gigadevilbreaker (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
gigadevilbreaker) wrote2025-05-11 01:22 pm
gigadevilbreaker) wrote2025-05-11 01:22 pm
Imeeji - Profile
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twicebondedtwicebonded- Shortsword (gift from Shishiou) named Black Falcon (with carving)
- Katana (gift from Harpy) named White Eagle
-Flintlock pistol named Silver Lion - gifted to Nova
- Red Queen - revs like a motorcycle, fused with a flamethrower to ignite the blade in flames when revved
- child-sized katana from Raven, named Crow
- a plain knife from Kohime, named Kyle
- Grappling hook claw hand prosthetic ("Grappler")
- Skin covered hand with nerve endings and taser ("High Voltage")
- Segmented whip sword prosthetic ("Axel Rose")
- Wooden repeating crossbow prosthetic ("Acacia")
- Advanced grappling gun prosthetic
- ???MYSTERY ARM???
- Katana (gift from Harpy) named White Eagle
-
- Red Queen - revs like a motorcycle, fused with a flamethrower to ignite the blade in flames when revved
- child-sized katana from Raven, named Crow
- a plain knife from Kohime, named Kyle
- Grappling hook claw hand prosthetic ("Grappler")
- Skin covered hand with nerve endings and taser ("High Voltage")
- Segmented whip sword prosthetic ("Axel Rose")
- Wooden repeating crossbow prosthetic ("Acacia")
- Advanced grappling gun prosthetic
- ???MYSTERY ARM???
Edited 2021-03-22 19:16 (UTC)
Video here
June 15, 7:25 am
"What the hell?"
Just as they lay L███ down to rest, the entire van shakes. He looks out to see a giant demon, its colossus-like body towering over the warehouse rooftops with armoured plating, entwined by living, coiling tendrils. Every step causes tremors.
"Whoa... he's too big to leave alone. Better take care of it." He grabs his sword and, as an aside to N███, he says, "Stay alert," as he hops out the van, sizes it up.
Probes begin blasting at him as he runs at it with inhuman speed, sliding, dashing across walls.
Marauding titan
Gilgamesh
"Look at this asshole, prancing around..." There's a weak spot - a pulsing clot of blood - on the top of the colossus. He'd have to get up there by swinging on the wire tether on his arm (or riding a rocket fist like an airborne skateboard), but once he's there? His sword was revved and ready to wail on it until it falls.
Sure, V might've helped a little from underground. But really... he did all the work bringing this thing down.
June 15, 7:25 am
"What the hell?"
Just as they lay L███ down to rest, the entire van shakes. He looks out to see a giant demon, its colossus-like body towering over the warehouse rooftops with armoured plating, entwined by living, coiling tendrils. Every step causes tremors.
"Whoa... he's too big to leave alone. Better take care of it." He grabs his sword and, as an aside to N███, he says, "Stay alert," as he hops out the van, sizes it up.
Probes begin blasting at him as he runs at it with inhuman speed, sliding, dashing across walls.
Marauding titan
Gilgamesh
"Look at this asshole, prancing around..." There's a weak spot - a pulsing clot of blood - on the top of the colossus. He'd have to get up there by swinging on the wire tether on his arm (or riding a rocket fist like an airborne skateboard), but once he's there? His sword was revved and ready to wail on it until it falls.
Sure, V might've helped a little from underground. But really... he did all the work bringing this thing down.
- Small toolkit (includes carving tools)
- Pack of post-it notes and pens from a stationery set
- Sewing kit
- art kit with sketchbook
- grooming kit
- acoustic guitar
- 10 music albums
- portable speakers
- gift wrapping paper
- Pack of post-it notes and pens from a stationery set
- Sewing kit
- art kit with sketchbook
- grooming kit
- acoustic guitar
- 10 music albums
- portable speakers
- gift wrapping paper
Edited 2019-12-28 22:41 (UTC)
It's evening - mass is being held, and the entire town attends.
Burning braziers and lamplight cause shadows to flicker across the grand arches of the cathedral, where in the center stands a tall, imposing statue that looks out over the congregation where a cross would normally be: it depicts a powerful robed figure standing with his sword, and two downward curving horns that tell of his demonic origins. Their saviour, the Dark Knight Sparda.
White hoods adorn every man, woman and child in the pews, each one embroidered with the symbol of the Order of the Sword. It gives a cult-like appearance to the gathering, and a young ████ pulls his over his head a little tighter over his head. His hood is a hand-me-down, just like all his clothes, his shoes. They're old, peppered with holes, but they're the best the orphanage had to give him.
K████ had invited him to sit with her and her family during the ceremony. They're kind. She's a year older, and already so much taller than him at 9 years old. At first he was glad to sit with a friend, but he regrets it now. Voices of other children whisper at him from behind his pew, they throw balled up bits of paper and poke him to try and get a reaction.
"Why'd they even let him in here?"
"Everyone knows his mom's a whore"
"Hahaha!" "Shh shh!"
"I bet she was a hag, too"
"Duh - that's why he has white hair."
"Ohhh look at that, he's shaking."
"He's totally gonna cry!"
It takes all the willpower in his little body not to start a fight in the middle of a sermon. His hands grip the seat edge, trying to anchor themselves so they don't instinctively form a fist. Sensing his frustration, K████ puts her left hand over his right, sympathetic, trying to soothe his anger.
It works, barely. He stomachs the quiet jeers up until the choir begins singing, which one of the boys takes as a cue to yank his hood off. He bristles instinctively, feeling his hair exposed. His head jerks back to snap at his bullies, ready to let his pent up rage spill over: "Hey!"
K████'s older brother, C████, hisses at him. "Don't make a scene, ████!" He's always been a stiff rule-follower, and now even moreso that he wants to become a Holy Knight. The gentle hand over his tightens, in concern rather than discipline. He deflates, despite the pain still welling up inside him.
"Awww, he needs K████ to make him feel better."
"Does she tuck you in at night too?"
"Is she your new mommy?"
It's not until he hears, "I bet K████'s a whore too," that he snaps.
"SHUT UP!" He leaps over the pew and lands a solid punch to the face before the orphanage matron pries him off and drags him out by the ear. No dinner tonight, her voice sharp like a whip as she reams him for starting yet another fight.
When he goes to bed, his stomach is growling and he's clutching an old black blanket. It's the only thing he ever got from his parents, and he wonders why they left him in this place - where demons are painted like angels and stare at him from the walls.
He doesn't cry, though. Like so many nights, he pulls the blanket around himself like a shawl, and falls asleep wishing they'd come back for him.
Burning braziers and lamplight cause shadows to flicker across the grand arches of the cathedral, where in the center stands a tall, imposing statue that looks out over the congregation where a cross would normally be: it depicts a powerful robed figure standing with his sword, and two downward curving horns that tell of his demonic origins. Their saviour, the Dark Knight Sparda.
White hoods adorn every man, woman and child in the pews, each one embroidered with the symbol of the Order of the Sword. It gives a cult-like appearance to the gathering, and a young ████ pulls his over his head a little tighter over his head. His hood is a hand-me-down, just like all his clothes, his shoes. They're old, peppered with holes, but they're the best the orphanage had to give him.
K████ had invited him to sit with her and her family during the ceremony. They're kind. She's a year older, and already so much taller than him at 9 years old. At first he was glad to sit with a friend, but he regrets it now. Voices of other children whisper at him from behind his pew, they throw balled up bits of paper and poke him to try and get a reaction.
"Why'd they even let him in here?"
"Everyone knows his mom's a whore"
"Hahaha!" "Shh shh!"
"I bet she was a hag, too"
"Duh - that's why he has white hair."
"Ohhh look at that, he's shaking."
"He's totally gonna cry!"
It takes all the willpower in his little body not to start a fight in the middle of a sermon. His hands grip the seat edge, trying to anchor themselves so they don't instinctively form a fist. Sensing his frustration, K████ puts her left hand over his right, sympathetic, trying to soothe his anger.
It works, barely. He stomachs the quiet jeers up until the choir begins singing, which one of the boys takes as a cue to yank his hood off. He bristles instinctively, feeling his hair exposed. His head jerks back to snap at his bullies, ready to let his pent up rage spill over: "Hey!"
K████'s older brother, C████, hisses at him. "Don't make a scene, ████!" He's always been a stiff rule-follower, and now even moreso that he wants to become a Holy Knight. The gentle hand over his tightens, in concern rather than discipline. He deflates, despite the pain still welling up inside him.
"Awww, he needs K████ to make him feel better."
"Does she tuck you in at night too?"
"Is she your new mommy?"
It's not until he hears, "I bet K████'s a whore too," that he snaps.
"SHUT UP!" He leaps over the pew and lands a solid punch to the face before the orphanage matron pries him off and drags him out by the ear. No dinner tonight, her voice sharp like a whip as she reams him for starting yet another fight.
When he goes to bed, his stomach is growling and he's clutching an old black blanket. It's the only thing he ever got from his parents, and he wonders why they left him in this place - where demons are painted like angels and stare at him from the walls.
He doesn't cry, though. Like so many nights, he pulls the blanket around himself like a shawl, and falls asleep wishing they'd come back for him.
Wears on left ring finger:
Wears this ring on a chain from his neck:
Lucky charm necklace from Camellia
Rings from D.Va
Bought:
Wears this ring on a chain from his neck:
Lucky charm necklace from Camellia
Rings from D.Va
Bought:
Edited 2021-02-24 19:25 (UTC)
Video here
June 15, 4:24 am
Red Grave and its surrounding cities have ceased to function as a result of the mysterious tree that apparently attacked the city approximately one month ago. In light of this incident, the government has now--
Click
--They're demons! I've seen them with my own eyes! Red Grave is completely taken over!
