites to the very core, to the very grain of their character, because inversion was ingrained within their nature, condemning them to an eternity of attraction.

It felt wrong, being here at the utmost edge of the conflict like some sort of coward who couldn't fight for himself-- but he knew why he was here, just as he knew why Teja was not. He was the shield; she was the spear. Two halves of the same arsenal, condemned to their respective roles and qualities-- and yet ...

And yet.

The tidal swell of energy that shattered the ground before him went no further than the bundled edge of his verdant cape, as if each crackling earthquake had suddenly struck an invisible and insurmountable wall of which there was no equal. Four miles, the diameter of the enclosure stretched, and it took every ounce of his concentration to preserve the transparent hemisphere of attraction and absorption. The only reason he was able to execute such a maneuver was because his body yearned for that which it couldn't attain: life, and the energy that brought it. As the war raged on, a husk toed the edge like a vulture's beak which pecked at festered carrion remnants of violence and force.

Truthfully, the task only grew easier as time dragged on. The effusion of energy across the radius he'd constructed meant he absorbed amounts of energy that would have torn a regular human into ashen fragments-- and while the collected energy roiled within his muscles and mind, the cognitive abilities possessed by the undying Akhilleus only seemed to heighten. Concentration became easier; the senses were honed; the whine in his ears rose in volume, and the faintest of heartbeats sputtered deep within his chest before fading into a stark nothingness. Coward. What was he doing here, just sitting around?

Why wasn't he doing something?


No response-- only static, and the dull whine of his internal monitors. The IRIS returned a small message at the bottom left of his visor.


"Truncate." Williams hissed out from under his breath, a tense of his neck shaking the head of the Styx back and forth. Fuck. A flash across the sky drew his attention to the blinding flash of fire and energy, visible from miles away, and his heart jumped within his chest-- as did the void which sat beneath it. He could feel the heat even now, far away from the source yet inexplicably close with the honing of his sixth sense. He was doing nothing here except delaying the inevitable.

Now, it was time to face it.

The shockwave from another faraway detonation rippled his cape, but it fell no further. A slow creak of the Styx brought Hector from knee to boot, his azure gaze sweeping over the distant horizon where blood was spilled. Another wave was unleashed-- different in signature than all else, otherworldly, arcane.

From the stone. Not Reality, not Space, certainly not Time-- but the one which was integral to Akhilleus himself.

What was it she always reminded him about?

Breathing. That was it.

"Tagging in." He whispered. Whether or not a soul besides his own would hear the words, he didn't know. All he could do, now, was arrive.

And, with a monolithic crack of the engines within his boots and palms, he did just that.

The ground beneath him shattered, but only for a moment-- the runoff tremors from his thrusters' activation was subsequently absorbed back into his own body after detonation, stilling the earth into silence as he screamed through the frigid Alaskan air towards the center of the fight. His suit fed him information that was increasingly becoming more and more useless as he neared his destination-- a neural command shut the feed off entirely, leaving only the frigid breaths from deadened lungs to fog up the plate of his visor with rhythmic sweeps. His eyes darted over the rapidly-traversed landscape, the seconds passing by like hours upon a clock as his perception became skewed, his mind became tunneled, and the sound of battle drew near.


An inhalation settled the anxiety within his gut, and an exhalation expelled the feeling to introduce clarity. There-- set within a steaming crater of ire and violence was the primary target, his weapons laid bare except for the gauntlet upon his hand and the sword within his fist. The sky darkened with the concentration of a storm, and Hector figured that now was a good a time as any to make his little entrance.

If there was a dime left to float within the air, he would have turned upon it; nearly perpendicular in his descent to earth, the body of Akhilleus very nearly became a supersonic blur as his own ability incurred the violation of classical physics. The heat within the air, an aftermath of the concentrated explosion, was usurped in an instant by Hector's unyielding curse, the thermal energy dragged into his own form to add to the collective whole. Between the shockwaves, the fire, and the electric aura within the air, he'd absorbed quite a bit of power.

It was about time to use it.

