2019-03-22: Birth of a Wish

• Log: Birth of a Wish
• Cast: K.K., Seraph Lanval, Catenna, Seraph Clarine, Lee Knight, Fei Fong Wong, Lemina Ausa, Josephine Lovelace, Seraph Beast, Talia, Xantia, Ida Everstead-Rey, Jean, Elhaym van Houten, Elvis, Cyre H. Lorentz, Chime Isa, Gwen Whitlock, Seraph Solanine, Seraph Ceimglace, Seraph Ragnell, Cecilia Adlehyde
• Where: Ruined Garlyle
• Date: March 22, 2019
• Summary: Following their hearts Drifters of all kinds, from all walks of life, have made their way through Love's Cradle to confront K.K. and Seraph Ragnell. Will their love and determination be enough to prevent the Anomalous Orb from being turned on the heart of a Guardian Lord, or will Filgaia utter its last breath?

---

=============================<* Ruined Garlyle *>=============================

The ruins of Garlyle are a stark, frightful sight. Two disasters have left this kingdom with nary even a structure standing. The first, caused by some experiment of the Garlyle Military gone wrong, destroyed the capital and the countryside. The second was caused by the Civilization Destroyer, Id. The result is a blasted land: blackened and burnt landscape, which occasionally gives way to valleys of glass. Periodically, one can find a half-battered wall or the outline of a foundation here. Below ground, however, secrets may await...

DC: Talia switches forms to The Charming Sellsword!

<Pose Tracker> K.K. has posed.

                                                    B e f o r e

"I do not think I will ever get used to the sight."

The coastline stretches for miles. The water is crystal clear, sparkling glints of sunlight off its sloshing surface like so many countless jewels. The waves lap against white sands, foaming with salt at their fringes.

And it is quiet. So very quiet.

It is from an outcropping of rocks near the shoreline that the robed figure watches. They sit, hood drawn tight, arms folded at their midsection. They tremble, every now and then, a full-bodied thing.

"Mayhap," they muse, voice quiet and beset by occasional tremors, "it is for the best that I do not."

Beside them, their companion sits with legs hugged to her chest. Her gaze is distant, empty, shell-shocked; yet, at the sound of their voice, she ticks a stare up at them.

"Maybe so," she agrees.

Knees draw up towards the robed figures chest, quivering uneasily against their forearms. "At the least, it shall serve as a guidepost for the way forward. What I can do... what... what I may never do again."

Their companion rolls up to her feet. "You're trembling," she observes, stepping close--very close--to them. "Not that I blame you. Is--" She swallows hard. "Is there anything I can do?"

A flicker of gratitude can be seen under that hood. Unseen, their gaze shifts to their companion. "Your concern alone is enough to find strength in," they assure. Quiet passes, for a time. And then: "But this... this, is my burden to bear. 'Tis not a thing I can afford succor for. I must learn to be its master, lest it master me. If I cannot... if I cannot, all this shall have been for naught. I will find the way."

In that, their trembling voice is stronger than the most unbreakable steel.

Her expression tenses; then it gentles into a heartbreaking smile. "That's so you." She bows her head, bangs shading her eyes, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. "That's always been... so you."

A long silence. Then she sucks in a huge breath through her nose, and lets it out in the form of a heavy sigh as she sets her hands on her hips. "Before you find any way, though, if you want to master this, you'll have to master how others see you. What you have right now? Not a good look. For who you're going to be, you'll need a new one."

"A new... look?"

"Yeah. Like armor or something. Something intimidating."

The robed figure considers. Their head cants.

"Something... intimidating."

<Pose Tracker> K.K. has posed.

               N o w

The polished white armor of the Trial Knight reflects little else beyond the ebbing beat of blue light that surrounds them as they stare with quiet contemplation at their works. Beyond them, the Ark Scepter floats, suspended in place by arcane force; above it, the Anomalous Orb rests, set upon the top of the artifact like the prize jewel on a royal scepter. With every pulse of Ley through this room, the Orb pulses in turn, just slightly out of beat. Slightly incongruous. Slightly contradictory. Each beat reflects bruised violets along the surface of that radiant white shine of metal.

Fingers twitch exactly once within the suffusing glow of the Ley.

"... They come," they utter to their companion. That hand lifts forward, pressing on the empty air between them and their weapon. Their bullet. "They are strong. Perchance stronger than they yet know."

"Strong enough to grind us to dust, maybe," Ragnell agrees with a dark smirk as she polishes her handguns. "Though I'm not bettin' on that~."

A murmur of words. And the space of air wobbles as runic symbols etch themselves into existence around the Scepter and the Orb, growing to truly labyrinthine properties as complex wards establish themselves, etched into the lifeblood of all that is.

"If this is to be the end of things, so be it. But I would struggle until that end with everything that I am." That faceless helm tilts their companion's way as she holsters her firearms and stands, the glow of the growing wards ever-intensifying.

"For all that is dear to me."

And as light sears into a gleaming gateway, the knight turns, wrapped in that armor that has concealed them so well for so long. Their gait proud. Their stance noble.

"'Tis time. Let none but the worthy dare cross this threshold."

                                    ---

This place is strange. In some ways, similar to the innermost landscape of Uzda il-Jam, blue crystal webs its way through the natural stonework structure of this multi-leveled sanctum in a gradient progression that grows further and further until the architecture is almost entirely composed of pulsing, crystallized Ley. There is a strange sense of impermanence that saturates this place; it is not an ill or off-putting sensation, at least, not by its nature, but somehow, it all feels as transient as it does physical.

Like it was straddling some unseen line between the physical world, and something else.

The main level of this place is a wide and circular one, the warm glow of it perfectly complemented by stonework tributes to the Guardian of Love; murals of Raftina decorate the walls of the promenade leading in. They are old, dulled with the passage of time. But beautiful in their own way.

It's history. Untouched and forgotten for who knows how many years. Few know of this sanctuary's existence.

And fewer still likely know just how deep it goes.

White floors ringed with flowing blue lead one inexorably forward. The Ley is a warm sensation, carrying with it the undercurrents of Raftina's place of power... and something else.

With every beat of the Ley, there is the pulse of another, just slightly out of step. Discordant. Anomalous. Every time, the blue in this sanctum bleeds briefly into bruised shades of violets, blues and blacks. Every time, those hues linger a little bit longer, a little bit stronger.

And one need only trace the contradictory flow to find where it leads --

A stretch of seemingly empty space, shimmering and twisting as if it had weight in its emptiness. Wards sear with fluctuating light, imprinted on this space. And at the very front of it -- a grand archway made entirely of light, easily at least twice as large as even the largest amongst their ranks, its ethereal frame etched with deep black runes.

With every pulse of sickening discordance, what lays beyond can be seen, briefly, as if it was out of phase with the rest of the world.

An ancient scepter, affixed with a crystal orb. Churning with malignance.

Its pollution intensifying with every pulse, as if it were building up to something.

And there, in front of that gate, they wait. The Trial Knight, currently unarmed in a way most would recognize could change in a moment's notice. And Ragnell, her pistols in their holsters, her thumbs hooked in her jean pockets, watching the Malevolence build.

She turns her gaze, and subsequent smirk, to the first arrivals. "Yo," she drawls, turning towards the Drifters. "Took y'all long enough." She cricks her neck back and forth, then in a circle, as if to limber up. "Well, we all know how this goes, so let's cut to th' chase an' get this over with, yeah? 'nlessen you wanted t' say somethin', K.K.."

For now, though, the knight says nothing. They wait. Wait for the Drifters. A doorway leading ostensibly to the bullet that will kill a god. Two figures, guarding the gates. Waiting.

Waiting for their choice.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Lanval has posed.

        A certain white-haired Symbologist stays behind as many of the Drifters rush ahead. From his journey deeper within Love's Cradle, an ugly truth has reared its ugly head - the Anomalous Orb has thrown a recent memory from Lunar, where he was present (and also responsible, in great part) for the death of Cardinal Forton of Rolance.
        His memory.
        Memories that he seeks, memories that are for him alone, memories whose anomalous expressions he must destroy.
        For the contradictions that seem to be in this statement and very idea, his humanity does not appear to be challenged any. With the understanding that a number present are already equipped with the means to purify when the opportunity presents, whatever underlying reason - to himself - seems to be more important than the do-or-die scenario presented.
        Such is his way, as he stares down the latest distortions - irrelevant in terms of content but no less dangerous - flung his way as he moves to protect the flank.
 

---

 
        Unlike the way he carries himself, Lanval is walking upright as he navigates the blue-hued crystallized Ley, as though the metaphysical nature of being a Seraph enables one to find steadier footing in a place that seems to exist between the corporeal and something else. He may be helping lead many of the rest here because of this, where the pulsing contradiction and distortion may lead others astray.
        Once his bare feet step out into the emptiness, his voice carries through moments before he appears.
        "Got a messhage from Lydia," the drunken spirit slurs as Ragnell calls to cut to the chase. He clears his throat. He doesn't need to do that, but, breathing exercises are one of those funny habits he got from mortals. It's a great meditative measure. This is also because he treats these words with the respect they are due, for whom this was important to.
        "She shaysh... thank ya. I hope yer happy together." He says, looking out to the Trial Knight and the Lightning Seraph who are gathered before that gate. There he is, staring down a figure of legend and one of the few Seraphim that still gave him a hand of friendship after he was forcefully relieved from his role as a Lord of the Land.
        Within this much Malevolence, that any Seraph stands here without becoming a dragon on the spot is not just a testament their individual spiritual strength to resist the venom that transforms them into vehicles for destruction and misery.
        It is a signal that they stand with unshaken and unchallenged resolves for what they are setting foot here to do, even as the violet colors swirl and probe for any opening in which to try and infest itself within the elemental spirits from a neighboring world.
        "Good luck... okay!" Lanval finishes that statement as he scratches at that chin. "That'sh what she had ta shay." ...She probably didn't mean for those last few words to be for them, but that he says them all the same is how much he respects that means to her even if he has - for a rare moment of humor in these circumstances - messed up the message by addition. It is better than leaving it by omission.
        He knows better than to second guess anything at this point, as he moves to hold his drinking gourd in both hands at around waist level. Both of his eyes are closed, though there is a sense that he is looking to Ragnell in a way that can only make sense between spirits like themselves.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Clarine has posed.

Uncertainty and hesitation wells up in Clarine's mind, but her heart and her feet carry her foreward. Slowly, step by step.

It was difficult, wading through the Sanctuary alone. There were times where she was unsure she'd even survive.

But she had to.

She had been told what was happening, and she couldn't ignore it. She was...afraid. And worried. But that was why she had to go - why she couldn't stop. She looked battered and exhausted on the outside, but there's a rare determination in her eyes as she proceeds. Deep through those strange halls, following the lure of the Ley. Into empty space, and toward the sickening pulses beyond.

And then, there they are.

Ragnell, the Trial Knight.

Clarine watches both of them carefully, and then bows her head quietly.

"Ragnell, it is...good to see you again." She says quietly, then looks toward her armored companion. "Trial Knight...I am sorry we have not had the chance to have words."

And then, in a smooth, elegant motion she turns. Like rays of light a series of mirrors slide into existance, spinning around her before she returns to her original facing.

"I am...no good with words. I always...stutter, and hesitate, and trip over them. So...please. Allow me to convey my feelings to you in this manner." She says, quietly.

<Pose Tracker> Catenna has posed.

                -- YEARS AGO --

        she places the mask over her face. she drapes herself in the gi. her hand slides into the grips of the metal talon. around her, the ancient red of the mane flows, older even than the mask.
        these things are supposed to begin the process. they conceal the human she is. they present a new face. the bestial aspect. no longer does a human walk the world. the daughter of cientas is no more.
        she has become a dark weapon. a monster to reclaim their homeland.
        the weapon stands, silent and implacable. nature closes around her.
        and she clutches something in her other hand. the stone tablet.
        the holy moon's face is upon it. it feels right.
        behind the mask of the weapon, her human eyes close, and she feels the tears coming.
        i'll never be like riima....




        -- NOW--

Catenna did not stop to rest after digesting a phantom of Berserk through a grand singularity, ejecting him as a highly-condensed meat object roughly the shape and vitality of a soda can but significantly more dense and bloody. She just downed an etheric potion of some kind, crammed a healing nut into her mouth, and ran on with due intensity.

Too much is at stake for her to dawdle. Too much has been put on the table on the Trial Knight's shitty game, and now she's got to hurry and put an end to it.

Here, love exists in a place between the ley and the real, the ancient stonework and the landscape of blue-laced ley coming together to form the place she had sought since a whisper in her thoughts in the streets of doomed Azado. Catenna's heart races with an irrational exuberance at the knowledge that she's found the Lost Sanctuary of at least one of the Guardian Lords - but it quickly dies away. She can't stop to give Raftina news of anything right now.

Not when that sickening pulse of grim feelings beats through what should be one of the holiest holies there is. Bow in hand, she begins to step towards the gateway that flickers at the heart of it all, that scepter beyond it, the orb churning away in anticipation of whatever doom the Trial Knight might have in store for them. She can just see it beyond the two people standing in front of it.

'Yo.'

Catenna restrains herself. They wouldn't be standing out in the open if they weren't ready for us.

A deep scowl darkens her face like a storm front slowly moving in. She breathes in through her nose, then lets it out in a rush.

Her determination doesn't need translation. It comes through in her eyes and in the simple readiness of her stance. The language speaks itself, and it's all too human.

So is the fact that she immediately turns away from Ragnell and K.K. and breaks into a dash, vaulting away from the pair to try and come at the arch from the side. Her fingers begin to work hastily as she spins a spell - and silver light begins to stream from them as she rushes for the door, picking up her pace as she goes.

Sassing the Trial Knight, even without words, will not save Filgaia. Only destroying the Anomalous Orb will - and she's got spells of dispellation most of the way woven even as she hurls herself at the door, trying to sail past K.K. without a brawl.

GS: Dispellado has spent 2 Combo on Inspire and Reload, including 0 on Gatling!
GS: Dispellado has attacked Elvis with A Better End!
GS: Dispellado has spent 2 Combo on Inspire and Reload, including 0 on Gatling!
GS: Dispellado has attacked Seraph Lanval with A Better End!
GS: Dispellado has gained 2 Combo!
GS: Dispellado has spent 2 Combo on Inspire and Reload, including 0 on Gatling!
GS: Dispellado has attacked Jean with Gods Bound By Rules!
GS: Dispellado has spent 2 Combo on Inspire and Reload, including 0 on Gatling!
GS: Dispellado has attacked Gwen Whitlock with Gods Bound By Rules!
GS: Dispellado has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Dispellado has spent 2 Combo on Inspire and Reload, including 0 on Gatling!
GS: Dispellado has attacked Xantia with Gods Bound By Rules!
GS: Dispellado has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Dispellado has spent 2 Combo on Inspire and Reload, including 0 on Gatling!
GS: Dispellado has attacked Seraph Clarine with Gods Bound By Rules!
GS: Dispellado has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Dispellado has spent 2 Combo on Inspire and Reload, including 0 on Gatling!
GS: Dispellado has attacked Lemina Ausa with Gods Bound By Rules!
GS: Dispellado has gained 2 Combo!
GS: Dispellado has spent 2 Combo on Inspire and Reload, including 0 on Gatling!
GS: Dispellado has attacked Seraph Beast with Gods Bound By Rules!
GS: Dispellado has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Dispellado has spent 2 Combo on Inspire and Reload, including 0 on Gatling!
GS: Dispellado has attacked Chime Isa with Gods Bound By Rules!
GS: Dispellado has gained 2 Combo!
GS: Dispellado has spent 2 Combo on Inspire and Reload, including 0 on Gatling!
GS: Dispellado has attacked Lee Knight with Gods Bound By Rules!
GS: Dispellado has spent 2 Combo on Inspire and Reload, including 0 on Gatling!
GS: Dispellado has attacked Seraph Solanine with Gods Bound By Rules!

DC: Seraph Ragnell switches forms to The Loyal!

GS: Seraph Lanval takes a solid hit from Dispellado's A Better End for 0 hit points!
GS: Hyper, Quick, and Shield! Statuses applied to Seraph Lanval!
GS: Reload! Seraph Lanval gains 15 extra FP from Dispellado!
GS: Seraph Lanval gains a Combo from Inspire!
GS: Seraph Clarine takes a solid hit from Dispellado's Gods Bound By Rules for 0 hit points!
GS: Reload! Seraph Clarine gains 15 extra FP from Dispellado!
GS: Seraph Clarine gains a Combo from Inspire!
GS: Gwen Whitlock takes a solid hit from Dispellado's Gods Bound By Rules for 0 hit points!
GS: Reload! Gwen Whitlock gains 15 extra FP from Dispellado!
GS: Gwen Whitlock gains a Combo from Inspire!

<Pose Tracker> Lee Knight has posed.

        Lee Knight. Someone that's been around. In the shadows. Out of sync with the chaos and world saving aspects of fate that has been so rough to so many. So it was that a metal Squirrel lead him on a different path. Something closer to the fighting. Something for him to show that strength.
        Following a drunken spirit that to him was simply that guy from under a table, Lee shifted that grip on the boulder over his shoulder, the handle felt warm in his hand for once. Those cracks in the rock itself a moot testiment to exactly how much damage that mass of stone has done and been through. As the others stall, preparing to face the two at the doorway, Lee slowly shifts that rock forward, holding onto the handle with both hands.
        "You two could give up you know. I mean.. I understand you think that you're helping the world. Or something like that. But seriously. Stop. Walk away. Let people save it from the mess done."

GS: Elvis takes a solid hit from Dispellado's A Better End for 0 hit points!
GS: Hyper, Quick, and Shield! Statuses applied to Elvis!
GS: Reload! Elvis gains 15 extra FP from Dispellado!
GS: Elvis gains a Combo from Inspire!
GS: Lee Knight takes a solid hit from Dispellado's Gods Bound By Rules for 0 hit points!
GS: Reload! Lee Knight gains 15 extra FP from Dispellado!
GS: Lee Knight gains a Combo from Inspire!
GS: Chime Isa takes a solid hit from Dispellado's Gods Bound By Rules for 0 hit points!
GS: Reload! Chime Isa gains 15 extra FP from Dispellado!
GS: Chime Isa gains a Combo from Inspire!
GS: Reload! Xantia gains 15 extra FP from Dispellado!
GS: Xantia gains a Combo from Inspire!

DC: Seraph Solanine switches forms to Knight Shade!

<Pose Tracker> Fei Fong Wong has posed.

A mysterious shrouded woman in a straw hat stays behind. She communicates over an Empathite Radio about the situation to the rest of ARMS. She doesn't seem to be interested in the Symbologist's memories but she has been particularly difficult for him to lose. A crooked boogiepop smile never leaves her lips as she says, "A million memories here, but what shall they be translated to?"

She follows along. "You know one thing about heroes, Ethius... Is that no matter how much good you bring into the world, you can't be sure someone was a hero until they die. Some might say that's a sad truth...but personally... I take great comfort in this fact."

She too has memories she cannot risk. To do so would flirt with countless disasters. For now she must leave this to the drifters. Luckily she has good reason to believe they will succeed...but the costs of which, well, that she won't know until they are paid.

She probably winked at Clarine when she arrived too.

---

Fei Fong Wong arrives shortly after Lanval. He promised to follow him in. He lets the Seraph say his peace about Lydia before walking forwards himself. "Riesenlied had a message too." He says. "She's still figuring out her own answer. But she says that she will always love the both of you."

He looks towards the drunken spirit for a moment before taking a deep breath and exhaling it out slowly. He closes his eyes. His fists tremble. He takes one more breath and his fists still.

"As for me..." He says slowly. "I know why Love carries a sword now, thanks to you."

His hair flickers into a red color as the demon grin slowly comes upon his face. He extends his hands in a claw like form as he starts dashing forward, charging K.K head on.

"Love carries a sword...because a Love that won't get angry, that won't fight when those you care about are hurting...is a weak-ass love!!"

He closes in on K.K, swinging his fist forward and---

---running right past K.K towards the Orb and the wards.

"You have shown us respect, so I will show respect to you in turn in the language of my people...!" 'Fei' raises a second fist into the air and then extends the middle finger of both fists.

This may be the greatest proof that Id is from Claude's world yet.

But then the red aura flares away from him and it's Fei again.

Well?
Okay, you were right, that was great
Heh

Looks like Fei has made his choice: Stop the Orb. "Let's catch the bullet." Fei says. He's caught real bullets before, so maybe that's a good sign.

GS: Dispellado has spent 2 Combo on Inspire and Reload, including 0 on Gatling!
GS: Dispellado has attacked Cyre H. Lorentz with A Better End!
GS: Jean takes a solid hit from Dispellado's Gods Bound By Rules for 0 hit points!
GS: Reload! Jean gains 15 extra FP from Dispellado!
GS: Jean gains a Combo from Inspire!
GS: Reload! Cyre H. Lorentz gains 15 extra FP from Dispellado!
GS: Cyre H. Lorentz gains a Combo from Inspire!
GS: Reload! Seraph Solanine gains 15 extra FP from Dispellado!
GS: Seraph Solanine gains a Combo from Inspire!
GS: Reload! Lemina Ausa gains 15 extra FP from Dispellado!
GS: Lemina Ausa gains a Combo from Inspire!

<Pose Tracker> Lemina Ausa has posed.

Lemina is a little overwhelmed by Raftina's place of power, itself -- but more than that, she's put off by the feeling itself. She's always been sensitive to this sort of thing -- not so much so that it's unusual for a mage, but enough so that the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and she kind of cringes through the whole experience. She, unlike many, has had to rush in a big way to get here; as a result, she's even *more* off balance.

When at last she sees Ragnell and the Trial Knight, her heart sinks. It's not that this was unexpected -- in fact, quite the opposite. But it's another thing to actually see her as an enemy. She flinches -- but quickly shifts her posture to one of strained bravado.

She does not have a speech ready. Instead, she sees Fei rush in, hears him speak of a love that carries a sword -- and the first thing she offers is, simply, "Yeah, I'm with him on this one." There's a beat, before she turns her attention back to Ragnell again.

"So -- was this a recent thing, or was this the plan all along...?" she asks, drawing her staff. "Sorry, I'm not up on the mega-fine details of the whole, treachery, thing." She looks ready -- if only ready to support Fei, rather than strike.

She spares a momentary glance toward Clarine, too. ... but just a momentary one.

<Pose Tracker> Josephine Lovelace has posed.

        The cannon is set down on the floor of the temple here with enough force that it resounds off the walls.

        She's been chasing these two, all the way from Krosse -- once she was well enough to travel. And now, at last, she's reached the end of this journey.

        "It's not going to make a difference either way," the archaeologist says, lighting a cigarette with a snap of Symbological magic. "I'm gonna take what I'm owed." Her dark eyes narrow. "But what in the Guardian's green hell are you two trying to pull?"

        She takes a drag, exhaling smoke into the chamber, perhaps as a sort of counterpoint to the throb of Malevolence. "Call it an academic interest."

        It is, in fact, precisely for that reason that she lights up.

        Something's about to happen. Something terrible is about to happen. You don't get to be Josie's age without getting a feel for these sorts of things.
        You don't get to be a magus' daughter without getting a feel for these sorts of things.

        Something uncomfortable stirs in the pit of her stomach. At her shoulder, Penelope trembles.

        Is that... fear?

        Don't worry.

        Normally this wouldn't be her problem. Normally she'd be happy to leave it to other people to fix -- to hone in on her own concerns.
        But that's fine.
        Sometimes, things are only brought into focus by the event itself.
        She became involved -- they were both involved, in a way. And now it's become her problem because she wills it so. It's her problem and she'll tear it to pieces.

        I won't let them destroy your world.

        She fixes Knight and Seraph alike with a stare, cigarette smoldering between her fingers.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Beast has posed.

        Perhaps one of the people Lanval led, in the end, was the Beast of Lohgrin.

        She ought to do more, she'd mused to Ragnell. Thought becomes action; actions cannot be reneged.

        She oughtn't be here, she thinks, as metal claws mark the path. The wrongness permeates, perverses the air. There is no hint of the exposure she worked so hard to impress Ragnell with, now; she is encased in cage of iron. "I am well," she murmurs, quietly, on the approach, like an assurance or a prayer: "... I am well."

        Iron claw, segmented tail, wingplates and toothy jaws; in the rough harsh image of the Black Dragon, perhaps her vessel is a portent.

        And then they are come, and it is as the others have said, and she sees and she does not wish to see at all. The Trial Knight could be expected, certainly... but it is the woman beside her she speaks to. "Ragnell," says the Beast, as one claw curls upwards in uncertain gesture, and it is a word which shatters on the cliffs of her grief. This woman who has guided her - who has helped her - who has advised and prepared her for a world of Man she cannot understand, and here she stands, under the ill glow of the Orb. "Ragnell, please, is there no other way..?"

        Headplates lower, one sliding a little across the other. "You are my friend," she offers, hopelessly. "But this I - I cannot allow. ... please understand."

<Pose Tracker> Talia has posed.

Talia's footsteps carry her in with the mass of other Drifters. There is a flickering thought, that intrudes into her mind and refuses to leave: she doesn't have any right to lump herself in with them. It stays there, a little poisonous notion, as she makes her way towards the gate.

Towards the twisting light of that Anomalous Orb, its terrifying energies swirling and grasping at her. Occasionally, a little tendril of Malevolence gets close to her. One strand of purple-black energy comes in close, like smoke, and her red eyes shift from the Orb to Ragnell, standing there next to the Trial Knight.

        -=-=-

        Amaranth is crying before she even realises it.

        "Yes. I'm genuinely scared even if I'm trying to be courageous about it," she whimpers. "Trying to be-- respectful, to her wishes. As much as I can," as she half-burbles by the end.

        -=-=-

Talia feels her jaw work, setting on her face and her expression setting into a forced neutrality. There is, however, a hint of a smile on her face when she looks at Ragnell. Playful and masking her emotions, which are too conflicted to deal with in the moment. She knows what she has to do. "Ragnell! It is a shame we have to fight, no?" she says. "I was just getting to know you. I like you, too. So--"

She wheels back. Her eyes are on Fei's back, when she does, for a second. Then, to Ragnell -- and then to the Trial Knight. K.K. She doesn't know them; she doesn't know that she can meet their eyes, under that helmet of alabaster armor. She tries anyways.

And then she throws Mirage.

The short sword -- the Divine Arm -- flies past Ragnell and K.K. both. It hurtles for Fei's back, but shoots over his shoulder. The blade slams down near the gate, and Talia bursts apart into strands of shadowstuff, whipping and snaking through the air, and then reform. Her gloved hand clutches the hilt, as she appears near the gate.

"--Let's not fight, no?"

GS: Reload! Seraph Beast gains 15 extra FP from Dispellado!
GS: Seraph Beast gains a Combo from Inspire!

<Pose Tracker> Xantia has posed.

In over her head, as usual, Xantia knows nothing of this sanctuary or what it stands for. The very concept of Love puzzles her like few other things do. But that hardly matters - certainly not at this critical time. At a time like this, one has but to embrace the aspects of two other Guardian Lords, aspects which she's far more familiar with.

Following the only path that she ever has - straight through towards her goal - the red-haired martial artists has made her way to the inner sanctum. Dressed in her new combat gear, she is not lacking in confidence or determination, stepping forward with an expression that says 'all business', flexing her hands in preparation for what's to come.

When K.K. arrived to collect the orb in Krosse, one might have expected her to speak words of defiance or, just about as likely, immediately seek to resolve the issue through violence. Yet neither happened, she remained oddly silent at those developments. But that was then, and this is now. With the intention to destroy the very planet clear, they could only be one response.

And she has her Justice Speech ready to deliver, pointing dramatically at the Trial Knight.

"K.K.! You've gone too far this time! For all the pain and misery you've caused, for threatening all of Filgaia... In the name of Hope, I'll beat you down!"

Not a very long speech, she's not much for those. But there was quite a bit of posing accompanying her words to make up for it. That's important if you want to be a true hero. Almost as important as dressing the part, which her new outfit's got solidly covered.

Ragnell doesn't get a similar talking to, or any kind of talking to at all. Only a smile and a nod in acknowledgement. They have an understanding. Xantia feels that they have an understanding, at least. Just two people doing whatever they feel like at any given time. That's fine, isn't it?

Though not immediately following up with the inevitable violence, she's ready to interpose herself with a burst of speed the moment that K.K. seeks to act in any way to stop the group heading for the Orb. That's what she's here for. To create an opening.

GS: Xantia has attacked Xantia with Red Streak Speeds By!
GS: Xantia has completed her action.
GS: Xantia takes a solid hit from Xantia's Red Streak Speeds By for 0 hit points!
GS: Quick! Statuses applied to Xantia!

<Pose Tracker> Ida Everstead-Rey has posed.

        Whether he realizes it or not, Seraph Lanval is acting as a beacon for at least one person. Ida Everstead-Rey walks at the Seraph's side, her gaze half-focused on him as a steadying measure in a place that keeps making less sense with every passing moment. There's nothing around them but the Ley, an omnipresent energy that raises the hairs on the back of Ida's neck. Wisps of it still cling to her, and the voice that spoke to her still echoes in her mind. She would keep going even if they'd failed to kill the apparition of Mother, but she feels less like she's been stuffed into a mail sack and beaten.

        Something resolves in the distance. Ida keeps walking, even as those two figures resolve themselves.

        Ida stops just behind Lanval, and looks at the reflection of herself in that faceless helm. Her face is leaner, and her hair is pulled back in a looser, less restrictive bun. She wears the grey-and-black buffcoat Kalve made for her, and beneath, the armored bodysuit of a fresh Hyadean neonate. She lets Lanval and Fei say their peace. She can sense Fei's tension. Truth be told, she's terrified, but she at least has something to focus on. A path ahead. A single goal.

        "Teacher," Ida says. She clasps her hands, the gloved human one gripping a clenched fist sheathed in extruded biometal. She bows, in the style her mother first taught her, to the entity that has helped shape her into what she is now. "I will stop this. We will stop this." She glances aside at Ragnell, and then steps forwards. Does she intend to simply walk past them?

        Fei--Id--gives her an opening. Ida's body blurs as chi floods her system; she surges forwards, between the two, through the hole Fei made. She stops, turns, glances back at the others. So many faces she knows. One in particular... "Beast!" Ida shouts, even as the world around her begins to twist and blur. She raises her hand, and flashes the Seraph the 'OK' signal. Talia manifests beside her a moment later, and Ida turns to look at her. "The only way out is through."

<Pose Tracker> Jean has posed.

Jean, too, steps across the strange non-space. ...She's not, really, dressed for battle; ordinary clothes, neither a special costume nor an armored set of gear. If she even carries her claws, they're stowed away. No fans, just gloves. And she looks up, to the others--to those the others are speaking to, to those they aren't...

She comes to a stop next to Lemina, after that, her dark eyes on Ragnell, above the other.

"...I think I knew, that we wouldn't always be on the same path," the dancer--the assassin?--admits. "You going your way, me going mine... It's part of what the appeal was in the first place. You were always going to do what you wanted."

"I won't pretend to look down on you. I won't pretend that you owed me, or anyone, anything different. But..."

"I'll ask, once. Are you sure? Are you sure that this--possibly killing a whole planet of people--is what you, and they, want to do?"

Jean's hands are at her sides, and she glances down, once. "Lucia doesn't seem to get along so well with the Guardians, either. They're angry with Althena, for something. I'm not saying whatever grudge you two have isn't real."

"...But because we're friends, I wanted to ask, and..." She looks up again, to Trial Knight and Seraph both. "And to tell you that I'll still think of you that way, even if we can't find a path to peace, here. We can both only do what we think is right. Right?"

<Pose Tracker> Elhaym van Houten has posed.

 
"... I don't know," Elly answers Lemina, having, unusually, not immediately run alongside of Fei. Maybe they have a plan.

The Ley glitters around them as Elly reaches into her jacket and pulls out a strip of calico cloth, which she uses to wrap her hair up into a loose ponytail, then into a tighter one. "It's hard to really get my head around. I suppose for a Seraph things look different, in terms of time."

As she gets her hair under control, Elly looks at Lemina directly. "... Thank you," she says to her, "and, I hope that I'll get to take the guild trial again, some time." She smiles then to Lemina, before nodding firmly once and bursting into a run. One that seems to go round the side - which becomes a lot more logical when her eyes narrow, her brow tenses, and a sudden surge of Ether produces a squat curved ice wall, which she throws herself down along.

This is hardly dignified, but it does mean there's ten inches of ice between her and the Trial Knight and Ragnell as she travels towards that doorway. On the far side she rolls neatly and kips back up, glancing over her shoulder for a moment.

<Pose Tracker> Elvis has posed.

This place. "It feels like..."

Elvis murmurs to his group, those that would dare stake a claim on the unstable commodity that is life. The clockwork heartbeat nature of the walls, the floor, the spaces between. They were in a place that was with the border between the physical word, and pure magic. "It must be close. Steel yourselves."

THe process of moving forward is both serene and unnerving. As the group draws closer, those azure hues begin to blink a darker shade. Then a darker color. The longer. More frequent. It was being corrupted.

And yet somewhere within the confines of this flux is a soothing voice that reaches the soul. It feels so familiar.

'I am so proud of you.'

Something within the man wells up. A journey will end today. Be it his, everyones, or their foes. "As researchers such as myself say. 'A book will close, and another shall open'. Perchance it will be a story of a happier time."

"If you need help with that, let me know," Elvis offers Josie.

---

Doorways and portals lead the group unto the waiting hands of their targets. THey stand at the single precipice this moment would have to conclude upon. Past them is the Ark Scepter and that Anomalus Orb. To bring about the means to stopping it, they must be stopped. They were mighty, but so many here here, with their convictions, accomplishments, and resolve.

This would turn out to be quite the debate of power.

"Trial Knight!" A massive hand extends out and points to the armored figure. "I shant idle about and give you my life's story. You know why I am here. My people have fought tooth and nail to survive now. I won't let you strike them down with your supposed bullet."

"It is my sworn duty as Sentinel to act in favor of them."

Titanic fists wrench tight.

"You both have one chance. Stand. Down."

<Pose Tracker> Cyre H. Lorentz has posed.

This is all perhaps a bridge too far.

Leaving the twisted remnants of the Quarter Knights in the mists of memory where they belong, the wind shaman hurries past without casting back a second glance. Ordinarily, the form he had assumed would be disappearing into a fine mist of emerald lights, but not now. Not here. There's too much at stake now, too much to rely on flesh alone. The Nahual of Fengalon speeds through the polluted Ley as fast as his bestial body can carry. He was right, there is little time- whatever it is the Trial Knight is trying to do, it's quickly reaching its zenith. But--

For one such as Cyre, there is a certain advantage to fighting amidst the churning tides of the very planet's lifeblood.

It pulses through him here. Surges through his veins. In the purely physical world, he would have to call upon this power from where it sleeps deep underground, but here he is submerged in it. More of his focus is spent trying to keep himself from being overwhelmed by the living pulse of the planet than is wasted in calling it from the thrumming life-stream. Here, he is nothing more than a focus- a conduit for the planet's power.

Maybe that's a risk, all things considered, but...

What is life, without a few risks?

The Nahual's eyes flicker toward Catenna in a brief, wordless exchange of trust. 'I've got your back,' he seems to say. And so he does, barreling forward like a rolling windstorm, not going straight for the sceptre and the spiritual toxin seeping from it, but rather...

Towards the two responsible for all this.

"Yo," Cyre drawls back to the Seraph from across the damn corridor. "I don't need to tell you that we're not about to let you get away with this. Not going to tell you to stand down or give up either. I won't be satisfied without at least one good hit across that smug mug of yours." There's a huff as the Nahual regards the white knight. "Both of yours."

DC: Cyre H. Lorentz switches forms to Nahual - Fengalon!

<Pose Tracker> Chime Isa has posed.

        Chime finds her way into the room of a final showdown, what some once may have and may still call a sanctum in appearance of the sarced temple to Raftina as it baskes in the beating flow of the ley line running through it. She's certainly not the first, but the elf seems in no hurry. She hangs back as she watches the others, a ready cheerful smile on her lips, make thier choices and push forth with their own ways to try and stop what's coming.

        From the entrance she came in, the cheerful elf watches on surveying the scene and others to see where she can best fit in while also examining a place she may never again get to see. Chances are they'll but get a single attempt to stop the knight and seraph plan, and failure remains ever an option in the world they live. No reason to assume the sun won't need a little help rising after a dark night sometimes.

GS: Chime Isa has attacked Chime Isa with Survey!
GS: Chime Isa has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Chime Isa has completed her action.
GS: Chime Isa takes a solid hit from Chime Isa's Survey for 0 hit points!

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

        See, there's definitely a reason why all of this was happening. That's what Gwen is thinking. It's a test, a means of drawing back the curtain in a painful, quick motion, and giving people the unpleasant jolt to go on ahead. Ragnell and KK are doing this for a reason, and her and everyone else's part to play is to show up and show the Trial Knight that Filgaia should be allowed to live. .... But what is the true bullet? There's more to this than Gwen knows.

        Then again, all of this is not exactly what Gwen was thinking moments before the distorted memories threatened to swallow her whole, before the love of Raftina rescued her and her friends.

        Now, she walks up, fully rejuvenated, but no less weary, drawing the sleeve of her coat up and unbuckling the strap over her right hand's palm. She glances to the sober-looking Trial Knight, looking back towards Ragnell, so casual like she's always been. "So we really gotta do this, huh." A gloved finger itches at her cheek, giving the two a self-conscious grin and a shrug. "Y'know, I *kinda* wanted t'spar you at some point but this isn't what I was thinkin'."

        Fog blue eyes stray towards her companions, to those as confused as she is, but no less resolute in their duty. She spends a long moment on Elvis, her mouth slowly opening in awe. "...."

        .... Is this why Frea seemed to like Elvis so much? Besides the whole 'fellow researcher' deal. The man is eccentric, yes, but when he wants to show himself as his station, he certainly knows how to do it.

        She also sights several who make the decision to dart past the two Guardians. Gwen, likewise, darts ahead, trying to place herself as a shield between them, for as long as she is able to keep up.

GS: Cyre H. Lorentz has attacked Seraph Ragnell with Gale Claw!
GS: Cyre H. Lorentz has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Cyre H. Lorentz has completed his action.
GS: Gwen Whitlock has attacked K.K. with Quasar Palm!
GS: Gwen Whitlock has completed her action.
GS: K.K. takes a solid hit from Gwen Whitlock's Quasar Palm for 56 hit points!
GS: Disrupt! Statuses applied to K.K.!
GS: Gwen Whitlock has lost 0 Combo!
GS: CRITICAL! Seraph Ragnell takes a solid hit from Cyre H. Lorentz's Gale Claw for 290 hit points!

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Solanine has posed.

Goddess save your sinful children of the Silver Star.

Have mercy on me, she of the dark that your other children fear, young, uncertain and lost herself amongst your Seraphim, but who in your absence must stand a force unyielding in this moment of trial.

As your voice.

Your will.

And your sword.

Bring strength and hope to the Seraph Lanval, that he may do the same.

Have mercy on the Seraph Ragnell whose heart has strayed so far as to commit a high blasphemy upon this world, seeking to corrupt its spirits with Malevolence.

Guide and protect us, your Lost Seraphim, and the mortals and immortals of Filgaia and Lunar both as we decide the fate of the Blue Star.

If you have not forsaken us...

Seraph Solanine stands a grim figure amongs the drifters, and steels herself for what's to come. Unlike many here she'd never encountered the Trial Knight, she watches him carefully and so prepares for anything she can imagine this legendary entity may send her way.

She gathers the darkness to herself, and it flows away to reveal a figure in heavy armor black as night, with her red spectacles hiding her eyes behind a glow of ambient light.

She puts her hand on the sword she'd never imagined she'd raise against a Divine, much less the first to offer her succor and kindness on the Blue Star. She holds it there in hopes that she may yet still not have to, but ready, if she must. To Ragnell herself she offers no smile, joke, comment or feign of surprise, and keeps the memory of better days locked away in both her mind, and upon her face. Ragnell surely knows that the chorus of Seraphim are here to deliver their Judgement upon her, and yet she still stands by the Knight's side.

Enviable perhaps. To follow a knight is a vice of the Shadow Seraph's as well. Hers does not live as Ragnell's does, and in her manifestation she holds the echo of his cause.

She sympathizes with Ragnell here, she understands the allure of their purpose.

To a point. Sola's Knight would never asked of her such a terrible deed, and would have asked her, had he known her, to stand as she does now, himself shining against this injustice with a noble heart, now silenced from human mortality. Her immortal darkness its flickering shadow and scion, solidified today.

There are others here that she'd not expected. The Seraph Clarine?! Of course. It was foolishness on the Shadow Seraph's part to hide it from her, to hope to spare her in her confusion this burden. But this is a plague of Lunar, brought here by those of the Silver Star, and whatever their personal troubles, that responsibility bears a weight greater than the personal. Clarine's bearing, so different from the fearful one Solanine experienced before, convinces her of the Light Seraph's resolve, and acceptance.

She looks to Ida and wishes her luck to complement her courage, as she walks besides Lanval and through the Trial Knight and Ragnell.

Listens to her call to another Seraphim who the Shadow Seraph knows not by face, but by name. The Seraph Beast, and listens her pained words to Ragnell. Solanine doesn't echo them, Beast speaks them on her behalf and asks the questions Solanine did not, but they echo in whatever place a Seraphim may call a heart - "Ragnell, is there no other way?" "You are my friend, but this I cannot allow."

With those words echoing within her, the Shadow Seraph draws her sword, and draws to it the Dark that shrouds and erupts upon its blade in black and poison bloom.

 (OST - "Law" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dg_uVEd-ApE )

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Ceimglace has posed.

Stuff had gone strange. That's the best way to put it - it's not that the place isn't strange, because it is, but it's that everything here is *strange*. Ceimglace feels strange standing here, almost like there's a sensation of time itself beating at her head, demanding that she give up that strange immortality that all Seraphs have. There's people here - people she recognizes, people she doesn't. The main level is beautiful.
 
 Raftina... Ceimglace isn't familiar with her - yet she likes it. However, there's a pathway. Flowing blue... it's warm. Ceimglace hums in the back of her throat. It reminds her of a warm summer day, possibly with Lanval at her side. However, the distroted, bruised colors ... those concern her. The purple... the black and brue: Ceimglace knows bruises when she sees them. She's been an apothecariast long enough.
 
 Following, her heart drops further and darker into the bottom of her stomach, until she nearly freezes. She doesn't want to keep going. The discordance, the malignance... Ceimglace shudders, and whispers someone's name - not really loud, not for anyone - but turn the corner she goes, and pauses. Her gaze falls from scepter, to orb, to knight, to-
 
 "... Ragamuffin?"
 
 Her voice quivers.

<Pose Tracker> K.K. has posed.

You two could give up you know.

"'Twas never an option. Think you it so simple? Then I shall ask the same of you.

"Give up. Walk away.

"Let your dying star burn."

The Trial Knight's first words come without hesitation or remorse. There is no regret. No doubt. There never has been. Even at their most heinous. There is nothing but that singular, noble way with which they carry themself.

That unfaltering and unwavering conviction in their every word. Daring those who come for them to answer in kind.

They remain unarmed, hands at their side, with the knowledge -- the truth -- that this will change very soon. They listen to those that assemble. Their unseen gaze is a presence in the weight of it as it falls on each person in turn, all with their own questions. Their own demands. Their own convictions.

Each one unique in their own way.

"..."

Fingers twitch. Their stare, unseen, falls on Clarine.

I am sorry we have not had the chance to have words.

And despite their typical posturing. Despite their typical harshness. Despite their typical mercilessness...

"Would that there were more time."

... these words are no less sincere than anything else they have said.

But what in the Guardian's green hell are you two trying to pull?

"An end. And a beginning. For your get or mine, it matters little."

... For as much as they are frustratingly vague just as often.

Their attention turns towards Beast, quietly thoughtful for a few, tentative moments of tense silence. Their words ring, imposing. Accusational. "Still you hide within your cage, thinking it a salvation and not a burden. It will afford you naught but cold comfort in the end." They step forward--

And it is only as Elvis provides his ultimatum that the Trial Knight turns. Their gaze follows from Jean and her question -- one unanswered by them, for it is Ragnell's place to answer to her desires -- to the imposing Veruni. Their head cants slowly.

"You yet understand ill."

And that is when Fei -rushes- in a torrent of motion that sees him joined by the Gwen's forward charge and Cyre's aggressive, wind-swept lunge in turn.

Love carries a sword...because a Love that won't get angry, that won't fight when those you care about are hurting...is a weak-ass love!!

Past them Fei blows, towards the gates. Presenting his middle-fingers in the process.

"Well said," they utter. Perhaps they misunderstand the gesture.

Perhaps they don't.

But those words are unfalteringly guileless.

Light pools at their palms. They begin to sweep to intercept those who attempt to charge past. The spiritual energies that ripple off them are 'immense'. The weight of their gaze falls on Talia.

"I know you, child."

And just as their hands fall down, seemingly empty --

... now I have my answer. Of what it is one must do if they truly love someone...

The Ley pulses.

The strength of that resonance is enough to momentarily distract K.K.; enough that Gwen's assault can strike true, sending them staggering a single step backwards -- distracting them long enough for both Fei and Talia to proceed past them.

I now... know how to proceed. I will lend my strength to these Drifters... to Filgaia.
              Not out of justice or retribution, for I see...

They hear the resolve, echoed through the Ley. The blue of the immense chamber glows with blinding, bolstering intensity. And the Trial Knight...

... laughs.

It is hard to tell. But even beyond the tinny warp of their helm, it is not a harsh thing. Even beyond the mask, it is not an unpleasant thing. It is warm.

It is pleased.

"... 'Tis a good answer, indeed. And one well earned."

Xantia makes her speech. Readies herself. And as the others charge through --

"Then I WOULD SEE IT!"

As Cyre's winds rush through them, they
                begin
                        to glow.

Light pools at their palms. The gold of their armor illuminates like winding veins of pure, gilded liquid pumping through that shell. They seem almost transient as that armor radiates a brilliant white.

"Take heed, Drifters, and carve these words into your very soul!"

As something forms within their grasp.

"You call me Trial Knight. You think I seek to stand as your judge. So be it."

Something immense.

"I am not your judge. I am not your Trial Knight."

Two blades of radiant white and gold form from light.

"I... am K.K. 'Tis the name of my truth. 'Tis the name of my heart. 'Tis the burden I gladly bear. And from the moment I took upon this mantle to the very last, I am your ADVERSARY."

And pressure BURSTS off of the knight, whipping the entire room like a torrent -- a massive, dual bladed greatsword -snapped- to their side as they glow with pure, white light.

"Today, I come at you with all that I am! If you are not prepared to do the same--"

And despite the warm, raw LIGHT of it all --

"--then let you fall into OBSCURITY, for there will be NO GODS HERE TO WEEP FOR YOUR PASSING!"

It is pure shadow energy, drawn straight from the very blessing of Althena, that SURGES from that blade as it strikes the blue of the Ley -- expanding outward into a tremendous, abyssal FISSURE of raw strength that rips through the foundation of this Ley-straddling sanctum. And the sanctum responds in kind, glowing brighter, warmer, as a word from a familiar Hyadean flows through the soul.

                                 Accession

"COME!"

                             O b j e c t i v e
                                  The End

                        Hold off K.K. and Ragnell!

DC: K.K. switches forms to The Adversary of Mankind!

DG: A party led by Ida Everstead-Rey is now entering Birth of a Wish ~ In The End.

=======================<* Birth of a Wish ~ In The End *>=======================
==================<* CHALLENGE - Remembrance of Things Past *>==================
|Type: Entry       |Dungeon Ability: Agility   |Challenge Rating: 1          | 
---------------------------< Challenge Information: >---------------------------
 It is light that draws you in.                                                
                                                                               
 It is darkness that waits you.                                                
                                                                               
 The space here seems far different than where you were. Larger inside than    
 out, like space had been folded in on itself into a neat knot of infinity,    
 the feel of the Ley's pulse has abandoned you. There is just the heartbeat    
 of a bullet, churning at the senses. And you are falling through it.          
                                                                               
 You land on something solid. Something that illuminates the dark. Something   
 that makes the new colors around you shift and change, dull and intensify,    
 like the glow of a television screen. You need only look down to see why:     
                                                                               
 You stand on a panel of glowing glass, reflecting something. Reflecting       
 memory. Events over the past several years, on Filgaia, on Lunar, dredged     
 across this shimmering surface.                                               
                                                                               
 Another panel appears, further away. More memories. Another. More. Triumphs.  
 Failures. Victories. Defeats. Each one must be leapt too, each traversed.     
                                                                               
 The past must be remembered to move on to the future, a twisting knot of      
 space that rests at the center of all this nothing, shining with a peculiar   
 radiance.                                                                     
                                                                               
 Dare you leap into it?                                                        
=Dungeon Conditions: Hesitate, Vault, Secret==================================

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Ragnell has posed.