Click
Let us pray for mercy. This is a trial from the heavens above... The end--
Click
"Same crap, different day." He flicks the police scanner radio off and moves to get up. "So, tell me--"
The Southern drawl of his partner interrupts him. "Tell you what?"
"How's it feel to be rescuing the guy that killed your father?" He walks over to the jukebox sitting behind them in the van and picks himself a song to replace the radio chatter.
"Hey, I'm glad we're gettin' personal. Well, he abandoned my mother and I and left us for dead," she reaches for a cigarette as her voice darkens, "So I. Feel. Nothin'."
He returns to the shotgun seat while giving her a glancing tap of solidarity to the shoulder. "Well he's not exactly goin' for a Father of the Year award, now is he?" Kicks his boots back up on the dashboard, hunkers in for the rest of this long drive. She breaths out a secondhand smoke, sighing.
"His research wasn't half bad. Came in handy... mildly thankful for that."
Ugh. The smell. He makes a face when it reaches him, and rolls down the window. "Do you hafta do that in here? It already smells like ass..."
"That's you."
As he sticks his head out to try and get the stink out, he catches sight of the road in front of them: demons, scuttling about the wreckage of cars in the abandoned city. "Hey, N███--!" he starts to warn her, but she's already on it.
"Don't lose your tits, I see'em."
She hits the pedal. Their shitty old van smashes into every demon in the way, swerving and splattering the fuckers on the windshield.
"Hey, do you have to hit every bump in the road?" She laughs back at him, and he sticks himself out the window with Blue Rose drawn-- "Gonna ruin my groove!"
BANG! BANG! Each pull of the trigger makes his wild smile grow larger, picking off stragglers in their path. When a flaming 10 car pile-up swarming with demons appears in the middle of the road, the two of them only need to shoot each other a look to know what comes next. N███ swerves the wheel, sending the van flying, rolling through the air as he swings himself out the open window and,
in a matter of seconds, almost in slow motion, he springs from car to car, blasting demons with his revolver and only a single arm to his name. Eight shots fired, every one a kill. He slips seamlessly back through the open window and into his seat right before the oldass vehicle touches asphalt again. With a twirl, he holsters Blue Rose and - looking over, seeing N███ with a new cigarette, he grabs the lighter from where it fell on the ground and lights it for her.
...Still not a fan of smoke, though.
They drive on - only a quarter mile until Red Grave, now.
June 15, 4:24 am
Click
--They're demons! I've seen them with my own eyes! Red Grave is completely taken over!
Click
Let us pray for mercy. This is a trial from the heavens above... The end--
Click
"Same crap, different day." He flicks the police scanner radio off and moves to get up. "So, tell me--"
The Southern drawl of his partner interrupts him. "Tell you what?"
"How's it feel to be rescuing the guy that killed your father?" He walks over to the jukebox sitting behind them in the van and picks himself a song to replace the radio chatter.
"Hey, I'm glad we're gettin' personal. Well, he abandoned my mother and I and left us for dead," she reaches for a cigarette as her voice darkens, "So I. Feel. Nothin'."
He returns to the shotgun seat while giving her a glancing tap of solidarity to the shoulder. "Well he's not exactly goin' for a Father of the Year award, now is he?" Kicks his boots back up on the dashboard, hunkers in for the rest of this long drive. She breaths out a secondhand smoke, sighing.
"His research wasn't half bad. Came in handy... mildly thankful for that."
Ugh. The smell. He makes a face when it reaches him, and rolls down the window. "Do you hafta do that in here? It already smells like ass..."
"That's you."
As he sticks his head out to try and get the stink out, he catches sight of the road in front of them: demons, scuttling about the wreckage of cars in the abandoned city. "Hey, N███--!" he starts to warn her, but she's already on it.
"Don't lose your tits, I see'em."
She hits the pedal. Their shitty old van smashes into every demon in the way, swerving and splattering the fuckers on the windshield.
"Hey, do you have to hit every bump in the road?" She laughs back at him, and he sticks himself out the window with Blue Rose drawn-- "Gonna ruin my groove!"
BANG! BANG! Each pull of the trigger makes his wild smile grow larger, picking off stragglers in their path. When a flaming 10 car pile-up swarming with demons appears in the middle of the road, the two of them only need to shoot each other a look to know what comes next. N███ swerves the wheel, sending the van flying, rolling through the air as he swings himself out the open window and,
in a matter of seconds, almost in slow motion, he springs from car to car, blasting demons with his revolver and only a single arm to his name. Eight shots fired, every one a kill. He slips seamlessly back through the open window and into his seat right before the oldass vehicle touches asphalt again. With a twirl, he holsters Blue Rose and - looking over, seeing N███ with a new cigarette, he grabs the lighter from where it fell on the ground and lights it for her.
...Still not a fan of smoke, though.
They drive on - only a quarter mile until Red Grave, now.
Video from 0:00 to 5:09
2,000 years ago...
The Dark Knight Sparda turned against his demon bretheren,
And took up his sword for the sake of mankind.
Though despite his brave efforts in our names,
I fear some have forgotten the truth of his great sacrifice.
Another boring sermon. Among the sea of linen hoods bowed in devout contemplation, he's the only one restless, bored out of his mind - listening to music on his headphones and wishing he was anywhere but here. His right arm is bound up in bandages, held in a sling. The man sitting beside him gives him a brief, judgy glance for his irreverence and he glares back - what're you gonna do about it?
He doesn't want to be here, but he promised K████ he'd come.
If the events of that terrible time were to reoccur,
The fusing of both the demonic and human realms,
We, weak humans,
Would have no means by which to oppose our submission.
K████ returns, as inconspicuously as she can, now changed out of her ceremonial garb. When she approaches the empty spot next to him, he turns his head and looks away. Pretends not to notice her as he holds his headphones to his ear. For a moment she's crestfallen, until she notices the elegant gift box waiting for her in her seat - a congratulations he's embarrassed to be giving. Smiling, she picks it up and holds it close, before sitting next to him.
And so I ask you to unite!
And pray that even if such a dark time of chaos were to revisit us,
Our gracious Saviour would shelter us from the storm.
Let us pray!
His Holiness bows his head and clasps his hands together, and the congregation follows suit. Among the sea of the faithful, he stands out as the only one who's made no move to pray - glancing around, disdain wells up inside him and he gets up to leave. The motion stirs K████ from beside him and she whispers, "████, what's wrong?"
"I'm outta here."
"But it's not over yet."
"All this preaching's putting me to sleep."
He walks away, and she follows after him down the aisle, a plea to stay on her lips - but he stops in his tracks before getting far. A glow is emanating from his bandaged arm? Suddenly--
A CRASH from high above, and down comes a silver-haired man amid the rain of broken stained glass. On his back, a longsword with a hilt styled like bones and a flowing, long red coat. He lands directly before His Holiness, draws a gun and-- BANG!
The sound rings across the church. Murmurs from the startled crowd quickly turn to screams as the assassin in red turns and he's splattered with the holy man's blood. Chaos erupts. C████ and the other Holy Knights draw their swords, shouting, "Your Holiness!" as they rush into formation. Yet for all their training, they're disposed of like toys by the man in red. Drawing his skeletal sword, he dispatches of them with ease, even swinging an impaled knight on the end of his blade like a hammer to bludgeon his comrades?
Seeing their first line of defense fall before him, he takes K████'s hand - it's imperative to protect her, before anyone else, he has to bring her to safety - and in the retreat, the gift box she was holding slips from her grasp, to be crushed underfoot by the fleeing mob.
C████ cradles the lifeless body of His Holiness in his arms, trembling with rage and grief. Soon, his knights are all cut down, and no one stands between him and the assassin. When K████ glances back and sees this, she wrenches herself away from the hand leading her to safety, shouting her brother's name. "C████!" "K████!" She doesn't get far, though - before she can reach her brother, she's knocked over by another guard being thrown back, and falls to the ground. When she looks up, the cold eyes of the blood red assassin meets hers. She's frozen in terror, shaking. Then, a roar of anger--
His boots meet the assassin's face in a dropkick.
As the man in red is launched away, ████ draws Blue Rose and shoots - the bullets are blocked by the assassin's sword, but the force of it knocks him back. He lands on the head of Sparda's statue, but ████ doesn't let him have a second's reprieve. Leaping in, he kicks the sword's blade into the stone, and the two of them point their guns in a standoff upon Sparda's arms.
The young woman calls after him, "████!" as she gets up. But he can't let his focus waver.
"K████! Go with your brother and get outta here!"
C████, for whatever good it would do, calls to him as well. "I will return with help! You stall him until then!" and ushers his sister, and the dead body of His Holiness from the church.
When they're safety out of sight, ████ scoffs and shrugs the headphones off his shoulders. "I won't hold my breath."
What ensues is frankly an absurd battle between two silver-haired men, one older and one younger, where they're dodging bullets at point blank, grappling in mid-air, knocking each other around and bringing down the statue's giant sword. It's almost like they both already have Stability, even though they clearly couldn't? It's stupid. Throughout it all, the man in red maintains a cool, confident silence - and ████, for having one arm in a sling, doesn't seem hampered by it at all. The memory cuts off as ████ stands off with his gun at the stranger once more, growling, "You got a jacked up notion of fair play, pal. And it's beginning to piss me off."
The Dark Knight Sparda turned against his demon bretheren,
And took up his sword for the sake of mankind.