Hector fell behind the indigo Titan with a scream of the Styx's attached turbines, crashing into the ground with enough force to dispel permafrost and dirt alike; ice crawled over the displaced fragments as his ability sprawled out to the surrounding environment, freezing the upturned rock and dust where it lay. Blood would freeze within wounds; sweat would turn into solid frost across the brow. Williams allowed no time to go to waste, hoping to exploit his foe's brolic posture with an attack upon the flank. His leg became a blur as he kicked out from the crater he'd created, the extension of knee and ankle sending out a thundercrack of displaced air as his attack broke the sound barrier once more-- and his boot, lethal as it was, aimed itself to strike upon the sensitive crook of the knee and cripple the limb to bring the Titan down upon one leg.

Not caring if his initial offensive worked, the gauntlets of Akhilleus snapped out to wrap around the one object of his desire-- his mission, here, and the artifact which his own void hungered for.

The fingers of the Styx slashed across the gauntlet and pried at the mauve stone of Power, seeking to lift it free from the gilded glove with all the strength he could muster and claim it as his own.

"I'm Hector." Williams grunted through it all, a trademark among introductions.

"But you already knew that, didn't you?"
Heroism is accessible. Happiness is more difficult.

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Re: Surgath Reigns: RUINATION

Post by Scythia » Mon Dec 02, 2019 6:06 am


>If he attacks, pull back my direction. I can help shield.<

A voice spoke under the commotion of battle, and 236 recognized Teja Docesznic's tone.
She shook her wrist, where the watch sat uncomfortably close to where she'd once worn the cuffs of bondage, and hoped the human leader could take that as an indication she'd been heard. In the meantime, she kept her eyes on the Titan of Progress, listening, painfully, to what he had to say. Some of it didn't make sense, but what she could make out, he was almost apologizing. Not for what he had done to the universe - but what he had done to her, as if actions she could not remember mattered more than genocide.

Another man came up on her flank, and she let him come, understanding his message clearly.
She didn't give him a response, for the same reason he didn't interrupt Surgath's monlogue. People like them didn't need words to understand things. It wasn't their turn yet, though. Other attacks came, one by one - a man in armor, one she knew by reputation more than recognition as a human technopath called Pendragon, assailed the gauntlet directly, while from the other direction, flames hotter than mere fire licked the back of the Mad Titan.

And he still stood.

She wasn't sure what she'd expected. Maybe for them to have had some effect - some kind of impact. But... nothing.
The armored figure was cast away, the massive beast ignored, and the Titan still stood, not even looking worse for the wear. The giant struck the two weapons together, and 236 could feel the impact coming. Thunder shook the field, once... and then twice, as the discarded axe twitched with a will of its own to disappear from view, to rejoin its rightful owner, and to throw back the sound with enough force to nullify it entirely. A familiar figure swept the field behind the sound and challenged Surgath to his face, and 236 could not resist the hints of a smile that blessed her as she readied her swords.

She was ready. Her time had come to prove herself among the heroes of earth,
to show her prowess alongside her supposed uncle, among her allies. To give them a reason to trust her. She shifted, a coil ready to spring up and tear down the titan called Progress - but her chance was torn from her, as she was torn from her place by a power she couldn't control. Was that Surgath? No, it had come from outside, another place. Then one of her allies? Why would they...

The battlefield where she had just stood liquefied, and, belatedly, she understood.
A moment was necessary for reconnaissance, to check on the wounded, but the shapeshifting beast that had burned Surgath had caught him, and he was already back on his feet. There was fire in his words, a fire that 236 could respect from her own experience. The other badly injured was being tended to by the same man who had offered 236 his protection. Others needed it more, she knew, watching him take care of the human girl not far from 236's own position.

Everyone else seemed alright. She pulled herself to her feet before they could think otherwise of her,
even if Myrmidon was nowhere in sight. The air had superheated in seconds, but stone did not remain molten for long in a northern climate like this. The cold winds were already recoiling back from the infernal heat, sucked in for precious oxygen above the plain of plasma. It wouldn't be long before the temperature evened out, and when it did, Slave 236 would not hesitate to step forward.

It's my turn, then. Let them recover.

"You're wrong."
The ground was cooling under her boots, but it tried to burn through the foreign armor. She didn't care if it did.
This would not have killed him. Wounded, perhaps - thrown down, as intended, cast away and burned and crushed - but not killed. Any father of hers would continue to fight, continue to withstand. She was still far, but the recoiling wind from the sheer force of the assault would carry her voice.
"I am not like you. I will not become like you - slave to a purpose. Whatever we are, whatever I'm 'meant' to be, holds no significance to me. It shouldn't mean anything to you, either - in fact, it seems to have taken any meaning from your life and crushed it. You said it yourself: You've failed, because of everything you have tried to be."