        The Drifters pour in, Lanval--of all people--at the forefront, here to bear a message. Maybe he's in such a hurry because he's worried that someone might try to ust straight-up kill Ragnell and K.K. before he can pass it on. He's not wrong to, given how Catenna whips that crossbow around to take a shot, before pulling herself back. Ragnell eyes her, then raises her eyebrows at Lanval's passed-on message from Lydia.
        
        "Well, gosh, that's sweet o' her to say. I wonder if she was bein' sarcastic. Mmm... No, it's Lyds, I bet she meant it." She nods to herself decisively, then smiles at Lanval. "Thanks for passin' the word on, Lanv. If you get the chance, tell her I 'ppreciate the support."
        
        Whatever Lanval is doing in terms of 'looking,' Ragnell does nothing to stop him or block him. She is as she is, unapologetically. Case in point: when Clarine greets her, she gives her a curt nod, expression turning grim. "Clary. It's nice seein' you again, too," she replies. "Shame we couldn't'a reunited a few years ago at least, but what can you do? We're both here doin' what we believe in."
        
        She pauses as Lee steps in and suggests that she and K.K. give up on what they're doing. Her face screws up as if in intense thought, gloved hand clutching her chin; then she looks him dead in the eyes. "Nah."
        
        Fei steps up and conveys another message, this one from Riesenlied. Ragnell clucks her tongue, shaking her head slightly. "That's just like Riese. Well, that's just as well. It's real stressful watchin' her tear herself apart every time she gets on the battlefield, you know? I'm glad she didn't show." But Fei has his own thing to say, too. "Yeah?" He talks of a Love that carries a sword. Ragnell half-smiles, then laughs. "Well, what d'you know! Somethin' we agree on." Lemina chimes in, too, and Ragnell glances her way. "Mmm, that's right, you weren't there before, were you, Lem? Then I'll just say t'you know what I said then: I've been workin' for K.K. since before y'all were born." She half-shrugs, extending an arm. "Make o' that what you will."
        
        Josie asks what they're trying to pull. Ragnell fixes her a level look; then she shoots K.K. a glance. "I'll let you field that one, K'." While she and Josie have gotten along in the past, it's been a long time since they've hung out, and those few good times clearly mean nothing now. She's distracted when Talia calls to her, saying it's a shame to have to fight. Ragnell shrugs to her too. "Maybe so. It's not like I dislike you either, for a human. But--" Xantia catches her eye with a smile and a nod. Ragnell gives her a rueful half-smile and nod in return.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Ragnell has posed.

        Several people then dash for the gate: Catenna, Fei (with his double deuce whose meaning Ragnell doesn't know), Talia who doesn't want to fight her, and so on. "Sorry," Ragnell calls back to Talia even as she fires off a quick hail of gunshots trailing rapidly behind the group, about to catch up in seconds. "But don't lie to yourself, Talia: a fight's happenin' no matter what."
        
        But they're too quick, and there's too many distractions, and also Elly puts up a big fuck-off ice wall for defense; they make it through before Ragnell's able to land any significant bullets. She makes a low 'tch' noise, twin pistols in hand, and then looks back at the crowd. In particular, she looks at Beast, who pleads for her understanding, Solanine, who appeals to friendship without understanding, and Jean, who understands in return. Ragnell gives each both a slight, but genuine, smile. "You know it, Jean. You had me pegged from the start." She winks and flashes a broad grin. "So t' speak~. But you're right." She nods to Beast and Solanine. "We can all only do what we think is right. So do whatever it is you believe you need to do, an' I'll do the same. I ain't gonna hold it against you."
        
        She chuckles over at Cyre, too. Yeah, he's got the right idea. It's not that she looks down on those who don't want to fight--but some things are inevitable. She won't back down, K.K. won't either, and neither will any of them. So when he unleashes himself in a forward whirlwind charge, she accepts his attack head-on. A blast of air BOOMS out between them as he forces her back, drawling his lines as he pushes HARD, forcing her almost into the roiling Malevolence.
        
        And then the Ley pulses.
        
        As the dust settles, one can see Ragnell's outline, curled to one side... then she cricks her head up, red eyes rolling towards Cyre as she grins broadly, as K.K. laughs.
        
        "Feel better, then?" she drawls back, before lifting a leg and viciously kicking at his midsection repeatedly, first just to be an asshole, then to attempt to knock *him* back. She strides forth either way, and laughs at Gwen's remark while disregarding Elvis and his roaring ultimatum. "This is better'n a spar, anyway. Way more thrilling," she drawls. She grins over at K.K., at their declaration of war against the assembled Drifters, as they call upon greater and greater strength. She, too, laughs, and then bares her teeth at those who would stop them. "So yeah, sorry, y'all, but it's go time!"

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Ragnell has posed.

        Bad timing for Ceimglace. She whispers a nickname for Ragnell, but the Lightning Seraph has already committed to combat, and she can only shoot her the briefest of sharp glances. Looks like she didn't get a chance to get the bulletin beforehand... but that's not going to stop Ragnell, either. She fires several lightning shots from her twin pistols into the air--a move that might seem odd until they return to earth in the form of a torrential downpour that allows lightning to skate aggressively all along the needle-sharp rain, from Lanval to Beast to Lemina to Jean.
        
        Then a Seraphic glyph forms at her feet, and a crackling spear forms next to her an instant before she calls, "Shock Lancer!" The horizontal lightning bolt shoots forward towards Solanine, and the instant it's loosed, Ragnell whirls around and sights on Clarine, leaping backwards away from the seething Malevolence and unleashing an unrelenting, successive torrent of electric bullets on the Light Seraph in a bid to force her further away across the room.

GS: K.K. has activated a Force Action!
GS: K.K. has attacked Elvis with Abyss Divider!
GS: K.K. has attacked Gwen Whitlock with Abyss Divider!
GS: K.K. has attacked Seraph Ceimglace with Abyss Divider!
GS: K.K. has attacked Xantia with Abyss Divider!
GS: K.K. has gained 1 Combo!
GS: K.K. has attacked Chime Isa with Abyss Divider!
GS: K.K. has completed their action.
GS: Seraph Ragnell has activated a Force Action!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has attacked Cyre H. Lorentz with Pummel Kick!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has gained 3 Combo!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has attacked Seraph Lanval with Storm Shot!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has attacked Seraph Beast with Storm Shot!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has attacked Lemina Ausa with Storm Shot!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has attacked Jean with Storm Shot!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has attacked Seraph Clarine with Shock Lancer!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has gained 2 Combo!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has attacked Seraph Solanine with Cessive Bullet!
GS: CRITICAL! Cyre H. Lorentz takes a glancing hit from Seraph Ragnell's Pummel Kick for 66 hit points!
GS: Hyper! Statuses applied to Seraph Ragnell!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has completed her action.
GS: Chime Isa takes a glancing hit from K.K.'s Abyss Divider for 101 hit points!
GS: Riposte! Statuses applied to K.K.!
GS: CRITICAL! Seraph Clarine critically Guards a hit from Seraph Ragnell's Shock Lancer for 35 hit points!
GS: Hyper! Statuses applied to Seraph Ragnell!
GS: Seraph Clarine has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has lost 1 Combo!
GS: Seraph Beast guards a hit from Seraph Ragnell's Storm Shot for 84 hit points!
GS: Mighty! Statuses applied to Seraph Ragnell!
GS: Lemina Ausa critically Guards a hit from Seraph Ragnell's Storm Shot for 27 hit points!
GS: Mighty! Statuses applied to Seraph Ragnell!
GS: Lemina Ausa has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has lost 1 Combo!
GS: Elvis critically Guards a hit from K.K.'s Abyss Divider for 32 hit points!
GS: Riposte! Statuses applied to K.K.!
GS: Elvis has gained 1 Combo!
GS: K.K. has lost 1 Combo!
GS: Xantia takes a solid hit from K.K.'s Abyss Divider for 179 hit points!
GS: Riposte! Statuses applied to K.K.!
GS: Seraph Lanval takes a glancing hit from Seraph Ragnell's Storm Shot for 68 hit points!
GS: Mighty! Statuses applied to Seraph Ragnell!
GS: Lee Knight has attacked K.K. with Crusher!
GS: Lee Knight has completed his action.
GS: Jean has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has lost 1 Combo!

DC: MISS! Jean completely evades Storm Shot from Seraph Ragnell!

GS: Seraph Solanine critically Guards a hit from Seraph Ragnell's Cessive Bullet for 34 hit points!
GS: Seraph Solanine has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has lost 1 Combo!
GS: Gwen Whitlock guards a hit from K.K.'s Abyss Divider for 116 hit points!
GS: Riposte! Statuses applied to K.K.!

<Pose Tracker> Lee Knight has posed.

        Lee is almost knocked off his feet from the sheer intensity of what all is going down. It's massive. These are the epic forces that shape the world. Shape the reality they live in. Gritting his teeth even as he regains his balance, Lee shakes his head a little.
        "You're right. Why not me. Same question. Same answer. But, hey. Someone said it." Lee sneaks a glance at those around him, eyes narrowed in contemplation and then he'd move.
        The massive man in a suit of armor. Platemail no less. Is something that can have a tendancy to be demolished with the proper hammer strikes. Lee may or may not be the one that moves first, but he is definitely going to be one of those who try to get in there first. Massive boulder and all, his focus is quite specific as he comes in with that hard swing, seeking to smash into the hand or arm on KK's right side. A crushing blow that any who know him would know how it will impact. But as always.. he has to hit first.
        Even after that strike would try to hit, Lee would plant the boulder and use it to launch himself backwards, getting out of the way of undoubtably what would be bigger impacts, bigger hits coming. A single opening? A single moment to slow them down? Maybe. Just maybe. Lee sets at the back of the group, watching for those who may need a reprive and would use that boulder to help shield them, help people get to their feet. Sometimes, it's good to have someone ready with a hand, rather than focused just on that end.

<Pose Tracker> Ida Everstead-Rey has posed.

        "Ready?" Ida asks, glancing over her shoulder at the others--as if they could be ready. As if anyone could. Her heart hammers against her ribs. Behind her, the Ley flares, and a familiar presence flares with it.

        K.K., in turn, unleashes the power that Ida knew they were holding back--the power she tasted at Castle Rabenstein.

        'I am not your judge.'

        Ida steps forwards. Reality warps around her, as though she'd pierced the skin of a soap bubble, and were now looking at her own reflection on the other side. She sees Fei, and Elly, and Talia, and Josephine, and Catenna, and behind them, the Trial Knight.

        'I am not your Trial Knight.'

        Darkness closes in. "Fei!" Ida shouts. "Elly! Everyone!" There is terror in her voice. She feels herself falling. The Ley is gone, leaving only the sickening pulse of the Anomalous Orb. For a few, terrifying moments, Ida is alone, in darkness so thick it could choke out the rest of the world.

        Her feet land on solid ground. The impact jolts her back to awareness, and the darkness flees her senses. Gasping for breath, she glances around, sees the shape of what they're standing on. It's a glass panel. Ida sees herself in it, in a hotel room in Lacour; she's bundled up in blankets, trembling before the presence in front of her. The Trial Knight reaches for her with taloned fingers--

        And then is gone.

        Ida takes a moment to catch her breath. Her right arm has warped into something more openly draconic, but she still feels the tension of the tendril-filaments inside. "The only way out," Ida says, "is through." She reaches out her arm, clenches taloned fingers. The tendril fires from the back of her wrist, latches on to the next platform. She waits for passengers a moment before reeling herself in.

<Pose Tracker> Ida Everstead-Rey has posed.

        "Ready?" Ida asks, glancing over her shoulder at the others--as if they could be ready. As if anyone could. Her heart hammers against her ribs. Behind her, the Ley flares, and a familiar presence flares with it.

        K.K., in turn, unleashes the power that Ida knew they were holding back--the power she tasted at Castle Rabenstein.

        'I am not your judge.'

        Ida steps forwards. Reality warps around her, as though she'd pierced the skin of a soap bubble, and were now looking at her own reflection on the other side. She sees Fei, and Elly, and Talia, and Josephine, and Catenna, and behind them, the Trial Knight.

        'I am not your Trial Knight.'

        Darkness closes in.

        INSIDE THE WARDS

        "Fei!" Ida shouts. "Elly! Everyone!" There is terror in Ida's voice. She feels herself falling. The Ley is gone, leaving only the sickening pulse of the Anomalous Orb. For a few, terrifying moments, Ida is alone, in darkness so thick it could choke out the rest of the world.

        Her feet land on solid ground. The impact jolts her back to awareness, and the darkness flees her senses. Gasping for breath, she glances around, sees the shape of what they're standing on. It's a glass panel. Ida sees herself in it, in a hotel room in Lacour; she's bundled up in blankets, trembling before the presence in front of her. The Trial Knight reaches for her with taloned fingers--

        And then is gone.

        Ida takes a moment to catch her breath. Her right arm has warped into something more openly draconic, but she still feels the tension of the tendril-filaments inside. "The only way out," Ida says, "is through." She reaches out her arm, clenches taloned fingers. The tendril fires from the back of her wrist, latches on to the next platform. She waits for passengers a moment before reeling herself in.

DG: Ida Everstead-Rey has used her Tool Line Launcher toward her party's challenge, Remembrance of Things Past.

<Pose Tracker> Talia has posed.

"Well, I'd rather not put it so gravely, no? But you are probably right," Talia says to Ida, her head cocked and a lopsided grin on her lips. The grin does not last; Talia looks over her shoulder, and back at Ragnell. Her eyes are on her for a moment, until the ice wall nearly separates them completely. Ragnell likes her?

She feels a little sick, thinking of it. "You, too. If we all survive, we should talk more. I am sorry we didn't before, no? But--you are right. There will be a fight." One that, she hopes, she has to get through quickly.

Stop K.K. Stop the Trial Knight. Save Filgaia. All before Ammy's sister risks death or worse. It's enough to make her laugh until she wants to cry.

The light of the opening gate draws her in. It shines, brilliantly, across Talia's features; washing pale skin, red eyes, and black hair out until they are halfway to grey scale. Talia turns, and then she starts walking towards the opened gate -- into an opened space, with Mirage dangling from her fingertips. She glances sideways, to Fei and Elly, as she enters. Then she flashes a smile.

"You know, I think this is a little better than the time we started a fire in a library, no?" she asks. "Only a little, this thing is absolutely terrifying."

Another step, and the light ensconces her absolutely.

She lands on a crystalline panel. Talia's feet touch down, and she looks to see an image she knows well -- a boar, spikes of rock and stone jutting from torn flesh, that pitches her across a battlefield. A failure. Her jaw tenses, as the light becomes sensible -- as she can see, clearly. She looks ahead, then. Her eyes widen, as she spots the next panel.

Talia swallows, and leaps. She slams down onto the next one. Her feet skid over crystal; in it, she sees the reflection of a green plume of fire screaming up into the skies over Lastonbell. Talia's jaw sets, before she runs -- slams down onto another panel.

This one, she stands before a man who looks not unlike her; her head snaps to the side when the back of his hand smashes into her cheek.

She swallows, then looks ahead. Her jaw's clenching tighter. "...Through," she says. "Come on. Let's hurry."

DG: Talia has contributed a Agility Basic Action toward her party's challenge, Remembrance of Things Past.

<Pose Tracker> Fei Fong Wong has posed.

Honestly, hearing that Ragnell agrees with him, hell--K.K agrees with him--honestly isn't the best feeling. It's not because he hates them so much that agreeing with them makes him sick to the stomach. Rather, it's the knowledge that if you agree with someone enough then maybe you would be doing the same thing if you were in their shoes, or if you had slightly different experiences.

It's not a great feeling knowing that you too could try to destroy a world and only force would stop you.

But maybe it also means if K.K and Ragnell has slightly different experiences, maybe they'd be close friends. Naturally, this doesn't make Fei feel any better either. Sometimes you can't really smile too much about the fight you're in and even the happy outcome is a sad one.

And then...

INSIDE THE WARDS

Fei is falling. Fei has a non-plussed expression on his face indicating that he sort of figured something awful would happen the moment he jumped inside.

Fei's feet land.

He lands first on his meeting with Elly. She is pointing a gun at him. He smiles fondly at this memory because he's a little weird.

And then he jumps to the next. And the next. He pushes through memories of getting arrested, of getting beat up by a martial artist, of facing Grahf time and time again, of....losing Siegfried.

But there's other memories too. Eating burgers with Cecilia, meeting Emeralda, meeting Xantia with whom he has become so close he sees her as family, of Lanval and Leo and Lily who are all close friends--least in his own mind.

And...

...camping...

...camping with Elly. Looking up at the night sky. Making s'mores. Lazing around.

Talia reminds him of another memory.

"You know, stuff like this makes me miss the arson." Fei quips at Talia, when he--you know--can see her again.

DG: Fei Fong Wong has contributed a Agility Basic Action toward his party's challenge, Remembrance of Things Past.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Lanval has posed.

        Seraph Lanval doesn't stand alone. He can feel the gentle pulses of elemental power, the presence of his own kin. Of the Shadow Seraph Solanine, of the Ice Seraph Ceimglace, of the Light Seraph... well he knows she's a Light Seraph, of the Wind Seraph Beast. It wasn't all that long ago that virtually the entire Seraphim people saw his presence as a mark of great shame and worthy of ridicule. It only got worse when he was condemned across the entirety of the Goddess' land.
        They stand united in purpose, even in the sight of someone who is unsightly by a number of cultural aesthetic standards. Seraph Lanval does not look the part of a prospective savior of Filgaia, or a beacon of hope and renewal for both mortals and his own kidn alike. He looks the part of someone who should be lying face-down in a gutter somewhere.
        As Ragnell voices her thanks, she is given a "mmmmph" and a nod. If he gets the chance?
        "Way 'm sheein' it, gonna have all the chancesh in the world," for maybe the next fifty years or so depending on Lydia's lifespan, but, all the chances in the world within that finite span of time.
        That's all he gets to say as things happen.
        He doesn't flinch as shadowy power erupts from K.K. - it is no demerit to their incredible sense of purpose and the power that reflects it. It is because he is drinking through it, the only meditative technique he has that can keep him upright as it washes out through the field - but much more can be owed to Riesenlied's channeling of the Ley to strengthen it.
        Ragnell is fast, powerful - when he took that swing at her, he knows full well she could've struck him at least four times over in the span of time it took for her to lightning-teleport away from that. Like lightning, her power within an instant has few natural matches.
        Lanval sways and staggers, flowing like water. There is a grace to the way he moves, the way his manifestation seems to show a corpulent man blessed with the flexibility of an exceedingly talented contortionist, but Ragnell's lightning is fast. One dart of electricity from the sky is all that needs to hit to go through his foot, see him grimace and shudder, and have steam rise from his person.
        Water and Lightning, by their very natures, do not mix well with one another.
        The watery wastrel spins over once and flops over on his back, exhaling loudly as he looks up from the angle he does to watch as many of them - a devout shaman of Celesdue, a reformed Hellion, a man blessed and cursed with multiple mortal lifetimes of existence and memories, among others - move forth towards the Orb.
        "Ragnell," Lanval murmurs as he lies on his back which is... not a good look, at all, "all their timesh are gonna end... one day. I mean, you 'n me, we know that. That'sh jusht what it meansh ta be mortal." His eyes are still closed. His voice is punctuated with a yawn. "Mmmm... but ya can shee it now, can't ya. They ain't fightin' jusht 'caushe they fear the eeeennnnd..."
        ...He starts to snore off. Okay, great. Sleep in the middle of the end of the world, of course Lanval would do that...
        ...until watery energies coalesce around him, a Seraphic Arte he can cast in his sleep. A great bubble rises from his face, growing in size until it escapes and starts floating after Ragnell, slowly but surely. It's slow, but it's large, and with every movement Ragnell might take to confidently maneuver around the field, it's there. Pursuing. Waiting to pop in a great burst of watery power.
        "...Shleepy Bubble..."

GS: Seraph Lanval has attacked Seraph Ragnell with Sleepy Bubble!
GS: Seraph Lanval has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Seraph Lanval has completed his action.

<Pose Tracker> Jean has posed.

"...I thought so," Jean answers Ragnell, continuing to be an island of peace amidst a lot of righteous anger. It just... Isn't where she is, right now; it isn't where her mind or her heart require her to be. There are so many here, who could have been friends, or were friends, to Jean's mind--So even then...

K.K.--their nature revealed?--speaks of what they must know, and Jean recalls her own talk of love, at the altar. Jean understands shadow--shadow, carved into her very being, traced over every inch or her skin, embedded into her very spirit with the horrific rites of the Shadow Dragon and the blood she has spilled with her own hands. ...And her own Blessing, too. The fissure comes...

Lightning crashes down, and Jean bends at the knee before leaping backward, somersaulting through the air with all the grace her training has demanded. She lands, in a crouch--

"...So to speak," she agrees, and in that instant--maybe the last for a while--she will allow herself a smile. "You are who you are. I'll do what I have to, too..."

"But I can't, and I won't, fight you from a place of hate, Ragnell."

She rises, and the dark ki of the Shadow Dragon does not rise with her. It beckons, at the back of her mind, at her heart, and she does not call it forth. Instead, she takes in a breath--and lets the flow of the Ley gide her steps.

An unheard music echoes in her movements, fast steps first as she shifts forward, whirling, twirling closer to Ragnell. She does not adapt a battle stance--

She steps, steps, turns, steps, ducks, leaps, suddenly quickly, so quickly. It is a dance of heat, a dance of light--and one that weaves a magic with it, a shadow like a warm summer's night to ensnare and entangle. She gives no words, for now--she uses an older form of communication than that.

GS: Jean has attacked Seraph Ragnell with Bolero!
GS: Jean has gained 2 Combo!
GS: Jean has completed her action.

<Pose Tracker> Catenna has posed.

If nothing else, Cyre is there for her. It puts Catenna's heart at some semblance of ease - though getting there in this situation is difficult.

At least there's light.

Light that draws her in.

She can't see much else.

        Just
                a feeling
                        of light
                                and eternity
                        and memory.

There is a simple, innocuous click as Catenna's heels touch down on something she can just barely make out. The light clears away from her eyes. "Cyre," she says quietly, looking back towards where she thought the windman was.

She doesn't see anything. She can hear Ida shouting in the distance - but it's coming as though from a long, long way off. Like an echo in an enormous cavern of hazy memories. Or maybe not a cavern. An abyss of panels. Catenna opens her mouth a little and looks down.

        Into the familiar eyes of a small girl. She's dusky-skinned and dark-haired and no more than twelve. She's holding a tablet of stone in her hands and looking up towards a taller woman. A kindly smile can be seen.

        i grant you this blessing, not because you are my favourite
                not for the circumstances of your birth
                        but because
                                you of all of them
                        understand
                what it is "Please not this," Catenna whispers.
                that you must do

                                'but i don't know,' she hears herself speak
                        there are faces like hers
                sneering girls "This is the past," Catenna says quietly.
        sneering like they always do

Catenna lifts her eyes away from the old memory. Somewhere behind her breast, something aches.

<Are the emotions different this time?> asks the steady voice from her shoulder. Saarda-Shanta, not ruffled even in the midst of the wards put up by the Adversary. <That was a long time ago.>

Slipping her hand to her side, Catenna looks down at the object in it. It's silver and carries the emblem of the Moon Guardian upon it.

<You know that the Guardians do not distribute those out of pity or obscure Heritor traditions, of course> the Owlet adds with a cock of her head.

Catenna closes her eyes. Below her, she can see the taller woman's smile. A smile she always saw something in that would curse her with its kindness.

"Let's go," she says with surety, before breaking into a run and leaping off the glass tile to arc towards the one Ida's standing on.

DG: Catenna has contributed a Agility Basic Action toward her party's challenge, Remembrance of Things Past.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Clarine has posed.

Clarine is mindful of the humans gathered here - and the Seraphim, as well. They all make their intentions known. Her expression becomes concerned, just briefly.

One of the humans looks toward her - Lemina. Clarine looks back. She doesn't have any words, but she acknowledges the look with a brief, shy nod.

And to Solanine, the friend she had made...she sends her a nod, as well - one of resolution - before looking back to Ragnell and the Trial Knight.

She bows her head quietly once more at the Trial Knight's response.

"Yes..." She agrees. "This conversation... It will have to suffice for now."

The type of conversation that could only be had in battle - one not of words.

She looks toward Ragnell, then, offering her a nod.

"Yes...I would have liked that. If you had been the one to find me first..." She murmurs quietly, a question left unsaid. If Ragnell had been the one to find her vessel when it ended up here on Filgaia, where would she be? Would she be there, standing alongside K.K. and the Trial Knight?

She doesn't know. She doesn't dwell on it.

"I would...ask nothing less of you, Ragnell. As long as that remains true...I think I will be okay. Whatever happens..." She decides.

Another thing Ragnell says catches her attention, though - Clarine's eyes glance toward a woman she calls Talia.

Ammy's Talia? It's a shame they never met sooner. If they both survive, she'll have to try and meet with her...

But now, the Trial Knight - no, K.K., speaks. They make their declaration, and with a burst of pressure, a massive, dual-bladed greatsword forms from light.

Clarine recoils back, her mirrors rising to form a protective barrier. And Ragnell, too. She puts it succinctly - it's go time.

Clarine moves to put a little distance between herself and the two in front of her. Her eyes lock onto Ragnell, and her hands move quickly. A rapid torrent flies at her, and her mirrors shift to intercept them. Most of them are blocked, but a few manage to slip right through.

Her instincts...are a little dulled. She hadn't had a proper fight in ages...would she really be able to keep up with these two, who had likely seen countless battle after battle...?

She couldn't second-guess herself.

Instead, she calls her mirrors back. They begin to swirl as motes of light rise up from around her.

"Sacred servants...bestow your healing touch upon the weary. Nurse!" She recites. The motes form into three spheres bearing fluttering wings not unlike a fairy's, that fly around the room for a moment before descending, landing upon Gwen, Xantia, and Chime. Where they land, pain subsides and wounds slowly heal.

GS: Seraph Clarine has attacked Gwen Whitlock with Nurse!
GS: Seraph Clarine has attacked Xantia with Nurse!
GS: Seraph Clarine has attacked Chime Isa with Nurse!
GS: Seraph Clarine has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Seraph Clarine has completed her action.
Game> Gwen Whitlock just +fingered you!

<Pose Tracker> Elvis has posed.

Eyes squint as rage builds. "I know enough to understand the stakes. The equation is simple; you, plus that orb, equals a dead planet. The minute details of the equation in question pale in comparison to the scope of the result as-is."

"There are far more efficient uses of that power than this. But that is all it is to you. Power gleamed from the souls of man. And here you stand, in direct opposition to us. You act as though standing as the opposing force to counterbalance someone is all you can do."

"All you have ever known."

"...All you have ever been."

Speculations still run high on this character in the gleaming armor, but the picture is beginning to come together on this fellow. Reasons why they led people on. Reasons there were always a scaled choice to make at his presence. "Just who are you? Your nicknames mean little to me."

Once again a weapon of great magnitude is summoned by K.K., a greatsword roiling with darkened power. The power wreathing from it causes Elvis to stand resolute and brunt it. The man grits his teeth and stands against it, looking slightly worse than before once it passes. "Hah! Fitting you deem to use a blade after using one as a time-buying tool. But a tool is no more potent then the person behind it! I shall show you that conviction and character make the man! HAAAH!"

Ground spiders and cracks underneath the kinetic force of a heeled boot biting stone. The massive man flies at the Trial Knight with fist reared. He has broken blades and weapons before, many in his own service. How would this new weapon brought forth fare in defending its owner?

GS: Elvis enters CONDITION GREEN!!
GS: Elvis has attacked K.K. with Dire Haymaker!
GS: Elvis has entered a Reflect stance!
GS: Elvis has completed his action.

<Pose Tracker> Lemina Ausa has posed.

Elly gets a nod from the Premier of the Magic Guild. "Sure thing! Or, well, here's hoping?" She laughs a little. ... gosh, it's been a long time since she's been home. That feels real weird.

Lemina finds herself on the business end of Ragnell's guns, and she grimaces; she's ready for it, of course, throwing up a wall of ice before and above herself to disperse some of the force of the lightning and projectiles. A few chunks of ice hit her square-on in the face, but even so...

She lets out a long, slow sigh. She really doesn't like this. In fact, since she started out on her adventure more than two years ago now, this is probably the thing she likes the least, and Lemina 'Fussy' Ausa has encountered some real strong contenders for that title. "Ragnell..." A look of faint disgust starts to creep across her face.

"... well, fine," she eventually settles on. "I guess there's really nothing to say to this, huh...?" Her grip on her staff grows white-knuckled. "I guess I just have to -- do what I have to to stop you here."

Lemina slams her staff into the ground. "Dance for me, bright flames, in a crimson storm..." With a twirl of her staff, she calls out, "Flare Vortex!" A whirlwind of flame starts to spring up beneath Ragnell. At first, it looks like just about any garden-variety fire spell... but there's too much focus to the movement, too much purpose to the way it funnels up. Is that wind?

Lemina's grip tightens further. Jean won't fight from a place of hate -- but Lemina is struggling *not* to. ... at heart, she's still a teenager.

GS: Lemina Ausa has spent 3 Combo on Gatling, including 2 on Gatling!
GS: Lemina Ausa has attacked Seraph Ragnell with Flare Vortex!
GS: Lemina Ausa has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Lemina Ausa has completed her action.

<Pose Tracker> Chime Isa has posed.

        Chime grimaces as the fight begins, the initial strikes unleashed showing a high level of power. As the pressure, and then abyssal blade strike come out from the knight, Chime drops trying to slide under it and only partially succeeding as she still takes a glancing hit turning her slide into a short tumble. She comes up crossbows draw, a bright yellow and white bolt gleaming inside the body of both weapons the heads of those belts not looking like sharp or pointed weapons of harm but flat and rounded.

        "That was an interesting choice of words~ But for now I think none of us wish to fall into the abyss of the forgotten for now. So I suppose, we will stand and fight for what we also believe." as she aims her crossbows not at either K.K. or Ragnell but.. Her fellow drifters?!

        The bolts flash out, and on impact don't cause harm but seeming pass their energy into the target before vanishing, leaving every target hit moving with quicker reflexes. Chime herself smiles brightly with cheer as she clashes the crossbows together forcing a reload of the strange ARMs she wields causing the bolts in the body to change again.

GS: Seraph Clarine heals Chime Isa! She gains 100 temporary hit points!
GS: Seraph Ragnell takes a glancing hit from Seraph Lanval's Sleepy Bubble for 81 hit points!
GS: Chime Isa has activated a Force Action!
GS: CRITICAL! Seraph Ragnell takes a glancing hit from Jean's Bolero for 90 hit points!
GS: Cripple, Entangle, and Mute! Statuses applied to Seraph Ragnell!
GS: Seraph Ragnell takes a glancing hit from Lemina Ausa's Flare Vortex for 103 hit points!
GS: Disrupt! Statuses applied to Seraph Ragnell!
GS: Chime Isa has attacked Chime Isa with Quick Bolt!
GS: Chime Isa has attacked Seraph Lanval with Quick Bolt!
GS: Chime Isa has attacked Xantia with Quick Bolt!
GS: Chime Isa has attacked Cyre H. Lorentz with Quick Bolt!
GS: Chime Isa has attacked Jean with Quick Bolt!
GS: Chime Isa has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Chime Isa has completed her action.
GS: K.K. critically Guards a hit from Elvis's Dire Haymaker for 21 hit points!
GS: K.K. has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Elvis has lost 1 Combo!

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Beast has posed.

        'The only way out is through,' says Ida, and the Beast of Lohgrin calls in reply: "I - I understand!" There is a wavering to her voice which suggests that perhaps she does not; or, perhaps, it is the pressure of Malevolence upon her. Surely she is not the only Seraphim who feels it. There are so many gathered here, with Lanval, though she does not know them all. She can only pray to Althena that there will be another day after this, another opportunity to meet them, to speak with her people.

        Certainly, Ragnell believes the same as Ida, and it is with sadness that she lowers her curled claw to the ground again. She does not know all of why Ragnell thinks this is right; she knows only that she is sure it is wrong. An iron mask cannot reflect grief or sorrow. Her voice can. "Oh, Ragnell..."

        It is that very lack of visual expression the Trial Knight criticises, and hollow eyes lift to meet ones hidden beneath armor. "Would it suit your purposes were I to expose myself in this environment?" She asks, and there is a lance of bitterness to it. "Yes, I fain cage myself against the ill purpose of Malevolence!" In her anger she betrays her fear, and does not speak of the efforts she has made.

        She is thankful, silently, that Ragnell does not speak of them either.

        They say they are not their Trial Knight, but their adversary, and the Beast, at least, is happy to oblige the shift in perspective. Unlike Ragnell, she has little love lost for them; it is easy to fit the being called K.K. into an adverserial role. But Ragnell - Ragnell, her friend - this is so much more difficult a shift. The lightning shoots up, rains down, and even with all her speed it is all she can do to lock her plates together against it. Metal conducts electrcity: it arcs down, crackles through.

        It charges the air, and perhaps this hurts most of all, because iron is not flesh and she has no blood to bleed.

        She does not wish to fight her.

        If she does not fight her, Filgaia is forfeit.

        "I am sorry," says the Beast, as she charges forward to crush upper and lower headplates down on gun-bearing wrist in a crushing metal bite.

GS: Chime Isa takes a solid hit from Chime Isa's Quick Bolt for 0 hit points!
GS: Quick! Statuses applied to Chime Isa!
GS: Seraph Clarine heals Gwen Whitlock! She gains 100 temporary hit points!
GS: Cyre H. Lorentz takes a solid hit from Chime Isa's Quick Bolt for 0 hit points!
GS: Quick! Statuses applied to Cyre H. Lorentz!
GS: Seraph Beast has attacked Seraph Ragnell with Stubborn Bite!
GS: Seraph Beast has completed her action.
GS: Seraph Ragnell takes a solid hit from Seraph Beast's Stubborn Bite for 73 hit points!
GS: Cover! Statuses applied to Seraph Beast!

<Pose Tracker> Josephine Lovelace has posed.

        "Might take you up on that, maybe," she'd said to Elvis, just moments before.

        Here, back in the now and present, she stands alongside the cannon. Strides past it, nearly to the lip of distorted space. "Too bad," Josie remarks in apparent agreement to Ragnell. Probably, they would have gotten on famously, once.

        "So that's it. That's your explanation."

        She takes another long drag, her gaze heavy-lidded. "Like I said, it doesn't matter. It's all the same to me..."

        Perhaps its's in this moment that she sights Talia -- Ida -- Fei -- Elly. Catenna.
        Something to her gaze shifts.
        And she takes one more step forward.

        The lit cigarette is flicked up into the air. There it dances end over end, hanging in the air, one end a dull cherry glow.

        There's no organization to it, no agreed-upon plan. Nothing more than

        making a sudden, impulsive decision

        "Elvis! If this gets lost, you owe me at least two bottles of Gounon's finest!"

        the way she so often does.

        Because you would have.

DG: Josephine Lovelace has contributed a Agility Basic Action toward her party's challenge, Remembrance of Things Past.
DG: Elhaym van Houten has used her Tool Expedition Boots toward her party's challenge, Remembrance of Things Past.

<Pose Tracker> Cyre H. Lorentz has posed.

Blinding light and waves of cataclysmic alike hammer into the manifest Guardian, but at the moment those are only distractions. Even as the ground splits apart, and the sanctuary of the Guardian Lord thrums ever stronger as if to try and defy the pus of humanity seeping slowly into it, Cyre is occupied with something perhaps more... mundane.

Ragnell...

Just straight up kicked a tiger in the chest. It's a vicious blow, a tremendous, thunderous impact. And perhaps to her surprise, it doesn't take more than the first to send him flying back. But...

There's a look on his face that suggests it wasn't entirely unintentional.

The wind tiger twists back upon itself, feline agility and hurricane speeds combining to allow him to bend deftly out of the way. Still, the first impact was felt dearly, and the wind-avatar seems to hesitate for a moment before it resumes its assault.

"You should know the answer to that question," Cyre responds. Chime's bolt connects, spreading out in arcing currents that spiderweb across his back and shoulders. "Whatever this is about, this is our world, our home. That first punch was just for me. This...!"

He charges back in, heedless of possible reprisals. Bestial limbs strike at unthinkable speeds, the wind tiger darting in and out in a series of furious, hypersonic charges. "This is for Filgaia!"

And...

For someone else's sake, too.

There's someone beyond these two-- someone counting on him to last as long as he possibly can!

GS: Cyre H. Lorentz has attacked Seraph Ragnell with Tiger Breaker!
GS: Cyre H. Lorentz has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Cyre H. Lorentz has completed his action.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Ceimglace has posed.

 Ceimglace and Ragnell share a look. It's that look that makes Ceimglace realize she really perhaps stop believing in everyone, possibly even herself, because boy, she probably should have picked up on this giant bulletin ages ago, possibly because it's a giant, lightning bolt of a neon sign. However, her gaze slides slightly to another dearest heart.
 
 "I-- hey, No, Lanval, wake up."
 
 Water Seraphs... she lifts an eyebrow as she watches the bubble. She'd kill someone trying that with an ice bubble. However, her fingers twitch delicately, grasping for a second like she was holding a drumstick - but no, that's an icicle. It's not as deadly shaped as she could make it-
 
 And to be frank, her throw is deliberate to miss, but as with all Seraphs, her skills with her Artes are ingrained in her bones.
 
 "Why?"

GS: Seraph Ceimglace takes a solid hit from K.K.'s Abyss Divider for 207 hit points!
GS: Riposte! Statuses applied to K.K.!

<Pose Tracker> Talia has posed.

"It does, doesn't it?" Talia asks back of Fei. She looks down at another crystalline platform -- and this one has a happier memory looking up. Two young children, black-haired, cheering as they stand atop the rooftop of some massive manor house. She smiles a little more at that.

"How did we end up here?" she says, as she lands on another one. Her tone becomes less wistful, and more sincere. She glances at Josephine -- and there is a quick nod of her head. "Ah, well... what was it you said, Fei? A sword of love?"

Talia cracks a little smile. "...Love is a good reason to do this, no?" Then, she takes a couple of quick hops -- she bounds off an image of home aflame, trying to not look, and then another of two children that look so much alike, and laughing so hard.

And then, with a last leap, Talia comes down for the shining, golden light that leads them onward.

GS: Seraph Ragnell takes a solid hit from Cyre H. Lorentz's Tiger Breaker for 170 hit points!
GS: Seraph Clarine heals Xantia! She gains 100 temporary hit points!
GS: Xantia takes a solid hit from Chime Isa's Quick Bolt for 0 hit points!
GS: Quick! Statuses applied to Xantia!
GS: Jean takes a solid hit from Chime Isa's Quick Bolt for 0 hit points!
GS: Quick! Statuses applied to Jean!

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Ceimglace has posed.

 There's the sensation of Althena - of something that Ceimglace feels whenever she grabs her own Artes and uses them. It makes Ceimglace twitch, and she whirls to face K.K. from Ragnell, right as the fissure rips through the room, knocking Ceimglace not only off her feet but into the wall. The gasp that escapes her is real - 'immortal' they might be, but hurt, they still take. She pushes herself to her feet, staggering, her gaze drifting across the room, to -
 
 Ceimglace and Ragnell share a look. It's that look that makes Ceimglace realize she really perhaps stop believing in everyone, possibly even herself, because boy, she probably should have picked up on this giant bulletin ages ago, possibly because it's a giant, lightning bolt of a neon sign. However, her gaze slides slightly to another dearest heart.
 
 "I-- hey, No, Lanval, wake up."
 
 Water Seraphs... she lifts an eyebrow as she watches the bubble. She'd kill someone trying that with an ice bubble. However, her fingers twitch delicately, grasping for a second like she was holding a drumstick - but no, that's an icicle. It's not as deadly shaped as she could make it-
 
 And to be frank, her throw is deliberate to miss, but as with all Seraphs, her skills with her Artes are ingrained in her bones.
 
 "Why?"

GS: Seraph Ceimglace has attacked Seraph Ragnell with Thrown Icicle!
GS: Seraph Ceimglace has completed her action.

<Pose Tracker> Xantia has posed.

Xantia's smile broadens when K.K. basically replies that he wants her to put her fists where her mouth is. "That's the plan," she says mostly to herself, her hands curling into fists as she assumes a fighting stance. Though it takes every ounce of her patience, she is resolved to wait until there is an attack of some sort, so she can act to make sure that the advance party can make it through unscathed.

It may be a tiny bit foolhardy to still go ahead with the plan to dash forward into K.K.'s path when all the signs are there that that something big and terrible is about to happen. But foolhardy is Xantia's middle name, so that's exactly what she does. Her charge is stopped cold by the massive burst of energy that she ran directly at, effortlessly carrying her off her feet and sending her spinning backwards, to land flat on her face.

Well. At least that removes any doubts of how serious they are. Not that Xantia ever doubted that.

Picking herself up takes her a moment, but she looks no less resolute than she did before. No one can afford that when the planet is at stake. All you can do is give it everything you have. It's the same as when they faced Mother.

The same, except for one thing. There's no need for this to be a battle to the death. What matters is the Orb. She just has to do what she does best, while the others take care of the direct threat to all of Filgaia. That matter should be in good hands. Her mind can't help but single out one particular set of hands. "...Good luck, brother."

Of course, knowing this doesn't mean that Xantia will fight with any less than all she has, of course. And so she charges. Activating her ARM, a red blade springs to life from the bracer on her right arm. Usually, it would be dagger-sized. For this, she must have thought that wouldn't suffice, because the blade continues to grow beyond that.

By the time she comes within range of K.K., it has grown to a size not quite a match for a greatsword, but certainly more suitable for standing against one. Her weapon is made out of energy however - weightless - allowing her to swing with great, unencumbered speed to clash with the knight's weapon, aided by both a healing and quickening force from two of her allies.

"It won't be like last time," she hisses between her teeth. Last time, when the encounter left her with a nasty wound in her abdomen. "I don't suppose you're going to explain why you'd go this far? ...In simple words? Just 'being an enemy' is not a very good reason for destroying a whole planet."

GS: Xantia has attacked K.K. with Crimson Flash!
GS: Xantia has completed her action.
GS: Seraph Ragnell takes a solid hit from Seraph Ceimglace's Thrown Icicle for 82 hit points!

=======================<* Birth of a Wish ~ In The End *>=======================
==================<* CHALLENGE - Remembrance of Things Past *>==================
|Type: Entry       |Dungeon Ability: Agility   |Challenge Rating: 1          | 
---------------------------< Challenge Information: >---------------------------
 It is light that draws you in.                                                
                                                                               
 It is darkness that waits you.                                                
                                                                               
 The space here seems far different than where you were. Larger inside than    
 out, like space had been folded in on itself into a neat knot of infinity,    
 the feel of the Ley's pulse has abandoned you. There is just the heartbeat    
 of a bullet, churning at the senses. And you are falling through it.          
                                                                               
 You land on something solid. Something that illuminates the dark. Something   
 that makes the new colors around you shift and change, dull and intensify,    
 like the glow of a television screen. You need only look down to see why:     
                                                                               
 You stand on a panel of glowing glass, reflecting something. Reflecting       
 memory. Events over the past several years, on Filgaia, on Lunar, dredged     
 across this shimmering surface.                                               
                                                                               
 Another panel appears, further away. More memories. Another. More. Triumphs.  
 Failures. Victories. Defeats. Each one must be leapt too, each traversed.     
                                                                               
 The past must be remembered to move on to the future, a twisting knot of      
 space that rests at the center of all this nothing, shining with a peculiar   
 radiance.                                                                     
                                                                               
 Dare you leap into it?                                                        
=Dungeon Conditions: Hesitate, Vault, Secret==================================

==================<* Birth of a Wish ~ In The End - Round 1 *>==================
====================< Results - Remembrance of Things Past >====================
Player                               Exhaustion                      Pass/Fail
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ida Everstead-Rey                   0 --(0)--> 0                   Pass
Line Launcher                       2   Agility Effects: Quicken              
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Catenna                             0 --(0)--> 0                   Pass
Rush                                0   Agility Effects: BASIC                
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Josephine Lovelace                  0 --(0)--> 0                   Pass
Rush                                0   Agility Effects: BASIC                
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Talia                               0 --(0)--> 0                   Pass
Rush                                0   Agility Effects: BASIC                
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Fei Fong Wong                       0 --(0)--> 0                   Fail
Rush                                0   Agility Effects: BASIC                
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Elhaym van Houten                   0 --(0)--> 0                   Pass
Expedition Boots                    2   Agility Effects: Stalwart             
-----------------------------------< Party >------------------------------------
Leader: Ida Everstead-Rey           0 --(30)--> 30                 Pass
Conditions: Hesitate(2)|Secret(2)|Vault(1)
Effects: Quicken(1)
===============================< Dream Chasers >================================

DG: The party led by Ida Everstead-Rey has passed this challenge! The party gained 30 exploration! If anyone needs to
use party management commands, do so now. Otherwise, the next round's GM may begin the next round with +dungeon/draw.

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

        Gwen gives a warm smile to Ragnell, and slowly nods, rubbing her eyes against her left sleeve. "I wouldn't want ya t'half-ass this just because y'feel sorry for me or someone else. I'll do my best n' try to keep up."

        'I... am K.K. 'Tis the name of my truth.'

        ".... Glad I finally got your name," Gwen says, with a laugh. Well, it's half true. Ragnell had let the name slip before, in that last bonfire meeting.

        Whatever words Gwen had die on her lips as the knight summons a wave of force, blowing the courier ass over teakettle. "Gh... They weren't lyin..." Gwen mumbles to herself, righting herself in order to sit up.
        
        Clarine's healing magic gives Gwen the needed boost to stand up, thankfully, allowing the redhead to stand up fully, running a hand through her curly hair.
        
        "Well, if we're doin' proper introductions, then..." Her body hunches over, her right ARM extending slightly behind her as the build-up of energy begins to condense into her ARM. Silver plates pulse with the beat of her hidden heart, the pyrite yellow energy causing the hairs of her head to begin to raise.

        "My name is Gwen Whitlock, super courier. I was meant to die, but I rose again through the actions of others. And because of that, I get to see the world, in both its good and bad sides."

         Extending her hand outwards, Gwen splays the fingers of her right hand open, summoning a growing ball of electric energy.

        "This is my truth! I love this imperfect, beautiful world and those in it, and if I I fail here while fighting for it, then I need no tears, because that's enough for me right there!"

         Then, with a grunt, she waves her hand away, expanding the field to encompass both her friend Ragnell and the Trial Knight K.K..

        "St. Elmo's Fire!"

GS: Gwen Whitlock has attacked Seraph Ragnell with St. Elmo's Fire!
GS: Gwen Whitlock has attacked K.K. with St. Elmo's Fire!
GS: Gwen Whitlock has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Gwen Whitlock has completed her action.

<Pose Tracker> Ida Everstead-Rey has posed.

        Ida clambers atop a platform, hauling herself to her feet. Beneath her, a younger version of herself stands before a chalkboard in a classroom. Two children stand behind her, holding a bin of garbage between them. They raise the bin, tip it over onto her--

        --A red-headed man struggles to get up, struggles and fails. He curls up, twisting into a fetal position; quicksilver streams down his forehead, pooling on the ground beneath him--

        Ida is already leaping to the next platform. She doesn't see it. Beneath her, a younger version of herself sits at a table in the servants' wing with a girl about her age--a Beastwoman. An older Beastwoman with woolly hair and curling horns carries a tray of fresh-baked biscuits.

        More platforms. Her first kiss--with Kalve, in the cockpit of her Gear. Her graduation. Fei and Elly dragging her out of Luisa Rey's tomb, in agony as Hyadean tissue twisted itself into her body.

        The only way out is through. There are a few missteps, but the group reunites on the other side of the platforms, in one piece.

GS: K.K. takes a glancing hit from Xantia's Crimson Flash for 33 hit points!
GS: Riposte! Statuses applied to Xantia!
GS: CRITICAL! K.K. takes a solid hit from Gwen Whitlock's St. Elmo's Fire for 51 hit points!
GS: Jam and Jam! Statuses applied to K.K.!
GS: Hyper! Statuses applied to Gwen Whitlock!

DG: Josephine Lovelace has drawn a new Challenge.