Though despite his brave efforts in our names,
I fear some have forgotten the truth of his great sacrifice.
Another boring sermon. Among the sea of linen hoods bowed in devout contemplation, he's the only one restless, bored out of his mind - listening to music on his headphones and wishing he was anywhere but here. His right arm is bound up in bandages, held in a sling. The man sitting beside him gives him a brief, judgy glance for his irreverence and he glares back - what're you gonna do about it?
He doesn't want to be here, but he promised K████ he'd come.
The fusing of both the demonic and human realms,
We, weak humans,
Would have no means by which to oppose our submission.
K████ returns, as inconspicuously as she can, now changed out of her ceremonial garb. When she approaches the empty spot next to him, he turns his head and looks away. Pretends not to notice her as he holds his headphones to his ear. For a moment she's crestfallen, until she notices the elegant gift box waiting for her in her seat - a congratulations he's embarrassed to be giving. Smiling, she picks it up and holds it close, before sitting next to him.
And pray that even if such a dark time of chaos were to revisit us,
Our gracious Saviour would shelter us from the storm.
Let us pray!
His Holiness bows his head and clasps his hands together, and the congregation follows suit. Among the sea of the faithful, he stands out as the only one who's made no move to pray - glancing around, disdain wells up inside him and he gets up to leave. The motion stirs K████ from beside him and she whispers, "████, what's wrong?"
"I'm outta here."
"But it's not over yet."
"All this preaching's putting me to sleep."
He walks away, and she follows after him down the aisle, a plea to stay on her lips - but he stops in his tracks before getting far. A glow is emanating from his bandaged arm? Suddenly--
A CRASH from high above, and down comes a silver-haired man amid the rain of broken stained glass. On his back, a longsword with a hilt styled like bones and a flowing, long red coat. He lands directly before His Holiness, draws a gun and-- BANG!
The sound rings across the church. Murmurs from the startled crowd quickly turn to screams as the assassin in red turns and he's splattered with the holy man's blood. Chaos erupts. C████ and the other Holy Knights draw their swords, shouting, "Your Holiness!" as they rush into formation. Yet for all their training, they're disposed of like toys by the man in red. Drawing his skeletal sword, he dispatches of them with ease, even swinging an impaled knight on the end of his blade like a hammer to bludgeon his comrades?
Seeing their first line of defense fall before him, he takes K████'s hand - it's imperative to protect her, before anyone else, he has to bring her to safety - and in the retreat, the gift box she was holding slips from her grasp, to be crushed underfoot by the fleeing mob.
C████ cradles the lifeless body of His Holiness in his arms, trembling with rage and grief. Soon, his knights are all cut down, and no one stands between him and the assassin. When K████ glances back and sees this, she wrenches herself away from the hand leading her to safety, shouting her brother's name. "C████!" "K████!" She doesn't get far, though - before she can reach her brother, she's knocked over by another guard being thrown back, and falls to the ground. When she looks up, the cold eyes of the blood red assassin meets hers. She's frozen in terror, shaking. Then, a roar of anger--
His boots meet the assassin's face in a dropkick.
As the man in red is launched away, ████ draws Blue Rose and shoots - the bullets are blocked by the assassin's sword, but the force of it knocks him back. He lands on the head of Sparda's statue, but ████ doesn't let him have a second's reprieve. Leaping in, he kicks the sword's blade into the stone, and the two of them point their guns in a standoff upon Sparda's arms.
The young woman calls after him, "████!" as she gets up. But he can't let his focus waver.
"K████! Go with your brother and get outta here!"
C████, for whatever good it would do, calls to him as well. "I will return with help! You stall him until then!" and ushers his sister, and the dead body of His Holiness from the church.
When they're safety out of sight, ████ scoffs and shrugs the headphones off his shoulders. "I won't hold my breath."
What ensues is frankly an absurd battle between two silver-haired men, one older and one younger, where they're dodging bullets at point blank, grappling in mid-air, knocking each other around and bringing down the statue's giant sword. It's almost like they both already have Stability, even though they clearly couldn't? It's stupid. Throughout it all, the man in red maintains a cool, confident silence - and ████, for having one arm in a sling, doesn't seem hampered by it at all. The memory cuts off as ████ stands off with his gun at the stranger once more, growling, "You got a jacked up notion of fair play, pal. And it's beginning to piss me off."
Video from 0:00 to 7:10
The throne room within the Qliphoth is aglow with the sheer amount of human blood that's been absorbed into its heart. It pools around the demon king's feet, it's slick on the living walls, even the air is filled with red vapour - all to power its master. The demon king looks bored. He hasn't moved in at least a month - the tentacles growing from him seem almost like the roots of an overgrown tree over a dormant giant. And yet the power he exudes is enormous.
Approaching with reckless bravado, irreverent of the king: "Hey douchebag, miss me?" Glances around, searching for evidence of a month-old battle. "...Where's D████? No body? No dried up D████ jerky? Nothin'?"
When Urizen speaks, his voice reverberates through the hall.
Nefarious Usurper
Urizen
"...You've come here to die?"
A scoff. "He talks. ...Urizen, huh? I bet your parents didn't like you much, 'cause your name sucks."
"I am without a name. I am power, absolute."
"Well, No Name--" He takes Red Queen off his back and brandishes her, "I'll be sure to put that on your tombstone."
Lazily, Urizen raises his hand, with the boredom of one about to use a bomb to destroy a gnat. "You will suffer... and... die."
Muttering to himself, "I'll show you dead weight," as he braces his sword for battle. For all his smack talk, he has so much to prove.
The battle is... overwhelming. Without a single sign of exertion, Urizen summons waves after wave of energy blasts - raining down from the air, erupting out of the ground in columns of light, straight beams that sweep the whole room, fireballs larger than men are tall, or even slowing time itself in pockets. And throughout it all, a barrier is protecting him from any attack, powered by this red crystal that blocks every swing of his sword, and every bullet.
"You would so readily throw away your life, child?"
"I'm not interested in you having a winning streak. Now I can break it for ya!"
But the crystal was starting to wear down. With every hit, he chipped away a little more, he just... had to survive the assault. It was working, but every single mistake sent him flying. It's taking him to the end of his rope just to get there, but-- at last, the barrier shatters and he rushes in, bloodied, screaming, slashing Urizen across the palm. Finally drawing blood.
But with a flick, he's swatted away - crashing to the ground. With effort, forces himself back onto his feet with his sword. "It's about time I... landed somethin'..."
Urizen gazes at the cut in his hand. His monstrous face doesn't change - but the way his voice rises? He's offended. now.
"...Weak mortal. Demon power does not course through your veins. Yet, you try..." The room seems to shake as he rises from his throne, pulling up with him all the massive roots that surround him - and it shakes even more as he exclaims with rage: "How dare you strike ME!?"
"The hell...?!"
The demon king takes a step. Then another. Each one forcibly pulls out a blood-sucking tentacle from the heart of the tree, which began to open up like a flower. He was big before, but now... fuck.
"You will regret... being born useless and human. I will show you... your worst nightmares! I will give you... despair and death!"
It's not even a contest, this time.
Even when he's able to avoid the energy onslaught, the tentacles swarm him - lancing through flesh. After all that struggle to wear down the barrier, the crystal's regenerated too. He's simply too weak.
Pummeled, rolling, tumbling across the ground until he finally skids to a stop... Everything hurts. He spits out a mouthful of blood as he tries to push himself back up, but his body's not listening anymore. Those tentacles slither toward his prone body and wrap around him. He struggles. Uselessly.
He can barely hear for all his screams, but Urizen speaks with disgust as he lifts him into the air. "Merely human. Petulant mortal flesh. Cursed... the moment you were brought into this world."
Then he squeezes, and the screams grow even louder.
The throne room within the Qliphoth is aglow with the sheer amount of human blood that's been absorbed into its heart. It pools around the demon king's feet, it's slick on the living walls, even the air is filled with red vapour - all to power its master. The demon king looks bored. He hasn't moved in at least a month - the tentacles growing from him seem almost like the roots of an overgrown tree over a dormant giant. And yet the power he exudes is enormous.
Approaching with reckless bravado, irreverent of the king: "Hey douchebag, miss me?" Glances around, searching for evidence of a month-old battle. "...Where's D████? No body? No dried up D████ jerky? Nothin'?"
When Urizen speaks, his voice reverberates through the hall.
Nefarious Usurper
Urizen
"...You've come here to die?"
A scoff. "He talks. ...Urizen, huh? I bet your parents didn't like you much, 'cause your name sucks."
"I am without a name. I am power, absolute."
"Well, No Name--" He takes Red Queen off his back and brandishes her, "I'll be sure to put that on your tombstone."
Lazily, Urizen raises his hand, with the boredom of one about to use a bomb to destroy a gnat. "You will suffer... and... die."
Muttering to himself, "I'll show you dead weight," as he braces his sword for battle. For all his smack talk, he has so much to prove.
The battle is... overwhelming. Without a single sign of exertion, Urizen summons waves after wave of energy blasts - raining down from the air, erupting out of the ground in columns of light, straight beams that sweep the whole room, fireballs larger than men are tall, or even slowing time itself in pockets. And throughout it all, a barrier is protecting him from any attack, powered by this red crystal that blocks every swing of his sword, and every bullet.
"You would so readily throw away your life, child?"
"I'm not interested in you having a winning streak. Now I can break it for ya!"