The distance was closing, but her voice was only rising. Hopefully, Myrmidon had been dragged away
by the same force that had taken Scythia, and hopefully, he would be returning even as she did. But she didn't care if she was here alone, either. She had said something to Teja Docesznic, perhaps even made a promise.

I am capable... of violence.

"I don't want to kill you because you failed me, but for the trillions of lives you've taken without a thought, all in the name of your law.You're beyond saving, but I hope you know your progress has destroyed more than it can ever hope to create!"

The blades hummed back to life in her hands. Perhaps he held the power of the universe in his own hands, but another shard of that force surged through his daughter as well, and perhaps in the gold of her eyes, behind the hate and the rage, he might see it, lurking, hiding, even now, still afraid that it would be ripped free.

"And if that's the price of my Finality? Then you can't be more wrong, Dad. A law that threatens everything...
That is no Law of mine."

She could not see through the smoke and steam and dust, but she could hear just fine. Another screamed from the sky,
with the same apparent assumptions that she'd made about Surgath's ability to survive the massive attack. She could see their shadows in the smoke, and watched the caped figure take one of the mad Titan's flanks. She lowered her head and quickened her pace, twisting her course to intercept the opposite leg before her reported father had time to react.

She got close enough to hear the man speak, a brief introduction, and she also already knew him.
He'd been there when Myrmidon and Teja Docesznic brought her into this. He hadn't liked her very much, but she felt that, as she brought her weapons up into Surgath's thighs, fully intending to hamstring him and bring him down where she could look him in the eye to berate him.

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Re: Surgath Reigns: RUINATION

Post by Sigil » Tue Dec 03, 2019 4:13 am

The white world turned black and red. The storm raging overhead blocked the sun and the only light they had was the occasional pool of yellow light. Sigil's hands tore through metal, his invisible claws rended it into oblivion, and his tentacles compressed it down into small cubes. He was too strong, too fast, and too savage for these creations to keep up.

Bursting across the battlefield he ripped and tore through his enemies as if they were little more than sheets of paper until they dissolved into a red mist. The stone Surgath had used to create these beasts had been disabled which meant that Sigil's attention was brought back to the violet villain. Blood sprayed from behind his gnashing jaw. His veins visibly began to pump black blood through him, his powers were pushing him beyond what he should've been capable of. He could feel his heart beating faster than it had before. Working to the point where rhythmic pulses could be seen in his chest. Fingers dripped thick black ichor onto the ground forming small pools and the manifestation above him began to become more real than it should've.

He charged forwards, the two story shimmering form that moved with him began to become more and more visible. It's unnatural movements were now visible to those fighting here. Eldritch energy radiated from him and his powers were at their maximum, he could get no stronger without risking his own death. Every movement tore his skin open and painted him a sickly black.

His target was Surgath, he only wanted Surgath. He would plow through any and all to get to Surgath. His legs carried him forwards despite protest from whatever was trying to pull him away. His mind focused only on Surgath despite the impact fast approaching. A weapon he himself had given to Ultra to use against Surgath which he had forgotten was in play. The only things that existed in this fight for Sigil were himself and Surgath. The eldritch beast raised it's mighty claw, a set of bladed fingers that dwarfed the Titan seeking to turn his body into ribbons instead was pulverized. The marble ripped through the hand of the beast, spraying searing galons of eldritch essence down onto Surgath while the marble impacted the earth. Sigil's arms lifted to protect him from the blast, his body shot backwards, but he wasn't fast enough to escape the white hot explosion that engulfed his vision.

He awoke, unable to move, and back in control of his own body. The manifestation was gone and with it any memory of it having existed in the first place vanished as well. He was close to Surgath, he knew that much, he could only hope Surgath hadn't survived. His skin was covered in blisters and burns. Lacerations that spewed red blood onto the ground slowly mended themselves back together. He could move his fingers, that was good, then his toes, that was also good. He called on the his powers to help him move but, they couldn't. Whatever was inside of him was wounded, it would need time to heal, and that meant he was nothing more than a normal person among gods.

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