=======================<* Birth of a Wish ~ In The End *>=======================
====================<* CHALLENGE - The Dissent That Dooms *>====================
|Type: Exploration |Dungeon Ability: Combat    |Challenge Rating: 2          | 
---------------------------< Challenge Information: >---------------------------
     "You have become obsolete. Your existence is no longer necessary."        
                                                                               
 A splintering shriek of metal.                                                
                                                                               
 An ionized crackle.                                                           
                                                                               
 The scent of iron in the air.                                                 
                                                                               
 You are at the very top of the Photosphere's exterior. A Photosphere          
 currently in a dire state of collapse without the supporting presence of its  
 Mother to hold it aloft. There are ships dotting the sky. Ships, and Gears,   
 of strange and advanced make. Gebler make.                                    
                                                                               
 So many. So many more than there were that day. The Tzadkiel shines in the    
 sky, untarnished, still in tact.                                              
                                                                               
 But the Quarter Knight Siegfried lies frozen on the collapsing floor of the   
 Photosphere, lifeless.                                                        
                                                                               
 It is a tableau not entirely frozen, however; soon, Gebler's agents are upon  
 you, distorting and twisting in brief static-y bursts into transient,         
 non-euclidean shapes between the pulse, pulse, pulse that churns through      
 this world. They fight. They are dealt with. More come. They fight. They are  
 dealt with.                                                                   
                                                                               
 More come.                                                                    
                                                                               
 The armada of Solaris seems endless in its wrath. If the knot binding this    
 place is not found and unmade, they may never end. The Photosphere groans in  
 its ending throes. The Tzadkiel seems to all but glow with peculiar           
 radiance.                                                                     
                                                                               
 Can you make it past?                                                         
                                                                               
 Or are you doomed to lose yet more friends to the inevitable?                 
=Dungeon Conditions: Overwhelm, Vault=========================================

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Solanine has posed.

"We can all only do what we think is right. So do whatever it is you believe you need to do, an' I'll do the same. I ain't gonna hold it against you."

The Seraph Ragnell's words reach Solanine with an intensity and certainty equal to the lightning headed her way, In response to both words and deed, The Shadow Seraph stands her ground in her darkness. The lightning bolt hits her solidly in the chestplate, but after the flash of contact, and the static of the electricity arcs itself down and off of her armored form, Solanine stands as she was, resolute, her armor, her power, and her heart withstanding, not without wear, the first violence from her friend. The moment she feared most had passed, and with Ragnell's words she can do what she thinks is right, without hesitation.

 She clears and focuses her mind, temporarily putting out of mind the others around her, and rushes forward to riposte the Seraph of Lightning with a cleave of her greatsword of darkness.

A wordless but singleminded affirmation to her friend that the feelings are reciprocated, and this is what Solanine believes she needs to do.

In a small place in her mind, she's compartmentalized her experience of K.K, his bearing, his words, his declaration of adversity and more viscerally, (for the sight of it, the feel of it cuts her to her core) the manifestation of his weapon... Shadow, that wears the guise of light... a Blessing of Darkness as her own, wielded as a greatsword in kind.

It takes nearly all of her will to not allow this to distract her from her attack on Ragnell.

GS: CRITICAL! Seraph Ragnell takes a glancing hit from Gwen Whitlock's St. Elmo's Fire for 63 hit points!
GS: Jam and Jam! Statuses applied to Seraph Ragnell!
GS: Hyper! Statuses applied to Gwen Whitlock!
GS: Seraph Solanine has attacked Seraph Ragnell with Nolana!
GS: Seraph Solanine has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Seraph Solanine has completed her action.
GS: Seraph Ragnell takes a glancing hit from Seraph Solanine's Nolana for 70 hit points!

<Pose Tracker> Josephine Lovelace has posed.
<SoundTracker> Ruinous Commander - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LXvxgkMEgD0

        And again. And again.

        The Photosphere--

        And here, the panel swallows Josie up.

        And here, as everyone lands atop a particular panel, it swallows all of them up.

        It's cold. Just like it had been, back then, out atop the damaged Photosphere. The tableau is much as it was -- Siegfried, dead and gone.

        But.

        There are significant differences.

        The Tzadkiel -- the battleship of Solaris -- hovers in the sky, pristine and whole.
        It is joined by other ships.

        Atop the Photosphere, the soldiers of the Holy Empire of Solaris number in the hundreds.
        They are here to eliminate all not of their number.

        Josie falls back, drawing her sidearm at her hip, and cracks off a single shot. A soldier falls.

        It doesn't much matter. Strike one down, strike ten down, strike twenty down--
        There are more than there were before. There are always more.
        She runs out of bullets. Wheeling back a step, she holsters the ARM, goes for the flask in her pocket during a small, hard-won lull, and takes a nip from within.
        It's all the time she gets -- perhaps all the moment any of them get in the fray.

        Can't stop now. I promised.

        "Keep fighting!" she roars, resorting to a jolt of lightning hurled overhand at an officer near at hand.
        Can't stop. Won't stop.

DG: Josephine Lovelace has used her Tool Liquid Courage toward her party's challenge, The Dissent That Dooms.

GS: Seraph Lanval takes a solid hit from Chime Isa's Quick Bolt for 0 hit points!
GS: Quick! Statuses applied to Seraph Lanval!

<Pose Tracker> Cecilia Adlehyde has posed.

She was late. She had needed to prepare, where they'd found themselves. Moments to steal herself for the task ahead. Was it selfish to claim them?

        >shaman...

Cecilia isn't running when she finally arrives, behind the others pounding at the Trial Knight's gate. She's walking, staff at hand. Fei's words thundered across in recognition of something Cecilia herself had had to recognize. It's a strange thing, to be most regularly complimented by people you've called foes...

But the princess is here, her traveling boots and worn attire shimmering with Ley as she wreathes herself in it. Is she wrong to feel like this is an intrusion into something her own?

                shaman.......

No, she decides. There's a calm she hasn't often felt, in these moments of life-or-death warfare. Ragnell betrayed her - whatever pithy spin she puts upon it, the wound is open and raw. The Trial Knight is trying to kill everything, and shows nothing resembling shame, remorse, not even the megalomania Cecilia has come to know how to hate. She doesn't understand. Fortunately, the Trial Knight has a certain talent for forcing her hand.

And as the Trial Knight's light explodes across them, seethes with unspoken glories and seeks the heart of the world...

"I will," Cecilia finds herself saying. "All this to save my world, and yet you scream for more. Then I will give that to you! Material!"

The Medium is there before the word is spoken, floating before her, erupting in light. Grudiev, Guardian of Earth, glorious in crystal, screams and releases his wrath down on the Trial Knight in waves of blasting magic, while Cecilia keeps stepping forward, defying the Trial Knight's abundant pressure.

GS: Cecilia Adlehyde has attacked K.K. with Material - Magnetron Bomb!
GS: Cecilia Adlehyde has completed her action.
GS: K.K. takes a glancing hit from Cecilia Adlehyde's Material - Magnetron Bomb for 35 hit points!
GS: Cover! Statuses applied to Cecilia Adlehyde!

<Pose Tracker> Catenna has posed.

A few more platforms pass beneath Catenna. Images of woodlands, grasslands, badlands. Masked figures. A rainstorm that seeks to wash away her humanity.

A panel that reaches up to consume her with a bitter cold and a sudden gust. Familiar smells on the air - burning ozone and the scent of blood with too much ferromaterial in it. The Photosphere. Catenna swallows a lump of sudden anxiety, unable to entirely push it down.

Above, the battleships of Solaris loom. Catenna's dealings with the Sky People had been fairly rare; she'd crossed the path of the Tzadkiel only in passing at best, and she hadn't climbed outside to confront Siegfried or Id. She has no way of knowing there are more than there were in reality, but it wouldn't surprise her.

A soldier goes down all of a sudden, falling off the ship and into the void with a shriek, clutching at an arrow jutting from his forehead. Catenna notches another one and fires it into the soldier crowd. Another one of them tumbles. Weapons fire goes screeching past, close enough that the heat bleeding off the shots scorches the hairs on the back of her neck. She sucks in a breath that she's fortunate to take and whirls to belt off a few cantrips. Gravity ripples. A few soldiers go flying.

"Josie, I'm going to try something!" Catenna shouts over the noise of the fight.

Another round of shots blazes by the Moon Shaman. She vaults to the side, flipping extravagantly, then comes up with another shout and a cast. A few more soldiers tumble away. And Catenna whirls towards her real target and holds out her hand.

And levels her palm towards the looming shape of the Tzadkiel.

Chanting in Zortroan, Catenna counts on Josephine and the others to keep the soldiers at bay; she needs to focus to build a spell this massive. Overhead, there is a sickening lurch - and the air begins to pull apart.

That light ringing the Tzadkiel begins to stream off and distort into unnatural arcs and curves, in ways that light should not bend. The cold sky itself pulls open to reveal the gaping mouth of an enormous singularity just below the immense ship. Even the air distorts, lensing around that chasmic gravitational anomaly into waves that make it look like someone has physically folded reality.

Sweating, Catenna grits her teeth as she pours as much power as she can muster into the Grand Singularity. Earlier, it had turned a simulacrum of Berserk into a fleshy cylinder no larger than her hand.

The bigger they are, the more Catenna's gravity spells tend to do. And the Tzadkiel is pretty big.

DG: Catenna has used her Tool Celesdue Medium toward her party's challenge, The Dissent That Dooms.

<Pose Tracker> Talia has posed.

Talia never stood atop the Photosphere. When the end came for the Photosphere, she had been in battle with Volsung. She only knows of the Quarter Knight Siegfried by reputation; as the father of her best friend's mother. She stares at his corpse, for a moment, and then she takes a nervous step backward. Her eyes drift towards Josie, and she starts to stumble on the mottled, broken surface of the Photosphere for just a moment.

"These are... Gebler, no?" she asks. She grits her teeth -- and then she looks up at the Tzadkiel, with that strange glow. Her eyes narrow.

Awareness sets in.

"We have to fight our way there!" she shouts. Then, Talia leaps; she does a tight pirouette over the top of one Gebler soldier, comes crashing down upon another, and then slams her parrying dagger through the helmet and into the eye of one. It tears out bloody, before she spins, aiming a hand out towards several of them.

A magical circle lights up, underneath her feet, and flashes a bright blue. She has no idea of what might be happening behind her; of the weight this vision and this place carries for Fei Fong Wong and Elhaym van Houten. "Brr, something frosty, blah blah, chilly, cold--FREEZE LANCER!"

And a spike of ice explodes forward, shooting into the mass of Gebler soldiers and tries to create a breach for them, if only for a moment.

DG: Talia has contributed a Combat Basic Action toward her party's challenge, The Dissent That Dooms.

<Pose Tracker> Elhaym van Houten has posed.

 
Television!

Elly briefly glances at Talia as she belatedly remembers the library, but - television! It can't be anything else, Elly thinks - or is television an echo of this effect? She sees her life, she sees steel halls with very occasional touches of green...

Other memories past by. Catenna's pain, Fei's memory of camping (which flatters Elly, though in passing), others - everything moves so quickly. Elly sees Josie but doesn't focus on her and then

                ah! The Tzadkiel!

Elly blinks once, slowly.

"yes," she answers Talia. "That's - that's the - "

She falters. The Tzadkiel! It is not that she loves Gebler, but she can remember that ship. For a little while it was her home. This is an image, but can she fight it, can she oppose it? Catenna is straining herself to follow a path that reminds Elly (perhaps in a moment of surprising insight) of the actions of that Clysmian.

Elly looks at her feet.

She reaches into her coat pocket. And up she raises - the Gear Call. "... I suppose," Elly says, "It worked once." A button is pressed:

>> Call Gear

Scale and dreams distort. It is not really Vierge. It is a memory, the feeling of that cutting-edge unit and the hopes and dreams and agonies and passions that have poured into it. The mute and feminine form of this Gear has seen a great deal. It has something which, in scale-paradox, may make the impossible possible.

Six objects whip out of Vierge as it looms pastaroundbehind the group. They fly towards the fleet.

Lights begin to flash.

DG: Elhaym van Houten has contributed a Combat Basic Action toward her party's challenge, The Dissent That Dooms.

<Pose Tracker> K.K. has posed.
<SoundTracker> Dependent Weakling -- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A7dLO2UXiOQ

"'Tis a fool that takes their measure of a broad stroke."

The knight shines. The white of them looks almost liquid in this light. White and gold trail after them in vaporous pathways like waterpaint lingering its etchings through the air. Power PULSES through them, amplifying until it crackles like electricity. Their words come slow.

Their message, much like the weight of their stare, for Elvis.

The Veruni is raw, titanic strength. Even amongst his kind. Intelligence and power -- there is a reason this man is one of his people's leaders. His fist rears back. K.K. could meet him with steel.

They choose to meet him with their bare hand.

        THOOM

"You are a thoughtful creature."

Blue crystal has splintered beneath the Trial Knight -- the Adversary -- and Elvis. It goes concave through the weight of that blow.

And K.K. stands there, holding that fist in their iron clench of clawed fingers, their presence blazing. Elvis' fist is easily twice the size of theirs. Their arm trembles, just slightly.

But they hold.

"Perchance even wise." Their grip on their weapon tightens. "But 'twould serve you well to remember but this fact.

"'Tis not a nicked name."

Heels dig in to the fractured earth.

"'Tis the sum of all that I must be."

And with a -shove-, they seek to -launch- Elvis upward into the air, following with a upward, spinning sweep of that blade impossible in its fluid grace --

--the explosion of golden fire that bleeds to Althena-blessed Shadow to engulf Elvis seconds later, beautiful in its tempestuous power.

A second passes. Their attention turns. Focuses upon a Seraph in the distance, reciting that holy spell of healing. Their blade swings to their side, heavy enough a motion to kick wind up within its wake.

"A Seraph of Light," they muse, thoughtful.

"If you are Ragnell's companion, then--"

And then they -move-, their armored body becoming a glowing smudge of speed as they -sweep- past Clarine. The swipe of their dual-bladed weapon is felt as little more than a powerful gush of air that rushes through her.

The blade of raw Shadow that follows screaming in its wake, however, is of a much more dangerous stripe entirely.

"--I would bid you fight, with everything you can!"

Not a second later do they land then their free hand is lurching upright. Clawed fingers curl as light shines above them, motes of gold and white coalescing into the form of a great tome with a strange symbol emblazoned in gold on its blue and white cover. It flips open, pages streaming, dark magic bleeding off its turning pages as the knight focuses in. Xantia charges.

It won't be like last time.

        CLASH

"No," utters the Trial Knight.

"It will not."

A blade of light possessing substance clashes with a blade of substance that seemed to come from light. The top blade of K.K.'s weapon holds fast to Xantia's, sparks crackling between them as the very tip of her blade bites into a glowing pauldron, seeming to almost dip into the light.

"You fight with hope," they say, in answer to Xantia's words.

"I fight with love."

They hold fast. The book continues to turn. Sigils of deep violet form.

"You are strong, girl. You have become so much the stronger. I would well have wished to answer you in a way you could understand."

Directly under Xantia's feet.

"You need but know that I will never stop. For this is my purpose."

And -back- leaps the knight, seconds before great blades of shadow, fashioned like inky wings of Althena's Blessing, -descend- rapidly upon Xantia one after the other like the executioner's blade.

"Have you yet found yours?"

Their hand sweeps. The magic within that book churns, redirects.

Their attention focuses on Chime.

"Then fight. Or fall. There is no other option."

And more of those blades sweep forward, born on dreadful wings to carve their black magic through Chime's very spirit one after the other.

The magic fades. The book lingers. Shadow crackles like electricity along the mighty dual blades of their weapon as they turn slowly. Their gaze focuses on two targets, charging for Ragnell.

The Beast of Lohgrin. And...

"And what of Wehaca?"

... Cyre.

Their movement is like a bolt of lightning. In one second they are there. In the next, they are -rushing- towards the Shaman of Wehaca, blade gripped in both hands and spun -powerfully-. Twin blades of shadow whip one after the other in its wake, carving through segments of floor and columns as they scream a path towards Cyre.

"What of your brother?"

The Wehaca, they drowned in despair.

The brother, they drenched in Malevolence.

"What have you to show for them, boy?"

Crystal torn free from their blitz suspend in mid-air, creating a beautiful, floating sight as they wade through unflinching. Their blade lifts.

"You cage yourself against naught but your own awareness, child."

And this time, they -leap-.

When they descend, it is to -impale- Beast through on the edge of that blade and -PIN- her to the earth like a butterfly on display by some collector. They will attempt to land, crouched, on the shell of her statue.

"You think yourself safe from this through such a paltry partition?"

The blade thrums.

"You are more vulnerable than any of them. They face their end boldly."

And then -discharges- raw, black power, -straight- through that statue. Every. Single. Inch. Not Malevolence.

Simply will.

"You cower from it!"

And there they might plunge deeper, unmake every inch of the Beast --

-- save that the expanding field from Gwen's arm COLLIDES with them seconds later, a raw discharge of electricity enough, at the very least, to take them by surprise and -knock- them away.

Electricity courses, spits, along their armor. It adds to the chorus of energies that swirl around the knight. They do not advance. They say but four words.

"Well met, Gwen Whitlock."

It is praise that lasts only as long as it takes for Cecilia to make her potent arrival. The Guardian of Earth at her back, charged with the Ley that suffuses this place so abundantly, she makes her bold declaration, and -discharges- that raw magic upon the knight. The first knocks them back one step, two. Chunks of armor explode away.

The second knocks them back a single step.

The third, none.

The fourth...

"Shaman of Filgaia. Princess of Adlehyde."

        ... they begin to wade through the torrent.

Armor like liquid glides back into place.

"You would stop me? Come then."

Their weapon thrums with shadow, a pitch of black against the light that grows closer and closer even as -Cecilia- steps forward.

"My will is my weapon. My word is my steel."

And on that last wave --

"Can you claim the same?"

-- their weapon WEAVES upward, the gout of shadow BLAZING through it to cut it clean in two -- and send itself SCREAMING towards the advancing Cecilia.

"Come, and we shall see!"

GS: K.K. has attacked K.K. with Ataraxia!
GS: K.K. takes a solid hit from K.K.'s Ataraxia for 0 hit points!
GS: Hyper, Quick, and Shield! Statuses applied to K.K.!
GS: K.K. has activated a Boss Action!
GS: K.K. has activated a Force Action!
GS: K.K. has spent 3 Combo on Headshot, including 0 on Gatling!
GS: K.K. has attacked Elvis with Shadow Fire!
GS: K.K. has gained 1 Combo!
GS: K.K. has attacked Seraph Clarine with Noir Edge!
GS: K.K. has gained 2 Combo!
GS: K.K. has attacked Chime Isa with Dread Wings!
GS: K.K. has attacked Xantia with Dread Wings!
GS: K.K. has gained 2 Combo!
GS: K.K. has attacked Seraph Beast with Noir Edge!
GS: K.K. has attacked Cyre H. Lorentz with Noir Edge!
GS: K.K. has attacked Cecilia Adlehyde with Noir Edge!
GS: K.K. has completed their action.
GS: Chime Isa takes a solid hit from K.K.'s Dread Wings for 325 hit points!
GS: CRITICAL! Elvis guards a hit from K.K.'s Shadow Fire for 202 hit points!
GS: CRITICAL! Seraph Clarine guards a hit from K.K.'s Noir Edge for 245 hit points!
GS: Cyre H. Lorentz has gained 1 Combo!
GS: K.K. has lost 1 Combo!

DC: MISS! Cyre H. Lorentz completely evades Noir Edge from K.K.!

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Ragnell has posed.

        Water and lightning can be an awesome mix if they're mixed together well--but this is as far from that as one can get. Ragnell might not have wanted to exchange blows with Lanval the other day, but today is different. Today is all about going as hard as one can. "You think so? Well, good luck with that, Lanv!"
        
        To Jean, she gives a crooked but sincere smile. "I 'ppreciate that, Jean," she replies. "For what it's worth--" And she shoots a glance at Lemina here, to make sure she knows she's included in this. "--I liked bein' part o' th' 'Vile Fiends.' Y'all were fun to hang with. So, no hard feelin's, no matter what happens here." Including if Lemina can't help but hate Ragnell. Ragnell saw that disgust pass her expression, and will accept those feelings as the price of following her convictions.
        
        For the same reason, when Beast apologizes, Ragnell calls back, "No need to be sorry." Ceimglace finally finds her voice enough to ask her 'why?'; Ragnell only 'tsks.' "If we both live through this, I'll tell ya 'bout it over a round o' beers," she tells her.
        
        Ragnell's expression softens briefly as Clarine speaks of what-ifs. "Mmm." It doesn't last. It hardens in particular when Clarine recoils at the sight of K.K.'s new form--no. At the double-bladed greatsword they now wield. At the Divine Artifact that Clarine once possessed as part of her pact with a long-forgotten Shepherd. "You recognized it, huh? I knew you would!" she calls at her former companion. Just before K.K. makes their own statement and rushes at Clarine, Ragnell concludes, "Think of it as proof of just how tough my convictions are!!"
        
        Speaking of convictions, Gwen shows hers by way of introducing herself back at K.K., then declaring she'll die happily in the defense of this world. Ragnell laughs, but it's neither condescending nor mocking; it's the laughter of someone who's delighted by a good battle--particularly as Gwen unleashes that electric ball of her own at her and her companion. Ragnell dodges to one side, but it still clips her, hard, knocking her to one side as Solanine leaps forward to strike her with her blade. Ragnell leaps back at the last second, but not before that blade tears powerfully at her poncho and side, leaving behind long injuries.
        
        Meanwhile, Lanval's Sleepy Bubble moves at a lethargic pace, but it's one of many attacks that Ragnell has to contend with all at once. Jean gets right up in her face with her beautiful, flowing dance moves, spinning light and heat as she moves. Ragnell dances with her at a time when perhaps she should not, laughter in her voice and movement even as Jean strikes. Lemina's whirling vortex of a spell--fire and wind combined, nice, that's just like the sassy little genius--clip Ragnell, leaving her open for Lanval's Sleepy Bubble to snap open at her other side. Fire and water don't mix well either, though, so she manages to get out of both with somewhat less damage that she otherwise would.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Ragnell has posed.

        But then Beast chomps down on Ragnell's arm, and Cyre smashes into her with ferocious power, and between the both of them, they pin her down enough that even Ceimglace's aimed-to-miss icicle can't help but hit. Under this rapid barrage of passionate attacks, she stumbles, staggers, and almost falls to one knee, battered and torn...
        
        Before she pulls the trigger on the gun held by the arm Beast chomped. Its charged surge of power explodes out to fire onto Beast's armor in an attempt to force her to fall back. Meanwhile, a Seraphic glyph forms again at Ragnell's feet.
        
        "Oh yeah? Was that *really* for Filgaia?" she calls over to Cyre, echoing K.K.'s remark. "You're a pretty selfish guy--I got a feelin' that was for you, too. But hey, why don't you spread the love a little? I'm not interested in men!"
        
        The arte completes during her taunt. She turns her back on Cyre, leaving him to K.K.'s 'tender' 'mercies,' and flings out an arm. "O darkened stormclouds! Thunder Blade!!" A blade of lightning shears down towards Ceimglace and Solanine, crackling down on them and sending a burst of electricity upon impact; if they don't get away quickly enough, it'll follow up with a massive EXPLOSION that might knock them off their feet.
        
        A second arte follows rapidly on the heels of the first; Ragnell eschews the chant entirely, opting to conclude, "Divine Saber!!" This time, a ring of lightning thunders down around Lanval and Gwen, striking down from above down to below with a pair of matching glyphs, lightning striking at random on the other edges until finally there is one massive central bolt that pours down like starlight.
        
        Then she twirls into a dance-like move of her own, and a whirlwind tears up around her, crackling with lightning that she fires into the tornado before pointing and unleashing it two-armed at Jean and Lemina to tear into the two Fiends. Dual element for a dual element. "Tornado Chaser!!"
        
        As she lands from her attacks, though, Ragnell spots Cecilia charging in (though she's hard to miss with that Ley shimmering around her), summoning Grudiev to assault K.K. with its ferocious waves of earth magic. There's another one that Ragnell doesn't expect to forgive her--but for now, she merely casts a look in her direction. "So you're here! I was worried you were gonna ditch the party, Cece," she drawls at her with her usual carefree tone, same as she's always spoken to her. She even uses her casual nickname, the one she'd used when everyone else insisted on 'Princess.' It might make that raw wound of Cecilia's sting that much more bitterly.

GS: Seraph Ragnell has activated a Force Action!
GS: Seraph Ragnell enters a Counter stance!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has attacked Seraph Beast with Tempest Laser!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has spent 5 Combo on Gatling, including 4 on Gatling!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has attacked Seraph Ceimglace with Thunder Blade!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has spent 5 Combo on Gatling, including 4 on Gatling!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has attacked Seraph Solanine with Thunder Blade!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has attacked Gwen Whitlock with Divine Saber!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has attacked Seraph Lanval with Divine Saber!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has attacked Jean with Tornado Chaser!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has entered a Reflect stance!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has attacked Lemina Ausa with Tornado Chaser!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has entered a Reflect stance!

<Pose Tracker> Fei Fong Wong has posed.

This is a very recent memory.

It is definitely not a happy memory. This one moment in time feels like it will haunt him for the rest of his days. Siegfried, dead. Perhaps he was Lacan's brother and not his but in truth, isn't he Lacan? He's not sure. He's really not sure.

Three Feis stand behind Fei. One Fei wears a uniform and carries a sword at his side, and Moor Galt's medium at his waist. He carries himself with the formal bearing of a military man. If Lily were here, there might be some resemblance to how Leon carries himself at times. He stares steely at the scene before him.

        "I'm sure I saw it." This Fei says. "He was exceptionally skilled. He could have slain her if he had wanted. But he hesitated. There's a heart in him. We should stay our arms for he may one day be the hope of his people. He may be the hope of Filgaia."

There is another Fei, right behind Fei. He is dressed very similarly to this Fei. It's almost impossible to tell the difference but there's small adjustments in his mannerisms, in his behavior. He paces around a bit more, a bit more nervous maybe? It's hard to tell, really, but...maybe he's just a bit more shy?

        "He's our friend." This Fei tells Fei. "We've all got our dark sides, our secrets... He wanted to learn about us, our people, despite being enemies. It was five hundred years ago. We should help him, we should be kind to him. I want to see that face smile, I want to see his eyes shine with hope. Wouldn't that be an amazing thing? Elly would be so happy about that." This Fei looks towards Elly. "Right?"

The final Fei has blood red hair. He hangs behind Fei and rests a cold hand on his shoulder, standing closer, nearer, in some ways dearer to him than any of the others. His face is so pale. He looks dead.

        "He's just one more friend they've taken from us." This Fei whispers. "They will never rest until we are broken. We are a little broken already. There will never be peace or lasting joy on Filgaia so long as they rule over mankind. Get your revenge... here and now, in the future, forever..."

Fei closes his eyes and he nods once. A red gear materializes around his body, lifting him up as he takes form. In short order, Weltall-Id has returned and it gestures with one hand towards the incoming Armada.

"Ragnell." He says. "This is how I make the world my enemy."

And with that a twin pair of red chi blasts erupt out of Weltall and punch through the armada. It's just an illusion, of course.

...But Fei can only see it so much before it tears his heart out again once more.

DG: Fei Fong Wong has used his Tool RPS Badge toward his party's challenge, The Dissent That Dooms.

GS: Lemina Ausa guards a hit from Seraph Ragnell's Tornado Chaser for 101 hit points!
GS: Seraph Ceimglace takes a solid hit from Seraph Ragnell's Thunder Blade for 188 hit points!
GS: Seraph Beast takes a solid hit from Seraph Ragnell's Tempest Laser for 144 hit points!
GS: Seraph Beast critically Guards a hit from K.K.'s Noir Edge for 47 hit points!
GS: Seraph Beast has gained 1 Combo!
GS: K.K. has lost 1 Combo!

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Ragnell has posed.

        Ragnell can't see what all is going on with Fei and Id, being busy with her battle. But rest assured, if she'd caught Id's comment, she'd look over the destruction he wreaks and say, "Nice."

GS: Seraph Lanval enters CONDITION GREEN!!
GS: Seraph Lanval has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has lost 1 Combo!

DC: MISS! Seraph Lanval completely evades Divine Saber from Seraph Ragnell!

GS: Jean takes a glancing hit from Seraph Ragnell's Tornado Chaser for 83 hit points!
GS: CRITICAL! Xantia takes a solid hit from K.K.'s Dread Wings for 472 hit points!
GS: Xantia enters CONDITION GREEN!!
GS: Xantia has Fallen! She is no longer able to fight!
GS: Xantia has been restored to full HP!
GS: Seraph Solanine takes a glancing hit from Seraph Ragnell's Thunder Blade for 89 hit points!

<Pose Tracker> Ida Everstead-Rey has posed.

        A freezing wind rises up from the next pane of glass as Ida leaps for it. When she lands, she's no longer atop glass, but atop the metal hull of the Photosphere, witnessing a very familiar sight. This time, though, Fei isn't cradling Siegfried's body--he's there, with her. Ida turns to look at him, even as she sees the soldiers in Gebler uniforms, and adrenaline floods her system. "It's a memory," she says, but before she's finished turning her head, she sees the other Feis behind the first. She falls silent. "...Lee?" Her voice wavers in fear, as does her right arm. The draconic armor compresses in on itself, flows, shifts. Ida takes a breath, focuses. A flare grenade sails over Catenna's head, detonating before a swarm of Gebler soldiers; its flare is brighter, the bang of combusting gunpowder that much louder. It's as if the weapon contained Ida's anger in addition to chemicals. The formation breaks. Ida has both ARMs in hand in the next heartbeat, and rushes forwards.

        Ida opens fire. Two Gebler soldiers stumble back, matching holes blown through their chests. Another goes down, red spurting from the hollow of his throat. Ida surges into the empty space she just carved in the enemy formation, and keeps shooting. Red stains the Photosphere deck, over and over again.

DG: Ida Everstead-Rey has used her Tool Flare Grenade toward her party's challenge, The Dissent That Dooms.

=======================<* Birth of a Wish ~ In The End *>=======================
====================<* CHALLENGE - The Dissent That Dooms *>====================
|Type: Exploration |Dungeon Ability: Combat    |Challenge Rating: 2          | 
---------------------------< Challenge Information: >---------------------------
     "You have become obsolete. Your existence is no longer necessary."        
                                                                               
 A splintering shriek of metal.                                                
                                                                               
 An ionized crackle.                                                           
                                                                               
 The scent of iron in the air.                                                 
                                                                               
 You are at the very top of the Photosphere's exterior. A Photosphere          
 currently in a dire state of collapse without the supporting presence of its  
 Mother to hold it aloft. There are ships dotting the sky. Ships, and Gears,   
 of strange and advanced make. Gebler make.                                    
                                                                               
 So many. So many more than there were that day. The Tzadkiel shines in the    
 sky, untarnished, still in tact.                                              
                                                                               
 But the Quarter Knight Siegfried lies frozen on the collapsing floor of the   
 Photosphere, lifeless.                                                        
                                                                               
 It is a tableau not entirely frozen, however; soon, Gebler's agents are upon  
 you, distorting and twisting in brief static-y bursts into transient,         
 non-euclidean shapes between the pulse, pulse, pulse that churns through      
 this world. They fight. They are dealt with. More come. They fight. They are  
 dealt with.                                                                   
                                                                               
 More come.                                                                    
                                                                               
 The armada of Solaris seems endless in its wrath. If the knot binding this    
 place is not found and unmade, they may never end. The Photosphere groans in  
 its ending throes. The Tzadkiel seems to all but glow with peculiar           
 radiance.                                                                     
                                                                               
 Can you make it past?                                                         
                                                                               
 Or are you doomed to lose yet more friends to the inevitable?                 
=Dungeon Conditions: Overwhelm, Vault=========================================

==================<* Birth of a Wish ~ In The End - Round 2 *>==================
======================< Results - The Dissent That Dooms >======================
Player                               Exhaustion                      Pass/Fail
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ida Everstead-Rey                   0 --(5)--> 5                   Pass
Flare Grenade                       2   Combat  Effects: Embolden             
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Catenna                             0 --(5)--> 5                   Pass
Celesdue Medium                     2   Combat  Effects: Embolden             
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Josephine Lovelace                  0 --(5)--> 5                   Pass
Liquid Courage                      3   Combat  Effects: Rally                
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Talia                               0 --(5)--> 5                   Pass
Fight                               0   Combat  Effects: BASIC                
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Fei Fong Wong                       0 --(5)--> 5                   Pass
RPS Badge                           3   Combat  Effects: Rally                
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Elhaym van Houten                   0 --(5)--> 5                   Pass
Fight                               0   Combat  Effects: BASIC                
-----------------------------------< Party >------------------------------------
Leader: Ida Everstead-Rey           30 --(35)--> 65                Pass
Conditions: Hesitate(1)|Overwhelm|Secret(1)|Vault(1)
Effects: Embolden(1)
===============================< Dream Chasers >================================

DG: The party led by Ida Everstead-Rey has passed this challenge! The party gained 35 exploration! If anyone needs to
use party management commands, do so now. Otherwise, the next round's GM may begin the next round with +dungeon/draw.

GS: Gwen Whitlock critically Guards a hit from Seraph Ragnell's Divine Saber for 44 hit points!
GS: Gwen Whitlock enters CONDITION GREEN!!
GS: Gwen Whitlock has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has lost 1 Combo!

<Pose Tracker> Jean has posed.

"It's all right," Jean tells Lemina, her voice even as she dances, as she weaves through combat. Maybe she'll believe her, maybe she won't--but Jean seems to be sure. ...It isn't the same, Lemina's feelings, hers--

"It'd be nice, if we could have gone on that way," Jean answers Ragnell, more fully. "...But every story has an ending, sooner or later."

No hard feelings. Jean still doesn't show anger. She shows... a different set of emotions, something more complex, something spoken by step and turn and arch and whirl.

She doesn't object to having a partner, for a few moments, weaves Ragnell into her movements too. But strike she does, with powerful limbs if not with the power she could have brought to bear.

But the great Arte comes an instant later--as Ragnell points, Jean turns on her heel, moving immediately into a spin. There is no way to avoid being caught in the storm, burned by lightning and battered by wind--

So she doesn't. Instead, she shifts to the side, behind, to where Lemina has been knocked away, and catches her in both arms, whirling her around to set her back down. "It's going to be okay," she says--and turns, again.

She steps back, bends again, and leaps up into the air, spinning mid-way to turn towards Ragnell--and brings her fingers to her lips, Shadow magic flowing through her as she calls it forth with a few motions, and blows a kiss for Ragnell and the disadvantages she's already taken, a clever, playful little magic--

That arrives before Jean does, to get right back into melee, jabbing before whirling into a spinning kick. "No hard feelings--from me. We've both had worse."

GS: Jean has attacked Seraph Ragnell with Enchanted Kiss!
GS: Jean has completed her action.
GS: COUNTER! Seraph Ragnell strikes at Jean with a counter attack!
GS: Seraph Ragnell takes a solid hit from Jean's Enchanted Kiss for 94 hit points!
GS: Seraph Ragnell suffers Infect, extending negative statuses by 1 turn each!
GS: Jean takes a solid hit from Seraph Ragnell's Counter Attack for 135 hit points!
GS: Jean enters CONDITION GREEN!!

<Pose Tracker> Josephine Lovelace has posed.

        There's a story, in some traditions, of a monster.

        It was said that no matter how many times one swung their blade, once its head was cleaved from its body, two sprouted in its place. Four. Eight. Sixteen. And so on, into infinity. So it is here.

        One dead is nothing to the horde of soldiers: another is willing to step in where a fellow may fall. There are more. There are always more. How can anyone hope to stand up against it all?

        "Yeah--" It will have to suffice as an answer for Talia in the moment.

        But.
        None of them falter.

        "Do it!" she shouts at Catenna, just moments before the Shaman draws down the moon.

        Just moments before Talia unleashes a gout of frost, joining with her own shots of lightning.

        Moments before Ida joins in with ARM in hand.

        Just seconds before Elly calls forth Vierge.
        Before Weltall joins in kind.

        There's more to that story than an unkillable monster. There was a hero, too, wasn't there?
        They'd burned the stumps so the beast could grow no more heads and in doing so, slew it.

        A single shining cube rains downwards from the heavens--

        To a now-still Photosphere as a light snow begins to fall.

DG: Elhaym van Houten has drawn a new Challenge.

======================<* Birth of a Wish ~ In The End *>======================
=====================<* CHALLENGE - The Dog That Drags *>=====================
|Type: Exploration |Dungeon Ability: Agility   |Challenge Rating: 2          | 
--------------------------< Challenge Information: >--------------------------
                  "She ever had a poor influence upon you."                    
                                                                               
 Krosse Castle. Inundated with the familiar throb of the Anomalous Orb, fear   
 and paranoia thrums through this place with every growing beat of the         
 crystal artifact from wherever it lies. Tables filled with clutters of        
 laboratory tools and research notes fill the rooms of this wing.              
                                                                               
 Symbological runes of a very specific make and very meticulous style have     
 been carved into the walls.                                                   
                                                                               
 He stands, at an end of branching hallways. Wizened, clutching upon a         
 gnarled staff to support his weight beneath its sturdy length. Dark eyes      
 gleaming with obsessive fire that disregards everything else around him not   
 of immediate interest.                                                        
                                                                               
 And that, it seems, includes you.                                             
                                                                               
 The symbols on the walls start to glow. The halls shift and the pieces of     
 the building literally begin to -move- and change, hallways rolling over      
 into new rooms, expanding and growing longer, bending at unnatural angles.    
 The more you try to reach the wizened wizard, the further you seem to get     
 from him. Forever unable to reach. To undo this stretch of space blocking     
 away the Orb, you must undo the tangled knot. But how, if it is perpetually   
 out of reach--                                                                
                                                                               
 Somewhere, far in the back, in a room to the opposite direction of the old    
 Symbologist, rests a simple, unremarkable table.                              
                                                                               
 The scramble of notes that decorate it shine with a peculiar radiance.        
=Dungeon Conditions: Suffer, Treasure=========================================

<Pose Tracker> Lemina Ausa has posed.

"Yeah, it's a lot easier to say that kinda thing when *you're* the jerk," Lemina points out, as Ragnell offers 'no hard feelings.' This may be wisdom that comes from having been the jerk many a time in her past. ... and present. ... and probably future, realistically. Lemina's kind of jerky...

Ragnell meets wind with wind, and Lemina pulls back slightly from the assault, but it's not enough; wind knocks her back -- and into Jean's arms. The dancer tells her it's going to be okay -- and in spite of herself, she believes her. (Jean's so cool...)

As she's deposited back on the ground, she takes a moment, slightly flustered, to compose herself. She takes a moment to try to put something together -- but can't *quite* think of especially creative magic for this... so instead, she leans on an old classic.

She starts a wordless chant, bringing her staff forward, more like a polearm; as she chants, it begins to form sharp blades of ice along its tip. They're only good for one big swing -- but swing she does, yet again for Ragnell.

GS: Lemina Ausa has attacked Seraph Ragnell with Freeze Claw!
GS: Lemina Ausa has completed her action.

<Pose Tracker> Chime Isa has posed.

        Chime see's the attack coming, but the winged blades move so fast she's unable for once to react in time. Thankfully for her fashion sense the blades don't cut flesh and clothing. Unfortunately the cleave deeper and harder. The crossbows drop from her hand and the short elf curls up for a moment in pain.

        Only for a few moments. A painful smile, wide with eyes closed as Chime uncurls pulling out a crest and holding it to her forehead a moment. A green-blue light wraps around her and then sweeps out and the pained smile relaxes slightly into one of memories and then back into it's usual cheerful appearance as she gathers up her crossbows and jumps back to her feet.

        Even as Chime uses her crest, the outsweeping magic wraps around others granting them also a measure of relief and support for the time as the healing magic fills part of the room.

GS: Chime Isa has attacked Seraph Beast with Group Heal!
GS: Chime Isa has attacked Jean with Group Heal!
GS: Chime Isa has attacked Seraph Solanine with Group Heal!
GS: Chime Isa has attacked Seraph Ceimglace with Group Heal!
GS: Chime Isa has attacked Chime Isa with Group Heal!
GS: Chime Isa has gained 2 Combo!
GS: Chime Isa has completed her action.
GS: Chime Isa heals Seraph Beast! She gains 100 temporary hit points!
GS: Seraph Beast enters CONDITION GREEN!!
GS: Chime Isa heals Chime Isa! She gains 100 temporary hit points!

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Lanval has posed.

        Ceimglace calls for Lanval to wake up. Benevolent spirit as he might be, without the formal obligations he once had, Lanval sure seems content to carry on at his own pace sometimes. That he is doing this while the Ley pulses witht he warmth of Love in desperation against the contamination is... really saying something.
        Lanval idly scratches at his bum as a crossbow bolt seems to get him there. There is not much additional pep to be seen, unless the scratching counts, as he tosses on his side. Crackling energy builds in a circle around him, marking him for another round of electric punishment. He stirs some, but there is some method to this madness as lightning strikes around him in that outer circle.
        He doesn't have to move much to evade the outer perimeter of lightning blasts. It is gut-wrenching to watch. All one bolt has to do is touch the edge of him, or that pooling puddle of clear water, to ruin his day. Somehow, the initial precursor to something worse doesn't startle him awake. He stretches out his limbs with another wide yawn as a far greater charge of power glows underneath him...
        There is a flash of aquamarine - from his opening eyes - as he hurls his drinking gourd up by his rope, ejecting a geyser of water above--
 
        *THA-KOOM*
        tssssssssss....
 
        A worrying quantity of steam rises, as droplets of water touch down all around. All this, while there is booming... laughter?
        Not mocking, not tearful, not unhinged. It is simply... mirthful. Once it is clear that he had just managed to avoid being fried to a crisp by a timely deflection of one of Ragnell's most potent electrical assaults by hurling no small amount of water to 'catch' and redirect it...
        "Ceimglace, my friend! I doth believe I am awake!" So says the Mirthful Wellspring, who stands tall as he takes his drinking gourd in hand and flings it upward to splash some more water with good-natured laughter, eyes wide and open as he looks ahead. He can see how an emotionally strained mercenary, another truly kind soul of a depth he cannot fathom, and an archaeologist who sure seems to be as tough as the rock she excavates through all fight through what looks like insurmountable odds way ahead.
        "Ragnell!" This is the booming voice of someone who seems to be intoxicated by his own atmosphere of boundless joy in the moment. That his own Domain isn't just crushed deep into himself and compressed within it underneath this pressure... "Doth thou forsake thy joys you hath found among the gathered even now?!" The way she casually speaks of the idea of there being a thereafter... but then again, even for all he's been through, he is a Seraph whose Domain is in giving an air of joy and contentment with life. Is it in his nature to truly be able to comprehend the full depths of the sorrows, the disappointments, the agonies in which Ragnell has suffered?
        "Water Wheel!" Lanval calls as he merrily skips in, whirling the rope so fast that the gourd is but a blur. A blur of water spilling everywhere, the gourd itself feeling as heavy as any great maul with every (...if any) strike, with one additional touch to his technique - momentary breaks in the assault as he switches hands, as if minimizing the chances for electricity to conduct back and zap him for it, never following an exact rhythm to follow.

GS: Seraph Lanval has attacked Seraph Ragnell with Water Wheel!
GS: Seraph Lanval has gained 2 Combo!
GS: Seraph Lanval has completed his action.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Clarine has posed.

There were some things that stuck with one forever. The form, and shape of that blade, the way it arcs through the air... Many questions arise - how? Why? It's hard to focus on these questions in the midst of heated battle, but an answer soon arrives. She looks toward Ragnell.

"...Of course. I could...never forget it." Clarine whispers. "I was...not sure I would ever see it again... I suppose I should not be surprised that you knew where to find it."

Then Ragnell was right - there was no possible way that Clarine would doubt her convictions. Not that she ever did. But...Ragnell would not part with that blade easily. Clarine knew that. If K.K. had it...it was a testament to her devotion.

She has to wonder, of course, what is was about them that drew her to them - but even not having much experience with them, she can see that they're a driven sort.

She can't help but respect them...but right now, they were her foe. And it is surreal, as well, to find that blade arcing toward her now. Clarine is surprised at K.K.'s immense speed, little more than a blur to her eyes. She raises one of her mirrors as a shield to defend herself...

...But it is the blade of shadow that falls, impacting her shield solidly. A terrible crack runs over the surface of the mirror and it begins to bleed light as she and the mirror are hurled backward by the force of it, colliding roughly with the ground. Her other mirrors collapse to the ground where they float, temporarily deprived of their masters control.

"I-I will give you..." She breathes, hauling herself to her feet. "N-nothing less...!"

The mirrors spin once more, but the light that emits from her is a rainbow of color.

"O seven brilliant blades, I call upon you to descend and loose your shining might! Prism Sword!" She incants.

At her word, light shines down from above. And then, glimmering in all possible colors, six swords forged of crystal and light descend toward K.K. on all sides, planting themselves into the ground, followed by a seventh directly in the center. As soon as it lands, all seven blades erupt in a devastating explosion of light and color.

GS: Seraph Clarine has spent 3 Combo on Headshot, including 0 on Gatling!
GS: Seraph Clarine has attacked K.K. with Prism Sword!
GS: Seraph Clarine has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Seraph Clarine has completed her action.
GS: CRITICAL! K.K. takes a glancing hit from Seraph Clarine's Prism Sword for 85 hit points!
GS: Chime Isa heals Jean! She gains 100 temporary hit points!

<Pose Tracker> Elhaym van Houten has posed.

 
The snow begins to fall.

Gears disappear, perhaps not to be seen again.

Elly shakes her head once, and smiles at Fei, as she looks around for a moment.

To Talia she says, "That was... very effective magic, I suppose," which may be a ghost of humor, because from here there is only the castle of Krosse to enter. The pulse of That Orb is stronger here, a frisson of fear and anxiety and uncertainty and paranoia oozing outwards around them. Elly is only able to push through because of familiarity, and perhaps knowing exactly what is at their back.

The tables. The hallways. This is a laboratory wing. The air smells of bat wings and mold. The runes... Elly puts a hand, not on one, but near it, and glances back to Josie. Her eyes are guilty.

Then a wizened man turns his eyes towards them at the far end of a hall before the symbols glow and the world begins to twist and to turn. Elly, standing in the aperture of a hallway, is able to cling on - she tumbles over, lands on her feet, and immediately topples forwards. "Ah! Hey!" she calls ahead. And then the slope of that corridor increases. She calls towards the others, "I don't know where these -"

" - Go," Elly's voice seems to echo from another nook to the side, which slowly opens and seems for an eye-dizzying moment to show Elly from the front AND the back simultaneously, before thankfully the front view closes up and she leaps out of the side door, back into the room of tables. "I think he's there - up high like that -"

There is a faint radiance through one side door, into a study-carrel. It isn't distorting, or turning, or anything. The doors are open.

Elly, at least, isn't looking that way. None are so blind as those who do not look.

DG: Elhaym van Houten has used her Tool Expedition Boots toward her party's challenge, The Dog That Drags.

GS: Cecilia Adlehyde critically Guards a hit from K.K.'s Noir Edge for 45 hit points!
GS: Cecilia Adlehyde has gained 1 Combo!
GS: K.K. has lost 1 Combo!
GS: Seraph Ragnell takes a glancing hit from Lemina Ausa's Freeze Claw for 92 hit points!
GS: Lemina Ausa has lost 0 Combo!
GS: Seraph Ragnell takes a solid hit from Seraph Lanval's Water Wheel for 189 hit points!
GS: Chime Isa heals Seraph Solanine! She gains 100 temporary hit points!

<Pose Tracker> Elvis has posed.

The punch is thrown. It connects. With an outstretched palm.

"Gh...!" Elvis groans, pivoting his shoulder and pushing into the strike as much as possible. The surrounding ground gives effortlessly, crystallized ley and strong stone caving to the ripple of fource that peals from that hit. "I should have expected you wouldn't be so easy! You would not have made it this far, after all, if you didnt have your own tenets to follow."

"No one walks this path of brimstone without a measure of firm decision." They hold but moments to exchange words. "I would be interested to hear your tale if everything wasn't on the line such as this!"

A sudden quick work of the outstretched hand, and Elvis is actually lifted into the air, and a conical force of ebom fire greets him in turn. The blast connects, and Elvis flies upward and connects with the ceiling, cracking it multiple times.

The man falls and his the floor rather hard, and stone falls atop him. "Think you have the might to stop us all? I have yet begun to fight!" the Sentinel says, standing slowly.

There are too many Humans around to try anything extreme. He doesn't want to bring the entire place down. Elvis concentrates with his mastery of water, to boost his abilities, and cause two pillars of water, from the ceiling and floow, to slam together and attempt to crush K.K. where they stand.

"Why mince your words with cryptic verses?! Be direct in your statements, perchance some of us could understand you!"