But the crystal was starting to wear down. With every hit, he chipped away a little more, he just... had to survive the assault. It was working, but every single mistake sent him flying. It's taking him to the end of his rope just to get there, but-- at last, the barrier shatters and he rushes in, bloodied, screaming, slashing Urizen across the palm. Finally drawing blood.
But with a flick, he's swatted away - crashing to the ground. With effort, forces himself back onto his feet with his sword. "It's about time I... landed somethin'..."
Urizen gazes at the cut in his hand. His monstrous face doesn't change - but the way his voice rises? He's offended. now.
"...Weak mortal. Demon power does not course through your veins. Yet, you try..." The room seems to shake as he rises from his throne, pulling up with him all the massive roots that surround him - and it shakes even more as he exclaims with rage: "How dare you strike ME!?"
"The hell...?!"
The demon king takes a step. Then another. Each one forcibly pulls out a blood-sucking tentacle from the heart of the tree, which began to open up like a flower. He was big before, but now... fuck.
"You will regret... being born useless and human. I will show you... your worst nightmares! I will give you... despair and death!"
It's not even a contest, this time.
Even when he's able to avoid the energy onslaught, the tentacles swarm him - lancing through flesh. After all that struggle to wear down the barrier, the crystal's regenerated too. He's simply too weak.
Pummeled, rolling, tumbling across the ground until he finally skids to a stop... Everything hurts. He spits out a mouthful of blood as he tries to push himself back up, but his body's not listening anymore. Those tentacles slither toward his prone body and wrap around him. He struggles. Uselessly.
He can barely hear for all his screams, but Urizen speaks with disgust as he lifts him into the air. "Merely human. Petulant mortal flesh. Cursed... the moment you were brought into this world."
Then he squeezes, and the screams grow even louder.
C████'s already joined the ranks of the Holy Knights, and it feels like where he's always belonged. That crisp white uniform, lined with gold, emblazoned with the Order's sigil, suits him perfectly. Even among the other knights, K████'s brother stands out - his discipline, his loyalty and dedication to protecting the people of Fortuna. It's clear to everyone that he'll make commander one day.
Meanwhile, he's only 13 and still has a long way to catch up. Maybe he doesn't believe as deeply and devoutly, but the idea of having something to fight for feels like the best way to make something of himself. Or maybe the only way. It'd pay back this family that has given him more than God ever did. C████ trains him in the art of the sword his spare time, sparring with the Order's equipment. Never takes it easy on him, either - that four swing combination attack still trips him up, staggering as he fails to properly block that crushing downward cleave.
But today, the session is cut short. A member of the Order calls for C████, pulls him to the side. Too far away to hear, but to read that aggrieved expression, the shock in C████'s eyes, the way his fist clenches - it surely must be bad news. After the exchange, C████ - voice honed sharp with grief, only barely trembling as he steels himself as a knight should - tasks him with the worst job of all: delivering the news to his sister. Then, swiftly excuses himself to handle the ugly business of putting affairs in order.
He doesn't remember the walk back. The only city he's ever known no longer feels familiar.
K████ reads his mood immediately when he returns home early. The words are so much harder to say than he anticipated, they roll around inside him like a sickness. He can't meet her gaze he finally speaks: her parents are dead.
It's so sudden, out of the blue. An attack by demons, is what they were told. He has to catch K████, set her down in a seat, otherwise she would've fallen to her knees right then and there. Her cries of disbelief quickly become tears, and she weeps for all that they've lost.
He just feels angry. It's an anger that persists in the coming days - C████ has all but disappeared, abandoning him to be the one to comfort K████. The kind words from neighbours that all blur together, as does the funeral itself.
K████ and C████'s parents were beloved by everyone. Practically saints walking the Earth. They served the church with all their heart and generously cared for the least among them. They gave him a home, accepted him. And as the eulogies droned on, he couldn't help but think... if God let two of the kindest, most compassionate people in the world die? Then what good was God, anyway?
After that, he doesn't train with aspirations for justice anymore. He just wants to fight.
Meanwhile, he's only 13 and still has a long way to catch up. Maybe he doesn't believe as deeply and devoutly, but the idea of having something to fight for feels like the best way to make something of himself. Or maybe the only way. It'd pay back this family that has given him more than God ever did. C████ trains him in the art of the sword his spare time, sparring with the Order's equipment. Never takes it easy on him, either - that four swing combination attack still trips him up, staggering as he fails to properly block that crushing downward cleave.
But today, the session is cut short. A member of the Order calls for C████, pulls him to the side. Too far away to hear, but to read that aggrieved expression, the shock in C████'s eyes, the way his fist clenches - it surely must be bad news. After the exchange, C████ - voice honed sharp with grief, only barely trembling as he steels himself as a knight should - tasks him with the worst job of all: delivering the news to his sister. Then, swiftly excuses himself to handle the ugly business of putting affairs in order.
He doesn't remember the walk back. The only city he's ever known no longer feels familiar.
K████ reads his mood immediately when he returns home early. The words are so much harder to say than he anticipated, they roll around inside him like a sickness. He can't meet her gaze he finally speaks: her parents are dead.
It's so sudden, out of the blue. An attack by demons, is what they were told. He has to catch K████, set her down in a seat, otherwise she would've fallen to her knees right then and there. Her cries of disbelief quickly become tears, and she weeps for all that they've lost.
He just feels angry. It's an anger that persists in the coming days - C████ has all but disappeared, abandoning him to be the one to comfort K████. The kind words from neighbours that all blur together, as does the funeral itself.
K████ and C████'s parents were beloved by everyone. Practically saints walking the Earth. They served the church with all their heart and generously cared for the least among them. They gave him a home, accepted him. And as the eulogies droned on, he couldn't help but think... if God let two of the kindest, most compassionate people in the world die? Then what good was God, anyway?
After that, he doesn't train with aspirations for justice anymore. He just wants to fight.
Edited 2019-08-25 06:36 (UTC)
They were only supposed to be on patrol.
Instead, he was watching a demon's scythe-like arms descend upon a man's head. These shambling, monstrous scarecrows took them by surprise, and despite being a squad of new inductees with only the most basic Caliburn blades equipped, some combination of luck, desperation, and his own lifetime of training kept them from sustaining heavy loses.
But he had been so focused on demolishing the bulk of the horde that he neglected to track the last of the group as it stalked its way over to their troop leader.
Not that he ever liked the man. A knight who clearly bought into his position from a foremost family in Fortuna, and in his martial uselessness was ushered into a cushy job of barking orders to a group of rookies to feel some superficial sense of superiority.
There was no way to get there in time. Not with a sword, anyway.
But in one smooth draw, he fires Blue Rose. BANG!
What follows is the demon's corpse hitting the ground, perforated with a new, gushing hole in its head, and then silence. The air is tense. He knows he just revealed something taboo, and in an attempt to bulwark himself against the inevitable reaction, he dryly quips, "This is the part where you say, you're welcome." The sarcasm does not win him any friends in his corner as their judgment descends on him.
"A gun, ████? Have you no shame?!"
"To think he even made it into The Holy Knights…"
"You know wielding such a weapon goes against the teachings of Sparda!"
"Utterly disgraceful. Though it hardly surprises that you'd be lacking in any honour or skill whatsoever. You can be sure the commander will hear about this."
Bristling, he snaps back. "Uh, sorry, I think you missed the part where I saved your LIFE? You really think a demon's gonna care about how honorably you bite it?"
This perspective is not appreciated. He finds himself in C████'s office later that day. Foster brother, instructor, and now commander - he knows that, as a knight, he's an embarrassment to C████. Not good, considering how recently the man had been promoted.
But even still, he cannot stand to adhere to decorum. He comes in, arms crossed, rolling his eyes, the very picture of a belligerent teen, not the soldier he's supposed to be. "Well? Lay it on me."
C████ fixes him with a stoic stare, unimpressed. "This is the fifth time this week--"
"Yeah, yeah, no need to remind me,"
"--multiple complaints from the other knights, including your troop leader, about your dishonorable conduct--"
"He wouldn't be complaining so much without his head,"
"--including unauthorized use of a firearm, which you know are banned in Fortuna--"
"Can we just get to the part where you tell me I'm making you look bad?"
"--You're suspended from duty."
"..." This is what stops him in his tracks. He stares, eyes wide. "... WHAT?!"
C████, infuriatingly, folds his hands together and remains unshakable. "You heard me."
"You're shitting me."
"Language."
"FUCK YOU. You can't be serious! You know I'm the strongest recruit this head up its own ass Order's had in years! You need me!"
(How many stages of grief was that? Denial, anger, bargaining…)
"You're being wasted as is, on patrol. It's time I accepted that you'll simply never be a cohesive part of the unit." C████ takes a deep breath. It feels like he's finally given up on chances for his upstart foster brother, and… it stings. Harder than any of the lumps and bruises he gets at the receiving end of C████'s training drills. "Take the time off. Cool your head." Another pause. The air between then feels suffocating. Then, curtly, "I'll be home for dinner on Sunday."
The only response that gets out of him is an angry grunt as he turns on his heel and storms out, humiliated and ashamed. He wants to scream. He settles for punching a wall.
Instead, he was watching a demon's scythe-like arms descend upon a man's head. These shambling, monstrous scarecrows took them by surprise, and despite being a squad of new inductees with only the most basic Caliburn blades equipped, some combination of luck, desperation, and his own lifetime of training kept them from sustaining heavy loses.
But he had been so focused on demolishing the bulk of the horde that he neglected to track the last of the group as it stalked its way over to their troop leader.
Not that he ever liked the man. A knight who clearly bought into his position from a foremost family in Fortuna, and in his martial uselessness was ushered into a cushy job of barking orders to a group of rookies to feel some superficial sense of superiority.
