2018-03-28: He Who Walks

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  • Cutscene: He Who Walks
  • Cast: Unknown
  • Where: Unknown
  • Date: March 28th, 2018
  • Summary: On Filgaia, mysterious voices converse about the recent events in Western Ignas, while a reserved figure watches on.


The darkness here never changed, nor did the perpetually low, throbbing hum of the great, whirring machine suspended in it, fueled as it was by the thoughts and rancor of men long dead to the world.

Their chatter was as incessant as they were old, serving no purpose other than to distract the attention of the one living man present, whose eyes never left the scrolling screen of esoteric data figures before him as he typed, analyzed, and listened.

Three large images pierced the darkness with ambient light, painting a clear image of recent events: The Elw Ruins over Lost July, The damaged Tzadkiel in battle with metal demons, and the snarling face of the creature known as Heldalf, the Lord of Calamity.

“And there’s been no sign of the third fleet?” Asked one of the voices, harsh and digitized as ever.

“None.” Answered another. “Initial patrols around Lost July found no evidence of destruction or atomization. The readings suggest a phase transfer shift phenomenon not unlike the one detected a year ago…it’s likely they crossed over.”

“After all that trouble to acquire the focus, he goes and takes it beyond our reach. Worthless.” Said the first voice, prompting an orchestrally damning series of buzzes and error tones as the others all weighed in with mutual agreement.

“He overextended himself…but there’s no accounting for trash.” Continued another dead voice, glowering.

Finally, the living man spoke, his voice an even and formless calm.

“The focus is only beyond us for now. More importantly, the demons no longer have it. The delay to their plans will be beneficial, just as Emperor Cain had foreseen.”

Having said his piece, the man fell silent again on his data. A brief command summoned the image of a young, purple-haired man-‘Rudy Roughknight’, read the label-to his smaller screen. ‘

"That might be of use." He thought.

“True enough.” The last voice admitted, though on a grudging note. “But if the ‘anointed’ have departed, they have left a fine mess for us to clean up.”

The images faded and re-assembled to display an aerial photo of another city: Krosse, of late besieged by mysterious and impenetrable forces.

“Hmph. Some degree of losses are acceptable.” Said one of them (the living man found little point in keeping track). “Re-deploy one of the other fleets from Aquvy…”

“Allow me some time to study the phenomenon first.” The living man asked, brushing a strand of pale hair from his face. “Besides, it would be more efficient to strike at the demon leadership first, while they are off-balance.”

“Hah, so ruthless.” The voices spoke back, perhaps perturbed by the way man’s seemed to order. “No lingering affection for old allies, Krelian?”

“All that I do not need, I have thrown away.” Krelian said, closing the screen and preparing to take his leave. “Siegfried has made his choice.”

He left the room, leaving the ghosts of mortal man to bicker and validate themselves endlessly, footfalls echoing tonelessly on perfectly polished, sterile steel.

A vague, transient sense of nostalgia briefly passed over him, and was gone the moment he paused in his step.

This was correct. He had no need for any of the petty, gormless schemes the ministry wiled away its time on.

All he needed was ‘her’.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gDM4ZeBE4-4