Some of the things the Trial Knight make little sense. Though in hearing his words given toward Xantia, he can't help but wonder.

If they do it for love, and yet, wish to kill the world, then is it so someone or something no longer suffers?

Would it be akin to the child that must put down their beloved pet creature turned rabid? Except the pet would be...

A look to Josie's cannon. He hefts it up in his hands. "Wonder if she left it loaded... I am sure she would want it to bite into him."

GS: Elvis used Mystic on Elvis! Status effect durations increased by 2! Temporary HP duration increased by 2!
GS: Elvis has activated a Force Action!
GS: Elvis has attacked K.K. with Hydro Pressure!
GS: Elvis has completed his action.
GS: K.K. takes a glancing hit from Elvis's Hydro Pressure for 63 hit points!

<Pose Tracker> Fei Fong Wong has posed.

Lee turns towards Ida after a moment. He looks at her dispassionately. "Knowing that Luisa found peace within her heart." He tells her. "It helps me rest. Thank you for finding the truth."

It's a simple phrase before he fades away with the rest of the memory. More to the story than an unkillable monster. There was a hero, too. The rest of the Feis fade more gradually, the red haired one vanishing last. Fei smiles at Elly, briefly, but his mood will never be great after seeing his friend die again. and again. and again. and again so quickly in succession. He's not enraged, but he's definitely muted. Perhaps the wound is finally growing numb.

Fei looks over to Catenna for a moment too, wondering what is going on through her mind. He can guess at the rest.

The next area disorients him. This is an even MORE recent memory. "Seriously...?" He mutters. "Ugh...Hang in their Josie... We've got this...?"

He wishes he was able to not make it sound like a question but, well.

Fei starts running up the wall as he tries to gradually orient himself towards those notes. He will probably then try to, like, paper airplane them over to Elly? Yeah, probably something like that.

DG: Fei Fong Wong has contributed a Agility Basic Action toward his party's challenge, The Dog That Drags.

<Pose Tracker> Catenna has posed.

A grenade sails over Catenna's head. Ida, she realizes suddenly. Her stomach tightens and then relaxes with a surge of gratitude - it feels right to her that the woman who's been through life as a Hellion is here to save their mutual world from this.

The Tzadcube drops away, shining. Catenna whips her hair back from her face with a snap of her head. In another time she might feel relief.

"Let's go," is all she says. Her voice is clipped, controlled but urgent.

The halls of Castle Krosse await them, awash with the familiar pulse and flow of something anomalous. The castle had been enough to make Catenna want to crawl out of her skin - at least, in life. The memories of it are far, far too recent for comfort.

They don't matter. Her discomfort is meaningless. Filgaia is standing on a knife-edge and here she is worrying about how much she didn't like Krosse Castle.

The wizened man turns to look at them.

        in the halls of her mind, a man wrapped in bandages turns to look at her

The thought charges through Catenna's mind and then fades away, but it leaves her staring intently forward, suddenly batting down an irrational surge of anger for this wizard. The gleaming caster's staff shines, and the halls shift and move, twisting themselves into new shapes and bizarre angles. Catenna brings herself up short as the corridors distort before them all. Scowling, she reaches for the coil of rope at her hip--

Frowns as she realizes it was in her gi.

Blushes as she realizes that her earlier Zortroan foolishness has robbed her of something useful here.

Dizzied by the sight of Elly from two sides, Catenna darts forward, lunging past her and through a door, presumably into the table room. "Thanks, Elly," she says.

Five seconds later, Catenna comes up behind Elly, a bit out of breath. "Hi Elly," she manages. "These don't obey the rules of geometry."

Bowing her head low, Catenna slides her Medium from her belt. Silver gleams in her hands. A subtle light shines from it, silvery-white, as she whispers a prayer.

"Guide us even when all seems darkest and the sun retreats from sight."

The shimmering light radiates out from around Catenna to begin filtering through the corridors - a spell of dispellation, weaving through the illusions, through the memories. Guardian magic fighting to dispel the confusion of this nightmare and clear the way to the heart of the Anomaly.

DG: Catenna has contributed a Agility Basic Action toward her party's challenge, The Dog That Drags.

<Pose Tracker> Talia has posed.

"It is what I do, no?" Talia asks, with a glance over her shoulder -- smiling back at Elly. And, it should be noted, looking at Fei with some worry. She knows only the vaguest outlines of how he is Id; she only has the barest understanding of how frightening that is. She looks ahead, then, and she swallows as they step into the castle. She hadn't traveled to Krosse, but she knows a castle well enough. "This is..."

Her eyes are on the wizard -- and then the runes, and understanding begins to blossom. She grits her teeth, as symbols begin to glow and the hall begins to shift. Talia leaps, jumping just as the ground under her feet shifts in a way that almost sends her tumbling, and she sees the distant table. She sees that strange shine, which hasn't failed them yet. It helps, too, when Catenna sends that shimmering light ahead of them.

It focuses Talia. She twists in midair, and Mirage -- no longer slicked with Gebler blood -- is flung back again.

"Do we know what will be at the end of this?" Talia yells, partly from exertion and partly because her sense of space and distance are askew.

Then she throws Mirage. It slams into the ground near the table -- and Talia splits into so many strands of smoky shadowstuff, before she comes back together, body slamming into existence about the hilt of her blade. Her fingers curl around it, before she looks back to the rest. "I am not sure if there is a plan we should be concocting, no?"

DG: Talia has used her Tool Mirage toward her party's challenge, The Dog That Drags.

<Pose Tracker> Josephine Lovelace has posed.
<SoundTracker> Cécile Grosvenor - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KIQ7G4C5z9k

        Josie has enough time to exhale a breath. Enough time, before the air she draws in becomes musty, tinged with familiar notes of mold and decay. The scent of stone and old leather. Aged paper.

        She turns, and in the turning what had been a display of triumphant exhaustion undergoes a metamorphosis.

        There's only one good four-letter word for the expression on her face when Elly ventures a guilty glance her way.

        Most graves are well-tended. This one isn't. Even with the desolation of the soil spreading, a stubborn viney weed has overgrown this gravemarker, which the only person present -- a woman, tall, white-haired -- is attempting to clear with a knife.

        "I do not recall," he informs his only daughter, "that name having any meaning to me."

        The moment in which Josie snaps may as well be audible. Space may twist. He may retreat into the distance, ever further, ever unreachable. It doesn't matter.

        She breaks into a run, no matter how impossible it is to reach him across this stretch of tangled space.

"I'LL KILL YOU!!" she screams at her sire.
        The notes are, unfortunately, perhaps of a secondary concern.

DG: Josephine Lovelace has contributed a Agility Basic Action toward her party's challenge, The Dog That Drags.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Beast has posed.

        There is every need to be sorry, and there are no apologies which can fix what is to pass. Perhaps Ragnell will notice, as she keeps her facsimile fangs clamped down, that she does not exert that little extra pressure; there is no attempt to sever hand from limb. She wants to disable her. She does not want to maim her.

        It is a mistake.

        Ragnell seizes on the hesitation and fires into the Beast, and she cries out in alarm as she is thrown back, bodily, before she can hope to react. Her pieces clatter against each other as she catches herself in a heap, here a leg bending like it ought not, there a neck which snaps back at ill angle. The moment she takes to order herself is the moment K.K. uses to declare her ignorance.

        It is an assertation in extreme fashion. No sooner is she risen than that glorious blade descends, plunging through saddle and back-plate, scattering her down to the earth again. Her saddle is designed to be friendly to humanoid occupants; the adverserial knight will find it a fine perch to crouch upon. "I-I --" she starts, pained, and the word catches though she has no throat to tighten, because she can feel the power building.

        It is a mercy that it is not Malevolence K.K. brings to bear; nevertheless it pierces through the shell she has hidden in, and there is no place for her air to hide from the blackness. She cries out, and perhaps it is proof whole that she is scared, because she sounds so, so afraid. Gwen's assault saves her, and there is a puff of wind about her as she struggles to pull her pieces upright once more. "T- thank you," she tells her, with a voice which trembles.

        Perhaps Chime Isa can see her struggle, because green-blue light wends about her, eases the pain of it. "I thank you as well," she calls, to her, and turns to the knight on trial.

        "This is not the end," she tells K.K., and she tries to keep the fear from her voice. Certainly there is no evidence of it in the rictus scream of her mask. "This world will not fall, and I will not perish!" They are brave, brave words, and more notable is the moment's hesitation before she launches herself airborne - to leap upon them and tear at their armor with the teeth and claws of her own.

        She never said she wasn't vulnerable.

        She never said she wasn't cowering.

GS: Seraph Beast enters CONDITION GREEN!!
GS: Seraph Beast has attacked K.K. with Leap and Tear!
GS: Seraph Beast has completed her action.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Ceimglace has posed.

 There is love here. Ceimglace feels it, aching in her bones. The broken bits of blue catch her attention. They are as beautiful as sapphire drops in a princesses' ears, as the blue that is Lanvals' hair, as ... as blue as the sea, when standing next to it. But they're as dangerous as lightning - for some reason, with the way the glass glitters. But as it strikes, it disappears. That'd be why.
 
 The Wellspring comes to life. Ceimglace knew there was a geyser there, somewhere, underneath the placid lake. She can feel the water in her bones. In a way, she's closer to that understanding than she is of lightning. Her mouth crinkles into a smile - and that, perhaps, is all she needs to give Lanval.
 
 However, more lightning strikes - the blade comes down, and she bounces, shifting her weight backwards. This proves to be the wrong idea, however, as the resulting EXPLOSION takes her off of her feet entirely, dropping her hard on her ass as she gets flung backwards, skidding on the floor in her satin dress. This does mean less skid marks, at least. She'll be thankful to not have to explain weird red rashes tomorrow.
 
 She struggles to her feet, panting heavily, hands on her knees. She hasn't gotten an answer. She almost doesn't need an answer. She knows why some have. She knows that even they, as Seraph, can be led to decisions based on the lives that they have had. She remembers why she settled down. That name is whispered again, even as she pushes herself up to her full height, reaching down, ripping her dress to give herself better movement.
 
 Sometimes, you just have to know to replace a dress later. (This is like the ninth one.)
 
 She suddenly moves, her long legs striking out as she moves. Unlike Lanval, who keeps moving at odd delays to throw her off, Ceimglace moves in a mirror, her hips shifting and swinging as she does what would be, to anyone that knows it, the equivalent of a tango without actually touching her partner - at least til the end, when a shift of her feet suddenly turns into an attempt to slam her heel into the back of one of her ... friends... knees.
 
 She hates this.

GS: K.K. takes a solid hit from Seraph Beast's Leap and Tear for 4 hit points!
GS: Weaken! Statuses applied to K.K.!
GS: Chime Isa heals Seraph Ceimglace! She gains 100 temporary hit points!

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Ceimglace has posed.

 Somewhere in the middle of a hip shimmy, Ceimglace turns and genuflects towards CHime, throwing her a wink of thanks.

GS: Seraph Ceimglace has attacked Seraph Ragnell with Takes Two To Tango!
GS: Seraph Ceimglace has completed her action.

<Pose Tracker> Ida Everstead-Rey has posed.

        Ida meets Lee's eyes, and smiles a small, mournful smile. "It was the least I could do for a friend," she says. Then Lee is gone, and the other Feis wink out shortly after, leaving Ida with more questions and no time to ask them.

        Reality shifts again. The pulse of the Orb gives Ida something to lock on to, at least--a beacon in an ever-shifting world. As before, this is a place she saw with her own eyes, but she did not see the old man, nor did she see Josephine's rage when confronted with him. "Josephine?!" Ida squawks, and then the floor twists out from beneath her. Ida falls, bouncing off a stone column and landing on the ceiling. The walls twist again, and Ida slides down towards the door, towards Elly and Josephine.

        "The Orb!" she shouts, as she raises her right arm. The grapple fires, whizzing past Talia's head. "The Orb is at the very center! If we can--if we can just remove it from this place, then--"

DG: Ida Everstead-Rey has used her Tool Line Launcher toward her party's challenge, The Dog That Drags.

======================<* Birth of a Wish ~ In The End *>======================
=====================<* CHALLENGE - The Dog That Drags *>=====================
|Type: Exploration |Dungeon Ability: Agility   |Challenge Rating: 2          | 
--------------------------< Challenge Information: >--------------------------
                  "She ever had a poor influence upon you."                    
                                                                               
 Krosse Castle. Inundated with the familiar throb of the Anomalous Orb, fear   
 and paranoia thrums through this place with every growing beat of the         
 crystal artifact from wherever it lies. Tables filled with clutters of        
 laboratory tools and research notes fill the rooms of this wing.              
                                                                               
 Symbological runes of a very specific make and very meticulous style have     
 been carved into the walls.                                                   
                                                                               
 He stands, at an end of branching hallways. Wizened, clutching upon a         
 gnarled staff to support his weight beneath its sturdy length. Dark eyes      
 gleaming with obsessive fire that disregards everything else around him not   
 of immediate interest.                                                        
                                                                               
 And that, it seems, includes you.                                             
                                                                               
 The symbols on the walls start to glow. The halls shift and the pieces of     
 the building literally begin to -move- and change, hallways rolling over      
 into new rooms, expanding and growing longer, bending at unnatural angles.    
 The more you try to reach the wizened wizard, the further you seem to get     
 from him. Forever unable to reach. To undo this stretch of space blocking     
 away the Orb, you must undo the tangled knot. But how, if it is perpetually   
 out of reach--                                                                
                                                                               
 Somewhere, far in the back, in a room to the opposite direction of the old    
 Symbologist, rests a simple, unremarkable table.                              
                                                                               
 The scramble of notes that decorate it shine with a peculiar radiance.        
=Dungeon Conditions: Suffer, Treasure=========================================

=================<* Birth of a Wish ~ In The End - Round 3 *>=================
=======================< Results - The Dog That Drags >=======================
Player                               Exhaustion                      Pass/Fail
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ida Everstead-Rey                   5 --(10)--> 15                 Pass
Line Launcher                       2   Agility Effects: Quicken              
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Catenna                             5 --(10)--> 15                 Pass
Rush                                0   Agility Effects: BASIC                
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Josephine Lovelace                  5 --(10)--> 15                 Pass
Rush                                0   Agility Effects: BASIC                
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Talia                               5 --(10)--> 15                 Pass
Mirage                              3   Agility Effects: Fanfare              
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Fei Fong Wong                       5 --(10)--> 15                 Pass
Rush                                0   Agility Effects: BASIC                
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Elhaym van Houten                   5 --(10)--> 15                 Pass
Expedition Boots                    2   Agility Effects: Stalwart             
----------------------------------< Party >-----------------------------------
Leader: Ida Everstead-Rey           65 --(25)--> 90                Pass
Conditions: Overwhelm|Suffer(1)|Treasure(1)
Effects: Quicken(1)
==============================< Dream Chasers >===============================

DG: The party led by Ida Everstead-Rey has passed this challenge! The party gained 25 exploration! If anyone needs to
use party management commands, do so now. Otherwise, the next round's GM may begin the next round with +dungeon/draw.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Solanine has posed.

Ragnell's second attack comes with terrifying force, a blade of lightning from on high aimed at the Seraphim of shadow and ice.

The impact of this attack is clear, and Solanine dodges away with a backdash, a benefit of your armor being made of darkness is that it tends to allow more nimble movements than earthly steel, and so she dodges the blade itself, but when the explosion erupts afterwards, the radius of it catches her in withdaw with a forceful shock! Pain wracks the Shadow Seraph, but eased when a wave of healing magic finds her amidst the chaos. She says a quiet thank you to its unseen source, and bounds back to Ragnell, a wave of darkness shaped of poison flowers in her wake.

 Out of the corner of her eye she beholds a wondrous and welcome sight, but one that takes her aback just as much as it warms her heart: The Seraph Lanval... by his own assertion, Awake. Standing tall, standing proud, standing with...joy...? Standing with strength, that he projects out at Ragnell.

After the shock has had its due, she finds the sight, the sound, the confidence and content of his words as he confronts The Lightning Seraph heartening, emboldening, and Solanine grips her greatsword of flowering darkness with both gauntleted hands, and lets loose a double cross cut of cleaves at The Loyal Hound of the Adversary of Man.

GS: Seraph Ragnell takes a glancing hit from Seraph Ceimglace's Takes Two To Tango for 36 hit points!
GS: Seraph Solanine has spent 3 Combo on Headshot, including 0 on Gatling!
GS: Seraph Solanine has attacked Seraph Ragnell with Exodeconus!
GS: Seraph Solanine has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Seraph Solanine has completed her action.

<Pose Tracker> Cyre H. Lorentz has posed.

What, truly, can stand against that power? The Adversary races at him like a bolt of ebon lightning, carving a devastating trail through the terrain. "Wehaca?" Cyre growls, fury roiling in the depths of his bestial throat, "You... You have the gall to ask me about Wehaca?" .

Perhaps it's only because K.K. decided to emulate lightning to attack the avatar of wind.

Perhaps it's because he said the exact wrong thing to the exact wrong person.

But, for every devastating blow, Cyre answers with one of his own. Claw and blade connect and The hurricane twin screams wrathfully, the sound barrier snapping painfully as his claws meet the Adversary's twin blades. Wind and shadow shriek out in twisting streamers of elemental power, waves of force rippling from the point of impact like peals of thunder. With a final blow, Cyre is finally blasted back by the shockwave and reels for a moment as he rises from the debris--

"You're right," the shaman admits, dragging himself from what's left of a shattered pillar. "I am selfish. I am a selfish, caddish man. That's why-- This planet, my home, the people and places that I love--" The tiger takes in a great breath, drawing the holy energies of this sacred place into itself. Sigils lining its arms and legs ignite, glowing with the light of the living world. "What I do for them, I do for me! Of course I'm selfish! I'm greedy! Of course! I'm alive, damnit, of course I'm all of those things! What the hell is wrong with that!? I'll die before I let you take any of them from me!"

The tiger's maw unhinges, brilliant, emerald light pours out from within-- and erupts. Wind greater even than that of a thousand-year storm explodes in a singular, devastating roar, rushing out as if to try and sweep the Adversary from the world in a single, catastrophic word!

GS: Cyre H. Lorentz has spent 4 Combo on Gatling, including 3 on Gatling!
GS: Cyre H. Lorentz has attacked K.K. with Storm Shattering Shout!
GS: Cyre H. Lorentz has completed his action.

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

        Gwen has to remember one thing: the two guardians here (with a lower case g) are in this for real. She may try to reframe it as a hot-blooded battle between ideals and friends, but seeing Beast nearly extinguished right before her is a brutal reminder.

        "Don't be scared," she says, to Beast, to anyone still having doubts. "Do your best. We're all together in this. I'd be more worried if they didn't come at us like this, y'know?" Because it would mean there was something hidden, something potentially deadly whose meaning had yet to be unearthed.

        It could still be that case.

        '.... That if you let everyone benefit from your strength, that you will have enough left for yourself-' The Blue-eyed Assassin Isiris's words persist in Gwen's mind.

        She breathes. "...This is their meaning. Show them yours."

        At the sound of the shaman princess's entrance, Gwen wheels around. "Cecilia?!"

        Unfortunately, Ragnell's mastery of lightning *also* crashes in at that moment, giving Gwen a taste of the very thing that once caused the very system keeping her heart beating to seize. Now, with her face in a grimace of quiet pain, Gwen lets the energy flow through her, willing her ARM to heat up in response. The metallic plates shift; fingers jerk.

        She breathes in, breathes out, and straightens, giving Ragnell a small, sweet smile.

        (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uRESCsC6kx8)

        ".... Now it's my turn."

        With a shout hard enough to crack her voice, Gwen hurls that painful mix of electric energy through her right palm back at Ragnell, pyrite yellow energy snapping at the air as it courses straight at the Seraph.

        If she wasn't confident by now that Ragnell could take everything she had and more, Gwen would likely not even consider this. If they didn't have some knack or connection to the same element (more or less, anyway), Gwen likely wouldn't have been able to turn this build-up of energy around so quickly.

        It still was pretty stupid to try. And extremely painful, on top of that.

GS: Gwen Whitlock has activated a Force Action!
GS: Gwen Whitlock has activated a Force Action!
GS: Gwen Whitlock has spent 3 Combo on Gatling, including 2 on Gatling!
GS: Gwen Whitlock has attacked Seraph Ragnell with Corona Discharge!
GS: Gwen Whitlock has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Gwen Whitlock has completed her action.
GS: CRITICAL! Seraph Ragnell takes a solid hit from Seraph Solanine's Exodeconus for 257 hit points!
GS: Poison! Statuses applied to Seraph Ragnell!
GS: Shield! Statuses applied to Seraph Solanine!
GS: CRITICAL! Seraph Ragnell takes a glancing hit from Gwen Whitlock's Corona Discharge for 112 hit points!
GS: Jam! Statuses applied to Seraph Ragnell!
GS: Hyper! Statuses applied to Gwen Whitlock!
GS: K.K. takes a glancing hit from Cyre H. Lorentz's Storm Shattering Shout for 56 hit points!

<Pose Tracker> Cecilia Adlehyde has posed.

Cecilia finds herself greeted, once by the Trial Knight and again by her...former, friend. Cecilia favors one of them first, though the look she gives Ragnell has none of the warmth she once gave the Seraph. "You've been with me in the places I suffered most, Ragnell," Cecilia says, her voice dull to try not to dredge her own pain. "I thought you knew I don't run away from things that hurt."

Then the Trial Knight releases their power, relentless seething darkness roaring at her. Cecilia squares her feet and cross-bars her staff, a shield of light flickering up around her. The shadows split, scattering to either side, and Cecilia's stance holds, though she feels her skeleton rattle at the force. "What will?" Cecilia demands. "The will to sow mischief and sorrow? The will to bring forth fountains of discord and poison? Is this your grand will, Trial Knight? The will to ensure that every soul on Filgaia, the high and the low, suffer and scream to their utmost? Is this the task to which you commit this impressive will, 'K.K.?'"

She sweeps her staff and the shadow blasts aside, Cecilia already in the midst of whipping out a new Crest, Muse and Muse sparking in the air before her.

"Then I will stop it!" she cries, as the air about her frosts and then crystallizes with a sound like chiming bells, forming together into javelins of ice. "This will of yours is a sickness, and I will end it!"

It rains down, crystalline spears crashing against that blazing light.

GS: Cecilia Adlehyde has attacked K.K. with Freeze Lancer!
GS: Cecilia Adlehyde has gained 2 Combo!
GS: Cecilia Adlehyde has completed her action.
GS: K.K. takes a solid hit from Cecilia Adlehyde's Freeze Lancer for 88 hit points!

<Pose Tracker> Elhaym van Houten has posed.

 
The light improves subtly in the distorted space, but it is not enough to dispel Symbological madness. It helps, though. "... I'm kind of - scared, of that," Elly answers Catenna, before she looks towards where Fei has gotten to.

"I don't think so," she answers Talia. "The Orb, I suppose. Or something like that. If nothing else, we might be able to ambush K.K. and Ragnell if they try to..." She trails off, even as shadow erupts outwards. The shadow intermingles with light in a chiaroscuro that -

Reveals the wizened man directly below them, through a floor grate. He turns his head to look at them. He is materially closer than he was before. This is made all the more clear when he turns another way and the intensity of the Symbological runes increases. Josie, in this case, leaps after him.

Sensibly. Understandably. And it is Josie who gets to go on the HELL RIDE, her fury taking her through pulsing purple walls and along a series of knotted tubes, seeming like she's falling even if she can see, through the corner of her eye, everyone else in crazy quilt patterns, her speed growing as the knot tightens -

Fei emerges with the notes. He starts to fold one up and Elly looks at him and then looks at Ida and she says, "Is that -"

                                "- it?"

Because Ida fires her grapnel hook and whizzes past Talia's head and it moves and the rope makes it extremely clear that space is distorted and it is folding in the wrong direction, the structure only truly visible in the big open central room. Elly says, even as Josie closes in on her father, or her father's shadow - "Were we supposed to-"

The space folds do not advantage the wizened man. He ends up suddenly jerking back.

Into Josie's hand.

The knife stabs inwards.

Inside of the old man - well, you'd expect blood, right? Or perhaps Malevolence. But it turns out that as the knife cuts into the shadow of her forebear, he contains nothing but RADIANCE.

The world shudders like a dropped pudding.

The robe of the old wizard makes the door. It drips light in little patters. Light seems physically similar to blood.

DG: Catenna has drawn a new Challenge.

========================<* Birth of a Wish ~ In The End *>========================
=====================<* CHALLENGE - The Failure That Waits *>=====================
|Type: Climax      |Dungeon Ability: Brute     |Challenge Rating: 3          | 
----------------------------< Challenge Information: >----------------------------
        If you truly wish to cling to such paltry notions as trials,           
               then know this as one where you stand to lose.                  
                                                                               
                                 Everything                                    
                                                                               
 There is a lurch. A sickening twist. You are ejected out of a twisted knot    
 in space.                                                                     
                                                                               
 When you land, it is desolation there to greet you.                           
                                                                               
 By cursory examination, this looks to be somewhere in Elru. The Fallen        
 Sanctuary is nowhere in sight. All is gray. Even the sands have been drained  
 of color until all has become drab. Fallow.                                   
                                                                               
 Dead.                                                                         
                                                                               
 Amidst the cracked and rotting trees, the remains of nomadic tents whip in    
 ragged, sad tatters from their posts, eroded away into nothing from the       
 little they had before. The air is stale.                                     
                                                                               
 Bodies of shaman, drained of color and life, dot the landscape.               
                                                                               
 And with a single suck of fetid air, you see it. You see her.                 
                                                                               
 She is towering. Enough that even Gears might feel insignificant in           
 comparison. She was once angelic. And indeed, there are certainly some parts  
 of her that are, still. Her wings, feathered, stretch out to such             
 magnificent lengths they threaten to blot out the sky. A sword at her side    
 gleams white. Her blonde hair flows in the putrid winds.                      
                                                                               
 But those wings are black, and decorated with countless, blinking eyes of     
 throbbing violets and blues. Her skin is ash white. Her armor, a tattered     
 mockery of her once regal decor. Her sword thrums with malignant will.        
                                                                               
        Malevolence pulses through her veins like it was her lifeblood.              
                                                                               
 This is Raftina. She was the Guardian Lord of Love.                           
                                                                               
 Her right hand stretches towards the heavens. And above, the Silver Star can  
 be seen. Ripped open.                                                         
                                                                               
 Black tendrils, filled with red eyes, spilling out of its desolate surface    
 like yolk from a cracked egg.                                                 
                                                                               
 The tendrils reach out towards the vast gulf of space towards her             
 outstretched hand. You have failed.                                           
                                                                               
 But something isn't right.                                                    
                                                                               
 The sickening beat can still be felt.                                         
                                                                               
 The subtle twisting of space.                                                 
                                                                               
 A weakened point in the fallen Guardian's armor just above her heart shines   
                with peculiar radiance.                                                     
=Dungeon Conditions: Weaken, Madness, Collapse, Suffer, Hesitate==============

<Pose Tracker> Xantia has posed.

K.K. speaks as they always have - as if they know just what to say in order to get under your skin. At least, that's been Xantia's experience. Nothing has changed in that respect, very little has changed as far as she's concerned. As inscrutable as their motivations have been always been, there's rarely been a doubt in her mind that they were an adversary. Making innocent people suffer for seemingly no reason has a way of doing that. This official declaration changes little in her perspective. But that doesn't mean she isn't still curious. Curious about what could possibly possess anyone to go this far.

And the answer she receives is... Love? That's what they carry with them, as they fight towards such destructive ends? She's visibly perplexed, feeling like she understands the concept of love even poorer than she already did.

She has no response. There's a small, subtle decrease in the amount of pressure she exerts against K.K.'s weapon. It's all that's necessary to escape out from under her energy blade, causing Xantia to stumble, her weapon striking the ground and exploding into wisps of red.

And then comes the next blow to her resolve. Purpose. She's never been sure about her purpose - the purpose she used to have. The purpose that she feels is of the greatest importance, lost to her with the rest of her memories. Recent events, which saw an unknown influence force her to act in ways she would normally never act, brutally attacking friend and foe alike, have called this into question all the more. She hasn't just failed to find what her purpose is. She's only managed to get more lost in her search.

Unbalanced both physically and mentally, there is no way Xantia can escape the blades of magical shadow bearing down on her. She never saw it coming, having been far too focused on what was directly in front of her. A common flaw, for which she pays a steep price.

Black blades shear downwards, piercing directly through her body. The armor that she thought would protect her does nothing against this. There's no blood, no visible wound, but the sensation, the pain... it certainly does feel as if she were just bisected. She manages only a strained gurgle, before she slumps forward, instantly collapsing.


Darkness. A vague sense of comfort. You did your best. You can rest now.

She pushes back against it. She doesn't want to rest. She wants to do more. To help her friends. The people of Filgaia. So many people she'd be letting down.

Not for the first time, a voice echoes in her mind.

"Remember your importance. You are Filgaia's hope... my child."

Why? What does that mean? What am I supposed to do?

She wasn't expecting an answer. She never gets any answers. This time is different.

"To turn yesterday's tears into tomorrow's smiles... my sole wish was for a return to the days when this was all we collectively strived for. It is that hope, my hope, that I wish for you to carry forward."

<Pose Tracker> Xantia has posed.
<SoundTracker> Ys Seven - Crossing Rage - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tA7OjqnCMGI

A sudden convulsion, and a gasp for air herald Xantia's return to the conscious world. Though already she struggles to hold on to what she heard just now, unsure if that was even real or her mind playing tricks, there's nothing that isn't real about the renewed sense of resolve she feels. Just like that, she's back up on her feet. Despite what just happened to her, she feels strong. Strong enough to take on anyone. Strong enough to make a difference. And so, she whirls about, to once again face...

"...K.K.!!"

Flames burst from her body, a fiery aura springing forth, borne of her renewed spirit - her fervent wish to protect the world, and everything in it.

Her speed is incomparable to the speed at which she moved before. That's because her feet are no longer touching the ground. Propelled by Etheric force, she is as a living flame, diving through the air directly for the Trial Knight - the Adversary, as they are now known. Both hands outstretched, she seeks an impact with her fists at full force. Enough force to cause a massive detonation.

Xantia herself is unaffected by this, merely launched backwards, landing on her feet, the burning aura yet remaining. She raises a fist in defiance.

"Who cares about your purpose!? What you're doing isn't right! People like us, people with power... We have a responsibility to protect the people who don't! To keep them smiling, even when things look bad! I will NOT let you cause any more suffering!"

It's not exactly a big epiphany. But... this is who Xantia is, right now. And that's just fine with her.

GS: Xantia has activated a Force Action!
GS: Xantia has spent 5 Combo on Gatling, including 4 on Gatling!
GS: Xantia has attacked K.K. with Exploding Fist!
GS: Xantia has completed her action.
GS: K.K. takes a glancing hit from Xantia's Exploding Fist for 47 hit points!

<Pose Tracker> Catenna has posed.

"I don't think we can plan for something this spiritual," Catenna admits as the silver light follows after Talia, the Shaman quickly following her. "All we can do is be ready to push with all our hearts to reach the Orb and end it...."

However we do that, part of her reflects. She forces the thought out and replaces it with a better one. We MUST do it. Filgaia depends on us all. We must defeat the trial--

                if you truly wish to cling to such paltry notions as trials
        then know this as one where you stand to lose

                        everything

Existence lurches. Catenna gasps as the void opens up beneath them all. The knot of space unwinds itself. Darkness rushes past - and then, dry, hard turf.

Catenna hits it with a thud and a groan. Grey dust billows up around her, then settles. With a soft groan, the Moon Shaman pulls herself to her knees, then to her feet, beginning to take stock of where we are.

"This," she says with a cold, stunned breath.

The landscape would be familiar if it hadn't died away like everything else. Grey death, cracked and drab, stretches off to the horizon - and yet for her, the immediacy is here. In the skeletons of nomadic tents by the dried, starved gutter of what was once the river she remembers weeping by in her younger years. The tattered fringes of those tents billow unheard in a stale wind that carries no life.

They are not the only tatters. There are the bodies. Grey, mostly, strewn everywhere, as if fallen where they fell. Her eyes wide, Catenna moves to kneel near one.

The mask on the fallen figure's face is unmistakeable. Red and black lines over white show through the dust. Most of them are dressed this way. They wear the same style of gi Catenna wore earlier. They wear the same style of mask. They carry the same style of iron claw. A few beasts lie dead among them, huge bears and ogres and birds of prey--

A griffon, a body sprawled at the beast's side. Catenna's blood goes cold as she walks over to that shape, knowing already what she will find as she kneels to look into the empty eyes of a grey, dead figure, unmasked. The dead woman's features are tellingly angular. Tears stand in Catenna's eyes.

"Riima," she whispers, torturously conflicted feelings winding themselves into a furious knot of despair and regret and old pain from older scars. "Akash.... Mother and father...."

A gust of charnel air whispers past. Two tears trace down the grey dust clinging to Catenna's cheeks as she looks up.

The figure looms above them - towering, angelic. Or perhaps once angelic. Her wings stretch out for leagues, threatening to blot out a sky pregnant with the grey clouds of mourning. But their plumage is not white. And her skin is not lively.

"Raftina," Catenna says, her voice pinched in her throat as she gazes upon the Hellion that was the Guardian Lord of Love. Her voice could be mistaken for stoic if not for the terrified thinness of it all.

The Guardian raises her hand. The sky itself parts. Overhead, the Silver Star has been torn open by black tendrils choked with red eyes that spill from its surface - and they reach out towards the Hellion Guardian.

        Then we're too late. The feeling sinks into Catenna's stomach like a rock.

<No,> comes the quieter voice from Catenna's shoulder. Saarda-Shanta. No, more than that. Celesdue's Totem. <Look.>

In the darkness... there's light. It shines through the Hellion Raftina's armour, just above her heart.

Dashing her tears away with the swipe of a hand, Catenna lets the body of her sister slouch back to earth. "This won't be the fate of Filgaia," Her voice is choked with emotion, but simple, profound fire is beginning to stoke itself again, burning behind it like a single spark of faith. "What we said to your flame still holds true. Love is inexhaustible - and the things I love have too much left to give for me to accept this, Adversary Knight."

Catenna dashes forward. The Guardian Lord's hand stretches towards heaven to gather those silken threads of hell - but Catenna doesn't give her the time. She rushes straight across the landscape and leaps towards her as long and as far as she possibly can -

And in mid-flight, there is a shimmer.

Huge white wings unfurl, a ray of light in this dead land. The Owl on Catenna's shoulder is small no more - and she clings to the Great Bird's back as she soars towards Raftina. Towards that light.

"All we can do is follow the light of love...!"

DG: Catenna has contributed a Brute Basic Action toward her party's challenge, The Failure That Waits.

<Pose Tracker> Talia has posed.

"It's good enough for me," Talia says. "Maybe if we can destroy the orb or--something. I don't know. Maybe... that will get rid of it, no?" And then the world will be saved, and Ragnell will be forced to run, and she won't have to worry about how this might play out. She manages to duck to the side -- the grappling hook hits near her without punching through her skull.

Talia breathes a sigh of relief, before she looks up at Josie. She hears the way she screams -- and she knows that sort of anger. That sort of scream. She remembers screaming at Lubov that way, for all the good it ever did. Talia glances away, and only realizes belatedly that her fingers are shaking when she does.

Light blooms from Josie's strike, and engulfs Talia. As she blinks the light from her eyes, she looks up to find herself facing a Guardian Lord. Talia stares, slack-jawed, at the sight of such a thing corrupted by Malevolence. Her fingers, which had been wrapped firmly about Mirage's hilt, slacken too. The Divine Artifact clatters unceremoniously to the blasted ground, and Talia takes a long moment to find her composure. She forces herself to her feet, scooping Mirage up as she does. Her red eyes lift, to look at whatever happened to the Guardian Lord of Love. "This thing... it is not real, no?"

She takes a step forward, then another, and looks up at the little spot on the Guardian Lord's armor. She tries to not look at the Silver Star, where it has been torn open; where red eyes blink back at her. She tries, very hard, to not look at that.

Winds begin to whip about Talia, as she holds a hand over her head. She foregoes an audible incantation, but she isn't silent. "It isn't looking good, Ammy," she mutters to herself. "I sounded so brave, no? But... hopefully this will be good enough."

The wind whips around her, harder and harder. Her hair snaps out to the side, and a magical circle explodes up underneath her feet, before she thrusts an open palm straight towards the thing that used to be Raftina. A huge block of ice explodes off it, flying free -- and maybe true -- up for where that light is.

"Glacier Crash!"

DG: Talia has contributed a Brute Basic Action toward her party's challenge, The Failure That Waits.

<Pose Tracker> Ida Everstead-Rey has posed.

        Ida looks forwards, and sees the old man just as Josephine falls on him. She looks down at them, her eyes widening as the knife plunges into his chest. Seeing them together, even if only for a moment, is eerie. Ida can see parts of the old man's face in Josie's.

        The world turns itself inside-out. Ida closes her eyes, clenches her teeth, and swallows as sick heat floods up into the back of her throat. She hits the ground, skids, and curls up on her right side, pain shooting through her arm. She sucks in a breath, and the taste of the air is enough to make her gag again. Ida's eyes snap open.

        "No."

        Ida's voice is a dry creak. Her mouth moves, but no further sound comes out of it--her eyes scan the earth, the horizon, the sky, but there is nothing to provide succor. It's dead. All of it is dead. There wasn't even a struggle, like they said there'd be, where all the faithful stand behind Lord Granas, a single bulwark of goodness, because Lord Granas is a lie told to children, and this is real, it's happening, and you thought you wouldn't fail, like you always do--

        The Orb pulses. Ida feels it all the way down to her bones. She looks over at Catenna, and past her, at the bodies. Were those--yes. That was the same style of mask. Relief and terror boil up in Ida's heart in equal amounts. She wants to laugh and cry at once. She turns to Talia, swallows. "It's not," she says. "But it will be, if we fail." Ida pulls Devil's Due from its holster. She raises it at the glowing spot in Raftina's armor, sucks in a breath, and pulls the trigger.

        Flame and chi race from the ARM's barrel with a thunderous roar. The plume of fire leaps across the intervening distance, burning through the fetid air.

DG: Ida Everstead-Rey has contributed a Brute Basic Action toward her party's challenge, The Failure That Waits.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Ragnell has posed.

        "Admittedly, findin' it wasn't exactly *easy*, Clary," Ragnell responds to the Light Seraph. "Not after everything that went down. But I found 'em all, eventually. I think I told Amms the story--so if you survive tonight, try askin' her about it." And if she didn't, well, maybe there'll be other opportunities for the former teammates to speak of things long past. That, though, Ragnell keeps to herself. They're in mixed company, after all.
        
        Due to her vast personal experience with the matter, Lemina criticizes Ragnell for speaking of no hard feelings when she's the jerk here. "What, so you want me to be mad at you, Lems?" she drawls back, eyebrows rising at the littlest sorceress who could. "If you wanna hold a grudge against *me*, go ahead. I ain't stoppin' ya."
        
        Jean has another take on the matter. Ragnell chuckles. "You an' I did have a different sort of relationship." Jean spins in, whirling her foot around in a kick as she blows her a kiss--and as that kick strikes, Ragnell twirls with her, then grabs her by the waist and does her one better: she dips her down low, lips pressing on Jean's. Why throw a kiss when you can deliver it yourself?
        
        "But yeah," she whispers. "Everything ends, one way or another." And so they part, Ragnell's fingertips lingering on Jean's waist as they fall apart.
        
        And it's good they *do* part. Lanval booms with joyous laughter and sends a Water Wheel whirling Ragnell's way. "My joy hath been long at a remove," she calls back in a what might be surprising use of archaic language, even as the aqua magica blasts into her in a torrential wave. "What joy that remains, if it be lasting, cannot be found amongst mortal kin!"

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Ragnell has posed.

        Then the liquid envelopes her. Lemina takes this opportunity to rake at Ragnell with her ice claws, but the water cracks them, makes them a bit less effective than they'd normally be, by the time they cut through and strike Ragnell. The Lightning Seraph uses that momentum to burst free, leaving both spells to dissipate in her wake. She smiles grimly at Cecilia, shaking off the water. "I did know that," she replies. "That's why I was worried 'bout you bein' so late. It'd be a shame if you'd ended up broken when you've still got so much more left ahead o' you." Her tone is curiously neutral there. If Ragnell means that mockingly or sincerely, it's impossible to tell. Cecilia will probably draw her own conclusions regardless.
        
        Ceimglace dances at her then to snap another kick, and Ragnell flows with the motion, taking the hit and rolling with it, more than happy to tango with Ceimglace as she did Jean. She even smirks at her as they part, wondering, "What, did you want a kiss too, Ceim?"
        
        That same fluid motion gets her past Gwen's sweet smile and the massive orb of electricity she fires, not quite clean but good enough for government work--but Gwen and Ceimglace's accidental-or-on-purpose coordination put Ragnell in the way of Solanine's sword swipe, which CLEAVES down the Lightning Seraph with enormous force. She snarls with pain, forced backwards, clutching at her chest in the wake of the injuries she's sustained.
        
        "...Nice. Y'all had me really dancin' to the tune o' your music," she remarks. She shoots a look towards the gate and the wards over the Anomalous Orb, which have almost entirely peeled away by now. Her eyes narrow, and she raises her voice: "Then I guess it's time to get *really* serious. K.K.! I'll soften 'em up for ya, so make sure you finish the job, yeah?!"

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Ragnell has posed.

        Then she raises an arm, bursting with magic force, and a great, golden light flashes. A Seraphic glyph, gold at the center and trailing indigo out towards the edges, envelopes the entire floor; it hums, *vibrates* with power, and sends that power building up.
        
        "I, who stand in the full light of the Heavens..."
        
        And up. And up, and up, and *up*, building more and more upon itself, glyphs forming along the way like scaffolds to secure the integrity of the arte, until at least a matching glyph appears at the top--far beyond where the ceiling *ought* to be, as if this magic somehow transcended physical reality to reach into the heart of the atmosphere.
        
        "...Command thee, who opens the gates to Hell."
        
        A great, swollen thunderhead connects to the top, and its innards flash once, twice.
        
        "Come forth, divine lightning!"
        
        A cut-in vision of Ragnell flashes before everyone's eyes, that feathered hat tilted up, poncho whipping in the wind, her blood-red eyes vivid, fang-white grin long and sharp.
        
        "Y'all ready t' die?" she drawls, winking.
        
        Then the skies *split* as a massive lightning bolt TEARS down along the directing glyphs, branching like a great World Tree from top to bottom. Its immense force is inescapable. All one can do is pray for a miracle, for the gods have already given their leave.
        
                        "I N D I G N A T I O N !"

<Pose Tracker> Josephine Lovelace has posed.

        Perhaps in another moment she would have paused, reloaded her ARM, and proceeded a little more prudently. For her, at least.
        Prudent is in this moment however far and away from anything Josephine Lovelace is capable of towards her father. It doesn't matter how space bends. It doesn't matter how the sorcerous knot coils in on itself. It doesn't matter how long she must run or how far.

        This emotion is powerful too, even in the space of its opposite. She reaches him -- his doppelganger his shadow -- and with a knife...

        Radiance drips onto the floor, coats her blade. She draws back, staring at it as if dumbfound, and then, staring up...

        Finds her gaze meeting a grey dead sky. The bottom instantly drops out from even her burning fury, unsated by mere patricide.

        "...What...?" she hazards. The knife falls from her grasp.

        if you truly wish to cling to such paltry notions as trials

        I've had enough of trials.

        Her feelings on the matter, perhaps, are of a minor concern.

        "...Oh," she says simply, taking a loping, staggering step backwards as her gaze settles on the figure looming overhead.
        Her.
        "Oh."

        No scream. No shout of anger. Just a quiet realization as her gaze tracks up at last past what-was-the-Guardian-of-Love, and upwards into the sky.

        "..."

        "Sorry, sis."

        And it's into that moment of quiet despair that the bird, until now hunched low against her shoulder -- through all of this -- squirms up alongside Josephine's ear and delivers a bite that draws blood.

        A pained shout slips her lips. But it's centering.

        It's not real.
        Yet.

        "Tch," Josie hisses, a bead of blood slicking down her neck. "Yeah. It's not real. Not yet." She reaches for her belt, for the tool there slung. "C'mon. Let's give it one last go before we throw in the towel, kids."

        And she grins, even if the expression doesn't match her eyes. "Right?"

        Just once, she tests the weight of the ancient, well-used mattock, queen of the archaeologist's toolset, in her hand.

        Before slinging it heavenwards, as if she could somehow hit the Guardian with it from here. If ever there was a time for a miracle...

DG: Josephine Lovelace has used her Tool Well-Used Mattock toward her party's challenge, The Failure That Waits.

GS: Seraph Ragnell has activated a Force Action!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has activated a Force Action!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has activated a Force Action!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has spent 5 Combo on Gatling, including 4 on Gatling!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has attacked Xantia with Indignation!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has attacked Cecilia Adlehyde with Indignation!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has attacked Gwen Whitlock with Indignation!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has attacked Cyre H. Lorentz with Indignation!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has attacked Seraph Solanine with Indignation!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has attacked Seraph Ceimglace with Indignation!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has attacked Seraph Beast with Indignation!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has attacked Elvis with Indignation!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has attacked Seraph Clarine with Indignation!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has attacked Seraph Lanval with Indignation!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has attacked Chime Isa with Indignation!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has attacked Lemina Ausa with Indignation!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has attacked Jean with Indignation!
GS: CRITICAL! Cyre H. Lorentz takes a glancing hit from Seraph Ragnell's Indignation for 130 hit points!
GS: Hyper! Statuses applied to Seraph Ragnell!
GS: Cyre H. Lorentz enters CONDITION GREEN!!
GS: CRITICAL! Seraph Clarine critically Guards a hit from Seraph Ragnell's Indignation for 51 hit points!
GS: Hyper! Statuses applied to Seraph Ragnell!
GS: Seraph Clarine has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has lost 1 Combo!
GS: CRITICAL! Elvis critically Guards a hit from Seraph Ragnell's Indignation for 50 hit points!
GS: Hyper! Statuses applied to Seraph Ragnell!
GS: Elvis enters CONDITION GREEN!!
GS: Elvis has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has lost 1 Combo!
GS: Lemina Ausa guards a hit from Seraph Ragnell's Indignation for 133 hit points!
GS: CRITICAL! Xantia critically Guards a hit from Seraph Ragnell's Indignation for 45 hit points!
GS: Hyper! Statuses applied to Seraph Ragnell!
GS: Xantia enters CONDITION GREEN!!
GS: Xantia has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has lost 1 Combo!
GS: Jean has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has lost 1 Combo!

DC: MISS! Jean completely evades Indignation from Seraph Ragnell!

GS: Seraph Solanine guards a hit from Seraph Ragnell's Indignation for 193 hit points!
GS: Seraph Solanine enters CONDITION GREEN!!
GS: Chime Isa has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has lost 1 Combo!

DC: MISS! Chime Isa completely evades Indignation from Seraph Ragnell!

GS: CRITICAL! Gwen Whitlock guards a hit from Seraph Ragnell's Indignation for 146 hit points!
GS: Hyper! Statuses applied to Seraph Ragnell!
GS: CRITICAL! Seraph Beast guards a hit from Seraph Ragnell's Indignation for 230 hit points!
GS: Hyper! Statuses applied to Seraph Ragnell!
GS: Seraph Beast has Fallen! She is no longer able to fight!

<Pose Tracker> Elhaym van Houten has posed.

 

                                everything

They emerge into a desolate plain. The air smells rank, breathless. Elly blinks several times as she looks round. The realm is dead. The place is murdered. The dead are without number. Sorrow fills her heart quietly, the shock of spatial distortion muting her emotion for a moment, or at least, her emoting.

Then SHE looms.

The clouds move aside and reveal the cracked and bleeding planetary body in the sky. Elly feels herself shake a little, mouth going dry as she goes through sorrow, through anger, through despair, to - to something else, something that comes upon her so quick that she is reminded of the collision of Gears against Gears, because nothing else can truly compare.

She is numb for a second, even as Talia rallies her magic.

Catenna denies things. So does Ida.

Elly looks at her feet again. "... were we too slow?" she asks, inaudibly.

Her eyes close.

Then she shifts round and reaches into her bag.

"This is... a familiar sort of feeling... I wonder why it is," Elly says, as she fishes out a sheet of paper. It is good, thick sketching paper. Elly gazes, in the light of the dead Moon and the looming violet-and-blue lights on what was once Raftina, on the sketch. It's of herself, which is a little embarrassing, a muted little quiver. She recognizes it, though. Eating ice cream with a wooden spoon while sitting on a bench in Filgaia. When she was still playing pretend.