There was no way to get there in time. Not with a sword, anyway.
But in one smooth draw, he fires Blue Rose. BANG!
What follows is the demon's corpse hitting the ground, perforated with a new, gushing hole in its head, and then silence. The air is tense. He knows he just revealed something taboo, and in an attempt to bulwark himself against the inevitable reaction, he dryly quips, "This is the part where you say, you're welcome." The sarcasm does not win him any friends in his corner as their judgment descends on him.
"A gun, ████? Have you no shame?!"
"To think he even made it into The Holy Knights…"
"You know wielding such a weapon goes against the teachings of Sparda!"
"Utterly disgraceful. Though it hardly surprises that you'd be lacking in any honour or skill whatsoever. You can be sure the commander will hear about this."
Bristling, he snaps back. "Uh, sorry, I think you missed the part where I saved your LIFE? You really think a demon's gonna care about how honorably you bite it?"
This perspective is not appreciated. He finds himself in C████'s office later that day. Foster brother, instructor, and now commander - he knows that, as a knight, he's an embarrassment to C████. Not good, considering how recently the man had been promoted.
But even still, he cannot stand to adhere to decorum. He comes in, arms crossed, rolling his eyes, the very picture of a belligerent teen, not the soldier he's supposed to be. "Well? Lay it on me."
C████ fixes him with a stoic stare, unimpressed. "This is the fifth time this week--"
"Yeah, yeah, no need to remind me,"
"--multiple complaints from the other knights, including your troop leader, about your dishonorable conduct--"
"He wouldn't be complaining so much without his head,"
"--including unauthorized use of a firearm, which you know are banned in Fortuna--"
"Can we just get to the part where you tell me I'm making you look bad?"
"--You're suspended from duty."
"..." This is what stops him in his tracks. He stares, eyes wide. "... WHAT?!"
C████, infuriatingly, folds his hands together and remains unshakable. "You heard me."
"You're shitting me."
"Language."
"FUCK YOU. You can't be serious! You know I'm the strongest recruit this head up its own ass Order's had in years! You need me!"
(How many stages of grief was that? Denial, anger, bargaining…)
"You're being wasted as is, on patrol. It's time I accepted that you'll simply never be a cohesive part of the unit." C████ takes a deep breath. It feels like he's finally given up on chances for his upstart foster brother, and… it stings. Harder than any of the lumps and bruises he gets at the receiving end of C████'s training drills. "Take the time off. Cool your head." Another pause. The air between then feels suffocating. Then, curtly, "I'll be home for dinner on Sunday."
The only response that gets out of him is an angry grunt as he turns on his heel and storms out, humiliated and ashamed. He wants to scream. He settles for punching a wall.
Edited 2019-09-15 02:08 (UTC)
Power. I need more power...
The vision of the man before him starts to lose detail as the dream ebbs, but the words stay with him a moment longer. But as he wakes, it all fades away. Morning greets him, and with it, reality - he knows he can't keep avoiding the question of this reoccurring dream.
Ever since that day, they stayed with him. When he got that injury... and when he changed.
As though to confirm it for himself, just one more time, he holds his right hand out to inspect it. Fingers like talons, knuckles of bony scute, skin replaced with red carapace down his forearm - this was the arm of a demon.
It had been a few days since the spread of this transformation had come to a halt. So far, it'd only gone as far as his elbow, and seemed content to stop there. He wasn't sure whether to feel grateful for the consideration - whether this was the work of some devil's bargain he'd subconsciously made, a curse, some genetic mutation... but uncomfortably, divine punishment still feels like the most viable theory.
He rolls out of bed, gets on with his morning routine, as usual. And as he gets dressed, he dresses his arm too - bandages, enough to cover this symbol of sin, a sling to keep up the charade. This deception can't last forever. People are already wondering why it's taking so long to heal. He feels like a man treading water in the ocean... before long, suspicion would turn on him. He was going to drown. And if he was lucky, he'd only be cast out, and not erased.
Video here
June 15, 12:36 pm
This deep into the Underworld tree, the gnarled, H.R. Giger-esque tendrils of the Qliphoth look more like a vision of Hell, rather than any normal plant. The bright red of human blood glowed all around them instead of chloroplast, feeding the tree - empowering it.
L███ wakes him up. He'd been knocked out for... shit, it's been half an hour now, just passed out behind the Devil May Cry van. When he comes to, he sees D████ and N███ talking - N███ gushing like she does - and he decides to hang back. Frustrated. Ashamed that he had to get saved. The word Dead weight still rings in his mind like a prison.
When he turns the corner, N███'s presenting her celebrity crush with a hat and
...
. . .
D████ is dancing now.
W
H
Y
I
S
T
H
I
S
H
A
P
P
E
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I
N
G
After what feels like the longest 30 seconds of his life, he sulks out when that strange song and dance is over. "D████! I'm gonna go too."
"Why don't you sit this one out?" The reply is in the legendary devil hunter's usual easygoing tone, and it drives him nuts. He still thinks he's too weak to handle this.
"Oh, and let you call me dead weight again? No thanks." He lifts the Devil Breaker - "I've got all the power I need-- right here."
"You don't understand. That's not what I mean--"
"Let him go, D████." A third man interrupts them, and hobbles towards them with his cane. "Time is a luxury we can no longer afford. We must chase after him, post-haste."
"What, does that mean you're going too?" D████'s almost incredulous at the idea. V looks like he's almost on the verge of death himself. He's falling apart.
Nonetheless: "I have a duty to see this through."
The three men exchange looks.
In the end, D████ concedes. "Well that's all you had to say, Mr. Poetry. I'm gonna go my way, and you guys can go yours. Let's just say that's the best for the cause." With a flippant salute, he jumps off the ledge, further into the depths of the Hell tree. The other two follow suit.
He leaps
down, down,
cutting a swath through the endless swarms of demons spawned from the tree.
June 15, 12:36 pm
This deep into the Underworld tree, the gnarled, H.R. Giger-esque tendrils of the Qliphoth look more like a vision of Hell, rather than any normal plant. The bright red of human blood glowed all around them instead of chloroplast, feeding the tree - empowering it.
L███ wakes him up. He'd been knocked out for... shit, it's been half an hour now, just passed out behind the Devil May Cry van. When he comes to, he sees D████ and N███ talking - N███ gushing like she does - and he decides to hang back. Frustrated. Ashamed that he had to get saved. The word Dead weight still rings in his mind like a prison.
When he turns the corner, N███'s presenting her celebrity crush with a hat and
...
. . .
D████ is dancing now.
W
H
Y
I
S
T
H
I
S
H
A
P
P
E
N
I
N
G
After what feels like the longest 30 seconds of his life, he sulks out when that strange song and dance is over. "D████! I'm gonna go too."
"Why don't you sit this one out?" The reply is in the legendary devil hunter's usual easygoing tone, and it drives him nuts. He still thinks he's too weak to handle this.
"Oh, and let you call me dead weight again? No thanks." He lifts the Devil Breaker - "I've got all the power I need-- right here."
"You don't understand. That's not what I mean--"
"Let him go, D████." A third man interrupts them, and hobbles towards them with his cane. "Time is a luxury we can no longer afford. We must chase after him, post-haste."
"What, does that mean you're going too?" D████'s almost incredulous at the idea. V looks like he's almost on the verge of death himself. He's falling apart.
Nonetheless: "I have a duty to see this through."
The three men exchange looks.
In the end, D████ concedes. "Well that's all you had to say, Mr. Poetry. I'm gonna go my way, and you guys can go yours. Let's just say that's the best for the cause." With a flippant salute, he jumps off the ledge, further into the depths of the Hell tree. The other two follow suit.
He leaps
down, down,
cutting a swath through the endless swarms of demons spawned from the tree.
- Black luxury van with 6 seat interiors and minifridge
- Black Kawasaki Ninja bike gifted by Shrike
- Black Kawasaki Ninja bike gifted by Shrike
Edited 2019-12-28 22:18 (UTC)
Awed, A████'s daughter holds up a diagram of a broken sword as she reads aloud its name. "The Yamato..."
The research notes documenting this particular devil arm are extensive, with good reason. N███'s eyes are wide as she sifts through them, the remnants of her father's research. From where he found it, in pieces, on the coast of Fortuna, its energy output, and most importantly, its use as a catalyst for the Hell Gates.
It feels like he's been watching her devour documents for hours now, but he chimes in, "It used t'belong to D████'s brother."
"Really?! The legendary devil hunter D████?" (Ugh, she always gets like this about that asshole.) "Ah had no idea he had a brother! A devil arm like this... what I'd give ta study it myself!" Her eyes are dancing, inspired. Eager, like a kid. "D'ya know where it is now?"
He smirks. "You wanna see a magic trick?" The tangent confuses her, so he continues without waiting for a reply. Holds out his demonic right arm, his Devil Bringer, and digs deep-- it glows, and from this light materializes that very katana, whole and sheathed. Pure white hilt wrapping, gold guard, lacquered black scabbard with a long, fluttering cord. It radiated demonic power.
He practically bowled her over with that stunt. "H-h-h-how'd ya do that?!"
"I don't really know how it works myself, but," just like that, the sword is reabsorbed into him, disappearing, "I can't let you pick it apart. The Yamato's too dangerous." He'd seen it firsthand.
D████ had entrusted it to him. And he wasn't going to be taking this stewardship lightly.