"I'm not sure," Elly says, as she begins to crease the paper, "why it's familiar."

"... I don't know if I have any more anger left in me," Elly says as she creases the paper again. "If this is... some kind of a shadow... even Gears would just make it last longer. Sometimes, I guess, there isn't any hope."

"But," Elly says, as she folds the paper a third and a fourth time, "even if it's all true."

"Even if we were too slow, and we lost. Even if the future was blighted, or torn asunder. Even if nothing's come of everything here. Even if the Emperor's rotting in his seat and the planet's dying and - and things aren't -"

Elly shakes her head once, the improvised wrapped-up bun bobbling a little.

"We WERE here," Elly says. "No matter what."

"Even if it was just for a little while - our love existed...!"

Elly draws back her right hand and hurls the paper airplane at the Guardian.

She slumps a little afterwards. I wish we were still on vacation, Elly thinks.

DG: Elhaym van Houten has used her Tool Inventory Clutter toward her party's challenge, The Failure That Waits.

GS: Seraph Ceimglace has activated a Force Action!
GS: CRITICAL! Seraph Ceimglace takes a glancing hit from Seraph Ragnell's Indignation for 208 hit points!
GS: Hyper! Statuses applied to Seraph Ragnell!
GS: Seraph Ceimglace has Fallen! She is no longer able to fight!
GS: Seraph Lanval takes a solid hit from Seraph Ragnell's Indignation for 242 hit points!
GS: Cecilia Adlehyde has activated a Force Action!
GS: Cecilia Adlehyde critically Guards a hit from Seraph Ragnell's Indignation for 43 hit points!
GS: Cecilia Adlehyde has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has lost 1 Combo!

<Pose Tracker> Fei Fong Wong has posed.

"I dunno, I thought we were supposed to get this?" Fei asks before Josie murders her dad. He stares for a moment at her.

He blinks a few times, as if confused. "Hey... Josie... Can I ask you something?" He rests his hand on his face. "Why is it that I feel this way...?" He murmurs. "I feel...."

Jealous? That's so strange. Why is he jealous? He's not even sure himself.

It's then he sees it. He sees her. She is so large. She is so beautiful. Her wings threaten to blot out the sky. Is this the future?

Is this...the now?

Is this...K.K's goal?

He looks up. He looks up. He looks up up up up until he sees her face. He makes a, "Nhh!!" sound as he sees the face. He sees her long black hair. He sees her dispassionate glare. He sees the string hanging around Raftina's neck.

He sees this: https:'vignette.wikia.nocookie.netxenosagaimages771Karen.png

BGM INTERRUPT: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3kR9fpnDCh0

He thought he was stronger. He thought he had accepted his flaws but he sees this face and Fei falls flat on his ass. For a moment it seems like that he might just be at awe at seeing the true scope the true size the true might of a Guardian.

Why does love have a sword?
Because a Love that won't get angry, that won't fight when those you care about are hurting and dying..."

Fei squeezes his eyes shut. This was a mistake. "Gnhh....Ghahaahhkkk!!" He cries out. "Why...!?"

A cross pwings across the horizon, invading the vision of the Guardian as if someone else's memory is invading this particular challenge. It is astronomical in size. You feel that if that cross slams into this planet, it will rip it apart

Fei squints his eyes even more tightly closed.

He sees it.

A small boy appears near Elly, holding her hand. Actually, maybe he was always there. He is calm, but there is a look in his eyes there. "It was you..." He whispers, not to Elly, but to ... someone else. Only then does he look up to Elly, "Your responses have been catalogued. You missed this one."

Memory of a Room - Exploration - 4 - Wits - Vault

You are working on an experiment. Your supervisor is watching you from behind a window. They expect results. The future of humanity can depend on your success here.

You take a needle, you inject it into the creature and deposit its contents into their bloodstream. You study its pupil dilation and you ask it some questions. It answers in howls and shrieks. It does not struggle against its bonds.

A subject is brought in. Others have been brought in before but they did not survive the experiment. You don't think this one will either. You don't ask for their name. They reach out towards the creature before suddenly crumpling to the floor like a broken doll.

You find yourself grimacing. The experiment is a difficult one.

But when you look back to the creature, suddenly its eyes are looking straight at you. It sees you.

It sees you.

It gurgles at you insistently.

You...could loosen its bonds. You could even bust a hole through that glass window, help it escape.

But that would mean the end of the experiment and if the creature doesn't thank you by killing you, then your supervisor certainly will.

Or they will just make you the next experiment.

Raftina gonna leave you
Gonna fill your heart with tears

Fei screams and writhes in the air. "WHY?! WHY WON'T YOU SAVE ME!? WHY WON'T YOU SAVE ME!?!?" He screams in a fit of madness. "WHY AREN'T YOU GETTING MAD?! WHY AREN'T YOU FIGHTING?! WHY ARE YOU JUST WATCHING!?!?"

Energy erupts out of his body, flashing around in several tight tendrils--the same technique Fei had used against Siegfried during the Battle of the Photosphere.

But this time there is no Siegfried. The blasts don't reach Raftina either.

Instead they turn inward, towards Fei, threatening to subsume him whole.

"WHY!? WHY!? WHY!?" He shrieks.

In this moment, he is wholly blind to Elly's presence.

I wish we were still on vacation too

The world ending cross tumbles from the heavens.

DG: Fei Fong Wong has used his Tool Mother's Cross toward his party's challenge, The Failure That Waits.

========================<* Birth of a Wish ~ In The End *>========================
=====================<* CHALLENGE - The Failure That Waits *>=====================
|Type: Climax      |Dungeon Ability: Brute     |Challenge Rating: 3          | 
----------------------------< Challenge Information: >----------------------------
        If you truly wish to cling to such paltry notions as trials,           
               then know this as one where you stand to lose.                  
                                                                               
                                 Everything                                    
                                                                               
 There is a lurch. A sickening twist. You are ejected out of a twisted knot    
 in space.                                                                     
                                                                               
 When you land, it is desolation there to greet you.                           
                                                                               
 By cursory examination, this looks to be somewhere in Elru. The Fallen        
 Sanctuary is nowhere in sight. All is gray. Even the sands have been drained  
 of color until all has become drab. Fallow.                                   
                                                                               
 Dead.                                                                         
                                                                               
 Amidst the cracked and rotting trees, the remains of nomadic tents whip in    
 ragged, sad tatters from their posts, eroded away into nothing from the       
 little they had before. The air is stale.                                     
                                                                               
 Bodies of shaman, drained of color and life, dot the landscape.               
                                                                               
 And with a single suck of fetid air, you see it. You see her.                 
                                                                               
 She is towering. Enough that even Gears might feel insignificant in           
 comparison. She was once angelic. And indeed, there are certainly some parts  
 of her that are, still. Her wings, feathered, stretch out to such             
 magnificent lengths they threaten to blot out the sky. A sword at her side    
 gleams white. Her blonde hair flows in the putrid winds.                      
                                                                               
 But those wings are black, and decorated with countless, blinking eyes of     
 throbbing violets and blues. Her skin is ash white. Her armor, a tattered     
 mockery of her once regal decor. Her sword thrums with malignant will.        
                                                                               
        Malevolence pulses through her veins like it was her lifeblood.              
                                                                               
 This is Raftina. She was the Guardian Lord of Love.                           
                                                                               
 Her right hand stretches towards the heavens. And above, the Silver Star can  
 be seen. Ripped open.                                                         
                                                                               
 Black tendrils, filled with red eyes, spilling out of its desolate surface    
 like yolk from a cracked egg.                                                 
                                                                               
 The tendrils reach out towards the vast gulf of space towards her             
 outstretched hand. You have failed.                                           
                                                                               
 But something isn't right.                                                    
                                                                               
 The sickening beat can still be felt.                                         
                                                                               
 The subtle twisting of space.                                                 
                                                                               
 A weakened point in the fallen Guardian's armor just above her heart shines   
                with peculiar radiance.                                                     
=Dungeon Conditions: Weaken, Madness, Collapse, Suffer, Hesitate==============

===================<* Birth of a Wish ~ In The End - Round 4 *>===================
=======================< Results - The Failure That Waits >=======================
Player                               Exhaustion                      Pass/Fail
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ida Everstead-Rey                   15 --(20)--> 35                Fail
Force                               0   Brute   Effects: BASIC                
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Catenna                             15 --(20)--> 35                Fail
Force                               0   Brute   Effects: BASIC                
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Josephine Lovelace                  15 --(20)--> 35                Fail
Well-Used Mattock                   2   Brute   Effects: Strengthen           
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Talia                               15 --(20)--> 35                Fail
Force                               0   Brute   Effects: BASIC                
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Fei Fong Wong                       15 --(15)--> 30                Pass
Mother's Cross                      4   Brute   Effects: None                 
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Elhaym van Houten                   15 --(20)--> 35                Fail
Inventory Clutter                   1   Brute   Effects: Cleanse              
------------------------------------< Party >-------------------------------------
Leader: Ida Everstead-Rey           90 --(0)--> 90                 Fail
Conditions: Collapse|Hesitate(2)|Madness|Overwhelm|Suffer(1)|Weaken(2)
Effects: Cleanse|Strengthen(1)
================================< Dream Chasers >=================================

DG: The party led by Ida Everstead-Rey has failed this challenge! The party gained 0 exploration! If anyone needs to use
party management commands, do so now. Otherwise, the next round's GM may begin the next round with +dungeon/draw.
DG: Fei Fong Wong has drawn a new Challenge.

======================<* Birth of a Wish ~ In The End *>======================
=======================<* CHALLENGE - In The End... *>========================
|Type: Final       |Dungeon Ability: Wits      |Challenge Rating: 2          | 
--------------------------< Challenge Information: >--------------------------
 The putrid heart of the fallen Raftina shatters. And so too shatters the      
 twisted knot of a doomed world, the skies and lands crumbling like glass      
 struck through by a rock.                                                     
                                                                               
 The Anomalous Orb pulses powerfully as that penultimate ward dissolves. It    
 DRAGS you in towards the dissolving landscape.                                
                                                                               
 You feel the knot of space before everything becomes darkness.                
                                                                               
 There is strength in numbers. Strength in friendship. Strength in bonds. But  
 sometimes...                                                                  
                                                                               
 ... strength must come from oneself, and oneself alone.                       
                                                                               
 There is nothing. No one there. No voices to greet you. None of your          
 companions to hear you. You are alone. Adrift, in emptiness. Drawn further    
 and further in, until...                                                      
                                                                               
                                     Ida                                       
                                                                               
                   I AM THE CRIME THAT CANNOT BE FORGIVEN                      
                                                                               
 Ida awakens to an endless hall of mirrors. Each a different size, each a      
 different shape.                                                              
                                                                               
 Each reflecting something different.                                          
                                                                               
 At first, it is reflections of her. Ida as a child, full of wonder and awe    
 at the sight of the Dragon Boneyard. Ida, older, prepared to make a name for  
 herself. Ida, beset by self-doubt and envy. And more, and more, different     
 facets of the same woman. Further still, the mirrors stop reflecting her.     
 Instead, they begin to reflect her failings. The things she inflicted upon    
 others in her anger. The violence. Glimpses of Castle Rabenstein. The         
 Furies. An Earthpulse. A mirror...                                            
                                                                               
 ... and at the very end of the hall waits the Umbral Mirror. Reflecting Ida,  
 hellionized, full of cold rage, the furnace within her burning.               
                                                                               
 "Look at what YOU'VE DONE."                                                   
                                                                               
 Screaming words prefacing a dark hand lurching out of the wobbling grasp of   
 the mirror, gripping to try to drag her into its depths.                      
                                                                               
                                   Catenna                                     
                                                                               
                    I AM THE FATE THAT CANNOT BE DETERRED                      
                                                                               
 Catenna finds herself back in that familiar wilderness on the fringes of      
 Elesius. It still lives here, for a certain value of living. The sight of     
 crackling fires lie beyond. The warmth of home's temporary hearth, ever on    
 the fringes of the ones who now occupy their old home.                        
                                                                               
 The sound of something hitting the ground. A body, landed in a crouch. They   
 rise, wearing a gi that obscures their form, an angry mask that hides their   
 face. Claws glint in their hand.                                              
                                                                               
 Another falls. And another. Another. Another and another and another. All of  
 them wearing masks. All of them bearing claws. All of them hostile, as if     
 Catenna was not recognized. Was not welcome.                                  
                                                                               
 They lunge. They grasp. They are endless. They try to grip and drag her down  
 into the mass of faceless bodies. To become one of them -- or be unmade.      
                                                                               
                                    Talia                                      
                                                                               
                  I AM THE PUNISHMENT THAT CANNOT BE OUTRUN                    
                                                                               
 There is blood on her hands. So much blood. It stains them red as if they     
 could never be cleaned.                                                       
                                                                               
 Before her, a silhouette of an older man, and a younger. A man's familiar     
 voice.                                                                        
                                                                               
 "I do not have room for two mistakes."                                        
                                                                               
 The older man leads the younger away, to someplace dark. Someplace terrible.  
 The younger spares a single glance back at Talia, and then he walks. If she   
 tries to reach them, she will find others holding her back. Men, women.       
 Young, old. Familiar faces. Faces of victims. Weighing her down.              
                                                                               
 A pair of hands on her shoulders. A woman's voice, also familiar.             
                                                                               
 "What right do you have to save anyone,                                       
  with all that blood on your hands?"                                          
                                                                               
                                  Josephine                                    
                                                                               
                   I AM THE PAST THAT WILL NOT BE ESCAPED                      
                                                                               
 A small house. Simple, but warm. It is Josephine's. It hasn't stood in        
 years. But it does now. Just like she remembered it. Frozen in a perfect      
 slice of time. The weather is spring, warm. Full of life. The smell of        
 cooking fills the air.                                                        
                                                                               
 At a dining table, another woman waits with a small smile. She looks          
 similar. Younger, but not by much. She waits for Josephine to tell her the    
 story of her latest job.                                                      
                                                                               
 Outside, a fire burns away at the fields, at earth and rock and towns and     
 cities. It spreads everywhere but that house. Destroying everything.          
 Everyone. Friends. Family. Memories.                                          
                                                                               
 Everyone but the two women in this perfect slice of time one could just       
 drown in.                                                                     
                                                                               
                                     Fei                                       
                                                                               
                    I AM THE SYSTEM THAT CANNOT BE UNDONE                      
                                                                               
 Fei sits in an office building. The architecture looks vaguely modern, but    
 hard to place. There is no style like it that exists in this era in anything  
 save desolated ruins.                                                         
                                                                               
 Fei is filing paperwork. Documents and proposals. Another Fei enters. Takes   
 it. Looks it through. Stamps 'DENIED' across its surface. Hands him a new     
 set of paperwork. Walks away.                                                 
                                                                               
 In the office beyond, there are other Feis. Countless others. Different       
 hairstyles. Different expressions. Personalities. But they are all him. All   
 the him that came before. All his immediate supervisors. Shaping what he can  
 do, what he can say, what he can be. The windows leading outside show         
 glimpses of what Fei's body perceives. An endless dark. A twisted not of      
 space shining with peculiar radiance. But he cannot reach out and take it.    
 Not without approval from his immediate supervisors, of course.               
                                                                               
 A cog in a machine far bigger than he will ever be--                          
                                                                               
                                   Elhaym                                      
                                                                               
                    I AM THE NATURE THAT CANNOT BE DENIED                      
                                                                               
 Heat dries at Elly's eyes the instant they begin to crack open. The ground    
 beneath her is craggy and parched. The skies featureless and indistinct. The  
 strange smell of laboratory sanitation, sterile and chemical, fills her       
 nostrils.                                                                     
                                                                               
 Beyond the heated smudge of her blurred vision, she'll find she's not alone.  
                                                                               
                                                                               
 She has herself to keep her company.                                          
                                                                               
 Elhaym Van Houtan, dressed in full Gebler regalia. Blood splatters decorate   
 the pristine white of her Solaris garb. Smears across her cheek. Decorates    
 the corner of her smiling lips. Her eyes are wide, delighted.                 
                                                                               
 She sits on a pile of bodies. Ida... Catenna... Talia... Josephine.......     
 Fei.                                                                          
                                                                               
 "This is us," she explains, matter-of-factly. "You're pathetic. Why try to    
 deny what we can be?" Her voice warbles. Grows tinny.                         
                                                                               
 "If you refuse to understand us, maybe I should take charge."                 
                                                                               
 Her right hand rises. Anomalous force explodes from one ether-infused palm    
 in a tremendous lash of plasmic heat. It will burn everything. Scour Elly to  
 ash. Burn away the surface of the planet. Scorch everyone who ever stood in   
 her way or made her feel small. And she turns the focused totality of a       
 star, unbridled and unleashed --                                              
                                                                               
 --on herself.                                                                 
                                                                               
 ---                                                                           
                                                                               
 Space twists. Turns. Knots. In the dark, there is a peculiar radiance. Do     
 you have the strength on your own?                                            
                                                                               
 fight                                                                         
=Dungeon Conditions: S

<Pose Tracker> K.K. has posed.

"... There is a time for subtlety, and a time for directness both, scholar."

Shadow glides across light, a dance of opposites as the one who calls themself Adversary pivots upon one boot in the aftermath of their coming to blows with Cyre. Shot for shot traded. Shot for shot deterred.

For some reason, one gets a palpable sense of satisfaction as they rise from their landing crouch.

And as they do, they face Elvis fully. Directly. Even as war wages all around them.

Even as Ragnell faces her own private battles.

Their faith in her is as absolute as their words.

"To those who know how to wield both, they both may be a weapon of unparalleled calamity--"

Water condenses, manifests, and -crashes- through the ceiling. The chunks of rubble suspend in mid-air, floating like they were frozen in a solidifying sea of amber as rivers of torrential force roar towards the knight. They grip their weapon in both hands. Present it forward.

"-- or a greater blessing most may never know!"

And as the waters collide with them, they -spin- those blades. The sheer force and momentum of the roaring rapids -shove- them backwards, booted heels grinding through foot after foot of crystal and stone as the greatblades become a circular swirl of momentum. Water gathers at their edges in churning bubbles and thick rivulets.

The way it glitters off the white light of their armor is nothing short of spectacular as they divert the flow to either side of them. The bulk of those torrents collide with the walls, drilling through them powerfully in explosions of rubble.

And around them, the knight stands slowly to their full height, the remaining water floating in translucent, wobbling orbs of life-giving drink. Their armor shifts like fluid where the force had rent into it, reasserting into place.

"Perchance," they muse, "we may one day have the opportunity to speak more plainly."

And through the haze of water --

I am selfish. I am a selfish, caddish man.

They see the howl of wind.

"... I have much more than the gall, boy."

Their blades whip towards their right, held at their side, water flinging from the tips to float lazily through the air. They feel the Ley as it shifts and draws inward like a vacuum pulled towards its source. Sacred air. Their head tilts, the burning shine of their faceless helm unable to reflect the glow of planetary life that ripples off Cyre anymore as it once did.

"If you fight for the planet, fight for the planet well."

The tiger unhinges its maw. The wind and sorcerous light is blinding in its intensity.

"If you fight for revenge, fight for revenge well."

The light comes in a roar like a force of nature unto itself, a storm of wind and fury. And the Adversary --

"If you fight for your own interests, fight well!"

--does not dare move an inch.

"But FIGHT you must--"

The winds engulf with vast strength. The silhouette of the knight can be seen, -dragging- across the earth until they -crash- through a wall. Their right hand reaches out.

"--with ALL your strength--"

And GRIPS upon the very substance of the Ley, to DISPERSE that torrent with one powerful -yank-.

Emerald light suffuses the air around them as they reemerge from that hole, brushing floating rubble aside. Their armor is warped and blown out here and there, the glimpse of pale skin seen before it flows back over them like it had no substance to speak of.

"--... until the bitter end."

rThe glimmer of a gold eye can briefly be gleaned before the helm seals anew.

"Till you have naught else to give but your life."

Before they can make good on their advance, the Beast is already leaping upon them, making declarations of resolve that try to hide the tremor of terror within them, trying to claw and bite past armor with a conviction and bravery she may not feel.

The knight's armor feels...

... warm.

And for all it glows, for all it seems to flow like molten liquid, it does not bend or yield to Beast for even a -second- as one gauntleted hand -snaps- forward to grip her by her metal snout.

"'Tis the end, for those who do not truly believe it is not."

Their grip tightens.

"'Tis the fall, for those whose voice quiver with disbelief."

Until metal groans.

"'Tis your time to perish, if you have not even the mettle to stand pure and proud to your convictions."

Until it threatens to warp and splinter.

"There is naught waiting for you as you are, child. Naught but the darkness' loveless embrace."

Those blades lift high.

And before the weapon can draw down, a prismatic array of swords IMPALE the ground around the knight. They react instantly, attempting to -shove- Beast away with force enough to knock her from her feet --

--before all seven of those blades EXPLODE into light and magical might, consuming them within its blinding radiance.

"... Good."

The voice emerges from the haze, tinny, but there. As the light fades, that armor glows with a flow of colors, a prism jolting across that shining surface.

Their fingers spasm, once.

"You are timid. But you have strong will despite it--"

...K.K.!!

This will of yours is a sickness, and I will end it!

The words of defiance from both Xantia and Cecilia ring clear and ring proud. Xantia, who claws her way back from defeat stronger than ever, COLLIDES with Etheric force with the Adversary, so much faster, so much stronger. Before they can move to repel the assault, javelins of ice FLY, impaling through armor, -pinning- them down if briefly with their righteous wrath. One screams across their helm, ripping away chunks of molten armor that swiftly reasserts itself.

Xantia is upon them. A gold eye gazes briefly upon her.

"And what shall happen when you protect them from every suffering?"

        BOOM

The force of it rocks through the foundations. Flame buffets wildly across the still-lingering green gleam of Fengalon's wind, of the water that floats still through the hazy air. Rubble spits out around K.K.'s impact point, shattering along the ground Xantia occupies.

Silence.

<Pose Tracker> K.K. has posed.

Then I guess it's time to get really serious. K.K.! I'll soften 'em up for ya, so make sure you finish the job, yeah?!

"... I suppose it is."

A dual blade RIPS through the air, its great edges entirely liquid blade. It PLOWS through with such force that it will collide with -anyone- in the way, decimating pillars into powder, obliterating anything. Everything.

It lands, pulsing with shadows, embedded into the far south floor.

Another, twin swords of liquid shadow, fly, carving through all. They embed in another point on the floor.

Another, a great warscythe, ephemeral as the rest.

A lance, flung as if fired from a great bow, EXPLODES across the floor, buried deep.

A hammer, SLAMS into the ground with the force of a meteor.

A pair of knuckles, next.

A book and quill, suspends in the middle of all of them.

And as they all begin to glow with Althena's shadowy might, the book focusing all that energy --

The Adversary of Man LEAPS from the rubble.

In their hand, they carry a spear. It crackles with electricity of shadow, churning, churning, until it envelops the knight entirely within a great black sphere of darkness. Forges itself.

"LET ALL WHO HAVE NOT THE STRENGTH BE WASHED AWAY WITHIN THE TIDE OF HISTORY!"

And PLUNGES.

They impact, the dead center of that room, as all around them the force of that lightning bolt RAGES -- even as Ragnell's assault inflicts its violence upon her enemies, upon EVERYONE, it conducts through each of those weapons --

--until they all explode into the great maws of dragons, wrought by shadow, winding up so vast as if they could stretch to infinity.

Each serpent, rippling with untold spiritual force, that shockwave rips out--

                              "DRACOMACHIA!"

--and then condenses -down- as all that shadow bleeds away...

... leaving an endless field of blistering white that sears into the spirit.

And leaves a brand of light upon the soul to wage unholy, painful war with the shadow that bleeds through all assembled.

GS: K.K. has attacked K.K. with Pathomachia!
GS: K.K. has entered a Reflect stance!
GS: K.K. takes a solid hit from K.K.'s Pathomachia for 0 hit points!
GS: K.K. gains Restore, shortening negative statuses by 3 turns each!
GS: Hyper, Lock, and State! Statuses applied to K.K.!
GS: K.K. has activated a Boss Action!
GS: K.K. has activated a Force Action!
GS: K.K. has activated a Force Action!
GS: K.K. has spent 11 Combo on Link, Headshot, and Gatling, including 4 on Gatling!
GS: K.K. has attacked Seraph Clarine with Dracomachia!
GS: K.K. has attacked Seraph Lanval with Dracomachia!
GS: K.K. has attacked Chime Isa with Dracomachia!
GS: K.K. has attacked Lemina Ausa with Dracomachia!
GS: K.K. has attacked Jean with Dracomachia!
GS: K.K. has attacked Cecilia Adlehyde with Dracomachia!
GS: K.K. has attacked Seraph Solanine with Dracomachia!
GS: K.K. has attacked Gwen Whitlock with Dracomachia!
GS: K.K. has attacked Xantia with Dracomachia!
GS: K.K. has attacked Seraph Ceimglace with Dracomachia!
GS: K.K. has attacked Cyre H. Lorentz with Dracomachia!
GS: K.K. has attacked Seraph Beast with Dracomachia!
GS: K.K. has attacked Elvis with Dracomachia!
GS: K.K. has gained 2 Combo!
GS: K.K. has launched an attack Link!
GS: K.K. has spent 2 Combo on Poison and Disease, including 0 on Gatling!
GS: K.K. has attacked Seraph Clarine with Psychomachia!
GS: K.K. has attacked Seraph Lanval with Psychomachia!
GS: K.K. has attacked Chime Isa with Psychomachia!
GS: K.K. has attacked Lemina Ausa with Psychomachia!
GS: K.K. has attacked Jean with Psychomachia!
GS: K.K. has attacked Cecilia Adlehyde with Psychomachia!
GS: K.K. has attacked Seraph Solanine with Psychomachia!
GS: K.K. has attacked Gwen Whitlock with Psychomachia!
GS: K.K. has attacked Xantia with Psychomachia!
GS: K.K. has attacked Seraph Ceimglace with Psychomachia!
GS: K.K. has attacked Cyre H. Lorentz with Psychomachia!
GS: K.K. has attacked Seraph Beast with Psychomachia!
GS: K.K. has attacked Elvis with Psychomachia!
GS: K.K. has gained 1 Combo!
GS: CRITICAL! Cyre H. Lorentz takes a glancing hit from K.K.'s Dracomachia for 203 hit points!
GS: CRITICAL! Chime Isa takes a solid hit from K.K.'s Dracomachia for 470 hit points!
GS: Chime Isa has Fallen! She is no longer able to fight!
GS: Cyre H. Lorentz has gained 1 Combo!
GS: K.K. has lost 1 Combo!

DC: MISS! Cyre H. Lorentz completely evades Psychomachia from K.K.!

GS: Chime Isa takes a solid hit from K.K.'s Psychomachia for 0 hit points!
GS: Chime Isa has been weakened by Disease! They take 20 damage, and burn off all temporary hit points!
GS: Disease, Reaper, and Toxin! Statuses applied to Chime Isa!
GS: Chime Isa enters CONDITION GREEN!!
GS: Chime Isa has Fallen! She is no longer able to fight!
GS: CRITICAL! Cecilia Adlehyde critically Guards a hit from K.K.'s Dracomachia for 88 hit points!
GS: Cecilia Adlehyde has gained 1 Combo!
GS: K.K. has lost 1 Combo!
GS: Cecilia Adlehyde critically Guards a hit from K.K.'s Psychomachia for 0 hit points!
GS: Cecilia Adlehyde has gained 1 Combo!
GS: K.K. has lost 1 Combo!
GS: CRITICAL! Seraph Lanval critically Guards a hit from K.K.'s Dracomachia for 83 hit points!
GS: Seraph Lanval has gained 1 Combo!
GS: K.K. has lost 1 Combo!
GS: CRITICAL! Seraph Clarine takes a solid hit from K.K.'s Dracomachia for 465 hit points!
GS: Seraph Clarine has Fallen! She is no longer able to fight!
GS: CRITICAL! Jean critically Guards a hit from K.K.'s Dracomachia for 88 hit points!
GS: Jean has gained 1 Combo!
GS: K.K. has lost 1 Combo!
GS: CRITICAL! Elvis critically Guards a hit from K.K.'s Dracomachia for 84 hit points!
GS: Elvis has gained 1 Combo!
GS: K.K. has lost 1 Combo!
GS: CRITICAL! Gwen Whitlock guards a hit from K.K.'s Dracomachia for 245 hit points!
GS: Gwen Whitlock has Fallen! She is no longer able to fight!
GS: Elvis critically Guards a hit from K.K.'s Psychomachia for 0 hit points!
GS: Elvis has gained 1 Combo!
GS: K.K. has lost 1 Combo!
GS: Jean takes a glancing hit from K.K.'s Psychomachia for 0 hit points!
GS: Jean has been weakened by Disease! They take 20 damage, and burn off all temporary hit points!
GS: Disease, Reaper, and Toxin! Statuses applied to Jean!
GS: Jean takes an additional 45 damage from Reaper!
GS: Seraph Lanval used Mystic on Seraph Lanval! Status effect durations increased by 2! Temporary HP duration increased
by 2!
GS: Seraph Lanval has activated a Force Action!
GS: Seraph Lanval takes a solid hit from K.K.'s Psychomachia for 0 hit points!
GS: Seraph Lanval has been weakened by Disease! They take 0 damage, and burn off all temporary hit points!
GS: Disease, Reaper, and Toxin! Statuses applied to Seraph Lanval!
GS: Seraph Lanval takes an additional 60 damage from Reaper!
GS: CRITICAL! Seraph Solanine guards a hit from K.K.'s Dracomachia for 283 hit points!

<Pose Tracker> Catenna has posed.

The possibilities the Orb has shown them are abominable, none more than this. The image of a Malevolence so profound that it can transform a world into a tomb and a Guardian Lord into its angel of death.

And yet, Catenna's heart beats with the understanding of Talia's words.

        it is not real

It's that reality that lends itself to the strength of hope. Wind and ice muster as Talia gathers her power and musters what bravery she can possibly muster in the face of such hopelessness. Ice erupts forth as she seeks the light. It's followed a heartbeat afterwards by flame and chi as Ida gives her due to this abomination in the guise of Raftina, anomalous though she is.

Ice and light smash into armour darkened and pulsing with Malevolence. Still the darkness spools down from the Silver Star and into the waiting palm of the Guardian of Love, tainted.

Josephine hefts something that seems all too small and mundane in a place like this. A mattock, the earthy tool of an archaeologist.

And yet, her will carries it across the distance. The point of it punches through the armour of the Goddess with a screech of unnatural metal.

Light shines through in a small thin stream.

The shining white Owl lances towards the effigy of Raftina like a hurled spear, Catenna on her back the whole way. The Moon Shaman leans forward, tears tracing away from her face to glitter in the air behind her like fireflies in the night. Saarda-Shanta's wings flare as she gains speed - ready to barrel through the Guardian.

There is a great clash of light. More white light shines forth - and a burst of darkness that roils across the landscape. Souls quail at the mere touch of it - like a tidal wave of death and despair pouring from the graves of a million nations and a billion mothers.

        we were here. no matter what.

Small and innocuous, a paper airplane comes sailing through the air. Elly, the image of herself sketched into its folds.

The paper plane slides into the light.

And another light shines. Energy exploding out of Fei. Bursting around him, more punishing to himself than to anyone else. And yet... that cross tumbles from the heavens, threatening to end a world that has already ended.

The light grows.

        And there is a loud *CRACK.*

The putrid heart of the fallen Raftina begins to splinter itself apart. The cracks lancing through the tomb world widen. The world begins to crumble away.

And at the heart of it all, something Anomalous pulses....

GS: Seraph Solanine takes a solid hit from K.K.'s Psychomachia for 0 hit points!
GS: Seraph Solanine has been weakened by Disease! They take 0 damage, and burn off all temporary hit points!
GS: Disease, Reaper, and Toxin! Statuses applied to Seraph Solanine!
GS: Seraph Solanine takes an additional 45 damage from Reaper!
GS: Seraph Solanine has Fallen! She is no longer able to fight!
GS: Gwen Whitlock critically Guards a hit from K.K.'s Psychomachia for 0 hit points!
GS: Gwen Whitlock enters CONDITION GREEN!!
GS: Gwen Whitlock has gained 1 Combo!
GS: K.K. has lost 1 Combo!
GS: Gwen Whitlock has Fallen! She is no longer able to fight!
GS: Please react using the attack number in +queue.
GS: Seraph Clarine takes a solid hit from K.K.'s Psychomachia for 0 hit points!
GS: Seraph Clarine has been weakened by Disease! They take 0 damage, and burn off all temporary hit points!
GS: Disease, Reaper, and Toxin! Statuses applied to Seraph Clarine!
GS: Seraph Clarine enters CONDITION GREEN!!
GS: Seraph Clarine has Fallen! She is no longer able to fight!
GS: CRITICAL! Seraph Beast critically Guards a hit from K.K.'s Dracomachia for 82 hit points!
GS: Seraph Beast has gained 1 Combo!
GS: K.K. has lost 1 Combo!
GS: Seraph Beast has Fallen! She is no longer able to fight!
GS: Seraph Beast guards a hit from K.K.'s Psychomachia for 0 hit points!
GS: Seraph Beast has been weakened by Disease! They take 20 damage, and burn off all temporary hit points!
GS: Disease, Reaper, and Toxin! Statuses applied to Seraph Beast!
GS: Seraph Beast takes an additional 45 damage from Reaper!
GS: Seraph Beast has Fallen! She is no longer able to fight!
GS: CRITICAL! Seraph Ceimglace takes a glancing hit from K.K.'s Dracomachia for 245 hit points!
GS: Seraph Ceimglace has Fallen! She is no longer able to fight!
GS: Seraph Ceimglace takes a glancing hit from K.K.'s Psychomachia for 0 hit points!
GS: Seraph Ceimglace has been weakened by Disease! They take 20 damage, and burn off all temporary hit points!
GS: Disease, Reaper, and Toxin! Statuses applied to Seraph Ceimglace!
GS: Seraph Ceimglace enters CONDITION GREEN!!
GS: Seraph Ceimglace has Fallen! She is no longer able to fight!
GS: CRITICAL! Lemina Ausa guards a hit from K.K.'s Dracomachia for 288 hit points!
GS: Lemina Ausa has Fallen! She is no longer able to fight!
GS: Lemina Ausa guards a hit from K.K.'s Psychomachia for 0 hit points!
GS: Lemina Ausa has been weakened by Disease! They take 0 damage, and burn off all temporary hit points!
GS: Disease, Reaper, and Toxin! Statuses applied to Lemina Ausa!
GS: Lemina Ausa enters CONDITION GREEN!!
GS: Lemina Ausa has Fallen! She is no longer able to fight!
GS: CRITICAL! Xantia critically Guards a hit from K.K.'s Dracomachia for 78 hit points!
GS: Xantia has gained 1 Combo!
GS: K.K. has lost 1 Combo!
GS: Xantia takes a glancing hit from K.K.'s Psychomachia for 0 hit points!
GS: Xantia has been weakened by Disease! They take 0 damage, and burn off all temporary hit points!
GS: Disease, Reaper, and Toxin! Statuses applied to Xantia!
GS: Xantia takes an additional 45 damage from Reaper!
GS: Gwen Whitlock has been restored to full HP!
GS: Seraph Solanine has been restored to full HP!
GS: Seraph Ceimglace has been restored to full HP!
GS: Seraph Beast has been restored to full HP!
GS: Seraph Clarine has been restored to full HP!
GS: Chime Isa has been restored to full HP!
GS: Lemina Ausa has been restored to full HP!

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Lanval has posed.

        Electrical power gathers and surrounds, as Lanval finds himself - incidentally, by accident - dead center within the electrical cage, the way everyone sprawls out about the ephemeral battlefield. Even for one who is defined by mirth, the inevitability of impending destruction courses through.
        There is no defense.
        There is no escape.
        A blood-curdling - well, he has no blood, so let's try soul-crushing - yell escapes as the legendary Mystic Arte rips through the Water Seraph with the expected results. Steam rises from the manifested body of the Seraph... well, presumably, that's where it's coming from, because as lightning dances brilliantly, the blue water elemental simply cannot be seen for some time.
        Only when the sparks start to settle (or rather, surge in directions away from him, Indignation's shock never truly settles), can they see him.
        ...
                ...
                        ...
        There are no words for Ragnell nor K.K.. His expression is blank, his eyes closing as energy starts to dissipate from him... and yet, there's still the desperate thrum of the Ley. The element of...
        "...Washed awaaaay..." Lanval weakly murmurs as K.K. declares that is the fate of those who have the strength to stand in history's tides, as eyes lazily sweep across the field with the planted weapons. The electrical discharge has hardly faded any.
        The shadow consumes...
        And there is a SPLASH of water that erupts, and Lanval is standing upright anew. The sparkling water that erupts from him washes outward... but, as is an inevitability, it turns to malevolent sludge as the creeping corruption touches the puddles.
        Water is notoriously soft to corruption. Lanval is water. He is still Lanval.
        "The tides shan't wash it away yet...!" This is tested as he whirls his drinking gourd into the blistering light, which seems to be largely a token gesture of resistance at best as the light brands about him. Indeed, the dance turns into more of a stumble, into a stagger, into a helpless flailing...
        ...Until he is on his seat. His eyes close, clutching the gourd tightly as he thinks to his kin who stand about him.
        "...Sholanine..." His voice is back to the slurring, weak, doddering sort. "...I can tell ya found shomethin' precioush... ya came all the way down here..."
        "...Ceimglace," he says, "ya ain't comin' thish far ta falter... ya don't like fightin'... then yer here 'caushe ya wanna help..."
        "...Beasht," he continues as he trembles, light and darkness still lingering about him. "Ya didn't hide... ya came here..."
        "...Mmmm... whoever ya are," he says, "makesh... me feel nice, ta know I ain't alone in... carin' 'bout a place that ain't where we're from..."
        ...Fatigue and weight weigh ever heavier on Lanval. The corruption creeps, as if inevitable. His power is drained. Indignation has - rightly - showed him the depths of Ragnell's conviction.
        ...In turn, that he survives at all, coherent enough, is to show the depths of his own back towards K.K.
        The Water Seraph rises, shakily, taking steps forward. The clear, pooling water turns murky and awful. He might not be able to outpace it...
        He takes a drink, to clear his mind. The branding of one's desire to be an adversary, an enemy - unyielding, always testing.
        Is that something a mere drink can wash away?
        "...C'mon." Lanval tries to say to the rest, stuttering. "C-C'mon... mmmmph. Yer all... tougher 'n that... 'caushe ya know, after sheein' what I did comin' here..."
        He puts on a stupid smile.
        "After all'sh shaid and done... Raftina sthill lovesh thish world, 'n the people in it... even now... ha ha... 'n I can't even fathom what that might even be like, jusht... bein'... all the love of a planet...
        "...The water, maybe, but... I know enough..."
        He takes another drink. He can trust the rest to regain their footing and stand.

GS: Seraph Lanval has attacked Seraph Lanval with Wake Up Splash!
GS: Seraph Lanval takes an additional 15 damage from Reaper!
GS: Seraph Lanval takes 14 damage from Toxin!
GS: Seraph Lanval has completed his action.
GS: Seraph Lanval takes a solid hit from Seraph Lanval's Wake Up Splash for 0 hit points!
GS: Seraph Lanval gains Restore, shortening negative statuses by 3 turns each!

<Pose Tracker> Josephine Lovelace has posed.
<SoundTracker> Song of the Ancients / Devola - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qCKEXPXtrEU

        Her lips part, as if she almost, almost had a response for Fei on her lips...
        Before Raftina, corrupted, steals even that away.

        Guided by a miracle, perhaps, the mattock soars into the heavens--

        The armor cracks.
        What is left within love but rot?

        All crumbles away, fades out into darkness...
        we go into the circle by night...

        Baking bread.
        That's the first thing she's aware of.
        That and the woman across from her, waving a hand in front of her face, an amused fond smile on her lips. "Did you zone out?" she says, biting back a soft chuckle. "You've been working too hard. Did you ever think about taking a break sometime?"

        Birds sing outside in the trees; sunlight dapples through the open window. It's another fine day.
        But it always felt like a fine day when they were able to see one another. It was never enough. Always less and less, it felt. But she was happy...
        Wasn't she?

        "Well," she starts to say, turning her head as if catching something errant out of the corner of an eye. As if she remembered something.
        The flames burn in ever tighter rings, cycling in a gyre towards this house.

        "Hey," says her sister, interrupting the silence.

        "There's something I wanted to tell you."

        The flames circle in ever tighter, around this house, the only thing that exists anymore.
        She doesn't even notice when the birds silence. When the sky darkens.

        "This world... it's..."

        She cares for nothing else but this moment.

        ...and we are consumed by fire.

        Sight unseen, singed at the edges, the paper airplane skids in through the open window, followed by -- in pursuit -- a most singular pigeon.

        Josephine turns her head and stares at Penelope.

        "Oh."

        Flames crackle outside the walls. Ash begins to rain in from the beams overhead.

        This house only exists one place anymore.

        As does the woman seated opposite her.

        "...I miss you," she tells the memory. The flames begin to eat up even the walls, spread out across the floors.

        She pushes back her chair as her sister remains seated even so as the inferno catches up to them both. "And I want to stay."

        All is flame.

        "But not yet. I'm not done yet."

        She parts through the inferno. She reaches out for a brilliance.

        "...Wait for me, sis."

<Pose Tracker> Fei Fong Wong has posed.

Fei can't see anyone. He can't hear Talia. He can't see Catenna, he can't imagine Josephine, he can't remember Ida, he can't even feel Elly. Whatever trauma has struck him, it's far stronger and far deeper than the strides he has made to control himself so far. You have healed one wound, but the deeper ones remain. It is a poor time to lose control. How much longer can your friends stand up to Ragnell and K.K? They aren't holding back. They may already be dead.

Raftina's heart shatters. That's ... not great. Space twists and turns around everyone. Darkness is all that remains. And strength...

And you are alone. So very alone.

Fei wakes up in an office. He was kind of dozing off there for a moment. Literally nobody noticed. His job exists, he gets paid for it, but it doesn't need to be done.

DENIED. DENIED. DENIED. DENIED. He keeps stamping along. He thinks he sees a red haired man working nearby, but he ignores him. He is the weird one. Every office has one. Fei is just fine working here.

You are still so susceptible.

Fei ignores the nagging voice. He looks outside the window. Nearby a Fei says 'I've decided I'm Surfer Fei. That's my thing. I'm going to surf. That's the gimmick." He sees an endless dark, a twisting of light, of peculiar radiance. It feels so very far away.

He could ask Boss Fei over there, but not even Boss Fei is the Boss. Boss is middle management at best. Above him are ancient undead ghosts that he never wants to see, let alone give occassion to be noticed by.

The paper airplane soars through the mindscape. This is her power. In a hall of mirrors where Ida is facing her own reflections, her own crimes, her own behavior and selves she has created... the paper airplane swoops out one mirror and into another.

In Catenna's wilderness, she is attacked by a creature wearing an angry mask with hidden claws. Are these monsters? Or are they her people? Or perhaps most terrifyingly, are they her? Only Catenna can decide that, but she better decide quickly because this vision is very aggressive, each creature tries to grab ahold of her and drag her down and steal her identity and make her just like them. A paper airplane swifts around the fire, before fluttering onward. Maybe she needs no more than that.

The airplane continues on where Talia is somewhere dark. It rests for a moment on her shoulder and it points towards the darkness. Is it urging her onward or is it warning her? Only Talia can decide that but she's made this decision before, hasn't she? Wherever Talia moves, the paper airplane tumbles away into the darkness.

It flies along the outside of Josephine's home as she faces her own vision of perfection. Perhaps a Coward could appreciate this, but the paper airplane is not from them. Despite the intense flames, it tap taps at the window. Is it trying to warn her of the fire?

And then finally...

...Finally the airplane returns to its owner. She is faced not just with her own crimes, but the crimes of her people, the crimes of her nation, the crimes for the Emperor. These are crimes shared by everybody in the nation for some crimes are too large to not be shared and even then they are too heavy to bear.

They try to tell her what she is...

...but that paper airplane lands in Elly's hands and if she opens it up...She'll see her own picture, there, a picture of someone who is not splattered with blood but looks just like her, eating ice cream.

And a message.

BGM: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uu_F5vrdEjQ

God gave us fragile wings to take each other's hands. Even if we can't fly, I'll choose to walk with you."

These are not Fei's words, not really.

They are yours, Elly. He just remembered first.

DG: Josephine Lovelace has used her Tool Penelope toward her party's challenge, In The End....
DG: Fei Fong Wong has used his Tool Artist's Toolkit toward his party's challenge, In The End....

<Pose Tracker> Chime Isa has posed.

        The fight rages on, and Chime finishes recovering enough to pick up her crossbows as she slips her crest away. The red-haired elf straightens up to her full four and half feet in time to freeze, then slip around the sudden bolts of lightning as the ground around her is torn apart by the strikes and her hair curls and electricity sparks between strands. Her cheerful smile doesn't falter as she comes to a stop with a deep breath.

        Only to fold as the Trail Knight unleashes their attack. She collaspes into a heap, hands still gripping her crossbows as the force of the Knight's attack sweeps through the room and over the fighting Drifters. As the aftermath of it rolls over the room, it's silent for a moment. Till a splash of water breaks that silence.

        Chime shakes her head, using one crossbow to push herself to her a knee as narrowed eyes and a small smile scan the room. "Well, that could've gone better I think." she says in a slightly raspy voice before coughing. "But, It looks like the tide of history yet agian fails to wash away anything forever." as she stands up fully.

        "After all, it's not history that forgets. It those that walk it that forget, and a sorry thing it be to forget one's own self." as she resets the string on one of her crossbows, back into place on the part of the ARM that allows it to fire so quickly so often. "But I don't think we can afford failure here. After all."

        "Life is beautiful. It is precious. And it must be protected.".

GS: Chime Isa has attacked Xantia with It's Okay!!
GS: Chime Isa has attacked Seraph Beast with It's Okay!!
GS: Chime Isa has attacked Seraph Solanine with It's Okay!!
GS: Chime Isa has completed her action.

<Pose Tracker> Elvis has posed.

An... unsatisfactory answer. Yet far from incorrect. "You seemed eager to let us know your path forward. One would think if you truly wanted this planet dead, you would not have told us anything, and let the planet waste away without being found." A pause to exhale, gather himself. "Tell me, why tell us then? Did you seek battle? Affirmation? A conclusion to past dealings with these Humans?"

The power of the blade K.K. wields is unmistakenable. The power of great pressure is no match for the swings it makes. The water, and force of the swings, turn the sides of the room to rubble. What water remains incandescently sparkles amidst the low din of light from the Ley.

His brow furrows. "Or something more?" A small chuckle, as the man hefts that weapon. "Perhaps so! Guess that means we both need to make it out of here, eh?"

An invocation is called upon nearby. "That Seraph-- Look out!" he shouts, sensing the buildup of energy. A stomp of a heel, and a thick section of solid stone wall forms a V-shape in front of him to deflect the blast. An incredibly powerful spell, divined from gods-know-where. The wall takes the brunt of the attack, but Elvis stil lreceives a hefty does of it. He puts up his spare arm to block the singing of flesh on his face.

He comes out better than most, but is sitll quite well seared, skin missing o nthe outer forearm from the electric aftermath. "Grrr! Just can't fight fair, huh?!" he barks toward Ragnell. They were in league though, so it only made sense they teamed up. It was a rather strangely matched fight; pairing off didn't make sense in retrospect.

K.K. goes on the offense right after the blast. His conjured, powerful weapons are thrown out and latch themselves to points all over the room. "What kind of sorcery do you attempt, Trial Knight?!" It becomes clear it is a rite of dragons, which twist up into the metaphysical skies above. Shadowy energy rends outward, attempting to tear everything apart, be it flesh or soul. "Hnnng!"

Little is seen of Elvis as black goes to white, and scalding white envelops all, a drastic counter to the seeping dark before. The two extremes of power. The Trial Knight wields both.

As dictated, now acted.

A ripple of power rings out. A gentle hum. When the color returns. Elvis can be seen, glowing similar bruising colors, but they are different, they are brighter, more vibrant. "Your tactics... may work on weaker bodied... individuals, but you have... to do better on me!" Elvis looks exhausted. it spend a great deal of power preventing being obliterated from those combination of attacks. And he certaily didn't come out unscathed. A bleary look in his eyes can tell his opposition how effective the soul-draining attack was. Surprisingly, he seems to have fared better than most agaisnt the light, suffing only a few more burns. And yet the Veruni still stands.

"Fine, I guess we can still have a round or two, eh?" the man chuckles, staring down his white armored opponent. In a storm of motion, Elvis moves to engage in close quarters with K.K., brandishing that cannon he has as a weapon!

Only to pop-fly the weapon and go for a vicious elbow strike! "Rarely do I get to attack with anything but straight punches!" The next attacks thrown at high speed are quick brunted attacks with his fists that aim for specific weak areas on typical people. whether they are effective or not will be seen.

Ad the end of his volley is an open palm strike that causes a shockwave to tear the stone flooring behind K.K. up from sheer interial force.

His hands open and catch then cannon at that instant as he points it for a straight body shot.

"This is for the dark-skinned lass."

Then pulls the trigger.

GS: Elvis has activated a Force Action!
GS: Elvis has spent 3 Combo on Headshot, including 0 on Gatling!
GS: Elvis has attacked K.K. with Locus Upper!
GS: Elvis has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Elvis has completed his action.

<Pose Tracker> Lemina Ausa has posed.

Ragnell and K.K. loose their full fury -- heaven and hell all at once -- and Lemina cannot stand before it. Ragnell's strikes her first; this much, she can withstand -- though she has to shift position, has to play fast and loose with the ice she wields to defend herself. Even then, electricity finds its way to her, and destroys her footing by the time the Adversary strikes. The raw power on display is so immense -- Lemina once again feels small, as she often does in the face of the world's most powerful. Being a big fish in a small pond, as always, comes with an expiration date.

She feels energy flowing into her, even as her own ebbs; it's dizzying, agonizing in its own right -- she recognizes the warmth and the purity that's seeping into her, but it's so much against the tide of light and shadow and lightning and a hundred other things --trying to reconcile both feelings leaves her...

... well, alive to try, at least, but feeling positively terrible. The Junior Premier decides the best thing she can do, now, is stick to defending herself -- stick to protecting the life she was lucky enough to retain. Perhaps it's a little cowardly to wall herself -- and the area surrounding her -- off, with a barrier of ice... but her first priority is staying alive.

<Pose Tracker> Catenna has posed.

There's no light anymore.

Only an inexorable pull. A pull into an emptiness that seems to float for all eternity. Catenna looks down beneath her.

The Great Owl has disappeared from beneath her. Even the Totem of Celesdue is gone. She's left, for the first time in far too long, entirely too her own devices, in a rift where there is nothing. She can't see Fei, she can't hear Elly, she can't sense Josephine, she can't recall Ida, she can't imagine Talia.

Only that pull.

                    I AM THE FATE THAT CANNOT BE DETERRED.

Catenna clenches her teeth. "Damn you," is her only response. It feels very small and petty in her own ears.

Darkness gives way to a jolt - and her foot touches down into sparse grass. The wind that hits her face is not dead and ashen this time, but familiarly dry and crisp, with the faintest hint of a familiar river and a familiar woodland and a familiar scent of distant cooking fires over which mothers cooked the dishes she's so used to cooking for the Caravan Kinship. It's a place she knows, viscerally. One burned into the memories of her youth - a place they stopped often in their travels on the fringes of the land that used to be Zortroan, once, in the long long ago.

"Why have you brought me here again," the Moon Shaman asks the open air. "And where's Saarda-Shanta?"

There is no answer.

Only a thump. Catenna turns with a hiss of breath towards the figure that's slid from behind rocks off to her right. A familiar shape. Enrobed, masked, taloned.

One of the Dark Summoners - a lumbering beast rising just ahead of the creature.

Again, something hits the ground. More masked figures emerge, a bevy of monsters with them. All of the humans have garbed themselves so as to deny their humanity. The red manes; the painted masks; the gis and talons. They, unlike Catenna, could do what they were asked by Piedras Blancas, by those who came before him.

The feeling in the back of Catenna's throat is sickening. She slides her heels apart and shoulders her bow, reaching instead for a long knife. It and her arcana will have to suffice as she faces the renegade's welcome she always knew she would receive from the Zortroa Kinship someday.

Talons flash. Beasts leap.

Gravity pulses. A knife slices, a singular thing.

It wears on simultaneously more slowly and more swiftly than she can realize. She has little time to think - only to move. Claw and fang swing from every direction. Some slash close enough to strike. Her limbs and shoulders and back accumulate nicks and slashes even as she hurls away some of them, but can't do it to all of them. Knife and magic alone won't suffice - not whe she's alone. This isn't her kind of fight, so adapted is she to standing behind a stronger person and finding the time to cast, to impede, to compress something into a cube, to call forth a Guardian who feels horrifyingly distant right now.

        A FATE THAT CANNOT BE DETERRED.

                        A paper airplane ghosting around the distant flicker of fires.

Catenna's eyes widen.

Steel slashes across the air in front of her - but she vaults herself back and runs. The paper airplane flirts with her, caught on a breeze, lifting towards the sky - so clear and blue, and yet with the faded shape of the silver moon plainly visible.

Behind her, the Kinship lopes after her like a pack of wolves. She can hear the sound of their breathing. For a moment she feels like a prey animal.

She focuses on the paper airplane. It lofts upwards towards a moon that seems a little more radiant now.

<Are you lost?>

Catenna widens her eyes, but she can't stop running. She has the Moon centred in her vision, nearly falling over herself as she sprints towards a thing she can never reach on foot. "Where are you?!" she calls out.

<After all that you have been through, you still can't see the things that are the closest to you, can you?>

Blue light begins to shine. It is not coming from the Silver Medium. It is not coming from the Moon.

It is coming from Catenna herself. Behind her, the Kinship recoil with a shriek - and in her own world, Catenna feels her feet leaving the ground. Her eyes are wide and her mouth open.

<You forget what can deter this fate even in a place of love. Forgetting that you cannot possibly be alone.> The light spreads into a pair of great white wings. Soft white feathers. Huge yellow eyes. An immense, stocky body that bears her aloft towards that shining light.

<You have your faith, don't you?>

Catenna's lower lip quivers.

DG: Catenna has used her Tool Saarda-Shanta toward her party's challenge, In The End....

<Pose Tracker> Jean has posed.

Why wait for the ghost of the thing, when the reality is here? Why stay far away from life at its edge, at the very precipice of utter destruction--when life has been given, gifted, allowed? It always was different, from others--from Lemina. Ragnell had something Jean could sense--something... she knew.

Jean never had Lemina's innocence. She never possessed Hiro's purity. Never was she possessed of Lucia's clarity. The faith that Ronfar held was not the bedrock of Jean's old life. ...And she could never really possess Ruby's hope.

No. It was always different.

Jean's foot strikes, and she whirls with Ragnell before she lowers suddenly, and quite the opposite of struggling--for this, for this one moment, she presses back, as if a reminder of the life she's chosen. Her eyes open again, through that whisper--and meet Ragnell's.

One way... or another.

Jean whirls away, and the power in place forces her to wrench her body in order to gain control again, hit the ground and spring from her hands in a cartwheel to a standing position once again. What joy? What power, is here?

It was a dance. And now, it is gold; Jean feels the power as it comes, knows the strength that is building in her bones as she stops, looks up--up, up, up, beyond where it should be, or can be. The divine lightning brews. Jean sees those vivid eyes, hears the drawl, and she can think--

She's died already. She's died, and returned, and doesn't yet know whether she can be other than what the book of her life revealed, when it's all over.

The immense force comes, and there is no escape. Jean--Jean of the Shadow Dragon, greatest of its assassins. Jean, of the caravan, star dancer. Jean, of a desert heat and death. ...Jean, of the Vile Fiends. She closes her eyes, and for an instant, she is empty; in all of those things...

For an instant, she merely is. And she has the miracle she would not have asked.

The lightning flows, everywhere. The lightning destroys everything in its path. But Jean stands, silent, in its passing, her dark skin faintly shining with the sweat of exertion in the fading brilliance of Ragnell's power. Subtlety, and directness; these Jean knows. ...Fighting, she knows. Ending, she knows. But light? Light, as the Adversary shows?

The first of the weapons do not strike Jean. No--but the shockwave that comes next does. The weaponry explodes into the great maws of dragons, and here, perhaps it is true, is the marking that the assassin deserves, for all she's done. From all directions, it crashes towards her, and her hands and arms move instantly into the shapes that have been carved into her heart. The wrath of dragons meets another, smaller Dragon, rising to meet a vast, infinite force.

Even as Jean crosses her wrists before herself, ducks down, the impact is incredible; the ground at her feet rocks and quakes, and the shadow burns through her, searing old scars and long-closed wounds and rocking through her very life force. Even a master of shadow could not shrug off this attack, and how long, how long has Jean denied it?

She is on the ground, on one knee, when the shadow blees away... And she has not made a sound. In all her training, she learned above all; showing pain is tantamount to defeat itself.

Nevertheless, the light that burns from within her is all the brighter for the shadows she casts, and it wars with the shadow she brought to begin with. Jean is conscious, immediately, of the bloody scream of pain that finally rips through her, maybe the first of its kind since she was a child, going along old, forgotten paths as one of her hands hits the ground, the glove shorn away to nothing under the force that has come. Her green hair falls loose--she is still, for an instant, unmoving.

She hears Lanval's voice; she hears love. But it is so, so distant. Tough? What is toughness? What matters the deep, calloused strength of a thing wounded over, and over? But...

But there was a life. A life, after all that pain. Here, at an end...

"...Your spell," Jean says, raising her voice, addressing not this time Ragnell, but K.K., the very Adversary, the one to whom her friend proved her loyalty. "...It must have failed," she says, and her voice is raw, her throat ragged; she is covered in wounds, only some of which could possibly have been inflicted here, old scars long shadowed. "It was to remove those without strength. ...The unworthy, swept aside."

"...But I'm..." She starts to push off from the ground, "I'm still here. And my strength... It was never real strength. It was only the power to kill. The power to destroy. The power to bring pain."

"...So it must be wrong. I have no strength to show you--you, or Ragnell."

"...So I'll show you... What I have, instead."

The pain that floods through her body is familiar, in its way, but Jean rises, arms out, still, perfectly bent, properly held--and she takes the first step. The first step, and another, in a music only she can hear, a dance of night. She dances a goodbye, she dances all the sorrow she can find, her face lost in another emotion, the blood dripping from her wounds seeming to hit the ground as lightly as her footfalls.

Her eyes remain closed; she is barely on her feet at all, and yet, light, her sweeping motions of arm and bend of the knee each proving that they could be the last.

The shadow is closed to her here, without hatred. The light burns, but it does not belong to her. She has only her last dance.

GS: Jean has activated a Force Action!
GS: Jean has activated a Force Action!
GS: Jean has activated a Force Action!
GS: Jean has attacked Seraph Ragnell with Nocturne!
GS: Jean has attacked K.K. with Nocturne!
GS: Jean takes an additional 15 damage from Reaper!
GS: Jean takes 10 damage from Toxin!
GS: Jean has completed her action.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Clarine has posed.

"...No, I suppose not..." Clarine admits, then nods quietly. There was no question about her surviving, however - she could not fall here. She would continue on. She didn't want to make Ammy cry, after all. "...I will ask her, yes."

The Trial Knight makes and observation - she is timid, but has a strong will.

...Clarine does not respond. What could she say?

The fight continues. Clarine listens to the words of Ragnell and the Trial Knight both, focusing on them, and preparing for their next move. But what awaits next causes her eyes to open wide in shock and surprise.

A multitude of weapons emerges, crashing down with great force.

She recognizes all of them.

"I-It wasn't just the blade...!" She whispers. She did not think she would seem them united again - not like this. This was a nightmare in and of itself.

But stunned by the sight of these armaments, she doesn't hear Ragnell's incantation until it's too late.

"N-no!" She gasps, raising her mirror as a shield. Divine lightning crashes down from heaven like a spear from a god. It crashes into her mirror, and, for a moment, the world goes completely still.

And then... a shattering sound as her mirror breaks, light spilling out not unlike a splatter of blood before dissipating into motes of light. The lightning strike crashes into her, driving her into the ground with a painful yelp.

But this is not the end. No, K.K. is still there, risen into the air and carrying a spear crackling with electricity.

And they fall, the gathered weapons exploding into terrible dragons that rise...and then fall, a terrible combination of light and shadow.

Clarine is consumed utterly and tossed around, before finally colliding into the ground solidly. She lays there, still, motes of light wisping off of her form.

But...it is not the end.

It's several things, that bring her back to her feet. A quiet voice she doesn't recognize but would undoubtedly get along with, invoking the power of the Ley.

A mention from one of her fellow Seraphim. She does not know him, and he does not know her, but she can feel the appreciation in Lanval's voice.

...And, thinking back, to a conversation she had what seems like so very much long ago now.

"I-I told Ammy...I told her that I...I did not want to disappear from her life again, after so long..." Clarine whispers. "I-I told her...that I would do the fighting for her..."

She picks herself up. Battered, injured, slightly charred...but not broken.

Almost.

But not yet.

"If I fell here...she would cry. I don't want to make her cry again..." She says, gesturing. At her command, the mirrors that had fallen before rise from their positions into the ground into the air, spinning about. Positioned at optimal angles throughout the room.

"Th-that's why...I must not falter... Ragnell! Please accept these feelings!" She exhales.

"One thousand divine lights, arise and light the path to tomorrow! Radiant Cannonade!" She incants, her hands extended.

Many, many rays of light appear around her and fire off toward Ragnell.

...But, many of them miss her. Flying past her. Impacting mirrors on the other end of the room and bouncing off toward another, forming a cage of light that is, eventually, redirected toward Ragnell herself - a barrage of lasers homing in on her and her surroundings from impossible angles to make evasion difficult.

GS: Seraph Clarine has spent 3 Combo on Gatling, including 2 on Gatling!
GS: Seraph Clarine enters CONDITION GREEN!!
GS: Seraph Clarine has attacked Seraph Ragnell with Radiant Cannonade!
GS: Seraph Clarine has completed her action.

<Pose Tracker> Cyre H. Lorentz has posed.

It's difficult to describe what the end of the world might look like, but this... This is close. The avatar of wind is stunned speechless as the Adversary tears the ley from the wind, scattering it into so many emerald motes. Above, the sky opens up, an arte that conjures to mind the full might and fury of Noua Shax-- but in another's hands. In a Seraph's. What are they, really? Ancient and powerful spirits of nature, can they truly rival the Guardians? Is that their nature?

And what of the Trial Knight-- the Adversary-- whose weapons shatter the sacred temple and whose very will can scatter the sacred life-force of the world like so much dust. What is it, really? Why is it?

What is this power that they unleash, that seems as though it might overturn the very foundations of heaven and earth.

Ragnell's magic unfolds overhead. The primordial storm gathers at her bidding, ready to render divine judgment unto the unworthy. All around and below, Malevolence pulses and surges and floods, boiling upward in a torrent of twisted, draconic calamity, swallowing the land as the sky's wrath pours forth.

This.

Is this the end?

No.

"No," the tiger answers, even as a deluge of darkness pours down. A mandala spreads across its back like a pair of wings, golden and unbowed. He rises still, even with the shadow burning at the sacred geometry that underpins his very soul. "I'm not ready to die. I won't die. Not here."

He says that. He says that, but his form is cracking, crumbling. Even the greatest among the Nahual can only sustain that form for so long, his limit is come, his limit is past. Here, submerged in the roaring riptides of the world, to hold on longer than that is tantamount to suicide. But--

Fight, they must.

        With all their strength.

                Until the bitter end.

                        Till life is all that's left to give.

        "We won't. We won't! You damn traitor-angel! Adversary-demon! How many had to suffer to bring you to this point!?" The tiger roars, it soars, it breaks free of the shackles of light and shadow, a silver totem blazing in its heart. It surges upwards, into the gathering stormclouds and the indignant lightning. Electricity pours down into it, but-- but----!

"Leon's fangs--" Cyre lies, roaring defiant as he flies ever higher, "Hurt way more than this! You made a mistake, using lightning against me here! I, who walk with the wind, call upon the tempest-oath!" Cracks of emerald light spiderweb across the tiger's form as its mandala expands, drinking in the lingering electric currents, building the accumulated ley higher and higher-- he drowns in it, his breath is smothered, and even then--! "Behold," he howls out, shattering the uppermost ring of Ragnell's fatal sorcery with a single, mighty blow-- as he seizes its power for himself, "The third legend of the Brothers Storm! The Day The Wind Stole Thunder!"

"Everyone!" Cyre bellows as the mandala revolves, spinning up a great and mighty wind that scatters the lingering clouds and pours down toward the battered and near-broken warriors. The wind... carries sparks-- insignificant, incendiary, gold and green motes that burst into brilliant supernovas of rejuvinating light when they draw near. "This can't be how it ends! For everything we love, for everything we hold dear, for that selfish wish of everyone who lives on this world to keep on living! Stand up!"

"Strike now! Shake off the weight of history! As long as we're alive, we can write our OWN future!"

<Pose Tracker> Talia has posed.

Frozen particles of mist waft and drift away from Talia's outstretched fingers. She looks up at the Guardian Lord, watching as its armor cracks. It is a slow, agonizing process. 'This isn't real,' they all said -- in their varying forms -- and yet, as Fei's screams revealed, part of it is real.

Or it could be.

Talia lowers her hand, slowly, and then sees the dissolving landscape rush closer and closer, faster and faster--no. She is being drawn towards it, pulled in quickly towards the horizon -- towards darkness. No, towards nothing.

There is a slow, trembling blink of her eyes. She recognizes the darkened hall that she stands in; she remembers it from days spent in Pendrago, after the distant countryside manor burnt to the ground. Talia's red eyes take a moment to focus, to accustom to the light. She finds herself looking at a silhouette that she recognizes, in an instant, and she starts forward with a glare in her eyes.

Until, finally, her eyes lock onto the younger man. She sees him slightly clearer, just enough to feel that she looks into a mirror; a reflection of her, looking almost but not quite identical. Talia's voice catches in her throat.

"No--no, Ivan, stop, don't go with--" She starts forward, stumbling, and reaches out a hand outstretched. "Vanya, stop! VANYA! You have--"

But the people are around her, then. Bloodied faces and bloodied bodies, and the knowledge she made them that way. She pushes into a press of them, until she can press no further. She feels a whimper in the back of her throat, bubbling up. Then, she feels the pair of hands on her shoulders.

They're so cold.

"N-No," she stammers out. "You... you aren't--" She bows her head, her eyes starting to sting. It is with a start, then, that she feels something else. She feels the paper airplane that buzzes by her shoulder and looks up. Her breath, caught in her throat, comes again. She swallows.

She pulls herself free of the cold hands on her shoulders. She can't bear to turn and see the face that they belong to. She knows what waits if she turns around. She knows she won't be able to keep going.

So she stares ahead, choking down a sob, and grits her teeth. Talia drags herself away, and then she starts to sprint forward. "Wait..." she calls out, then louder: "WAIT FOR ME!"

DG: Talia has used her Tool Lt. Keil's Notebook toward her party's challenge, In The End....

GS: Cyre H. Lorentz has attacked Cecilia Adlehyde with Shining Wind!
GS: Cyre H. Lorentz has attacked Gwen Whitlock with Shining Wind!
GS: Cyre H. Lorentz has attacked Seraph Beast with Shining Wind!
GS: Cyre H. Lorentz has attacked Seraph Lanval with Shining Wind!
GS: Cyre H. Lorentz has attacked Chime Isa with Shining Wind!
GS: Cyre H. Lorentz has completed his action.
GS: Cyre H. Lorentz has canceled their attack on Cecilia Adlehyde.
GS: Cyre H. Lorentz has canceled their attack on Chime Isa.
GS: Cyre H. Lorentz has canceled their attack on Seraph Lanval.
GS: Cyre H. Lorentz has canceled their attack on Seraph Beast.
GS: Cyre H. Lorentz has canceled their attack on Gwen Whitlock.
GS: CRITICAL! K.K. takes a glancing hit from Elvis's Locus Upper for 134 hit points!
GS: K.K. takes a solid hit from Jean's Nocturne for 90 hit points!
GS: Shieldbreak! Statuses applied to K.K.!
GS: Cyre H. Lorentz has attacked Cyre H. Lorentz with Shining Wind!
GS: Cyre H. Lorentz has attacked Cecilia Adlehyde with Shining Wind!
GS: Cyre H. Lorentz has attacked Gwen Whitlock with Shining Wind!
GS: Cyre H. Lorentz has attacked Seraph Beast with Shining Wind!
GS: Cyre H. Lorentz has attacked Seraph Lanval with Shining Wind!
GS: Cyre H. Lorentz has attacked Chime Isa with Shining Wind!
GS: Cyre H. Lorentz has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Cyre H. Lorentz has completed his action.
GS: Hyper! Statuses applied to Cyre H. Lorentz!
GS: Cyre H. Lorentz heals Cyre H. Lorentz! He gains 100 temporary hit points!
GS: Hyper! Statuses applied to Chime Isa!
GS: Cyre H. Lorentz heals Chime Isa! She gains 100 temporary hit points!
GS: Xantia takes a solid hit from Chime Isa's It's Okay! for 0 hit points!
GS: Xantia gains Restore, shortening negative statuses by 3 turns each!
GS: Seraph Beast takes a solid hit from Chime Isa's It's Okay! for 0 hit points!
GS: Seraph Beast gains Restore, shortening negative statuses by 3 turns each!
GS: Hyper! Statuses applied to Seraph Beast!
GS: Cyre H. Lorentz heals Seraph Beast! She gains 100 temporary hit points!
GS: Hyper! Statuses applied to Seraph Lanval!
GS: Cyre H. Lorentz heals Seraph Lanval! He gains 100 temporary hit points!
GS: Hyper! Statuses applied to Cecilia Adlehyde!
GS: Cyre H. Lorentz heals Cecilia Adlehyde! She gains 100 temporary hit points!
GS: Seraph Solanine takes a solid hit from Chime Isa's It's Okay! for 0 hit points!
GS: Seraph Solanine gains Restore, shortening negative statuses by 3 turns each!

<Pose Tracker> Ida Everstead-Rey has posed.

        The Hellionized Raftina falls. Darkness descends.

        Ida opens her eyes. Before her, she sees nothing but featureless darkness--featureless except for the mirror before her. She looks into it, smiles at the warmth the memory calls up. She glances to her right, and sees another mirror, where Mother reads her a bedtime story. She glances to her left, and sees herself sitting next to Father, watching him weld metal with his Dragon Torch. No one else is there.

        "...Hello?"

        Ida turns, and begins to walk. More mirrors emerge from the darkness. Ida as a child, holding newborn Sylvie in her arms, her little brother Edward standing on tip-toes so he can see too. Ida standing before the class, as garbage rains down on her from the bin Isaac and his friend just dumped on her. Ida tenses, and turns away.

        "...Fei?"

        Another mirror. In this mirror, Ida holds her baby blanket and listens, tearfully, as Mother tells Father that the pain is almost too much to bear.

        "...Elly?" Ida's voice wavers. Another mirror, and in it, graduation. That horrible night at the dig site when Professor Oxford broke a seal and unleashed the Wels.

        "Talia? Is--is anyone there?"

        No one else is there. A paper airplane flits between two mirrors, passing through. Ida stares at it, then looks at the mirrors. In the first, she stands at the railing of a ship leaving port for Ignas. In the second, she's sitting in the foyer to Kalve's cave at Wayside, waiting desperately for him to come home. Noeline comes, talks to her, convinces her to socialize. It doesn't help.

        Another mirror. Id shows up. All that the Ida in this mirror can do is laugh, because what could be more emblematic of how hopeless it all is than the Demon of Elru showing up just when things are looking up? The Waysiders look at her like she's crazy.

        They weren't wrong.

        Another mirror. Beneath Wayside, a Statue shatters, and Ida says things to Riesenlied that she can never, ever take back. Cecilia tries to strike her, and is only stopped by Claude. Another mirror. Siegfried towers over her. Before her lies the body of Enkidu, his beloved.

        You think you've changed. You're wrong. Underneath all of this, you're still the same idiot girl you've always been. No one will forgive you--not anyone who matters.

        Ida rounds a corner, and comes face-to-face with what she knew was there all along. The Umbral Mirror was never that large in life--it was some kind of malformed Iris Gem, a twisted plane of black glass. The Earthpulse vomited it up after she'd poisoned it. It was a knot of dark and terrible memories, stained with her regrets. In its heart lay a place where she could go, in her dreams. It was a calm place. It was a safe, idyllic place, where she had everything she ever wanted, and nothing could harm her. It was a place that she could only sustain with the fear and nightmares of others. It was a place deep within the Earthpulse, and with each nightmare she claimed, it grew, tick-like, until it was something she could no longer control.

        Her Hellionized self stares down at her from the Mirror's surface, her lips parted in a snarl that goes almost halfway to her ears. Ida didn't truly comprehend just how big she was until now--now that she's facing herself down.

        "Look at what YOU'VE DONE."

        The Hellion's hand breaches the skin of the Mirror, and closes around Ida's collar like a vise. Ida chokes; she's hauled off her feet, dragged after the Hellion as she retreats into the depths of their creation. The skin of the Mirror closes over them both like the icy waters of a lake in winter. It freezes behind them.

<Pose Tracker> Ida Everstead-Rey has posed.

                     I AM A CRIME THAT CANNOT BE FORGIVEN

        Ida stares into her own face, grips her Hellion-self hands tightly, even though she knows she can't break free from them. It feels like she's back in the Mirror again. The cold is closing in, and they're sinking, memories floating up like bubbles around them.

        Out of the corner of her eye, Ida sees that plane in one of them. In another she feels the pulse of the Orb, reminding her of everything at stake. Despair claws at her. Beyond lies the numbness that is not feeling anything. Ida lets out a breath, which escapes her lips as bubbles, each one of them a memory.

        --Lying there with Kalve, in the woods, looking up at the canopy of trees and wondering how old they were.

        --Sharing a meal with Garrett and Rosaline. Promising them that she'd stand by them.

        --Meeting the Beast of Lohgrin for the first time. Wondering if she'd deserved her friendship, yet needing it.

        "We hurt people," Ida whispers, to herself. The rage slowly fades from the Hellion's face. "And we hurt ourselves. That we cannot change."

        She sweeps herself into a hug. The multitool in her pocket begins to gleam. "But someone we love once told us that we weren't the weak woman we think we are. He stood with us, just as Dean did, and all the others. He knew it would not break us."

        "It strengthened us."

DG: Ida Everstead-Rey has used her Tool Multitool toward her party's challenge, In The End....

GS: Hyper! Statuses applied to Gwen Whitlock!
GS: Cyre H. Lorentz heals Gwen Whitlock! She gains 100 temporary hit points!

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Ceimglace has posed.

 'Fight with all you can.' Ceimglace doesn't fight. Lanval nails it on the head. The Mirthful Wellspring is all about joy. The Cool Songstress is all about expression. Her expression is something else entirely. Her expression is--
 
 Well, right now, it's getting assbeat. Ceimglace isn't as weak to lightning as Lanval is, but it still gives her an extra bit of a shiver. She slips down as lightning rains down on her and everyone else, biting her bottom lip as the darkness surges around her. It's almost enough. It's almost enough, but eventually, Ceimglace sits back up. She's basically on her knees, butt back between her ankles. Her hair is dirty, rats nested, and she's full of bruises.
 
 Somewhere, a tambourine chimes, sadly - but she turns to find Ragnell, still. Here.
 
 ... because, well: while this is for everyone, at it's core, it's Ragnell.
 
 Of course it is. There's water on her face. Hard to tell if tears, or Lanval. Equal odds on both.
 
 Then her head tilts up - and her voice lifts to the soaring heights, and echos across the broken and yet also whole crystal. "I love the rush... when we were close - but you won't be satisfied til we overdose... this is it! Hit the brake... I am finally at my end - let this be, let this go- You need a friend, I can provide - For this, I am qualified - so to this, I say No!"
 
 Her voice segues, the quiver still there - her body shakes, but she cannot force herself to get up. "Does this really what you want? Don't you want a life with -- us?" A pause. "That's all we ever all really want, isn't it? If you could just accept that good, maybe then - ... well... people hurt us. They've been hurting us - and yeah, that blows. But we can let go."
 
 "... is that so hard to do?"
 
 Her mouth shuts, her eyes closing. One of her own Artes curls around her frame, briefly pattering her with what is almost like snowflakes as her power settles into her own bones.

GS: Seraph Ceimglace has attacked Seraph Ceimglace with Icebrand!
GS: Seraph Ceimglace has completed her action.
GS: Seraph Ceimglace takes a solid hit from Seraph Ceimglace's Icebrand for 0 hit points!

<Pose Tracker> Elhaym van Houten has posed.

 
ELLY, with the others, turns her gaze down towards that small boy - she squeezes that hand with the impossible, sorrow-soaked kindness of a poor woman on a dying ship. "It's alright," Elly tells the small boy, without thinking. She feels empty, weary, but she can do this much. She sinks to one knee to gather the boy up and

ELLY, ALONE

feels fire and heat on her face but heat is a lively thing, a hopeful thing, and she hopes fervently. The world seems to spin and she finds herself on hands and knees as the flame eases off, and she breathes in, and she tastes blood and she tastes chemicals.

The blood is not, in itself, a shock. The chemicals are. It reminds her of -

She looks upwards.

She sees a dark face burned half off. She sees flinders of a synthetic ARM interleaved with sparkling quartz crystal and shoved through a torso. She sees a grisly inversion of throat and familiar. She sees blades crossing through a neck. She sees Fei.

Sitting on top of them is herself.

Elly speaks to her. No, it's something else. Something inside-out. It is her. Five bodies, she thinks. It matches. Are some of them -

'maybe I should take charge.'

The heat blooms outwards. There is a brief smell of burning flesh and hair and a more vivid one of paint buckling and melting and burning. Elly stares ahead and in naked reaction she presses out with the subtle flow of counter-Ether. She knows this trick. The prominence strikes against the zone of authority she exert with her will -

Divide the space between the Elly we all know and the Elly that (actually?) could be into five parts. The flame reaches the fourth part before countervailing measures push it back.

The bloody-handed Elly rolls her eyes and pushes harder.

Elly had gotten a hand on the wall to push herself partially upright and the flame nearly licks at her before she can push back. Focus comes to her with fear, lapsing into the higher state of mind that training aims to instill in you, the memory of motion and reflex that is born from your body and not your thought. Thought is strong, thought is beautiful, but thought is SLOW. Slowness, here, is death. Elly avoids it but the flame comes close enough that she feels her clothes smoulder. The thin cloth she wrapped her hair with must be burning, she thinks, or everything is.

The other Elly, the drive-Elly, the Elly with a unity of purpose says the worst thing Elly would want to hear in this moment. The other-Elly says: "That's your best, isn't it? What a joke."

Because the real Elly knows it is true. She is already damnably weary. She has already touched the wellsprings within her. She was feeling daffy and dizzy with the strain before and now she is faced with THIS.

<Pose Tracker> Elhaym van Houten has posed.

 
"You're so un-focused," the other Elly says. "Everyone told you what to do, but I suppose you were just too stupid to do it. You're like a child who stuffs its face with sugar until its pancreas rots. You know what that means on the surface, don't you? It means you die slowly. Withering..."

The other Elly exerts herself trivially. The well-known Elly struggles and raises both hands and THIS time, this time it is more than simple invisible counterpressure. This time the floating prominence runs into a veritable sparkling quartet of gathering light, crystals of ice forming and superheated water flashing to snow: quartz crystallizing from the vaporized metal and paint beyond them.

"I see what you're," the other-Elly says a moment before the corridor floor rips asunder like a melting piece of ice and the both of them fall. The other-Elly lands neatly atop the corpses of Elly's comrades, almost en pointe like a ballet dancer; Elly herself lands in a shocking heap atop a table.

I can't beat her, Elly realizes bleakly. I don't know if this is real or if it's fake. I suppose maybe I can burn off more of the Malevolence, she thinks further, but I'm going to die here in the Jugend mess t-

The fire licks towards her. Elly thrashes like a landed fish, rolling off the table as the metal laminate vaporizes in evil fumes, the seating stools melting like mushrooms in an oven. "Hggh-"

"You're probably thinking," says the Other Elly, "that oh - my friends are going to come rescue me. That they'll come for me, because I'm a Black Wolf. Fei will come rescue me, with the power they've mutilated into him." The other Elly tosses her hair and smiles down at the heap of Elly before her.

"And you feel GUILTY about it, too. I hate what you've done with my face," she says, and this time it isn't fire. This time it is wind and thunder intermingled so much that the boundary between them fades. The furnishings of Jugend's mess hall were metal on metal with the thinnest pretense of cushions and the lightning crackles among it hot enough to smelt the aluminium layers anew, the superheated vapor of metal rising upwards as the other Elly laughs into the chaos.

The unspeakable noise fades.

Elly's hair falls out. She trembles. She fumbles a little. The other Elly steps off of her heap of corpses.

Elly pulls out a thin stone tablet and says, "Sol" before the tablet erupts, fracturing into several large pieces as Elly trails off into a shriek of agony, clutching her left hand to her chest as she leaps to her feet, wailing, sobbing, gasping, hyperventilating.

The other Elly says, "The Guardians. All of this nonsense about the GUARDIANS -"

Elly herself looks down at her hand. And a piece of paper is there. She opens it.

<Pose Tracker> Elhaym van Houten has posed.

 
Her eyes water and swim.

"That's from him, isn't it?" says the other Elly. "Fine. Keep reading -"

The blow that comes is Earth and it does not strike Elly quite. The enormous rupture of metal reverting to its state of ore and glowing dully is pressed against by Elly-proper. The other Elly leaps over her position in incredulity as the floor of the mess hall collapses down into a classroom space. Physical books, which burn at 451 degrees F, ignite in the face of barely-solid metal.

The other Elly looks down. "You aren't any good at anything but LASTING LONGER. Is that the entire thing you've learned from the people of the surface?" She throws out a hand and Elly stumbles upwards and she throws herself backwards. The spike of ice fires with hyperkinetic speed into the classroom floor, part of it flashing into steam and then snow a mere foot from Elly's calf, and the other Elly walks down even as Ida's corpse flops down after her. And Elly -

Leaps into the hole.

"This is stupid," says the other Elly, who looks at the ground. It rends asunder, peeling back into a gymnasium space. The prominence of plasma comes again, and Elly doesn't try to rip out more of Jugend. Instead she runs, she runs with desperate speed, stumbling and tripping even as the soles of her boots start, at last, after so many adventures, to melt and run. She kicks open a door and scrambles through it.

The other Elly descends and hurls another bolt of incinerating flame after her and pulls a face when the result is an enormous cloud of steam whose back-pressure shoves her back approximately thirteen centimeters. Striding into the steam, which in its turn flashes to snow like a bow passing through a sunless sea, other Elly calls out, "You can't 'run', not from this. You can't run to your lover, or to your friends. You can't run to your stupid, wet, sentimental pads of an idea. No god is going to come and save you. No guardian cares if you live or die."

<Pose Tracker> Elhaym van Houten has posed.

 
"That's why I'm going to take care of them," says the other Elly, before with a sudden crack of a screaming localized hurricane, the wall on the far side of the pool - formerly an acre in size, now containing a thin layer of boiling water in the deep end - retracts, like the tin of a sardine can writ large. Pipes break. Wires rupture. Enigmatic things burst.

"There you are," says the other Elly. "You know what's past that wall."

Elly begins to answer and the storm comes for her and Elly wonders for a moment if it will be enough to simply take it and then she has a horrid thought, a horrible realization: This is a WALL - if this is really Jugend that would be one thing but is this is A WALL, what if she bursts beyond it?

And that is when Elly shoves back. Storm breaks against storm and Elly staggers forwards. The other Elly blinks once, raises her other hand, and sends another one of those veritable sheets of lightning even as Elly tries to step away from the wall. It grounds itself around her but Elly can feel her hair frizz slightly and she stumbles, and oh, she thinks as she falls to one knee hard enough for it to sting, why does it have to hurt so much.

Ice comes next and this makes the great skeleton of Jugend's structural elements complain as Elly crosses back against the changing room she remembers grimly. At the end of it Elly is seeing red, but only in one eye. She turns her head to focus towards the other Elly, for a moment, and then -- she jumps into the shallow end of the pool. She leaves the sole of one boot behind, and when the other Elly steps towards her, lip curled in disgust, Elly has pulled them both off.

They look at each other. The other Elly looks at this puffy-cheeked creature, bleeding from the lips and the nose and the tear ducts, one eye blooming red and the other focusing poorly. The other Elly sees muscle tremors and defiance. The other Elly sees weakness masquerading as something noble.

The other Elly hears words trying to be formed. A repeated 'kuh' sound.

"Don't swallow your tongue, idiot. Do you have some kind of cutting last word?"

Elly swallows. It is hard. Why is it hard? She feels her muscles complaining. She feels a strange distance from her body, as if the flesh is cooked, or wants to come off her bones. Is this dying? she wonders, before she swallows again and takes a deep breath.

The other Elly leans forwards.

Elly asks a question of herself: "Can you fly?"

The other Elly's eyes widen --

But it is too late, for the boiled-off pool of Jugend rips open in a sudden mushroom-bloom of quartz and granite.

Underneath wherever they are, there might be pure Ley, or nothing, or the heart of Filgaia. But Elly remembers what was underneath the pool in Jugend. Underneath the pool in Jugend is...

Sky.

DG: Elhaym van Houten has contributed a Wits Basic Action toward her party's challenge, In The End....

======================<* Birth of a Wish ~ In The End *>======================
=======================<* CHALLENGE - In The End... *>========================
|Type: Final       |Dungeon Ability: Wits      |Challenge Rating: 2          | 
--------------------------< Challenge Information: >--------------------------
 The putrid heart of the fallen Raftina shatters. And so too shatters the      
 twisted knot of a doomed world, the skies and lands crumbling like glass      
 struck through by a rock.                                                     
                                                                               
 The Anomalous Orb pulses powerfully as that penultimate ward dissolves. It    
 DRAGS you in towards the dissolving landscape.                                
                                                                               
 You feel the knot of space before everything becomes darkness.                
                                                                               
 There is strength in numbers. Strength in friendship. Strength in bonds. But  
 sometimes...                                                                  
                                                                               
 ... strength must come from oneself, and oneself alone.                       
                                                                               
 There is nothing. No one there. No voices to greet you. None of your          
 companions to hear you. You are alone. Adrift, in emptiness. Drawn further    
 and further in, until...                                                      
                                                                               
                                     Ida                                       
                                                                               
                   I AM THE CRIME THAT CANNOT BE FORGIVEN                      
                                                                               
 Ida awakens to an endless hall of mirrors. Each a different size, each a      
 different shape.                                                              
                                                                               
 Each reflecting something different.                                          
                                                                               
 At first, it is reflections of her. Ida as a child, full of wonder and awe    
 at the sight of the Dragon Boneyard. Ida, older, prepared to make a name for  
 herself. Ida, beset by self-doubt and envy. And more, and more, different     
 facets of the same woman. Further still, the mirrors stop reflecting her.     
 Instead, they begin to reflect her failings. The things she inflicted upon    
 others in her anger. The violence. Glimpses of Castle Rabenstein. The         
 Furies. An Earthpulse. A mirror...                                            
                                                                               
 ... and at the very end of the hall waits the Umbral Mirror. Reflecting Ida,  
 hellionized, full of cold rage, the furnace within her burning.               
                                                                               
 "Look at what YOU'VE DONE."                                                   
                                                                               
 Screaming words prefacing a dark hand lurching out of the wobbling grasp of   
 the mirror, gripping to try to drag her into its depths.                      
                                                                               
                                   Catenna                                     
                                                                               
                    I AM THE FATE THAT CANNOT BE DETERRED                      
                                                                               
 Catenna finds herself back in that familiar wilderness on the fringes of      
 Elesius. It still lives here, for a certain value of living. The sight of     
 crackling fires lie beyond. The warmth of home's temporary hearth, ever on    
 the fringes of the ones who now occupy their old home.                        
                                                                               
 The sound of something hitting the ground. A body, landed in a crouch. They   
 rise, wearing a gi that obscures their form, an angry mask that hides their   
 face. Claws glint in their hand.                                              
                                                                               
 Another falls. And another. Another. Another and another and another. All of  
 them wearing masks. All of them bearing claws. All of them hostile, as if     
 Catenna was not recognized. Was not welcome.                                  
                                                                               
 They lunge. They grasp. They are endless. They try to grip and drag her down  
 into the mass of faceless bodies. To become one of them -- or be unmade.      
                                                                               
                                    Talia                                      
                                                                               
                  I AM THE PUNISHMENT THAT CANNOT BE OUTRUN                    
                                                                               
 There is blood on her hands. So much blood. It stains them red as if they     
 could never be cleaned.                                                       
                                                                               
 Before her, a silhouette of an older man, and a younger. A man's familiar     
 voice.                                                                        
                                                                               
 "I do not have room for two mistakes."                                        
                                                                               
 The older man leads the younger away, to someplace dark. Someplace terrible.  
 The younger spares a single glance back at Talia, and then he walks. If she   
 tries to reach them, she will find others holding her back. Men, women.       
 Young, old. Familiar faces. Faces of victims. Weighing her down.              
                                                                               
 A pair of hands on her shoulders. A woman's voice, also familiar.             
                                                                               
 "What right do you have to save anyone,                                       
  with all that blood on your hands?"                                          
                                                                               
                                  Josephine                                    
                                                                               
                   I AM THE PAST THAT WILL NOT BE ESCAPED                      
                                                                               
 A small house. Simple, but warm. It is Josephine's. It hasn't stood in        
 years. But it does now. Just like she remembered it. Frozen in a perfect      
 slice of time. The weather is spring, warm. Full of life. The smell of        
 cooking fills the air.                                                        
                                                                               
 At a dining table, another woman waits with a small smile. She looks          
 similar. Younger, but not by much. She waits for Josephine to tell her the    
 story of her latest job.                                                      
                                                                               
 Outside, a fire burns away at the fields, at earth and rock and towns and     
 cities. It spreads everywhere but that house. Destroying everything.          
 Everyone. Friends. Family. Memories.                                          
                                                                               
 Everyone but the two women in this perfect slice of time one could just       
 drown in.                                                                     
                                                                               
                                     Fei                                       
                                                                               
                    I AM THE SYSTEM THAT CANNOT BE UNDONE                      
                                                                               
 Fei sits in an office building. The architecture looks vaguely modern, but    
 hard to place. There is no style like it that exists in this era in anything  
 save desolated ruins.                                                         
                                                                               
 Fei is filing paperwork. Documents and proposals. Another Fei enters. Takes   
 it. Looks it through. Stamps 'DENIED' across its surface. Hands him a new     
 set of paperwork. Walks away.                                                 
                                                                               
 In the office beyond, there are other Feis. Countless others. Different       
 hairstyles. Different expressions. Personalities. But they are all him. All   
 the him that came before. All his immediate supervisors. Shaping what he can  
 do, what he can say, what he can be. The windows leading outside show         
 glimpses of what Fei's body perceives. An endless dark. A twisted not of      
 space shining with peculiar radiance. But he cannot reach out and take it.    
 Not without approval from his immediate supervisors, of course.               
                                                                               
 A cog in a machine far bigger than he will ever be--                          
                                                                               
                                   Elhaym                                      
                                                                               
                    I AM THE NATURE THAT CANNOT BE DENIED                      
                                                                               
 Heat dries at Elly's eyes the instant they begin to crack open. The ground    
 beneath her is craggy and parched. The skies featureless and indistinct. The  
 strange smell of laboratory sanitation, sterile and chemical, fills her       
 nostrils.                                                                     
                                                                               
 Beyond the heated smudge of her blurred vision, she'll find she's not alone.  
                                                                               
                                                                               
 She has herself to keep her company.                                          
                                                                               
 Elhaym Van Houtan, dressed in full Gebler regalia. Blood splatters decorate   
 the pristine white of her Solaris garb. Smears across her cheek. Decorates    
 the corner of her smiling lips. Her eyes are wide, delighted.                 
                                                                               
 She sits on a pile of bodies. Ida... Catenna... Talia... Josephine.......     
 Fei.                                                                          
                                                                               
 "This is us," she explains, matter-of-factly. "You're pathetic. Why try to    
 deny what we can be?" Her voice warbles. Grows tinny.                         
                                                                               
 "If you refuse to understand us, maybe I should take charge."                 
                                                                               
 Her right hand rises. Anomalous force explodes from one ether-infused palm    
 in a tremendous lash of plasmic heat. It will burn everything. Scour Elly to  
 ash. Burn away the surface of the planet. Scorch everyone who ever stood in   
 her way or made her feel small. And she turns the focused totality of a       
 star, unbridled and unleashed --                                              
                                                                               
 --on herself.                                                                 
                                                                               
 ---                                                                           
                                                                               
 Space twists. Turns. Knots. In the dark, there is a peculiar radiance. Do     
 you have the strength on your own?                                            
                                                                               
 fight                                                                         
=Dungeon Conditions: S

=================<* Birth of a Wish ~ In The End - Round 5 *>=================
=========================< Results - In The End... >==========================
Player                               Exhaustion                      Pass/Fail
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ida Everstead-Rey                   35 --(0)--> 35                 Pass
Multitool                           2   Wits    Effects: Enlighten            
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Catenna                             35 --(0)--> 35                 Pass
Saarda-Shanta                       1   Wits    Effects: Cleanse              
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Josephine Lovelace                  35 --(0)--> 35                 Pass
Penelope                            3   Wits    Effects: Resilient and Liabili
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Talia                               35 --(0)--> 35                 Pass
Lt. Keil's Notebook                 1   Wits    Effects: Cleanse              
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Fei Fong Wong                       30 --(0)--> 30                 Pass
Artist's Toolkit                    2   Wits    Effects: Enlighten            
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Elhaym van Houten                   35 --(5)--> 40                 Fail
Investigate                         0   Wits    Effects: BASIC                
----------------------------------< Party >-----------------------------------
Leader: Ida Everstead-Rey           90 --(25)--> 115               Pass
Conditions: Hesitate(1)|Suffer(1)
Effects: Cleanse|Enlighten(1)|Resilient(1)
==============================< Dream Chasers >===============================

DG: The party led by Ida Everstead-Rey has successfully explored Birth of a Wish ~ In The End!

======================<* Birth of a Wish ~ In The End *>======================
=====================<* CHALLENGE - ... There is Love *>======================
|Type: Discovery   |Dungeon Ability: Conclusion|Challenge Rating: 1          | 
--------------------------< Challenge Information: >--------------------------
 The knot unwinds.                                                             
                                                                               
 The darkness retracts, snaps back like a rubber band released from a taut     
 grip. Suddenly, all that endless space begins to unravel at the seams         
 surrounding you. It gives way to brief glimpses of the outside world, to the  
 grand foyer where the others are embroiled in their fight to give you the     
 time -- the opportunity -- you need.                                          
                                                                               
 To succeed.                                                                   
                                                                               
 There is a familiar feeling of warmth. Of love. Something embraces you,       
 carrying you past the fallen wards of this crumbling space. The familiar      
 pulse of the Ley surrounds you...                                             
                                                                               
                                                It is time.                    
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                     ---                                       
                                                                               
 Fei, Ida, Catenna, Elly, Talia and Josephine all return to Love's Cradle in   
 a surge of Ley-infused light. As they do, the dense space surrounding this    
 sanctuary-turned-battlefield begins to fall apart. The Wards of the Trial     
 Knight falter. What looked once like empty space falters and peels away.      
                                                                               
 And in its place, it leaves the truth:                                        
                                                                               
 The Anomalous Orb, affixed to the Ark Scepter, floating in the air in a wide  
 open space just beyond K.K. and Ragnell. Runes below open a gleaming gateway  
 somewhere else. Into the Ley. To where the heart of a Guardian Lord resides.  
                                                                               
                                                                               
 The Anomalous Orb shines like a black sun as the Malevolence within reaches   
 its apex. It is exposed...                                                    
                                                                               
 ... but that, in turn, is a two way street.                                   
                                                                               
 And all that Malevolence beyond shielded beyond that ward is unleashed.       
                                                                               
 The Malevolence absorbed from Port Timney. From the Hollow. From Lahan.       
                                                                               
 The Malevolence absorbed from the Baskar Sacred Grounds. From Wehaca.         
                                                                               
 The Malevolence absorbed from Krosse.                                         
                                                                               
 It is monumental. It is overwhelming.                                         
                                                                               
 It begins to flood the senses. Warp the nature of space. Cause bizarre        
 phenomenon to waylay and crush the soul. Pull deep at the heart. The          
 Malevolence meant for a Guardian Lord reaches its peak, ready to fire. What   
 hope do you have?                                                             
                                                                               
 Within the maelstrom, just as it begins to overwhelm, there is a voice:       
                                                                               
                                   Where there is love, we find courage.       
                                                                               
                                                                               
                           Where there is courage                              
                                                                               
                     there is always                                           
                                                                               
                hope.                                                          
                                                                               
 A light in the darkness.                                                      
=Dungeon Conditions: Save Point===============================================

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Beast has posed.