The research notes documenting this particular devil arm are extensive, with good reason. N███'s eyes are wide as she sifts through them, the remnants of her father's research. From where he found it, in pieces, on the coast of Fortuna, its energy output, and most importantly, its use as a catalyst for the Hell Gates.
It feels like he's been watching her devour documents for hours now, but he chimes in, "It used t'belong to D████'s brother."
"Really?! The legendary devil hunter D████?" (Ugh, she always gets like this about that asshole.) "Ah had no idea he had a brother! A devil arm like this... what I'd give ta study it myself!" Her eyes are dancing, inspired. Eager, like a kid. "D'ya know where it is now?"
He smirks. "You wanna see a magic trick?" The tangent confuses her, so he continues without waiting for a reply. Holds out his demonic right arm, his Devil Bringer, and digs deep-- it glows, and from this light materializes that very katana, whole and sheathed. Pure white hilt wrapping, gold guard, lacquered black scabbard with a long, fluttering cord. It radiated demonic power.
He practically bowled her over with that stunt. "H-h-h-how'd ya do that?!"
"I don't really know how it works myself, but," just like that, the sword is reabsorbed into him, disappearing, "I can't let you pick it apart. The Yamato's too dangerous." He'd seen it firsthand.
D████ had entrusted it to him. And he wasn't going to be taking this stewardship lightly.
In the end, it was decided that this was the job best suited to you.
Maybe you should've just been grateful that you weren't stripped of your rank and expelled from the force. A magnanimous order, passed down by your commander - your 'brother'. In the eyes of the townsfolk, this was a more-than-generous opportunity being offered to your disgraceful ass. To redeem your standing by continuing to serve, in a 'limited capacity'. So you could finally do something worthwhile for the home that so charitably raised you.
They'd only think that because they don't know.
The people of the town pray daily to their Saviour with the promise that, being His people, residing in His lands, His power guards them from the threat of Hell's forces. It's commonplace enough that demons break through the veil and try to attack the town, but they're dealt with easily enough by the knights.
The problem is demonic possession. The very idea that they, the faithful, could still be taken over by this influence breaks every scripture they've been taught. It basically proves the Saviour's protection to be a load of bunk. But for the knights, it is their solemn duty not to let anything shake the people's faith in the Church.
Their hands must remain clean. You - a lone agent - don't need to be afforded such esteem.
The fact of the matter is, there's no coming back once someone's been possessed, no saving them. Dealing with them is your job now. Don't be seen, act quietly, and dispose of the target - all to cover the Church's tracks. Dirty work.
And in return, you don't have to bother with knightly decorum, the uniform, the regular shifts. No one will comment on your methods (to your face, anyway). The Church pays for a modest studio dorm and calls on you at any hour of day.
...The job itself is easier to do than you thought it'd be.
The very first target you receive is, ironically, a sister of the covenant. You knew her. But not anymore, not with her teeth in that merchant's neck. You think about your parents for a brief moment, wondering if this is how they went-- before cutting her down.
Their bodies are taken to the edge of the forest. A lover's tryst gone awry when demons ambushed them in the dark, they'll say. You report it in, and think no more of it.
Maybe you should've just been grateful that you weren't stripped of your rank and expelled from the force. A magnanimous order, passed down by your commander - your 'brother'. In the eyes of the townsfolk, this was a more-than-generous opportunity being offered to your disgraceful ass. To redeem your standing by continuing to serve, in a 'limited capacity'. So you could finally do something worthwhile for the home that so charitably raised you.
They'd only think that because they don't know.
The people of the town pray daily to their Saviour with the promise that, being His people, residing in His lands, His power guards them from the threat of Hell's forces. It's commonplace enough that demons break through the veil and try to attack the town, but they're dealt with easily enough by the knights.
The problem is demonic possession. The very idea that they, the faithful, could still be taken over by this influence breaks every scripture they've been taught. It basically proves the Saviour's protection to be a load of bunk. But for the knights, it is their solemn duty not to let anything shake the people's faith in the Church.
Their hands must remain clean. You - a lone agent - don't need to be afforded such esteem.
The fact of the matter is, there's no coming back once someone's been possessed, no saving them. Dealing with them is your job now. Don't be seen, act quietly, and dispose of the target - all to cover the Church's tracks. Dirty work.
And in return, you don't have to bother with knightly decorum, the uniform, the regular shifts. No one will comment on your methods (to your face, anyway). The Church pays for a modest studio dorm and calls on you at any hour of day.
...The job itself is easier to do than you thought it'd be.
The very first target you receive is, ironically, a sister of the covenant. You knew her. But not anymore, not with her teeth in that merchant's neck. You think about your parents for a brief moment, wondering if this is how they went-- before cutting her down.
Their bodies are taken to the edge of the forest. A lover's tryst gone awry when demons ambushed them in the dark, they'll say. You report it in, and think no more of it.
Your girlfriend got a call early that morning that they needed help clearing out dead tree trunks from the town square. They call her, of course, instead of you - even though it's your power they need - and while it's hard for you to imagine, it might actually be because they're intimidated by you now, instead of just turning their noses up at you, like you're used to. Either way, one look from your girlfriend and you were never going to refuse.
Everyone was still rebuilding from the disaster of a year ago. For months, people were huddled en masse in shelters as the rubble was cleared, lining up for food, praying through the night.
You could've left. You could've gone anywhere, except-- she was here. Her heart was still with the people of the town, and there was no way she could turn her back on her community now, in their hour of need.
And, well, work's work. Even though you'd set up your business - had a sign and everything - you still spend most your working hours helping out around the city. The most action you see is exterminating dangerous things in the forest. By comparison, pulling dead wood out of the earth is a simple task.
You stay to help them replant new saplings, too. (Another wonder: a younger you would've ditched them as soon as the dirty work was over with.) And when's all said and done, the townsfolk thank you profusely. You, in turn, tell them you can't possibly take payment for this - your girlfriend wouldn't stand for it. After all, getting by was hard for everyone, and they needed any penny they could spare.
But they won't let you go with nothing, so-- once again, you're coming home with a full crate of zucchini. You carry it in one hand as you come through the door.
"Heyyy~ Guess whose zucchinis are takin' over her fields again?"
Your girlfriend - radiant as always, even in the humble lifestyle you've built together - claps her hands together and beams. "Oh, how generous! We can have zucchini pasta tonight!"
And then, on cue: the children come barreling towards you with enough cheer and vigor that you nearly drop all that squash. "He's home, he's home!" "What's that?" "Are we having pasta again?"
Laughing, you pick one of them up one-handed and swing him around while the others yell to go next. You don't ever remember smiling so much when you were their age - a orphan, just like them. Maybe finances were tough with a full household like this, but as you kiss your girlfriend on the cheek and get ready to help with dinner, you couldn't trade it for the world.
Everyone was still rebuilding from the disaster of a year ago. For months, people were huddled en masse in shelters as the rubble was cleared, lining up for food, praying through the night.
You could've left. You could've gone anywhere, except-- she was here. Her heart was still with the people of the town, and there was no way she could turn her back on her community now, in their hour of need.
And, well, work's work. Even though you'd set up your business - had a sign and everything - you still spend most your working hours helping out around the city. The most action you see is exterminating dangerous things in the forest. By comparison, pulling dead wood out of the earth is a simple task.
You stay to help them replant new saplings, too. (Another wonder: a younger you would've ditched them as soon as the dirty work was over with.) And when's all said and done, the townsfolk thank you profusely. You, in turn, tell them you can't possibly take payment for this - your girlfriend wouldn't stand for it. After all, getting by was hard for everyone, and they needed any penny they could spare.
But they won't let you go with nothing, so-- once again, you're coming home with a full crate of zucchini. You carry it in one hand as you come through the door.
"Heyyy~ Guess whose zucchinis are takin' over her fields again?"
Your girlfriend - radiant as always, even in the humble lifestyle you've built together - claps her hands together and beams. "Oh, how generous! We can have zucchini pasta tonight!"
And then, on cue: the children come barreling towards you with enough cheer and vigor that you nearly drop all that squash. "He's home, he's home!" "What's that?" "Are we having pasta again?"
Laughing, you pick one of them up one-handed and swing him around while the others yell to go next. You don't ever remember smiling so much when you were their age - a orphan, just like them. Maybe finances were tough with a full household like this, but as you kiss your girlfriend on the cheek and get ready to help with dinner, you couldn't trade it for the world.
Video: 13:32 - end
The two make their retreat - without D████. Bursting from the trunk of this Underworld tree, they emerge back into Red Grave; V, riding atop his oozing giant of a demonic familiar, and him, landing on the broken sidewalk with a thud. The people in the street draw back in astonishment, staring. Some had come to unwisely gawk at the tree, and others (even more foolishly,) to pray. He ignores them. Storms away without a spare thought for anyone - the only thing that's consuming him is bitter rage.
That info broker approaches them. "What happened to D████?" No answer. Concern turns to alarm. "Where's D████?"
V speaks. "He's buying time, but... it doesn't look good."
Just then, screams break out behind them - they turn to see demonic roots erupt from the ground, everywhere. Long tentacles knotted with thorn-like spikes and clusters, topped with a deadly needle. They emerge with one purpose: all at once, people are skewered in the streets. Chaos breaks out as fleeing bodies are impaled straight through and held aloft, blood spewing like rain.
The three men watch the carnage as it unfolds around them. One impassive, one glaring, and one stunned. "This can't be happening... D████ lost?"
The words Dead weight ring in his ears. A snarling, bitter frustration takes ahold of him as he starts to march back, intent on a second round with Urizen, when V stops him again.
"Forget it. There's nothing we can do... We must go."