        Don't be scared...

        "... I will try," says the Beast of Lohgrin, to Gwen. "We band together." Not only them - but the others, the ones who slipped past, who must see to the Orb while they keep K.K. and Ragnell occupied.

        The Beast has no illusions of besting them. For three hundred years she fought wolves and wildcats, and they were poor training for the battles evidenced within the world of Man. But if she can just endure this...

        If she can possibly endure this.

        She tries; she fights. K.K. answers her wavering conviction with an iron grasp, clamping headpieces together, pushing iron tooth into iron tooth. Their grip drags indents into the metal as it tightens, further, further. She does not need lips to speak. "D-- do not speak as if you know me..." As if they know her so well, as if they can see past metal to the pulsing eddies of her heart.

        K.K. shoves her away and her pieces scatter, briefly, and she must take precious moments to reform herself. With hollow eyes she realises the ground she has picked herself up from is decorated. Ragnell summons a vast Seraphic glyph, and it is not the first time the Beast has seen power which far outstrips her own. Suddenly she is painfully aware of the vessel she has chosen, its conductive properties, and perhaps she is vulnerable.

        Up, up, up, and there is Ragnell, as if she were right before her. "No," answers the Beast, in frank and useless honesty. It is a peculiar response for an immortal being. After all...

        ... well.

        There's no time for insecurities, now.

        There's only time for Indignation.

        Lightning finds metal immediately; the iron glows hot under the electric pressure. It would be bad enough. But here, now, is a blade, liquid black, and it slides through metal plates like heated butter. Someone is screaming. The Beast realises only belatedly that it is her.

        Lightning and shadow and then it is white, white, white, and let us ask the question: what is death, to a deathless creature? How is a spirit condemned?

        Perhaps it is a thing begun in the mouths of dragons.

        It hurts.

        The Beast of Lohgrin isn't screaming any more.

        The Beast of Lohgrin isn't moving any more.

        She has no eyes to see, no ears to hear. But the air whispers, oh, it whispers, and it hates to see her pain. And this is the Leyline's love, the love of another; please, please be okay.

        It is the little whisper which trails out to the words of an exile, and a plate tilts in two pieces so a hollow eye might regard Lanval. She isn't hiding..?

        Chime Isa affirms the worth of life, and she remembers: she has always wished to protect them.

        And the wind carries light, as Cyre, emboldened, rallies them to the cause. They are eddies which pull at the stifled air of the vessel, tug it into flowing about its metal once more. To stand, aside from history and ready to strike.

        The Beast of Lohgrin stands. Metal twisted in places by lightning, plates carved in twain about one side of her - but she has never had blood to bleed. It is air which keeps her, air which forms her. It is air which picks up about her in a gale, sending scoured earth scattering.

        "Ragnell," she says, and she does not sound angry. She sounds so, so sad. "I... I want us to be able to walk away from this whole. I want us to meet again, and again. I want to learn so much from you..."

        A mask cannot reflect anything at all.

        "... but I shall not learn the lesson that humanity is not worth saving. I refuse to condemn them."

        The gale pours forth, and still she does not want to hurt her.

GS: Seraph Beast has attacked Seraph Ragnell with Howling Gale!
GS: Seraph Beast has completed her action.

<Pose Tracker> Xantia has posed.

And what shall happen when you protect them from every suffering?

A question worth considering, perhaps. But at the moment, Xantia has stopped questioning complicated things. She's acting purely on emotion. As such, her response is immediate.

"What kind of question is t--"

She doesn't get to finish what she was going to say, leaping back and shielding her face from the rubble scattered by the following assault levied against K.K.. While it might have been reasonable to assume that it would be over with that, normally speaking, right now Xantia doesn't believe that for a second, remaining on guard.

This was a wise decision, as several shadow weapons are summoned in short order. Dual blade meets energy blade, rapidly summoned to protect herself as she saw that one coming her way just in time. The force of the blow knocked her back, stumbling, out of the immediate danger zone... or so it seemed.

In all this, there was a great oversight. Ragnell. Xantia shouldn't have taken her eyes off Ragnell. It's hard not to pay attention following the appearance of that huge glyph on the floor, however. By then, she feels that it's already too late to even still try to escape.

But she's pretty sure she knows what's coming. It's Ragnell, so has to be lightning. Which means she has one trump card left to play.

To the outside observer, it will not look like Xantia managed to act in time. Lightning roils and cracks, spreading across the battlefield, catching her in its wake. In fact, the lightning looks particularly bright and turbulent where she's standing, as if it for some reason singled her out for some extra punishment.

However, the true cause is briefly visible as the storm dies down: a translucent image bearing the likeness of the Guardian of Lightning. Slowly, a knelt-down Xantia raises her left hand, clutching a medium of Noua Shax. Lightning to protect against lightning: her fiery aura is replaced with one of electricity, bolstered by invoking the power of her medium. Though still a harrowing experience, it made it possible to weather the storm, and still have the strength to rise back up to her feet.

There isn't a moment's respite, as draconic entities given shape by K.K. immediately follow up, a mass of dark energy engulfing her. Her empowered aura does little to protect her against that. Statements of positive encouragement, however...

Life is beautiful. It is precious. And it must be protected.

Strike now! Shake off the weight of history! As long as we're alive, we can write our OWN future!

They cause her to push back. Back against the shadow. Against the burning light that lingers. And forward, through it all, refusing to give in, no matter what, forcing her body to keep moving. Manipulation through Ether working overtime to ignore her pain and fatigue.

"...That's the best part about a fight where everything's at stake," she breathes out, managing a smile in spite of everything. "Your only option is to win."

With that, she leaps up, waaaaay up, gathering all the electricity that surrounded her body into her hands. She doesn't bother to shape it in any way, merely gathering a huge lightning ball, then angling herself downwards, fists first. It's no Indignation, but when her hammer blow hits the floor, it still sends a tremendous amount of lightning towards K.K.... and Ragnell, as well. Fair is fair Xantia's pretty sure Ragnell can handle a little lightning, anyway.

And then she rises, calmly, from the smoking crater left behind at her point of impact. Now, she finally has an answer to that original question, in the form of another question.

"And what would happen to all the people if you succeeded? Maybe my answer isn't great, but yours isn't any better."

GS: Xantia has activated a Force Action!
GS: Xantia has spent 3 Combo on Gatling, including 2 on Gatling!
GS: Xantia has attacked K.K. with Megavolt Hammer!
GS: Xantia has attacked Seraph Ragnell with Megavolt Hammer!
GS: Xantia has completed her action.

<Pose Tracker> Cecilia Adlehyde has posed.

        'It'd be a shame if you ended up broken when you've still got so much more left ahead o' you.'

Threat? Encouragement? Ragnell's inscrutable ways ways makes it indecipherable for Cecilia, and it's uncommonly neutral for the Seraph anyway. But the words...

        >shaman...

"Yes," Cecilia murmurs. I do have a lot ahead of me, don't I?" For instance: Ragnell. Cecilia's eyes widen a hair, sensing tha tpower gathering. "Had this in you the whole time, did you?" she says, seeing the heavens sundering. She thrusts her arm up, her staff, her hair blown back, her clothes pinned against her by blustering forces. But she doesn't move. Her feet steady. Her muscles hurt, and her shield crackles with the energies she finds herself resisting, but though she trembles, she does not break.

        >Shaman.

Cecilia's eyes turn to K.K., then, the Trial Knight rallying unimaginable powers - literal, in that Cecilia has had no inkling that the Trial Knight possessed such dark glories. Let all who have not the strength....

It hits. The draconic power, the accursed light accompaniying it, swirling, surging, biting down on her and consuming her shield, casting her directly to the stones, her knee giving out, her hands clutching to her staff, forcing it up. "I won't....I WON'T....!!"

The darkness invades the barrier, blotting out the light. But...

        >Cecilia!

A spark of Ley through the barrier, and a fountain of counterpoint light pierces out, scattering the shadow about her. Cecilia, an internal glow she doesn't fully understand fading, forces herself up, struggling against her staff to force a foot underneath her. "...I remember," she murmurs. "I made a promise..."

One of her Mediums flits up around her, circling. Water. Schturdark. "But it wasn't time, was it?"

Fire, Earth. Flitting about on the whirls of her own personal Leypoint. The fortress she has constructed of magic, against magic.

She's talking to herself now. To the presence she feels, no matter what peril it brings.

Fengalon circles her, channeling his Shaman's light into her, bolstering her, filling her with strength. "It's not fair," Cecilia murmurs.

        >No. It isn't. And I am sorry.

Cecilia finds tears in her eyes as her head hangs. "You're not," she whispers. "That's the problem. You can't be."

The Mediums flare, but do not surge apart, as a fifth rises to the fore. It bursts, filling Cecilia with its light and manifesting in her glory, the leonid Lightning Guardian screaming defiance and showing its own crackling power to the world - its mouth yawning open and releasing a BEAM of lightning into the Trial Knight, blasting into that armor with crackling fury.

GS: Cecilia Adlehyde has activated a Force Action!
GS: Cecilia Adlehyde has spent 4 Combo on Gatling, including 3 on Gatling!
GS: Cecilia Adlehyde has attacked K.K. with Material - Rage Hammer!
GS: Cecilia Adlehyde has completed her action.
GS: Seraph Ragnell takes a glancing hit from Jean's Nocturne for 74 hit points!
GS: Shieldbreak! Statuses applied to Seraph Ragnell!
GS: Seraph Ragnell takes a glancing hit from Seraph Clarine's Radiant Cannonade for 92 hit points!
GS: Seraph Ragnell takes a glancing hit from Seraph Beast's Howling Gale for 77 hit points!
GS: Seraph Ragnell takes a glancing hit from Xantia's Megavolt Hammer for 108 hit points!
GS: K.K. takes a solid hit from Xantia's Megavolt Hammer for 145 hit points!
GS: K.K. takes a solid hit from Cecilia Adlehyde's Material - Rage Hammer for 105 hit points!

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

        It took Gwen a moment to realize just what happened between Jean and Ragnell. Wait, Ragnell was- Oh. OH.

        'Then I guess it's time to get *really* serious. K.K.! I'll soften 'em up for ya, so make sure you finish the job, yeah?!'

        Gwen's freckled cheeks go from flushed red to stark white as she begins to put up her arms in front of her defensively. Her powerful, but ultimately reckless move from earlier has exerted its toll on the courier, so when Ragnell's coy cry of Indignation sounds, whatever ability Gwen had to resist the flow of her electricity is subdued, leaving her open and exposed to the blinding light of K.K.'s serpents.

        It's too much.

        Gwen falls to her side, against the ground.

        And tell me, what happens when nothing works, and you find yourself completely and crushingly alone...


        She supposes, in that moment, that maybe it was better this way. Give back the power she selfishly stole from the Guardians, even if it may be little more than a drop in an ocean or something more significant. She was a human being who denied death far too many times, had gotten away with living despite having every reason and every card stacked in favor of an early end. Gotten away, on the basis of lucky draws.

        What better way, than to die the very way she intended to? How lucky could a person like her get?

        I am disappointed. You weren't ready before. But you survived. And yet, now...


        The fingers of her right hand twitch.

        No. It wasn't luck. It was sweat, tears, pain, and, most importantly, love. To be a part of the world is to know some sort of love. That friend of hers said it himself, after all, giving her that smile.

        'This world is made of-'

        Her right hand twitches again.
        
        Her death was never hers to so recklessly, so selfishly accept. Not when so many people had done so much to keep her alive. There were too many people still waiting for her. Silas had no one left who remembered his past. Frea could never accept Gwen dying before she did.

        _Death is not a mercy to those who still want to live._

        She can see it now, the power of the Ley beneath her.

        She can hear a voice. Cyre's. Flowing winds, bringing visions of the sky from her memory.

        Something in her ARM whirls to life.


        She lifts herself off the ground, dazedly, and stands. Her eyes look to Ragnell, and soften. No, Ragnell knows her. K.K., on the other hand...

        Gwen's ARM rears back to life, showing the same output as before, miraculously. "It's too bad..."

        The hand centers its aim on the Trial Knight.

        "I wish all of life's adversities were as honest and polite about it as you are."

        She fires, the shock of the blast jerking her ARM back in the aftermath.

GS: Gwen Whitlock has activated a Force Action!
GS: Gwen Whitlock has activated a Force Action!
GS: Gwen Whitlock has spent 3 Combo on Gatling, including 2 on Gatling!
GS: Gwen Whitlock has attacked K.K. with Corona Discharge!
GS: Gwen Whitlock has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Gwen Whitlock has completed her action.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Solanine has posed.

Gasping for something like breath, more a reflex of pain, Seraph Solanine parses the last few moments in her mind, putting them together in between flashes of intense pain.

First Ragnell invoked what Solanine hopes is supreme among her Seraphic Artes. For the grand pomp and ritual preceding the attack, she can think of nothing more deserving than what transpired, a bolt striking with all the power of the heavens. A bolt Solanine stood in defiance of. The Shadow Seraph struck Ragnell only moments before with such energy that the excess fell back onto her protective shadows and reinforced them. So emboldened she thought to show Ragnell the proof of her mettle by withstanding the grand manifestation of her friend's will.

And ultimately, she did, though not without great price.

Ragnell's Indignation scattered the ambient field of shadow petals that reinforced her armor, and pierced through her armor. Then it all goes white and for a time, all Sola can recall is pain. + when her vision returns, Solanine finds herself much worse for wear, but still standing...

Next she remembers the ascent of K.K. The former Trial Knight, and self proclaimed Adversary, and wave after wave of weaponry. Blessed by the Goddess! By Darkness!

To be so assaulted by her own element of Althena's Blessing... The pain of the first weapon that hits catches her completely by surprise, such an alien, shocking feeling, being struck by the Divine Darkness of another. When the other weapons follow suit, she shakes off her surprise and rallies her Element, herself, to her defense. The ambient nightshade petals return, and her armor begins to form. Except when pieces form, the weapons strike, and cleave them off again, and when the weapons become serpents, and dragons, Solanine's shadow has no time to even take forms, just being raw darkness in protection, projecting itself forth against them.

Her mind so clouded with pain, it's to the Shadow Seraph's own surprise that she's still standing once the dragons dissipate. Brutalized by lightning, light and darkness, because she has something to stand for, if only for now. She stands.

Then she feels it. A creeping burn and decay that lingers beyond the blasts, and she smiles as she recognizes the feeling.

 She dismisses the shadows on her sword, reverting it to a thrusting blade, and she thrusts it downward into the ground.

She leans on it for support, and summons shadows to herself, but not as armor, they're weaker now, and only make up to her legs. She fashions them into black roots and vines, with a small flowering as she manages. If she must be routed here, she will continue to stand, because she something has something to stand for. Is that "shomethin' precioush?" as the words of Seraph Lanval so... eloquently(?)... reach her ears? She listens to the rest of what he has to say, as he rallies the Seraphim, and she wonders. Is he right? Is that why she's here?

No small reasons are the other factors she claimed to herself for being here. To save new friends. To save A world, if not her own. To be the will and instrument of a higher power to whom she owes so much, or at least to what they once stood for. To be the will and instrument of a mortal's wish, their own life cut short by the frailty of their existence, to find a sort of eternal life in the heart of an immortal. Is it because all these things give certainty and purpose to one who'd gone human lifetimes without it? Is that why she stood before such terrible forces, and insists on standing even when it would be so easy to fall. To succumb to the poison making its way through her form, corrupting her holy darkness with the poison... holy darkness. She laughs. She can't help it. Of all the ways to be brought down... By a knight... wielding holy darkness... and not through force, but by their poison... She waits for it to envelope her, and laughs again almost relishing the feeling of such an end... if it's an end... is it...

 Then the waves hit her. A wave of Love from the Ley, whispering things she doesn't understand, but feels all the same. A wave of Water from the Mirthful Spring, whispering courage. A wave of energy from Chime Isa, with words of history and their place.

Solanine stands, and darkness gathers to her again. She projects giant black thrusting swords of her wrath at both K.K and Ragnell together, erupting from the shadows beneath them as darkness returns to her sword and to armor her again.

GS: Seraph Solanine has activated a Force Action!
GS: Seraph Solanine has spent 1 Combo on Disease, including 0 on Gatling!
GS: Seraph Solanine has attacked Seraph Ragnell with Datura Vitae!
GS: Seraph Solanine has attacked K.K. with Datura Vitae!
GS: Seraph Solanine has gained 1 Combo!
GS: Seraph Solanine has completed her action.
GS: Seraph Ragnell takes a solid hit from Seraph Solanine's Datura Vitae for 109 hit points!
GS: Seraph Ragnell has been weakened by Disease! They take 0 damage, and burn off all temporary hit points!
GS: Disease! Statuses applied to Seraph Ragnell!
GS: Seraph Solanine drains Seraph Ragnell! Seraph Solanine gains 54 temporary hit points!
GS: CRITICAL! K.K. takes a glancing hit from Gwen Whitlock's Corona Discharge for 72 hit points!
GS: Jam! Statuses applied to K.K.!
GS: Hyper! Statuses applied to Gwen Whitlock!
GS: K.K. takes a glancing hit from Seraph Solanine's Datura Vitae for 25 hit points!
GS: Disease! Statuses applied to K.K.!
GS: Seraph Solanine drains K.K.! Seraph Solanine gains 12 temporary hit points!

<Pose Tracker> K.K. has posed.

Motes of shadow and light dance along crackling arcs of electricity. The knight rises amidst that hazy splendor slowly, the shine of their armor making them practically blend in to the suffusing radiance as if they were part of it. The spear dissolves from their grasp. All around them are bodies.

"... 'tis it, then. Very well."

They turn, back towards those fallen forms as they make their way towards that glowing door. So very little of the wards remain. Every pulse of the Anomalous Orb feels that much more intense because it is -that much- closer to being revealed with every knot of space unraveled.

"They came so far," the knight murmurs to themself, voice barely even a whisper. Their glowing, clawed hand rests on that door. Fingers tremble.

"But perchance it was..."

Your tactics... may work on weaker bodied... individuals, but you have... to do better on me!

The Drifters are fallen.

Life is beautiful. It is precious. And it must be protected.

I... I want us to be able to walk away from this whole. I want us to meet again, and again. I want to learn so much from you...

...That's the best part about a fight where everything's at stake. Your only option is to win.

...Your spell. ... It must have failed.

Leon's fangs-- Hurt way more than this!

They turn, slowly, from the door.

The tides shan't wash it away yet...!

If I fell here...she would cry. I don't want to make her cry again...

Fallen.

I made a promise...

Not defeated.

"..."

There is no angry declamation from the Trial Knight. No roar of disbelief, no accusation of impossibility. They turn. They stare as the Drifters rise, rally themselves, ready to fight an unwinnable fight all the more to buy time. To get their chance. Their sliver of opportunity. To win.

To save, everything.

And the Adversary...

"... I see."

It is hard to say, what is in the content of those words, warped by metal as they are. Disappointment? Anger? Disbelief?

Happiness?

        Pride...?

They come. Cyre uses the very electricity in the room towards his own ends. Elvis FIRES upon the knight, blowing off chunks of armor that instantly reform before hitting them with an open blow that actually manages to -knock- the unleashed K.K. off their feet. They are caught within the field of Xantia's lightning soon after, -blown- back with a crackling surge that dances across the searing white of their frame as they hit ground in a tumble.

Maybe my answer isn't great, but yours isn't any better.

"There are few that are, Xantia."

Her name. Not child. Not girl. They speak her name. Plainly, and without pretense.

"We do what we can with what we are given in this life."

And then, the dance. A final dance. A dance of goodbye, every bend of elbow and flex of knee providing a graceful storm of technique. The Trial Knight cracks against an unbowed pillar, their voice for Jean alone.

"You know not the nature of your strength," they say.

"Is it naught but weakness, to be a destroyer?"

It is a question that Jean, perhaps, will not have time to answer --

I wish all of life's adversities was as honest and polite about it as you are.

Not before the blast of Gwen's arm -knocks- K.K. away, sending them reeling from the dancer and her final dance of farewell with a thunderclap CRACK.

They stumble, briefly.

"... Were that I was."

Swords of inky blackness erupt beneath them, providing just enough force to unsettle them. Just enough to make them so briefly lose their footing -- just as they see Cecilia. Brimming with the Ley. With a certain touch that is unmistakable. They see it.

"... Know you the true nature of love?" they ask, in those waning seconds as the Guardian of Lightning manifests.

"'Tis the sentiment weakest to Malevolence..."

And fires.

"... and yet it is also the sentiment strongest against it."

Cra-KOOM

Bending arcs of lightning blow the knight -away-; their arms reach up, guarding against the torrent as it conducts throughout their entire body. They crash; a balcony above collapses on them. And yet...

"You fought well."

BOOM

Slowly, they emerge. From all the wounds of the sanctum, the Ley throbs and pulses. The space here winds, twists on itself.

The door begins to tremble.

"But 'twas too late."

<Pose Tracker> K.K. has posed.

---

Within that world of wards and knotted space, the last binding is undone. The walls between the Drifters that dare to break it down crack apart. The darkness dissolves. They are no longer alone. They are no longer apart. With each onion peel of wound space, one by one, they are revealed to each other...

... and in turn, revealed to the world.

It is sudden and bizarre, the non-euclidean way that space snaps BACK into place, revealing an entire section of this sanctuary that simply wasn't -there- before. Talia, Fei, Catenna, Elly, Ida, and Josephine are all once more deposited into Love's Cradle, where that battlefield rages. The wards behind them collapse, peeling away, to reveal...

The Anomalous Orb, affixed to the Ark Scepter, floating in the air in a wide open space just beyond K.K. and Ragnell. Runes below open a gleaming gateway somewhere else. Into the Ley. To where the heart of a Guardian Lord resides.

The Anomalous Orb shines like a black sun as the Malevolence within reaches its apex. It is exposed...

... but that, in turn, is a two way street.

And all that Malevolence beyond shielded beyond that ward is unleashed.

The Malevolence absorbed from Port Timney. From the Hollow. From Lahan.

The Malevolence absorbed from the Baskar Sacred Grounds. From Wehaca.

The Malevolence absorbed from Krosse.

It is monumental. It is overwhelming.

It begins to flood the senses. Warp the nature of space. Cause bizarre phenomenon to waylay and crush the soul. Pull deep at the heart. The Malevolence meant for a Guardian Lord reaches its peak, ready to fire. What hope do you have?

The maelstrom intensifies. It is a force of nature. It is years of accumulated contradiction. It seizes hold of the elements that linger here still.

The water from Elvis and Lanval still suspended in midair, warp and black and -twist- into twining snakes of impurity as it soaks them through in anomalous corruption, creating a storm of unclean liquid threatening to flood everything.

The fire that still lingers from Xantia's assault because of the strange nature of this place, twisting into bruise-colored tongues of discordance, gouts of it exploding from the earth, racing a path towards Chime --

The electricity becomes a great and terrible storm. The shadows and light bend and twist into blistering, unnatural phenomenon.

It begins to spread, as that Orb begins to tremble.

It is approaching critical mass.

Almost ready to fire.

What hope?

                A soft spark thrums through the senses...

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Ragnell has posed.

        Ragnell dips down with Jean, and Jean responds in kind. As they rise up, Ragnell gazes down at her, then smiles as they part. Jean had been the one to come on to her, that day; it'd been a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. They part, and Ragnell calls down her power, and Jean has her miracle, becoming one with darkness to avoid the light. But then the darkness comes for her, and Jean decries the Adversary's logic even as she dances with a light not her own, swaying that power into Ragnell, forcing her back as she has to shield herself.
        
        "You think that's not strength?" Ragnell murmurs to Jean, and she doesn't mean the attack she just made, a razored barb in the silk-and-velvet grace of her dance. "You really don't think much o' yourself, do you? Jean... There's a world o' difference between 'power' and 'strength.'" She pauses a beat, then nods over to Lemina, even now focusing on defense with walls of ice. Ragnell's got a feeling there won't be much need for that for much longer. "...Take care o' Lemina. Think we got her spooked." She smiles crookedly. "Not that she'd ever admit it, huh?"
        
        To Elvis, when he criticizes her for not fighting fair, Ragnell calls, "I mean--was I supposed to?"
        
        To Lanval, when he is battered down with lightning and darkness and thus seeks refuge in drink, when he has words for the other Seraphim but sinks in on himself, Ragnell says, "But you survived." A perhaps surprisingly positive sentiment, considering all that's transpired during this battle. But... in the end, she does still consider Lanval a friend, no matter how much those bonds may be broken on the Water Seraph's end.
        
        Cyre expresses the opinion that since he's an avatar of wind, lightning shouldn't affect him. Well, okay, Cyre, Ragnell thinks. You do you.
        
        Cecilia observes that Ragnell had far more power in reserve than she'd ever displayed in battle previously. "That's why they call it an ace up your sleeve, Cece," she replies. "Put another way, a skilled shamaness hides her claws." She winks. "Right?"
        
        Ceimglace pours forth emotion through song, expressing regret, friendship, sorrow... and hope. Ragnell, who's always loved song, favors her with a small but soft smile as she hums briefly along with the melody. "I get what you're sayin'," she replies. Her smile fades. "But it *is* that hard to do. I have a good reason for it. But I won't tell you why."

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Ragnell has posed.

        Xantia is indeed right that Ragnell can handle a little lightning. Not that there's anything 'little' about her attack; Ragnell leaps back to avoid a direct hit, and *still* is knocked far further back than she intended to in the wake of that cratering fist. She clutches the ground when she lands and whistles; Xantia always is something else. "Long as you're not *eating* my artes, Xan, I'll take it," she remarks. Whatever that means.
        
        Beast takes especially poorly to the power of Indignation. Still, she manages to rise up, and return wind for lightning, gale force for divine thunder. That windstorm in particular helps carry her back, close to the Ley, far too close for comfort, combining with Xantia's assault to great effect. When her footing is secure again, Ragnell calls back, "That's very sweet o' you, Beast. But we can't always get what we want. Maybe in another life, yeah?"
        
        Gwen expresses a strange sort of gratitude towards the Adversary. Ragnell shoots her a sidelong glance and lopsided smile. "You really are somethin' else, Gwen."
        
        Solanine survives the twin assaults from the Adversary and their subordinate, and makes it thorugh to the other side with her will renewed, cutting forth and re-armoring herself with darkness divine. They slice viciously towards Ragnell, and while none of them quite manage a fatal strike, she's looking pretty sliced up by the end of it. If she were a human being, she'd probably be dead by now. As it is, she clutches her wounds, gives Solanine a level but appraising look as that darkness draws her lightning back to empower her, and remarks, "You know--you really remind me of someone else I know, Sola."
        
        Clarine is blessed by the Ley to stand up again, after shocks both figurative and literal. It was indeed not just the double-blade--but that's a converations for later. Seeing her fall actually makes Ragnell grimace as she shoots her onetime companion a glance. Still, she doesn't falter, though her expression tightens when Clarine mentions that Amaranth had cried. That she'd do the fighting for her. "...That's awful brave o' you, Clary," she replies. "I really do wish we'd had a chance t' talk more. But, what you feel... I'll accept it all."
        
        The light cannon impacts Ragnell, smashing into her, battering her back. She crosses her arms in an attempt to weather it, but still she is ground backwards, up until the blue light of the Ley washes up at her back. The power recedes, and she lowers her arms, panting; then she shoots a look up at the Ley--at where the Ark Scepter and the Anomalous Orb should have been--and sees the Malevolence overflowing. Sees K.K. forced as far back towards it as she is. Feels the spark in the air.
        
        She reaches out towards them.

<Pose Tracker> Catenna has posed.

"I've always had faith," Catenna says as the light intensifies and fills her eyes.

"But there is something else I have."

<Interesting. That feeling is the most vulnerable to bitterness and despair... and yet, also the greatest bulwark against it.>

"That is part of it."

The light shines. It gives way to warmth, soft and tender. The warm wash of the ley - and this time, a pulse that is not malicious but full of love. It is time.

        --

Bursting from the light, Catenna gasps as the Wards crumble away. Saarda-Shanta emerges a second behind her, small again, sailing upwards in a weird lazy arc before landing on top of the Moon Shaman's head with an incongruous squeaky sound. The Anomalous Orb is before them - she can see that much as she gets her bearings.

But the Malevolence within it is exposed. Trying to wade towards the Orb is like trying to wade through a brick wall of pure hate and contradiction. Her spirit seethes as enough Malevolence to swallow a Guardian Lord bathes her. It is frankly a miracle that she does not become a Hellion on the spot. She breathes and gets a soulful of it, but she doesn't recoil.

She can't recoil. There's so much of it but she can't flinch away. Not with Filgaia at stake.

Not with a light in the darkness.

"Do me a favour," Catenna calls out to the five companions nearest to her, her voice just audible over the noise of the maelstrom.

"Tell Cyre that I love him."

She steps into the thick of the maelstrom and sets her hands together, beginning to chant. There's only one thing that needs to be done now. The amount of Malevolence is too great. She can still cleanse it, or much of it - but it'll take everything she has and more. What it will take comes through with a shock of understanding and a twist of fear, but she stares it in the face, through to the hope behind it. A hope for the world and for the ones she loves.

        I am ready to die to give Filgaia that hope.
                ...To save Cyre and the others....
                ...To preserve the Guardians....
                        ...to save... love itself....

<Pose Tracker> Josephine Lovelace has posed.

        The fire fades.

        She lands, in a sense, here back with the others. She can tell even befoer she dares to look. The wards have been peeled away. The Orb is exposed--

        Penelope trembles, flattening against the side of her neck, where the bird has alighted.

        --So has the Malevolence.
        And their plan -- Knight and Seraph -- is still unfolding.

        There are seconds left. Maybe less than that.

        "All yours, kiddo," Josie murmurs, as Catenna sets about attempting her utmost.
        Then pauses, raising an eyebrow. And smiles. "Sure."

        "Hey, Cyre!" the archaeologist yells, now, as the world nears its nadir. "Catenna says she loves you! Go get her some flowers if we get out of this one, right?"

        It's the little touches that count.

        And for what may just be her last act in this world, Josie fishes in her pocket for the last of the swill she calls booze and downs the mouth-burning dregs.

<Pose Tracker> Cecilia Adlehyde has posed.

"You sorrow," Cecilia says, to the voice she knows is the Guardian Lord of Love, drawing on scraps of power she does not possess, "because that sympathy is part of love, and you know that I know suffering. But you cannot change it. You cannot act upon it. The sword isn't for you to use at all, is it? To act for yourself, to go forth and fight and CHANGE things." She looks up, even as the Trial Knight and Ragnell's heinous scheme nears its ultimate fruition. "That's not for the Guardians at all!"

        >No. Even this much, to call out to you, strains our very nature.

"Because fighting is a thing for mortals," Cecilia says, the tears streaming down her cheeks as she watches the world die. "Sustaining the world is yours. But to save the world is our responsibility. Mine."

        >You see the shape of it. The magnitude of what you must become, Cecilia.
        >We erred at Guardian Temple. You were not made to speak the words you must.

She draws in a long breath of strange air, feeling it twist inside her as her lungs quake. "And if I decline? Can I?"

        >You may. And you would be free. To return to your people, or wander the land as you wish.

Cecilia breathing came unstead. "And everyone would die," she whispers.

        >Yes. They would, my child.
        >It is not a kind choice. Nor is it a free one. This is not an era for such things.
        >But a choice it is, here at the end of the world.
        >A choice only you can make.

Cecilia's fingers tighten to the point of pain around her staff, knuckles gone white as her breath comes in unsteady shudders. The Guardians of the Elements float about her, silent witnesses to things beyond their role. "To become more," she whispers. "Or to die as only myself."

        >So many do not have such luxuries.

"Yes," Cecilia whispers. Hand to her chest. Where the Teardrop should be, and has not been for years. "And that's a problem itself, isn't it?"

        >Yes.

Cecilia's head slowly hangs, swallowing the last hiccups of her sorrow.

She hears the Trial Knight call to her. Not taunt her. Prod her, perhaps. Does she know the true nature of love? "No," she whispers. She knows this now. But...she can keep trying. And perhaps the wish to love better, is a part of that understanding. "Alright then," she murmurs.

        >It will hurt. You will suffer. Things will be lost to you that a person ought not to lose.

"Yes," Cecilia whispers, and with her free hand wipes her eyes, then squares her feet, shoulder-wide. She rises as tall as she dares, staff held aside. "But I already have fine company in that."

She looks into the end of the world. The Anomalous Orb, preparing to fire its deadly payload. She must act and act now. So she speaks.

        "I will give of myself to protect this world," she says, the words carrying despite noise and clatter. The Ley begins to surge around her, suddenly gathering, roiling, rushing, whirling, VORTEXING...

        "I will speak, when Filgaia cannot!"

And then it all goes terribly still. Like for a few, breathless heartbeats, the will of the universe were waiting upon her.

        "I w i l l b e y o u r S h a m a n."

Light. Geysers of it, shockwaves of it. The light that riots inside of Cecilia Adlehyde whips and roars, a new power, yet impossibly ancient. Not Malevolence or Malice, not the Ley or pure sanctity, something drawn from the depths of eternity and forged before the eyes, whirling and sparking around, within, about. A light so rarely seen, and yet perhaps there are those here who know its like.

She hears the voice again, a certain sadness even still.

        >Your Oath is accepted, my child.
        >Our Shaman.

The light gathers together, condensing again and again and again into a whirling mote of light. Stone gathers 'round it, constructing itself like destiny at the speed of light, into the shape of a small statue of a goddess at prayer.

Cecilia takes the Goddess Idol in hand, and then, eyes set, turns her eyes upon the Orb.

"I am the Shaman of this world, Trial Knight." she says.

"And my word is so much more than steel."

<Pose Tracker> Jean has posed.

'You know not the nature of your strength.'

'Is it naught but weakness, to be a destroyer?'

...No. In the moment, Jean does not have the time to answer that question; what answer she gives is in the dance to which she has given everything else she can place, her one way of staying with them... and the world... shifts. It is different; it is other. Jean does not think, in the moment, of a future. She does not think, in the moment, of a past. ...There is only this now--

...And it is not shadow, or light. It is not nothing... It is not... quite--

Dark eyes open, eyelashes fluttering, as Jean is able once again to look. She sees a world shifting apart. Malevolence is not strange to her, is not unfamiliar; she feels the weight of it every day. Every day, she feels the incredible mass of it in one woman's wake, the woman that so many would call the Lord of Calamity, and those days, she is able to stand with it. Or...

..Or has it seeped within her, unknown, unnoticeable, into the two selves that war for dominance within? What is purity, trapped between two poles.

What is strength?

Jean slows, in her hands, and stops, and then tumbles to the ground, her body no longer strong enough to move--or maybe, her spirit giving out, instead. Her heart is dragged; her senses are bending. What is real, what isn't, they blend. It is overwhelming, but there is almost a gentleness in that truth.

...There's no chance to struggle to rise, when one is immediately so deep beneath the water's surface.

"...Lucia," Jean murmurs, and if she feels some spark she imagines it might be what one feels at the end. "Everyone..."

Lifting her arms--no, being certain that the arm that is there is hers, is not just part of the muck, changed, twisted--

It is too much. But there was a question.

"Maybe some destroyers... can be strong. But when all your strength is built on pain... Was it ever really yours? Was it ever something that could last?"

Her words are quiet. "...Hiro thought... I was wrong, about myself... too. It was nice, to imagine for a while..."

<Pose Tracker> Talia has posed.

When everything shudders and shifts, Talia is deposited on the ground. She hits the ground behind the Ark Scepter and the Anomalous Orb in a three-point stance, holding Mirage in her left hand. The weapon's strange blue-grey steel reflects the light of the Malevolence churning off it; her eyes reflect it better, as she wets her lips.

The way to the Orb is cleared, but she can see that their time has nearly come to an end. She knows, too, what might be waiting if it fires into the Ley. Her understanding of the metaphysics is flawed at best, but the vision she saw told her all that she needs to know.

She asked what the plan was. Catenna, it seems, has one. Talia's head turns, when she speaks, and her eyes widen. "You're--"

Josie yells it.

"Oh my Goddess," Talia mutters under her breath. She looks back at the Orb. She doesn't know what to do about it. She glances down at Mirage; she contemplates destroying it, if such a thing is even possible. It's the only idea she has. She stands, shakily, and holds a hand out. A magical circle flashes under her feet. Flickering, swirling icy mist begins to whip about her again.

"It's not enough," she mutters under her breath. "Fine job of keeping this promise, no?"

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Beast has posed.

        Too late.

        At any other moment, the Beast of Lohgrin would celebrate seeing Ida and Catenna and even Fei again. But here, now, as the lotus unfurls, there is the Ark Scepter -- the Anomalous Orb. It is overwhelming. Love is weak, love is strong, love is all they have and it tears her open even as it bids her to stay whole. "No," says the Beast, and she is afraid. "Please."

        The wrongness collects the fire which ought to have strove against it. It courses forward - towards that tiny elven girl who believed so fiercely in humanity. The Beast of Lohgrin does not know Chime Isa's name, but she recognises a will like hers. That desire to help others...

        She is so certain that Chime Isa would shield any one of them from that horror.

        '... if I cannot be everywhere and protect them all, I can at least assist this one human.'

        She can feel the Malevolence in the sickly flames, poison poured over poison, and she knows it is anathema to her.

        'There are so many people who will change the world. What of the people inside it?'

        She cannot best Ragnell; she cannot best K.K. She cannot stop the Anomalous Orb.

        'In honesty, I am unused to a broad focus.'

        She can do this.

        "No!" Demands the Beast, as she springs forward, and she is the wind and it is swift in its interception. In a moment she is in front of Chime Isa, plates locked together to create a bulwark which forbids the dark flames' passing.

        And they do not pass; they have found a meal better than they could have hoped for.

        Flame, after all, consumes the air. It is fed by it, rages higher from it. The smoke chokes out every breathable aspect until there is nothing, nothing left. There is no better method to destroy a creature of the air; and perhaps it is a fitting end to the folly of the Beast of Lohgrin. To wield metal forged in fire is perhaps the greatest arrogance, for a windswept spirit. It pushes against her nature. Perhaps the adaption is its own form of strength. It could never have been enough.

        She is forged, now, and it is not only black heat which envelops her, though certainly her vessel glows red-hot. Of all the years, oh, of all these years, how much has been left behind? The soldiers who would not fight; the children who fled. What is there to be said of the edges? The liminal space between a world they cannot dwell and a world they have destroyed?

        Oh, yes, let us speak of the forbidden places. Mama Abilene's home, where even the most vicious of beasts took heed of her might. Abilene ran and ran until there were no humans at all and there she raised the girl she took, raised her in swampland and wilds, and the world of Man was far from them. And perhaps they could have been happy, happy for all time, had that girl not wondered what was beyond the mountains, had not found the suffering made manifest there. If she had not cried out for their salvation, would Abilene still be hale and whole? If she had not dragged her to a den of pestilent Malevolence, would she not have become a draconid monster, devoid of thought and love?

        But she did, she did, and though her adoptive daughter took the blacksmith's devotional statue to try and reason with her in a form like hers, Abilene had no reason left at all. It was her fault, after all. Her fault, that she had to stop the woman who loved her before she destroyed the very people who had doomed her. And how fearsome a statue come alive, a creature they named the Beast of Lohgrin. A creature which defended them; a creature which frightened them. A creature who could not go home, because she was not strong like her mother. Was it bitterness, then, which led her to conviction that no human could dwell where she did?

        You! Who are you - who are you to draw the lines? You, who would decide for them with the voice of a child. You who struggles so much to listen and honour their experience, though you have experienced so little. Each angle of you is arrogance; the kind cruelty of remove. Cages on cages, and there is no difference, you know, no difference at all. You know what is best? Oh, child, you know nothing at all!

        Nothing at all...

        An iron mask cannot reflect hurt or grief or tears; there is only a cry, high and keening, as plate folds over plate in a ball which would break every bone were her body flesh. Her words come quick and pained in the fire, and she does not see them, and she does not hear them.

        "Oh, mama, forgive me, forgive me. I never wished to harm them. I am small, I am small and I took too much, I wanted too much, my curiosity has doomed you, it dooms me, it dooms them all. Oh, mama, they are my friends, and I will not know them as I take them. I have hurt Ida so much with my assumptions, I have left Cyre and Catenna alone, I do not comprehend Fei's objections. I can offer that woman only such short reprieve. I -- I could not reach Ragnell..."

        Don't cry. You can't. You chose a body which reflects nothing of sadness or regret.

        "I could not reach you," her voice trembles. "And I could not stop it."

        In black pyre she burns, and they cannot reach her.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Lanval has posed.

        Lanval sits and watches as almost everyone finds the will to stand back up and fight again. He is, upon reflection, pretty good at sitting around and watching. He continues to drink every so often to steady himself, as doubts and fears dare try to claw their way in. The bearded spirit feels the pulse of the Ley, courtesy of Riesenlied, wash over him again. He also feels a burst of refreshing wind from Cyre, remembering their early days where he had a laugh at that weird element deity thing he was worshipping - look at them now.
        "...Mmm." It's refreshing, that feeling of Love and the stirring Wind that won't stop fighting. He dares not reflect on how close it is that Ragnell could have eradicated him, or how K.K. could have consigned him to being washed away from history. That induces doubt. That induces contradiction. Each and every one of his kind here are dancing with the prospect of dragonhood.
        They persist with clear sense of purpose. It feels good to see. He's seen a lot of good. A lot of bad. A lot of... weird. But this is all an example of good. Lanval gets stronger when he's in a better mood, and boy, this is a good mood. His eyes start to open anew. He can stand. As everyone moves to show their conviction to K.K. and Ragnell by continuing the fight, he, too, smiles a little more stupidly. A flash of aquamarine escapes his opening eyes...
        'But 'twas too late.'
        Lanval dares not think so, but every sense dares not deceive. It is the truth. The Anomalous Orb's darkness starts spewing out. Lanval looks to the other Seraphim gathered - and the other mortals, too. They believe in him where so many of his own kind saw him as nothing more than a joke. He still has a vessel. It's so much of it. But he has to endure. For over five hundred years up until very recently (in Seraphim terms, a few years is a blink), he stopped Malevolence from thickening.
        "Mmmph," he has another drink. The same conviction he showed when he dared to sit in that Malevolent cage on Mount Manfred. "All of ya... keep believin'." That's all he says as he barrels towards the cloud, interposing himself between the other Seraphim--
        --Beast moves ahead. He doesn't dwell on the shock or the fear for what will happen to her because he cannot doubt -now- in the -present,- and the Water Seraph delves into the water and the corruption, through the maw of the anomalous serpent that embodies it.
        Nothing but water.
        Nothing but corruption.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Lanval has posed.

        Nothing but Water and corruption.
        Nothing but water and corruption...
        They intertwine, removing all sense of where he is and what he's doing. He might not even be there any more. He's 'somewhere,' all right, in that he can... perceive? Experience? There's so much Malevolence here deep in the Love's Cradle. He stayed--
        It doesn't ask him in the present. The Malevolence has expended all of its ammo in the present. No, the metaphorical bullet has been loaded into a chamber pointed to...
        The past. It fast forwards through his earliest memories within that swamp. The desire he felt to... go to a human settlement and be a Lord of the Land. Only one could see hi--
        The Malevolence snatches on that.
        The elderly woman who enshrined him, lying dead. For many, many, many years, the only one who could see him. Many still believed, but only one could see and talk. Bound to a place, but the most precious connection between mortal and divine that made his enshrinement possible. Gone. He stayed WHY
        ...
        The people of the monastery taking their leave, choosing to go further south into Glenwood. He could not follow. He didn't want to. He stayed WHY
        ...I...
        The family owned brewery that followed falling into harder and harsher times. That useless, good-for-nothing son - in the words of the family patriarch before them - who would turn around and cash out the property. Another brush with loneliness. He stayed WHY
        ...It was so...
        The new ownership, turning it into a travel stop. Their staggering talent for taking a land capable of the most bountiful and delicious harvests imaginable... and being so terrible that the beer was... unsatisfactory. Offerings were more in the form of stuff he could eat or drink off the floor. He stayed WHY
        ...I didn't want...
        That the establishment endured for ever longer than the monastery or the brewery, each decade more Goddess-less than the last. The Copper Rapier, a blight upon the world of mortals. That his 'worship' was something of an accident, singing his name with irreverent and insulting prose yet sincere belief that there was 'a' Lanval. He stayed WHY
        ...they did...
        The place seemed filled day in, day out, with hardly much but the taste of resignation, misery, disbelief, and overall despair. So much of that Malevolence to filter and thin out on that swamp. He stayed WHY
        ...If...
        Althena banned song and dance. Some time after, alcohol was shelved. Virtually every avenue of worship and acknowledgement of his presence, however coincidental it might have been through a misattribution of what a Lanval actually was, waned. He stayed WHY
        ...But... it...
        The Guard destroyed the place, seeing him a sad wreck with all his own kind having expressed their shame and displeasure for associating with someone who just stewed in that awful place. He stayed WHY
        ...
        WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY

<Pose Tracker> Fei Fong Wong has posed.

The world shatters around Fei. This isn't the first time his mind, his interior world has been breached by cosmic forces and it won't be the last. Fei is highly susceptible to such things but because he is highly susceptible, he has a large reservoir to fight it with. He sees Ida, then Catenna, then Josephine, then Talia, then Elly. And the world falls to pieces around the fool.

Fei has returned to rationality when he's deposited outside of that knotted space.

He can't do anything about purification. Honestly, he dare not press further into that ball of malevolence now in his fragile, glue together state.

"Catenna." He says. And that's all he says. He doesn't have words. Just a name, just a name, just a name.

He has more important matters to tend to than the world. Cecilia, Catenna, other better suited people for stopping this malevolence are present. Malevolence interacts strangely with Fei, and Fei in turn reacts strangely to it.

He stumbles and walks towards his target. He hears Cecilia communicate with the Guardian. He hears EVERYTHING. But it is distant, like it's happening in some other reality.

She has really come so far, he thinks distantly. His friend. His dear friend. The friend that did not remain, but the friend that remained. He can see her there, Lynn Adelhyde, when he looks at her.

But he also sees someone who is more than Lynn Adelhyde or a shaman. He sees...

...Someone with a young soul, and a large heart to match it.

Why does Love carry a sword?
Because hearts that big need defending and support lest they collapse under their own weight, under the weight of the world.

There is another large heart, however, before him though her soul is not young just as his own is not young.

Fei sees her. This time it is she who is panicking, freaking out, bleeding, terrified, having a mental breakdown. He does not understand the screams in his head, but he understands them in his heart.

He wipes the blood away from Elly's face and embraces her tightly as he looks towards the orb.

And maybe one more ending he has helped bring into this world.

He can only hope, though Zephyr will leave you.
He can only desire, though Luceid will leave you.
He can only try to be brace, though Justine will leave you

But love comes naturally and easily and as he looks towards the orb, he thinks...

...Even if it is an ending...

At least...maybe it's a beginning too.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Clarine has posed.

They give it their all...and soon, those who had disappeared into the chamber with the Anomalous Orb reappear. The darkness dissolves and the wards go down...and visible beyond is a scepter, with the Orb affixed. Shining like a black sun, suffused with years of Malevolence, rushing out like an unstoppable tide.

This much Malevolence, in one place...reality begins to bend. Twist. ...Fall apart. Elements contort in grotesque fashions.

Clarine, too, feels as if she's being twisted apart. She falls to her knees, gasping for breath and clutching at her necklace.

To the Seraphim, Malevolence was a poison that seeped into their core, corrupting them. The pure metal of her vessel - the necklace - protects her now, but how long could she hold out...? This was years of Malevolence. Countless people's fears, lies, and internal contraditions turned upon her, upon them, on the heart of the world itself.

It was all too much.

This was the end.

...But.

She shuts her eyes tight. No. She couldn't fall here...not after coming this far.

Not after only just finding the light once more, after countless years of hiding away.

She didn't want to descend back into darkness...or worse, be twisted into a dragon...

"I-I can not..." She whispers.

She can't fall here. She has to hold on, even against a tide of Malevolence that threatened to swallow her hole and turn her into something terrible.

For Ammy, the family she had lost and found once more.

For Kamui, the new friend she had discovered and wished to learn more of.

For Leviram and Solanine, both beings of darkness in their own separate ways. Darkness which she feared, and yet from them, she found comforting.

For Acacia and Clarissa, the first humans she had met in some time who were able to see her, who showed her kindness. ...Well, begrudgingly, in one case.

...And in a way, even for Ragnell, too. They might be on opposite sides right now, but...she was still family, too.

"I can not...!" She repeats. Breathing deeply. Just thinking is straining. Just existing was straining.

Holding on is all she can do...but if she can do that much, then she hasn't failed yet...