Dead weight.
The fresh stump of his arm throbs, still raw, useless. Demanding payback that it can't win.
...With an angry huff, he turns away - purposefully butting shoulders with the broker as he leaves. Behind him, pandemonium, the dangling bodies of the dead, and the start of an unchecked demonic outbreak.
The two make their retreat - without D████. Bursting from the trunk of this Underworld tree, they emerge back into Red Grave; V, riding atop his oozing giant of a demonic familiar, and him, landing on the broken sidewalk with a thud. The people in the street draw back in astonishment, staring. Some had come to unwisely gawk at the tree, and others (even more foolishly,) to pray. He ignores them. Storms away without a spare thought for anyone - the only thing that's consuming him is bitter rage.
That info broker approaches them. "What happened to D████?" No answer. Concern turns to alarm. "Where's D████?"
V speaks. "He's buying time, but... it doesn't look good."
Just then, screams break out behind them - they turn to see demonic roots erupt from the ground, everywhere. Long tentacles knotted with thorn-like spikes and clusters, topped with a deadly needle. They emerge with one purpose: all at once, people are skewered in the streets. Chaos breaks out as fleeing bodies are impaled straight through and held aloft, blood spewing like rain.
The three men watch the carnage as it unfolds around them. One impassive, one glaring, and one stunned. "This can't be happening... D████ lost?"
The words Dead weight ring in his ears. A snarling, bitter frustration takes ahold of him as he starts to march back, intent on a second round with Urizen, when V stops him again.
"Forget it. There's nothing we can do... We must go."
Dead weight.
The fresh stump of his arm throbs, still raw, useless. Demanding payback that it can't win.
...With an angry huff, he turns away - purposefully butting shoulders with the broker as he leaves. Behind him, pandemonium, the dangling bodies of the dead, and the start of an unchecked demonic outbreak.
Cutscene
You ascend the staircase leading up to Order HQ, and suddenly, a familiar figure marches out to meet you. No, that's not the right word for it-- you've seen this resolve in C████ a thousand times, the unwavering, no-nonsense, iron-fisted, stick-up-his-ass glare like he's he's going to war.
Only this time, he's aiming it at you. And not in the disciplinary way, either. You try to ease the tension with a remark, "That's a look you shoot your enemy."
But he does not stop advancing on you. What's going on? You try a different tack: "Okay, well then let me ask you this: what exactly is the Order after? and who the hell is D████?"
C████ unsheathes his blade and snaps, "You do NOT demand answers from ME--" swinging it down at you, just barely missing as you dart back. Another swing goes for you head, and you block with your demonic arm - it clangs off the carapace, and he's driven back by the sheer force of the clash.
There's no hiding it now. C████ points his sword accusingly at you, hate and fire in his eyes. "You possess the power of a demon..."
You're not ready for this. Even as he squares off against you, you keep the Devil Bringer far from him, hidden behind you. Your voice even shakes a little when you tell him, "Back down! I don't wanna hurt you. I won't do that to K████."
He responds with a scoff. "'Hurt me'? You don't get it, do you?"
Then, reaching into himself, a golden light begins to burn from deep within C████ - with a powerful cry, his human body is burned utterly away, transformed. The man he once knew now hovered before him, with bright white plumage all over his body. One might be mistaken for thinking he looked angelic, with his horns in the shape of a halo, his one broad wing and a powerful shield. But close inspection would reveal his primary feathers to actually be hard like nails, the shape of his gold-tipped talons to be more twisted than an eagle's, with vicious blue veins of corruption running over the surface of hard carapace rather than skin.
You look on in disbelief. "You too..."
Proudly, the man you had called brother announces with a demonic timbre in his voice, in his unnatural new form: "I have been chosen to take the next step in evolution! To become something far more than just human. I am an ANGEL!"
"Wrong, Credo." You step forward. "All that you've become is a demon."
He does not heed you, drunk on his false divinity. "As the Captain of the Holy Knights, you are now under arrest. It is the wish of His Holiness!"
BOSS FIGHT ENSUE
You ascend the staircase leading up to Order HQ, and suddenly, a familiar figure marches out to meet you. No, that's not the right word for it-- you've seen this resolve in C████ a thousand times, the unwavering, no-nonsense, iron-fisted, stick-up-his-ass glare like he's he's going to war.
Only this time, he's aiming it at you. And not in the disciplinary way, either. You try to ease the tension with a remark, "That's a look you shoot your enemy."
But he does not stop advancing on you. What's going on? You try a different tack: "Okay, well then let me ask you this: what exactly is the Order after? and who the hell is D████?"
C████ unsheathes his blade and snaps, "You do NOT demand answers from ME--" swinging it down at you, just barely missing as you dart back. Another swing goes for you head, and you block with your demonic arm - it clangs off the carapace, and he's driven back by the sheer force of the clash.
There's no hiding it now. C████ points his sword accusingly at you, hate and fire in his eyes. "You possess the power of a demon..."
You're not ready for this. Even as he squares off against you, you keep the Devil Bringer far from him, hidden behind you. Your voice even shakes a little when you tell him, "Back down! I don't wanna hurt you. I won't do that to K████."
He responds with a scoff. "'Hurt me'? You don't get it, do you?"
Then, reaching into himself, a golden light begins to burn from deep within C████ - with a powerful cry, his human body is burned utterly away, transformed. The man he once knew now hovered before him, with bright white plumage all over his body. One might be mistaken for thinking he looked angelic, with his horns in the shape of a halo, his one broad wing and a powerful shield. But close inspection would reveal his primary feathers to actually be hard like nails, the shape of his gold-tipped talons to be more twisted than an eagle's, with vicious blue veins of corruption running over the surface of hard carapace rather than skin.
You look on in disbelief. "You too..."
Proudly, the man you had called brother announces with a demonic timbre in his voice, in his unnatural new form: "I have been chosen to take the next step in evolution! To become something far more than just human. I am an ANGEL!"
"Wrong, Credo." You step forward. "All that you've become is a demon."
He does not heed you, drunk on his false divinity. "As the Captain of the Holy Knights, you are now under arrest. It is the wish of His Holiness!"
BOSS FIGHT ENSUE
Edited 2020-06-15 10:19 (UTC)
Video to 3:00
A████ is flung back, through a spray of shattered glass as you advance on him. The asshole should be quaking in his boots, but instead any fear of you is diverted into utter astonishment at your glowing right arm. "Tha-tha-tha-that's demonic power!" He points at it wildly, stuttering as he backs away. "How can it be...?!"
God, he's annoying. Not to mention your freakish limb isn't what you came here for. You cast a glance over at his massive, hidden laboratory and snap, "Look who's talking, jackass. Answer my question--" And just so he gets the point, you thrust your sword at his throat - so he's motivated to talk. "What the hell is going on here?!"
He's quiet for a moment, before... turning his attention to your arm again, completely ignoring your threat. With awe and disgusting levels of creep, he starts gravitating towards it. "How profound...! It's magnificent!"
Tch. "Okay, did you even hear me?!" Impatient, you swing your sword-- only for him to stop it with his fingers. What--? You push back, but somehow this scientist is able to stop your blade handily.
With that disgusting know-it-all-voice, he starts, "If you want answers, then I shall give them to you."
You withdraw your sword, but A████ keeps advancing on you with that gross look in his eyes - you keep back, still putting Red Queen between you and him.
His voice drips with fanaticism. "It has only been a few years since I began this research... Could we isolate and bind demonic power, it would enable use to conquer the world! And that, that is the wish of His Holiness!"
...Does he actually expect you to believe this? Putting aside the absurd levels of villainy behind this world domination plan, all this technology didn't amount to shit right now. The supposed head of this grand, secret scheme had his brains splattered all over the cathedral floor.
"What a crock... And you may as well ditch the efforts pal, because His Holiness is dead."
Undeterred, A████ spreads his arms in a grand gesture. Waxing poetic about this insane scheme. "Ahhh, but His Holiness has been reborn. As an angel!"
You echo, incredulous. "An angel...?"
Bowing before you, he promises, "And soon, soon... so shall I."
You catch only a split second of his intent before, out of nowhere, his armoured 'angels' skewer you to the wall. You scream, impaled straight through on a lance - and as one is ripped from your torso, two more crucify you. Pinned, helpless, like a bleeding bug on a needle.
That sick motherfucker glows with pride over his Bianco Angelos, hovering at his command. "See what just a small fraction of my research has yielded? Look! How beautiful this white armour stands! You have no idea the hardship to make just one armour come to life. I had to capture and control countless demons to harness their souls. Summoning them alone was almost an insurmountable task!"
With what little strength you have, you lift your head and hiss, "Summoning...? So it was you... who made the gate!?"
Excitably, he crows, clearly starving for an audience for his 'genius'. "Yes, yes, the Hellgate! I created it merely as a, reference-- in substitution for the real Gate. But, after utilizing an extremely powerful Devil's Arm, it proved sufficient."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
With disdain, he scoffs - realizing you have no appreciation for his demonic theory. Holding his hand out, he summons a Gladius to him-- "You should rest..."
--and stabs you through the chest, with a blade wide enough to cut you from sternum to pelvis. It's all you can do to even cling to life as your bones and organs split apart, filling your throat - you cry out, but it's more blood than sound that comes out of you.
"Soon, you shall be my next subject of experimentation - so that I can learn a little something from you... and that arm."
A████ is flung back, through a spray of shattered glass as you advance on him. The asshole should be quaking in his boots, but instead any fear of you is diverted into utter astonishment at your glowing right arm. "Tha-tha-tha-that's demonic power!" He points at it wildly, stuttering as he backs away. "How can it be...?!"
God, he's annoying. Not to mention your freakish limb isn't what you came here for. You cast a glance over at his massive, hidden laboratory and snap, "Look who's talking, jackass. Answer my question--" And just so he gets the point, you thrust your sword at his throat - so he's motivated to talk. "What the hell is going on here?!"
He's quiet for a moment, before... turning his attention to your arm again, completely ignoring your threat. With awe and disgusting levels of creep, he starts gravitating towards it. "How profound...! It's magnificent!"
Tch. "Okay, did you even hear me?!" Impatient, you swing your sword-- only for him to stop it with his fingers. What--? You push back, but somehow this scientist is able to stop your blade handily.
With that disgusting know-it-all-voice, he starts, "If you want answers, then I shall give them to you."
You withdraw your sword, but A████ keeps advancing on you with that gross look in his eyes - you keep back, still putting Red Queen between you and him.
His voice drips with fanaticism. "It has only been a few years since I began this research... Could we isolate and bind demonic power, it would enable use to conquer the world! And that, that is the wish of His Holiness!"
...Does he actually expect you to believe this? Putting aside the absurd levels of villainy behind this world domination plan, all this technology didn't amount to shit right now. The supposed head of this grand, secret scheme had his brains splattered all over the cathedral floor.
"What a crock... And you may as well ditch the efforts pal, because His Holiness is dead."
Undeterred, A████ spreads his arms in a grand gesture. Waxing poetic about this insane scheme. "Ahhh, but His Holiness has been reborn. As an angel!"
You echo, incredulous. "An angel...?"
Bowing before you, he promises, "And soon, soon... so shall I."
You catch only a split second of his intent before, out of nowhere, his armoured 'angels' skewer you to the wall. You scream, impaled straight through on a lance - and as one is ripped from your torso, two more crucify you. Pinned, helpless, like a bleeding bug on a needle.
That sick motherfucker glows with pride over his Bianco Angelos, hovering at his command. "See what just a small fraction of my research has yielded? Look! How beautiful this white armour stands! You have no idea the hardship to make just one armour come to life. I had to capture and control countless demons to harness their souls. Summoning them alone was almost an insurmountable task!"
With what little strength you have, you lift your head and hiss, "Summoning...? So it was you... who made the gate!?"
Excitably, he crows, clearly starving for an audience for his 'genius'. "Yes, yes, the Hellgate! I created it merely as a, reference-- in substitution for the real Gate. But, after utilizing an extremely powerful Devil's Arm, it proved sufficient."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
With disdain, he scoffs - realizing you have no appreciation for his demonic theory. Holding his hand out, he summons a Gladius to him-- "You should rest..."
--and stabs you through the chest, with a blade wide enough to cut you from sternum to pelvis. It's all you can do to even cling to life as your bones and organs split apart, filling your throat - you cry out, but it's more blood than sound that comes out of you.
"Soon, you shall be my next subject of experimentation - so that I can learn a little something from you... and that arm."
For a three-fold witch fused to a monstrous, giant bird fetus, she's hard to miss. That is to say, she stands out like a thumb well past sore, and gone putrid. That taunting, sing-song voice rings through the rotting, arcane walls of the cavern as she advances on her prey: "I'm cooomiiing..."
You take aim with Blue Rose-- BANG! right at the back of her head. She staggers, affronted - and you step up in your usual swagger. "Gotta pay attention, sweetheart."
She hisses and turns to you, sizing you up with disdain. "Sparda's kin... but you're nothing more than an empty shell with no power! You are as weak as your flesh... human."
Ha. Funny. "Hey, we're tougher than you look," you remark, casual. "But--" a shrug, "there's only one way to find out."
"I will enjoy this..." Her voice is sinister, while her bird's is deafening - rearing back in a roar that shakes the walls.
For something so big, that overgrown chicken moves with shocking speed. It stomps like a bucking bronco, pecks like a jackhammer, and charges with the power of a runaway train - all while she brandishes her dark magic to open portals, fill the ground and air with spikes to skewer you.
Anyway it's a cool boss fight, you kill her, video here because I'm lazy: 0:00 to 4:05
You take aim with Blue Rose-- BANG! right at the back of her head. She staggers, affronted - and you step up in your usual swagger. "Gotta pay attention, sweetheart."
She hisses and turns to you, sizing you up with disdain. "Sparda's kin... but you're nothing more than an empty shell with no power! You are as weak as your flesh... human."
Ha. Funny. "Hey, we're tougher than you look," you remark, casual. "But--" a shrug, "there's only one way to find out."
"I will enjoy this..." Her voice is sinister, while her bird's is deafening - rearing back in a roar that shakes the walls.
For something so big, that overgrown chicken moves with shocking speed. It stomps like a bucking bronco, pecks like a jackhammer, and charges with the power of a runaway train - all while she brandishes her dark magic to open portals, fill the ground and air with spikes to skewer you.
Anyway it's a cool boss fight, you kill her, video here because I'm lazy: 0:00 to 4:05
Edited 2020-01-30 08:06 (UTC)
The only way guns get into Fortuna is if you can get them smuggled in from the mainland. And hey, it's not like your reputation can get much worse, right? Started off as a curiosity, from some old magazines you found at the docks - but soon, you were actively trying to research them yourself. Putting whatever extra spending money you had into the hands of the less scrupled importers that came to town, just so you could get your hands on some.
As much as you would've loved a shotgun, it wasn't versatile enough to help out at long range. You even briefly entertained the idea of a sniper rifle, but concealing it would've been impossible, and it would've been so unwieldy up close. And missile launcher... man. As cool as that'd be, your job's supposed to be protecting this town, not causing even more collateral damage. What you need is an all-purpose companion, that could be effective in any situation. So you begin trying out handguns, testing them on whatever demons you come across.
Quickly, you find that small caliber bullets could barely scratch anything with armoured skin. It had to be a high caliber handgun... but even then, it might not do enough damage.
You spend your nights working on a solution. Double barrels, but modeled after the vertical style of a derringer. Two types of bullet, fired at once with a time delay of a tenth of a second. The first, a piercing round to crack through demon hide, followed by an explosive round to really hurt them once exposed. Of course, how to load a gun with alternating rounds was a real pain to figure out. Automatic pistols are beyond your ken to figure out on your own, so you end up sticking with a revolver. And of course, theory was easier than actually making it work. It takes weeks of tinkering, testing, tweaking, over and over, and training yourself with it too - until everything finally works.
As a final touch, you carve a design onto the barrel of the gun, careful not to grind weaken the structural stability of the metal by grinding too deep. The effort and focus takes you hours, your (two human) hands covered in sweat.
You christen the gun 'Blue Rose'. There's a poetry to it you like. This gun was something that wasn't meant to exist on this island; its make was by all means absurd, but completely unique; built for fighting demons that weren't meant to exist in this world. It was an impossible thing, just like blue roses.
As much as you would've loved a shotgun, it wasn't versatile enough to help out at long range. You even briefly entertained the idea of a sniper rifle, but concealing it would've been impossible, and it would've been so unwieldy up close. And missile launcher... man. As cool as that'd be, your job's supposed to be protecting this town, not causing even more collateral damage. What you need is an all-purpose companion, that could be effective in any situation. So you begin trying out handguns, testing them on whatever demons you come across.
Quickly, you find that small caliber bullets could barely scratch anything with armoured skin. It had to be a high caliber handgun... but even then, it might not do enough damage.
You spend your nights working on a solution. Double barrels, but modeled after the vertical style of a derringer. Two types of bullet, fired at once with a time delay of a tenth of a second. The first, a piercing round to crack through demon hide, followed by an explosive round to really hurt them once exposed. Of course, how to load a gun with alternating rounds was a real pain to figure out. Automatic pistols are beyond your ken to figure out on your own, so you end up sticking with a revolver. And of course, theory was easier than actually making it work. It takes weeks of tinkering, testing, tweaking, over and over, and training yourself with it too - until everything finally works.
As a final touch, you carve a design onto the barrel of the gun, careful not to grind weaken the structural stability of the metal by grinding too deep. The effort and focus takes you hours, your (two human) hands covered in sweat.
You christen the gun 'Blue Rose'. There's a poetry to it you like. This gun was something that wasn't meant to exist on this island; its make was by all means absurd, but completely unique; built for fighting demons that weren't meant to exist in this world. It was an impossible thing, just like blue roses.
Edited 2020-02-20 21:22 (UTC)
Manga pages here
Summary:
- ████ wakes up from a nightmare to find V, having entered his room from an open window
- his arm was lost not that long ago
- V tells him he needs his help to fight Urizen, who was also the demon who took his arm
- ████ finds it incredulous that there's a demon D████ can't beat
- V manipulates him into helping by casting doubt on his sense of self-confidence
- ████ gets his weapons while thinking about Kyrie, how she wouldn't want him to go if she knew he was doing this-- but this doesn't stop him
- Then he and V wait in awkward silence for the helicopter to land
Summary:
- ████ wakes up from a nightmare to find V, having entered his room from an open window
- his arm was lost not that long ago
- V tells him he needs his help to fight Urizen, who was also the demon who took his arm
- ████ finds it incredulous that there's a demon D████ can't beat
- V manipulates him into helping by casting doubt on his sense of self-confidence
- ████ gets his weapons while thinking about Kyrie, how she wouldn't want him to go if she knew he was doing this-- but this doesn't stop him
- Then he and V wait in awkward silence for the helicopter to land
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