<Pose Tracker> Cyre H. Lorentz has posed.

The Anomalous Orb is revealed.

The tide of Malevolence pours forth from that inverted sun like pus weeping from a scar in reality.

They are too late by a fraction. Too late to stop it from discharging its terrible, deadly payload. Too late... Except--

                     "What the hell do you mean -if!?- "

--Except humans are never the type to roll over and accept that it's 'too late.'

The wind-tiger surges through the tides of Malevolence like a comet falling from the sky. The avatar-form cracks, crumbles, and breaks apart as the spiritual corruption eats away at its foundations-- but at the last it twists and turns and hurls an arm forward, and as it fades into so many motes of emerald light, a batttered, bruised, but mercilessly defiant figure launches himself from the lever of his god-body's own fastball pitch.

"There's no way I'm going to let this keep going on an IF!" Cyre... hits the ground running. His heart is throbbing in his ears, the Malevolence flooding through his soul. But his eyes aren't on the orb, at this moment where everything is on the precipice, he's staring at something else entirely.

That's right. Humanity doesn't just lay back and accept the universe's imperious decrees.

They fight, tooth and nail, for the things they want.

To deny that now, at the end of all things, is to deny everything. And what Cyre Lorentz wants right now, more than anything--

His hands grope into the darkness.

They reach for hers as they desperately try to hold back the tide.

"You aren't about to leave me behind, y' damn self-sacrificing fool! I won't let you go alone!" Cyre shouts into the tidal sin as he grabs hold of her hand, "We're both making it back alive, even if it kills me!"

"You're the woman that I love," Cyre shouts into the void, "I'll be damned if I sit back and let you do this all on your own!"

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Ceimglace has posed.

 They have to believe. Ceimglace said no once. She can say no again.
 
 And again.
         again
 
         again
 
 She tilts her head back. The malevolance sits on her. She only knows what it feels like for herself - lord know how much it's hurting her fellow Seraphim. Lanval... Beast. She doesn't know the latter. The former, she knows the most here next to Ragnell herself. Ceimglace closes her eyes, and curls up on the ground, pressing her cheeks to the water cooled floor. Water, herself. Earth, beneath her, wind, on her cheeks. Light and dark both, in the waiting, and lightning along her senses.
 
 Seraphim are here. Humans are here.
 
 Ceimglace sings - a wordless song, but a tone that reaches to all. THat no matter what you're doing, where you are - there is still someone, out there, hoping for you ...
 
 As she has done for five hundred years.

<Pose Tracker> Ida Everstead-Rey has posed.

        Reality shudders. The icy chill of the Mirror and the warmth of an embrace give way to the blue glow of the Ley and the bruise-colored taint of Malevolence. Ida's feet hit ground, and she snaps upright, glancing around at the heart of Love's Cradle--at the wreck that K.K. and Ragnell have made while she and the others were within the wards. Guilt tears at her, but Ida breathes out, and the emotion goes with it.

        It's in the nick of time, too, for in that moment, the final knot unravels. Malevolence surges out.

        Ida throws her arms up to shield her face--as if she could shield herself from this onslaught. The veritable tsunami of Malevolence pours around her, flowing over her body, surging into her lungs with every breath--it doesn't sink into her, but nor does she stop it. She's not even a rock in the stream. All she can do is step forwards, putting one foot in front of the other. Her breath comes in gasps. She's on the verge of panic--of a breakdown.

        'Tell Cyre that I love him.'

        "He's right behind you!" Ida shouts. She has to get to the Orb. She has to. There is no other option. She knows how they work. She used one to taint a Ley Line, just like K.K. did.

        She feels more than hears the Beast of Lohgrin collapse. "BOUDICCA!"she screams. "LANVAL!

        Love drives her onwards.

        "It's all right, dear. It didn't turn out right, but when I was learning, I did the same. The only way to learn is to practice."

        Father.

        "It's called a lotus, dearheart. They grew them at the monastery, and in gardens all over the world. The lotus sets its roots in the river mud, and grows until it breaks the surface, where it makes a beautiful blossom. It symbolizes beauty growing out of ordinary things, and hope growing from ugliness."

        Mother.

        "You aren't the weak woman you think you are. And you most certainly aren't the failure those people thought you would be. You are in conflict, yes, and pain, but if there is anything I have learned of humankind, it is that how you endure that pain is part of what defines you."

        Kalve.

        "We love you."

        Fei.

        More voices join them. Dean, Elly, the Beast, Rosaline, Jack, and countless others--a rising chorus of warmth and love drawn up from the depths of Ida's memories. At the very end, the voice that spoke to her not that long ago.

                                     i am so proud of you

        ...?...

        "We accept this pain, and these memories. And from them, we grow. From them, we learn the truth of what we were, all along."

        Ida's own voice speaks to her, as if answering the hateful inner voice that's plagued her her entire life. As if it's defying it. Without the mud, the lotus cannot grow. If these are her last minutes left on this earth, she will not spend them in vain.
%

<Pose Tracker> Ida Everstead-Rey has posed.

        Reality shudders. The icy chill of the Mirror and the warmth of an embrace give way to the blue glow of the Ley and the bruise-colored taint of Malevolence. Ida's feet hit ground, and she snaps upright, glancing around at the heart of Love's Cradle--at the wreck that K.K. and Ragnell have made while she and the others were within the wards. Guilt tears at her, but Ida breathes out, and the emotion goes with it.

        It's in the nick of time, too, for in that moment, the final knot unravels. Malevolence surges out.

        Ida throws her arms up to shield her face--as if she could shield herself from this onslaught. The veritable tsunami of Malevolence pours around her, flowing over her body, surging into her lungs with every breath--it doesn't sink into her, but nor does she stop it. She's not even a rock in the stream. All she can do is step forwards, putting one foot in front of the other. Her breath comes in gasps. She's on the verge of panic--of a breakdown.

        'Tell Cyre that I love him.'

        "He's right behind you!" Ida shouts. She has to get to the Orb. She has to. There is no other option. She knows how they work. She used one to taint a Ley Line, just like K.K. did.

        She feels more than hears the Beast of Lohgrin collapse. "BOUDICCA!"she screams. "LANVAL!

        Love drives her onwards.

        "It's all right, dear. It didn't turn out right, but when I was learning, I did the same. The only way to learn is to practice."

        Father.

        "It's called a lotus, dearheart. They grew them at the monastery, and in gardens all over the world. The lotus sets its roots in the river mud, and grows until it breaks the surface, where it makes a beautiful blossom. It symbolizes beauty growing out of ordinary things, and hope growing from ugliness."

        Mother.

        "You aren't the weak woman you think you are. And you most certainly aren't the failure those people thought you would be. You are in conflict, yes, and pain, but if there is anything I have learned of humankind, it is that how you endure that pain is part of what defines you."

        Kalve.

        "We love you."

        Fei.

        More voices join them. Dean, Elly, the Beast, Rosaline, Jack, and countless others--a rising chorus of warmth and love drawn up from the depths of Ida's memories. At the very end, the voice that spoke to her not that long ago.

                                     i am so proud of you

        ...?...

        "We accept this pain, and these memories. And from them, we grow. From them, we learn the truth of what we were, all along."

        Ida's own voice speaks to her, as if answering the hateful inner voice that's plagued her her entire life. As if it's defying it. Without the mud, the lotus cannot grow. If these are her last minutes left on this earth, she will not spend them in vain.

<Pose Tracker> Ida Everstead-Rey has posed.

        But even here, in the dark, you are not alone.

        S O M E T H I N G A N S W E R S

        "xterm21,Shaman.)" The 'voice' that speaks is like the thunderous crash of a tsunami, like the steady trickle of rainfall. The scent of clean, pure water filters through the Malevolence. Schturdark does not manifest here, for as Raftina said, even speaking is a trial.

        "We hear you." A second voice, like the roar of a bonfire, the crackle of a hearth. The scent of pure, clean wood smoke joins the scent of the water. "And you--children of the traitor Althena. You who would suffer and bleed for the world she abandoned."

        "Take this--and do what must be done!"

        Lanval and the Beast of Lohgrin know what they must do. Even speaking tests the power of these two Guardians, but they aren't the ones who have to speak.

<Pose Tracker> Ida Everstead-Rey has posed.

        But even here, in the dark, you are not alone.

        S O M E T H I N G A N S W E R S

        "Shaman." The 'voice' that speaks is like the thunderous crash of a tsunami, like the steady trickle of rainfall. The scent of clean, pure water filters through the Malevolence. Schturdark does not manifest here, for as Raftina said, even speaking is a trial.

        "We hear you." A second voice, like the roar of a bonfire, the crackle of a hearth. The scent of pure, clean wood smoke joins the scent of the water. "And you--children of the traitor Althena. You who would suffer and bleed for the world she abandoned."

        "Take this--and do what must be done!"

        Lanval and the Beast of Lohgrin know what they must do. Even speaking tests the power of these two Guardians, but they aren't the ones who have to speak.

<Pose Tracker> Elhaym van Houten has posed.

 
Fei comes for Elly.

Elly is a mess. Why isn't she wearing her boots? She smells like she was in an industrial accident. Maybe she was. When he gathers her close she says, faintly, "H-hey. A-aah--"

She sniffles a little. Most of the blood was from her nose. Her right eye is still red but the left is okay. She smiles at Fei. She is trembling, and not from the cold. It's like a scared young animal. The analogy holds some water.

"I... o-overduh-did it a little i-in there. Th-this is the real p, place, right?" Her attention turns outwards, even as she burrows slightly nearer to Fei. "..."

"I c-can't see the malev, volence very well. B-but, I suppose we didn't w-win, huh. From huh-how Ida is talking."

"... I don't feel w-well," she tells Fei, quietly. "I'm sorry t-to be like this, I - I wanna take a nap, but, I don't th-think that's a good idea. I got your m-message." She swallows several times, quietly, and blinks her eyes with great emphasis.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Lanval has posed.

        In this space, now devoid of all else... there were only words.
        ...Words? Words. There are words. Lanval can hear them. An offering.
        Only words can exist in the space he's in now.
 
        ...Schturdark... Guardian of Water...
 
...'tis you?
 
...Mmm, I can hear mineself... it's hard... but I beseech thee, hear out mine words...
 

 
'twas rude of me, back then. I kept shouting in thy waters to get thy attention.
 
I apologize. Thou hadst much burdened upon thee. Thy Statue... thy seal on Mother, lost before mine arrival.
 
Mine own was lost. Mmm... presumptuous of me to think it fully the same. Yet, we both had to have a focus.
 
...
 
We both lost our power over something important to us... 'twould hath seemed we would have lost it all.
 
...
 
Thou art the water of an entire world. A world far greater in size than mine own...
 
...I just had a swamp. Just? No, no. Not just. The swamp was mine entire world.
 
Even when mine own kin became disgusted at mine place of choosing. Even when the mortals were on the cusp of truly forgetting.
 
It meant the world to me that I was strong enough to protect mine part of it.
 
...That is why.
 
...I endured so much. 'tis but a fraction of thy burden...
 
...Such as Mother. Even so, with all that going on... for longer than mine own time 'pon creation.
 
You and your bretheren went out of thine way to help Lunar at its time of need.....
 
I am aware... you've gotten your share of jeers from those who cannot comprehend. 'tis... disheartening. I, too, suffered such from mortal and mine own kin alike.
 
...The scope of what we both watch over...
 
...'tis not always a trifle.
 
Without the help of... Talise... Tethelle... Rosaline... Sephilia... Chauncey...
 
...
 
I like thne world of yours. I doth desire to see it live. No. I doth desire to see it thrive anew.
 
Just as thou reacheth out to me now...
 
If thou offer me a hand... then I shalt pledge mine power to thee to see our mutual desires...!
        To be but an oasis from which life can once more drink to slake its ceaseless thirst...
        ...Ah... even now... 'twas that in my folly I'd forget to give thy name! Ha ha...
        ...Yes. Mine name is...
        ...
        Mine name is...
 

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Lanval has posed.

Rewshtom Wabdow.
 
        And then, the malevolent water-serpent twists, turns, contorts... and loses color... to return to the crystal clear, pristine, shining water characterful of...)]
        There is laughter. The corruption begins to fade from the pooling sludge, and there is Seraph Lanval, who seems to have found a renewed vigor from within as he holds up his drinking gourd.
        "To all who fight for Filgaia's future! To reclaim Love from the claws of corruption! I bid thee to see it on its way!!"
        With another uproarious burst of mirthful laughter, Lanval sweeps the gourd's contents out. Pure, clean water... attaching itself to one's weapons. The parts of themselves in which they exert their will, their power. They will see, soon enough, the corruption fading away from where they stand.
        The Malevolence... is being purified.
        By you! You have been blessed with the power to cleanse Malevolence by your own two hands... and weapons... and related instruments of destruction!

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Beast has posed.

        And here another tone of strain, the roar of a bonfire.

        And here, in an instant, there is the horrible realisation that her tormentor is tormented.

        Oh, someone hears her. Someone hears her pain. It pours from her. "I would suffer any torment," says the Beast of Lohgrin, who cannot belabour the aspersions cast on Althena in this moment. "But 'tis in vain. They were right; I have no salvation. I am afraid. I have always... been afraid. There is nothing left to me. There will be nothing left of me." She will not suffer much longer. It is not a comfort.

        It is not a defeat the flames accept.

        What must be done...

        ... how often has she thought that way?

        "Is," she chokes out the word, "is there - could you - do this? You, who would consume me?" Either way she is consumed; by flame or Malevolence she will become nothing. And here the despair in her voice is lanced through with determination, a choice made in a moment. "Let it be so. Let my spirit be the fuel to ignite you! Let me be consumed, a pyre risen! Know the ancient words of my name, that I shall not be afraid!"

        It is a name emblazoned in the hearth: Raccouc Guebohha. They are old words, old words; so much older than her. Perhaps, once upon a time, she chose her truth to salve another's wounds, but it is not Abilene who is afraid now. It is an ancient legacy of fear passed down to her and made her own. Once, she named herself 'Warrior' to assure the woman who adopted her she would best any challenge and return to her side.

        Now, she assures herself she is strong enough to stand midst a world which terrifies her.

        Pulsing from its core the flame becomes flame again, yellow and orange and red, and it coils tightly before it bursts outwards like an exploding star. The flames which lick about the Drifter's weapons begin to burn away that Malevolence, and it leaves something cleaner, pure of purpose and clarity and design.

        At their epicentre are the pieces of the Beast of Lohgrin, metal twisted and melted to slag in the heat.

        Within the ruins stands an amazon of a woman, tall and broad, overlong dark brown braids tipped in pale green. Her horned metal helm is open, pale grey-green eyes exposed for all to see. She is clad in fire-forged metal, patterned in flame and air, and green silks make her clothing, flowing in the breeze which is her birthright. It is green accented by orange, in expression of her unlikely union.

        "Hello," she says, as she turns towards them, and she smiles. "I call myself Boudicca." And as a name, it does not only suffice.

        She stretches out a hand. "Moor Gault and I wish to help you. Take this flame, now, and consume the darkness." They are flames carried by air, fed by the oxygen of the breeze, and yes, she will suffer for a world abandoned.

        Humanity is worth protecting.

        No matter where they live.

        She turns to the darkness, and the gale which swirls around her is a firestorm which promises to light the Anomalous Orb in purity.

        Your weapons, if you choose, are now blessed with the power of Moor Gault. The Malevolence falters before you.

<Pose Tracker> K.K. has posed.

Catenna wades, ready to sacrifice for the sake of the planet. For the sake of her companions.

For the sake of love.

It feeds. It demands. That gateway into the very heart of the Ley remains open, ready for the Ark Scepter to disgorge its delivery into its depths where Love's burning soul awaits. They whip their foul winds through Catenna. It cannot stop her. The crack of lightning. It cannot stop her. Blistering, anomalous flame.

Cannot stop her.

With the power of a Shaman she comes. She chants. Her life begins to bleed away, slowly but surely. She commits her very soul to the act.

... before the feeling of a cool presence like the light of the full moon layers over her soul.

And the life returns to her. No.

It grows -stronger-.

Until she is a blazing silver pyre in a sea of darkness.

---

The blessing of the Guardians flows through the Seraphim Lanval and Boudicca.

And in turn, as this gift is given, as this wish blossoms, so too is it bestowed upon all. The Guardians' power swell, burgeoned and amplified through the Children of Althena, through the gift of the Ley, through the efforts of the Shaman -- through the prayers of Riesenlied.

And in this moment, before it crystalizes into something new, something unique, somthing different...

... its Blessing infuses every single person in this sanctum. And in the shaman? They find their powers expanded exponentially in this moment, until they can scarcely be quanitified.

The power of purification is in your hands.

Do you wish for a better world? Do you wish to save Love?

    Then turn your attention upon that blight which would drag it down.

<Pose Tracker> Chime Isa has posed.

        As the power explodes out from the Anomalous Orb, Chime doesn't flinch. Her hands tighten around her crossbows and she brings them up the bodies turning a shining white as golden etchings appear across the body of both. The visible armed bolts shine a brillant light as she prepare an attack she's used so often through rarely at such a level of power. But even with her bows ready she doesn't fire as she trains onto the Orb, the discordant bruised colored energy ripping earth in explosions right at the short red-haired elf as she stands her ground looking for a shot she may never find.

        Her smile never falters as she watches what will likely be her death as four decades of experience roll through her considering her options and trimming it down to the most likely option. Even destroying the Orb wasn't likely to save her, or those here but it would certainly save the rest of those that lived each day before them outside the forgotten temple.

        Then suddenly, a bulwark is between her and the gout of exploding malevolance and green eyes narrow then widen in surprise. The power welling in her crossbows begins to fade, the clean shot to the orb gone as she watches what she's assumed was another of the moon's Seraphs guard her from the raging energies of the orb. "Just like miniature guardians..." she says softly. She watches in awe as the bulwark of metal absorbs and holds back the malevolent energy.

        Green eyes shine as Chime watches that metal, and the water beside, Lanval, balloon and transform into first what look like dragons. Chime doesn't step back, but her crossbows come back up before stopping as something changes. And then she smiles cheerfully as the the Seraph before her purifies the malevolent energies in a silver flame, spreading that energy across the room.

        BGM: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3zA3jnbc-ro

        Chime's cheerful smile returns full on, as she speaks first at the K.K. and Ragnell, commenting "Didn't pay attention well to the fight outside did you two." before saying for herself and the others as she watches Beast, "The spirit is indomitable.". Her crossbows come back up, the light of her own hope exploding from the bolts again even as the silver flames attach to them and she pulls the triggers of both crossbows unleashing a flurry of blinding white bolts of light, the ARMs Meister herself fairly aglow with her own hope and cheer along with

        The bolts of light explode on contact with the malevolent energies opening wide swatches of purified space into the flooding bruised color energies opening paths through the malevolence even as it helps purify it. It's not the most efficent purification, spilling everywhere messily like life itself but it's possibly just as helpful as a flame in a dark night showing the way.

<Pose Tracker> Talia has posed.

Talia is nearly spent. The ice magic that she summons comes in fits and starts, swirls that do not quite last. She has but one spell left in her. "I'm starting think I've botched this, Ammy," she murmurs to herself "Ah, but... what would you tell me?"

She frowns a little bit more, while she thinks about all the times Amaranth was with her -- sometimes against her better instincts -- and the times she risked her life for her. It was the least she could do. She glances at Ragnell, being dragged in towards the Orb and reaching out for the Trial Knight.

If this happens, she would die -- and likely Talia, too -- and any promise she made would be gone. Out of ideas, devoid of options, and hearing the words of Lanval and Boudicca. Talia swallows, hard, and then refocuses herself. She keeps the hand outstretched -- and feels the outpouring of Schturdark, from that Seraph that she once tried to rob.

She feels a little bad about that.

Talia's red eyes narrow, as she tries to find some words. Her sweat-matted black hair is blown back, to the side, and she sways with exhaustion. She doesn't find any words, though, even as a large chunk of ice begins to gather and grow in front of her palm.

Larger, and larger, and with glowing sparks of light in it.

Until, suddenly, Talia does find the words. Her eyes blink in confusion, a couple of times; then she laughs, and she yells them:

        "HAPPY BOOST!"

The massive chunk of ice, swirling with the bright light of Purification, rockets towards the co-joined Anomalous Orb and the Ark Scepter, and leaves trails of blue and soft, flickering yellow in the sky.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Clarine has posed.

She, too, wishes she'd had a chance to talk with Ragnell once more. She so desperately wished it were possible. There were so many things left unsaid. She wanted to tell her about everything she'd been through since they last met, about all the new friends she had met on Filgaia.

So many things, that Clarine desperately hoped she would get the chance to say.

Clarine closes her eyes.

The Malevolence is still burning strong....but there are voices, speaking toward her. Two Seraphim, standing against it all. And she can feel it, the power of the Ley flooding in...

"Th-thank you, fellow Seraphim... I will do my best! I will not let your gift go to waste." She says. She forces herself to her feet once more, looking toward Lanval, then to Boudicca. Water and flame surrounds her, pure and untouched by Malvolence - their gift to her, and to the rest of them.

It's different, but this power is...in a way, familiar, as well. But it's fading fast - she can feel that much. She'll likely only have one shot at this. But for now, she briefly recalls a power she once possessed. She calls upon the purity of water and fire both, allowing their gift to empower her.

"Sacred powers...cast thy purifying light upon this corruption..." She whispers. She's not able to manage the full incantation in this state - she probably won't for some time. It's only through outside help that she's able to get this far...but with their help, Lanval and Boudicca's entreatment, something begins to take form. Water and fire merges into a single sphere. And it grows, shining a bright white. She inhales.

"Please...let this work!" She pushes the power forward and a great BEAM of purifying light erupts forth from the sphere, focused on the core of the Malevolence. She won't be able to maintain it for long... She just hopes that, along with everyone else's efforts, she would be able to help - even just a little.

<Pose Tracker> Catenna has posed.

She can hear the joking behind her. Catenna closes her eyes and inhales. She knows that nobody will be buying her that drink.

But a power shines to life.

As Cecilia takes the oath, it's simply impossible to miss - and yet, Catenna can't stop what she's doing, even with Cecilia awakening a level of kinship to the Guardians that the Moon Shaman herself could not possibly muster. Catenna herself is simply a limited being. No servant of the Guardian Lords. No Fell Dragon. No Seraph of the moon she worships.

Just a weak mortal fleshbag who can try and stop this.

Cyre reaches out into the darkness. Catenna has her eyes closed, but she doesn't need to see to recognize the pair of hands that slide into place over her own.

"Then help me," she pleads, her voice small and pinched with effort. "Cyre... remember what we said about love being bottomless...?"

Something else answers. A voice like rainfall. A voice like fire.

More of them are empowered. But it won't be enough. Catenna squeezes her eyes closed. Her heart races. It thunders against her chest. She pours everything she has into it --

<You learned something while we were within the warded circle,> Saarda-Shanta's voice comes - but it does not come from her, but from everywhere. <That so long as your faith was with you, you were never alone. That your love for Filgaia is greater than any love.>

The voice grows more clear and more feminine. The Owlet begins to shine like a brilliant star. Like a full moon on the clearest night.

<Shaman... if your love is infinite, then let it be infinite,> says the Voice of the Moon as the Owlet fades away into that ever-expanding light - but just for a moment, she is not an Owlet anymore, but a figure standing behind Catenna, humanoid, with vast butterfly wings and skin the caramel of the Moon Shaman's.

Celesdue's hands, just for a moment, brush over Catenna's, before the light consumes her.

The life rushes back into her -- and Catenna opens her eyes. Their pale grey colour has shifted.

Catenna's eyes shine the ethereal bluish-white of the full moon.

Cyre can feel it clearer than anyone else. Even as Fire and Rain gift power to all, Celesdue simply removes the limiters from her Chosen Shaman. The Silver Medium in Catenna's hands shines like a star. Malevolence pushes out from her in a dome as the silver light of purification explodes out from her.

She breathes in. Breathes out. Lets the power flow out of her. Purifying silver light spills from Catenna in shimmering waves, radiating out in rings, cascading out in gentle midnight rain. And yet the power does not take her life, as she had planned, for here, in this place, with the Guardians themselves leaning in to come to their aid - with the Guardian she loves, the man she loves, the world she loves, all at her back - there is no need to throw it away, or to scavenge hope from the bones of personal sacrifice.

Catenna reaches out. Her hands drip stars like silver light as she clasps one of Cyre's in hers - and as she does, that silver light expands further, driven by the beat of her heart.

"Cyre," she whispers as a pair of immense silver butterfly wings, alight with purifying light, spread open behind her.

"Cyre, we were right back there, at the flame room... so long as our love for Filgaia is strong, there's no limit to what's possible...!"

The Malevolence pushes back. It can't possibly not. Not in the face of a complete moonrise of simple, pure love and faith - for to her, they are no different.

<Pose Tracker> Fei Fong Wong has posed.

Fei Fong Wong holds Elly's hand. "It's the message you've always given me. I'll hold you so long as you want me to. We've got people to return to after all." Normally at this point he'd hear a red voice telling him what he'd do. But...

???

A small blood-splattered child is sobbing his eyes out. He keeps apologizing, as best as Fei can tell, but there's no words beyond 'sorry' that he understands. Fei sits nearby, in a small wooden chair. This creature, he knows torments him.

He tortures him.

He actively tries to make him lose his mind, to kill his friends, and destroy the world.

He even tried to hurt Elly. He HAS hurt Elly.

But right now it's hard to think about all that because right now Id doesn't seem like much of a destroyer, but rather a small child who has suffered a great deal. If that small vision was anything to go by... he has suffered a great deal.

Fei crouches down and wraps an arm around Id's shoulders and holds him tight.

"I'll kill it. I'll kill everything. Destroy. Destroy the world. Destroy everything. Making it stop. Making it stop..." Id manages to get out.

"Yeah," Fei says. "But it won't be all bad."

Id leans in, blubbering.

LOVE CRADLE

Fei turns Elly so she can see Lanval. See what he's doing. See what he's offering. He smiles up at the Seraph, no, his friend. This close friend he somehow made in another world, just like he always dreamed once long ago. Alien, but human. Unknowable, yet knowable. "We didn't lose yet," Fei promises Elly. "Lanval's still fighting." He tells her, trying to hold onto that positive outlook so he can return it to Elly. "Cecilia's still fighting. We made it so we can win. We did it." He pauses for a moment as he looks at her.

It feels like she had fallen from a great height.

"I could feel it. You understood. I understand too."

"We promised we wouldn't apologize."

He is granted the ability to purify. Inside his heart of hearts, Id feels strangely warm for a moment and then--it's gone, blocked and locked away, but for a moment he was able to feel what an embrace was like.

Fei feels Moor Galt burning at his side. From his hand extends the burning purifying flame of contradiction.

Yes, a purifying flame of contradiction, accepted and appreciated for this moment as it is unleashed against the malevolence.

A BIT FURTHER AWAY

Marivel watches from a distance. She extends a hand, providing her own aid. She is no enemy of the Guardians. In truth, there are few more loyal though she'd never admit it because the Guardians are the world, and Marivel serves the world. Much like Cecilia, it was her inheritance. She smiles at the princess behind her scarf at a distance

She will have to speak to her one day. But not today.

"So this is how they did it," Marivel murmurs to herself. "And this is what Seraphs can do." Her gaze moves from Lanval towards Clarine. She will have to make sure that one is never alone in the dark.

But it's Moor Galt's words that speak to Marivel the most.

"You hear them, do you?" She says ruefully. "But sometimes I wonder if you truly listen."

She lets out a faint exhale before adding, "Well..." She looks to Ethius. "Goodbye. Thank you for removing those troublesome anomalies."

"And don't worry," she adds as she turns away. She doesn't say what not to worry about. Not to Ethius, nor to anyone.

But the Guardians know.

<Pose Tracker> Elvis has posed.

It felt good to have an ARM in his hand's that wouldn't break. Even if it wasn't his.

Perhaps if they survive this he should redouble his efforts to locate one of his own.

It felt good to fire those cannon shots and place a firm hit on K.K. "Stop while you still can," he states. "A single problem can easily have variable answers. This one need not be it."

And yet despite the work put in to halt these two, something happens. Reality clicks back into place by some unknown force, bringing back some of the fighters that had suddenly vanished as well.

The Orb itself has somehow had its wards unwoven. "You did it! Now we can-- hurk!"

There is a sickening lurch in the corruption level in the immediate vicinity. So much so it can be felt as a presence unto itself. Immediately effects and objects begin to be corrupted. This includes the water from Elvis' spell, which becomes infected and black, turning on its owner and a nearby Seraph. "Guh! I can't-- control it anymore!" he says, attempting to hold a hand out to command the water.

It does not answer. In fact, it seeks to harm the man himself, encroaching and attempting to corrupt in a matter of moments. "Do something-- quickly!" he shouts to those whom broke the ward as he fights for his life.

---

Yet not all is lost.

Within the radiant souls of those blessed by the Guardians, an effort mounts. For even the Guardians know the dire portents this Orb means. They reach out to their blessed children and empower them.

Even Elvis can feel something as the corrupted waters attacking begin to recede, control re-asserted. "Children of man, you lot are truly interesting," he says, freeing himself fully frol the black water, now crystal clear, from the purifying energies being poured out. "Perhaps I can help as well." The man gently kneels on one knee, and reaches both palms down to the ground. One hand glows blue, the other ochre.

"The purest of elements? A simple task for one such as myself! Let us see how this artifact can hold up to this effort."

Some would balk at the htought of a Veruni aiding a Guardian agenda. Others think it impossible to interact with them at all. Those two kinds of people might be disappointed this day. Pure water and earth flow along the ground, intertwining in places. The cracks and damages caused by the rigors of battle mend and repair that which it touches. The same power will hopefully have an effect on this so-called bullet.

<Pose Tracker> Ida Everstead-Rey has posed.

        Ida's hand gently touches the surface of the Orb. She feels smooth crystal beneath her fingers, grits her teeth, braces against the overwhelming surge of the Malevolence around her. She hears--voices.

        The Malevolence around her starts to thin. Ida breathes in the scent of a summer bonfire and clean ocean spray even as her mind reels from what's happening. The last time Moor Gault and Schturdark spoke, it was in the Guardian Temple, and she did not leave that meeting with high opinions of either of them. Now, though, she looks out at the sanctum and sees her companions--among them, Lanval, whole and uncorrupted and smiling. A woman she barely remembers from the sojurn into the Mirror. Boudicca.

        Ida's eyes mist over. It's a miracle, she thinks.

        But it isn't over yet.

        Flame curls in the palm of Ida's right hand. It's not the one touching the Orb--it's the one fused with the arm torn from Fafnir's living body. The Guardians' power flows through her, but it does not burn. Ida stares at it in wonderment; it flows outwards, consuming the Malevolence like flammable vapor. It isn't the pure blue flame of the Shepherd's purification, but it does not need to be. "Fei! Boudicca!" Ida draws her hand back, and the purifying energy coils itself into a tight knot in her palm--much like Malevolence did, when she fought as a Hellion. "Together!"

        Ida drives her hand forwards in an open-palm strike, and a wave of flame surges forth. It washes over the Orb, the Ark Scepter, and everything nearby. Ida pulls her hand back, twists it through the motions of a kata, and the wave follows every one. Where it moves, the Malevolence is burned to nothing.

<Pose Tracker> Xantia has posed.

Xantia is struck silent by the answer she receives from K.K.. The only thing more unexpected than hearing agreement was hearing the use of her actual name. She got so used to being spoken to in ways that made her feel like she doesn't understand anything that this change stands out immediately. It feels meaningful.

...And it still kind of makes her feel like she's failed to understand anything. Certainly not the choices that K.K. and Ragnell could have possible made to lead them here.

Even her upbeat attitude can't help but falter in this moment, looking between Lightning Seraph and 'Adversary', wondering out loud in a melancholy tone: "Was there really no other way?"

No answer reaches her before the Orb is exposed, bringing with it a terrible flood of Malevolence. And with it, dark thoughts.

'Hope' is just a word to make yourself feel better. It has no meaning. No substance. No power.

This is not who you are. You've lost your true self. You've all but given up on it in favor of new memories. You're nothing but a fake, an impostor.

Nobody really cares about you. They only tolerate you. They're better off without you. They wouldn't miss you if you disappeared.

Xantia screams under the weight, the assault of her insecurities, the one thing that she could never muster an effective defense against. Grabbing the sides of her head, all she can do is shout, over and over, "Shut up! Shut up!!" But it never ends. It won't allow her a moment's peace. It won't allow her to do anything about what's about to happen.

That is, if it wasn't for a sudden influx of water and fire, opposing elements working in tandem to hold the Malevolence at bay. It's not gone from her mind, not entirely. But it's given her a chance to fight back. Looking in wonder at her left hand, surrounded by water, and her right, surrounded by fire... she closes her right, embracing the element she feels the greater affinity with.

And she finds her smile again.

"...Almost. You almost got me to actually believe any of that is actually true. But I... who I am... what I have... no one can take that away from me. I won't let anything take that away from me! I'll show you just how powerful Hope really is!"

With that, Xantia does exactly what anyone would expect from her. She charges forward, forcing her way with a fist of purifying flame, not about to stop punching the problem until it goes away.

All is right with the world.

<Pose Tracker> Elhaym van Houten has posed.

 
Elly doesn't stop trembling even as she's shifted around. "A-ah... I reme, member, I just... I don't know... ah, it was t-tough." She presses against Fei again, and she looks, and she can feel something pure sliding in from the sides. She remembers Solais Emsu, and Dam Dariam, and the others, and yet she feels tremendously tired and cold, despite that little spark of warmth.

She slumps against Fei, and her eyes close.

The trembling stops. She breathes out.




                                                happy boost!

Elly's right eye opens again.

The trembling starts as well, but she makes a clumsy giggle then. She blinks slowly again and says, "It's a bad time, perhaps. But I suppose there is something to 'destroy'."

Her right hand comes up, shaking - except for a moment when instead there is a supple, smooth gesture, as if of benediction. Her fingertips radiate fire, and the shape is that ultrabright cube she's thrown in the past. Except that the shape isn't, quite, a cube: it's more organic. Two lobes, one point. An arrowhead? Or perhaps a heart.

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Ceimglace has posed.

 Ragnell doesn't get a response from Ceimglace - not in the traditional way of a 'response' - it's mostly an acknowledgement. Words were had. The two had a disagreement. They possibly still have a disagreement? It's hard to tell. Lanvel - Boudicca - get raised eyebrows (one a piece), from the Ice Seraph, but they settle. The feeling of Purification - of good, of love, of hope... She knows it needs to be used.
 
 They've made it so far... so she keeps pushing. Ceimglace doesn't act out too much, though, instead, pulling out a couple of things from her little bag - a carved emblem of a music note, ages old, and she holds it to her chest.
 
 Anyone can hear her, even as she lifts up the emblem to the Malevolence, and her Purification is fueled by Water: it's not lively and bubbly, and shards of it drops as it gets too cold, but the feeling is there: behind ice, there is water ...

<Pose Tracker> Josephine Lovelace has posed.

        Is this it? Maybe this is it. She tucks her flask back in her pocket, watching on as Cyre joins with Catenna. Inspite of it all, a smile lingers on her lips. Beyond the sensitivity afforded her as a wizard's daughter, she has no full appreciation of what the shamans now stand against -- only what she can now feel battering her senses.

        Won't they be able to manage it?
        Maybe not intrudes the realization, like a sore tooth.

        It's strange. After all that. After fear, and hate, and despair, and loss, all ripped out of her one after another, she'd almost think she'd keep on fighting. Keep on struggling to the end. All she can do now though is watch, her gaze heavy lidded as the air writhes with Malevolence. She feels...

        Of all things, she lifts her hand to her throat and, from over the collar of her shirt, tugs at the cord there. It comes free.
        Just a single bead, the last one from that necklace she had lost in the Hollow.
        Just one bead of a prayer necklace favored by the Guardianists.
        Her sister's last gift to her. She holds it now as if it were a talisman.

        "I don't... want to stop here..." she murmurs, as if it were a prayer.

        They haven't lost yet, Fei says. Lanval's still fighting. The princess is still fighting. They all--

        Ah. And like that, just like that, the balance is tipped. She takes a breath, and it feels for the moment as if all is light.
        As if she were a child again, escaping lessons and running into the forest with her sister. Freedom. This is how it felt: a world that stretched out before the both of them.

        "Ain't I supposed to be the one sayin' that," she drawls, exhaling out a long breath as the flames -- the fire that cauterizes, the fire that consumes the chaff -- does a lazy circuit about her.

        'Happy Boost', huh? It elicits a short bark of a laugh from the archaeologist, before, looping the cord of the bead necklace about her wrist as best she can, she draws her ARM.
        Her ARM, which should have no ammunition left.
        It blazes a glorious red.

        "C'mon. We've all got other things to do, right?"

        At the Orb, she snaps off a shot.

        "And doing 'em means we need a tomorrow!"

<Pose Tracker> Cecilia Adlehyde has posed.

The power fills her. It's hard to put her finger on what's new, other than perhaps 'everything'. Cecilia has issued her final challenge, and her staff feels renewed in her hand. She senses others moving, the voices of the world calling out anew. "I won't allow it," Cecilia declares, a serenity coming across her. Lanval and Beast--Boudica-- and Catenna burn, and Cecilia burns with them, even in the aura of Schturdark.

So she steps forward, daring to approach that impossible fountain of darkness, light trailing in her wake. "Too much suffering in this," she whispers. "Too much sorrow bound up at once. The Guardians give us the light, but we must be the ones to pick it up. Hold it, burn ourselves with it if we must. This thing is unnatural. I do not accept this evil! This planet has too many evils as it is! I do not accept it!"

The Mediums glow around her, blaring lights aligning in sacred formations as each Guardian finds it space. She does not have all the Mediums. She doesn't need them; she feels them all calling to her now. The fear of the sky, the anger of the land...is what she said once. But for once, the voices all say the same thing.

A beacon, the Princess of Adlehyde and Shaman of Filgaia rains purification upon the blight.

<Pose Tracker> Gwen Whitlock has posed.

        It wasn't enough. It was too late.

        The temporary reprieve she felt from her darkest desires is now waived, and thoughts come back to her in full force, and overtake Gwen's senses.

        She'll die here like a dog.

        It would be better to destroy it all.
        It would be better to snuff it out.
        It would be better to use whatever power she had and End It.

        "..." Her ARM hand curls obsessively, as if wringing some invisible, thin neck in its grasp.

        It's not what her ARM made of, or what it once was, that is frightening to her in this moment. It's the fact that it is acting on her desires, giving them a voice where she would otherwise be limited by strength or will.

        And that Gwen finds herself looking towards Ragnell. To K.K. To her friends, to everyone she has the ability to look at.

        She's not even angry, or scared.

        Snuff the candle before it consumes itself in its fury. Gwen could do that.

        Gently guide them all, with the electric pulses that flow through all that lives... to sleep.

        And Gwen
                reaches over
                                with her left hand

                        and turns off her right ARM.

        It's just a temporary disablement, the sensation of touch fading to tingling numbness as the ARM falls to an inert, partially running state. It wouldn't kill Gwen, not immediately, not after several days, weeks maybe.

        It could be seen as giving up, to those who happen to see her. To someone like Ida, it may seem more like the way Gwen speared her own mutating ARM, in order to embrace Ida's Hellion self.

        She looks over at Ragnell, a weak smile on her face. "... I really wish I still had more of that bottle we drank, back in the Badlands. That was some good stuff."

        Deny yourself, and Malevolence will take over.

        Gwen wonders if it will hurt.

        ------
        
        The child placidly sits on a cot in a room, littered with dusty books. The wall facing the sun is bare, revealing the sky and the clouds, as well as the land, far below. She does not move, her one arm lays limply at her right side, palm open on the bed. Her eyelids are heavy. She sleeps.

        The Blessing comes in as a fresh breeze, of rain and ozone. Thunder rumbles in the distance. The girl opens her eyes.

        She smiles.
        
        -------

        Gwen's ARM shines, despite being turned off. But she isn't afraid. She knows what this is, even if she has no words to describe it. The knowledge may even leave her once this swell has passed her.

        It isn't Malevolence. That's certain. Her ARM and heart glow with the lightning granted by the Guardians. Her hand gestures past the Trial Knight, past Ragnell, and towards the Orb and the Scepter. Her voice is soft.

        "Purify."

<Pose Tracker> Cyre H. Lorentz has posed.

He had given all that could be given. A shaman he might have been, but the human body can tolerate only so much before it begins to break down. But even so-- even so, he doesn't stop. He presses into that darkness alongside the one he loves, even when it seems overwhelming, when it feels as though nothing could possibly save them.

They need a miracle.

And from the depths of the ley, it comes.

"Don't start making me jealous of the planet now," Cyre jokes, grinning in spite of the tide of darkness surging all around them. "You fell in love with a greedy man, I think. I can't just be satisfied with loving the world. But that's fine, that's okay. It's like you say-- it's bottomless. Infinite. There's plenty to give, even more to receive."

Catenna ignites, blazing silvery-white like the face of the Silver Star resplendant in the night sky. Cyre gives her a warm smile and interlinks his fingers between hers, "You look amazing, you know that? Especially right now. I can't put into words how proud I am." Silvery light pulses outward, forcing the Malevolence back and giving them both vital room to breathe. Cyre laughs, bringing their linked hands up as if reaching as one toward the Malevolent Orb. The wind stirs, twisting gales of emerald light pouring out from the supernova of moonlight, swirling and surging through the Malevolent tide and sweeping it away like so much dust. "Let's do this. The planet and the people that we love--"

"As long as we hold them dear," the Wind-Walker roars as the winds unfold into a swirling storm, the two priests standing within its moonlit cyclone eye. "Nothing can stand in our way!"

<Pose Tracker> Seraph Solanine has posed.

In the grip of the Malevolence time shifts and warps. The group of Drifters who delved into the shrine return, among them Solanine is relieved to see, Ida. Ida with whose help she now has a chance against this swirling hell of spiritual blight that encroaches upon her, attempting to twist her magic and heart. She continues to put aside her doubts and uncertainties for another time, in the now they are gone. The now in which she is needed, (the now SHE has needed) where she has something to stand for, for now. Something to protect... to have purpose. To save those she's come to call friend. To give the Blue Star the second chance she promised Ragnell.

She concentrates on maintaining this mental state, to protect herself from the nova of Malevolence erupting around her, to continue to give her shadows form as the whispering darkness claws against her.

 She suspects it is now as it was before, the time of the Shaman has arrived, to purify the Malevolence. Surely none of them could approach the orb closely enough to destroy it conventionally. If that even would work.

 Until then, she just has to keep her mind from wandering, to focus on her Vessel, to support her allies if need be, to endure, til their work is done, til they repeat the Miracle that vanquished the Sword Dancer. The Malevolence is so much stronger here than it was then, thick and oppressive. In another time she'd wonder if she could even move against it besides standing as she is, but in this moment she only can believe that if she needs to move to help the others, she can. She can't falter, not after all that's happened.

But then, something unexpected.

Lanval, and Beast, no... Boudicca they claim as their name?

Seraphim both, but possessing a different energy than that which she felt before. They offer to every one assembled, fire and water, with which to purify...? She accepts the offer of water and water and absorbs the essence of it into her darkness, which shimmers with silver

The feeling is indescribable... such... peace...

Her heart blooms like the flowers she tended in her youth, the flowers whose shape she crafts her darkness in even now, and her darkness now descends on the malevolence in a gentle wave of her memories and resolve.

Petals of darkness shining with silver, landing on and dispelling fell emotion and spiritual plague wherever they find it.

<Pose Tracker> K.K. has posed.

I am the Shaman of this world, Trial Knight.

The blaze of light that is K.K., and simply K.K., looks upon Cecilia Adlehyde. At the Goddess Idol in her hand. At the determination that emboldens and strengthens her soul.

The light of an Oath suffuses her. The one who would call themself the Adversary of Mankind's hands tremor.

And my word is so much more than steel.

"So it is, Cecilia Adlehyde."

The Malevolence of the Orb swirls around them. They do not flinch away from it. Their right hand lifts.

"Well met, Shaman."

The power of the Guardians come. The power of Raftina blesses Cecilia. And through it all, K.K. watches. They do not press their offensive. They do not try to stop it. They do not fight back. They simply watch.

Watch, as Seraph Lanval finds himself within the bolstering wealth of his mirthful laugh. As the Beast of Lohgrin sheds her cage and becomes something more.

As they both receive a gift that shall help to change everything.

"They were worthy," they murmur, under their breath, to a sight unseen,

                        "were they not?"

Like someone exuberant to have their point proven.

They are close to the Orb, now, the assaults of those gathered having forced their position there. Even in the midst of the storm, they stay unswayed. Their gaze tilts down, quiet, towards that gateway into the Ley, forced open by their hand. Pried apart by the gift of the Ark Scepter. A connection to the Guardians that cannot be denied.

<Pose Tracker> K.K. has posed.

        It's a wonder to Ragnell too, this miracle that has been borne of Love--the purification that channels from Guardians to Seraphim, and outward towards human and beastfolk and more, to sear away the Malevolence that almost changed Lanval to a Fell Dragon on the spot, that instead empowers him and Beast--no, Boudicca to cleanse it from this world. Many of them work together to cleanse the Anomalous Orb, striving, hoping, working together. Ceimglace plays her melody. Xantia wonders if there really was no other way. Talia gives everyone a "happy boost!!" Clarine accepts a gift while wishing for a different past. Gwen wishes she and Ragnell could have shared more of that bottle. Cecilia, the Shaman Princess, burns.
        
        And so on.
        
        The degree to which anything anyone says or does now matters to Ragnell varies greatly. Some, like Talia and Gwen, get an amused snort or a rueful chuckle out of her. Others, like Chime, may as well be the swarming of a cloud of gnats. But there are priorities within priorities. As the Drifters assembled unite their powers to purify the Anomalous Orb, Ragnell makes no effort to stop them. She only continues to reach out for the Adversary, fingers splayed, almost lost in the light of the Ley.
        The Adversary, in turn, looks towards Ragnell, so close, panting -- working so hard. Fighting so hard.

        Their voice is warm, when they speak next.

"Ragnell," they exhale, past the tin of that helmet. Lost to the roar of power that sweeps through the sanctum of Raftina.

"'Tis something remarkable, isn't it?"

Ragnell laughs faintly, smile growing. The look in her eyes is one no less than Raftina's blessing. "It really is," she replies. She reaches out towards them.

They reach out towards her.

"Ragnell... there is none other I would have ever wished at my side--"

                           And there is a flash.

<Pose Tracker> K.K. has posed.

Purification wars with Malevolence that has built up for a year towards a singular, apocalyptic goal. One alone could never have done it.

But they are not one.

They are legion.

A legion full of hope. Full of courage. Full of love.

Full of even desire.

The contents of the Anomalous Orb hiss and spill from it like water from a squeezed sponge. Bullets, weaponry, and pure purifying power collide with it, beating it back further and further. Water grows clear. Fire grows a deep hot orange. Eletricity calms. The elements start to abate. Shards of memories, of Arctica, where the Sword Dancer was born; of Timney, where this all began for so many; of Wehaca, which started the chain; of Krosse, where defeat but ultimate triumph lied.

Of the Sanctuary, as Anomalous memories are dissolved away --

And the Ark Scepter s h i n e s.

A flash. The Scepter responds. And amidst that purifying stream, as the Malevolence grows weak and feeble, trying to retreat on itself --

The Scepter rejects the Orb.

And in a purifying flash, all that Malevolence simply -explodes-.



K.K. reaches out for Ragnell.

And the blowback hits, ripping that hand away seconds before it can touch.

Power washes over the knight in their shining, radiant armor. It sears at Ragnell's back, blazing away that poncho and knocking the feathered hat clear off her head, exposing all the wounds she sustained during battle and burning on new ones. It burns away at the Adversary's helmet until the lower half of it melts away.

They fall.

                                    ---

"A new... look?"

"Yeah. Like armor or something. Something intimidating."

The robed figure considers. Their head cants.

"Something... intimidating."

And their smile is a radiant one as they turn towards their companion.

"Ragnell..."


                    I am so glad that you are with me.

                                    ---

Their smile is radiant as their fingers slip away

                she doesn't hesitate to launch herself after them

                        and together they fall, into that gateway leading into the heart of the world.

...

When the light fades, there is a soft, crystal clink, and a stonier thud to follow.

The Ark Scepter rolls across the ground, ending at several feet from the Drifters.

The Orb lays where that gateway once was.

Crystalline. Emptied.

Pure.


There is nothing else.
        
        And Ragnell's hat--the feathered thing of which she was so very fond--drifts slowly down from above to land, singed but otherwise unharmed, at Talia's feet.

                           Chapter 1, Epilogue

                                                        Fin
                                                        A wish is born.