Oath Sign: Frozen Sun (IC)

[Blackout]

You awake, face down in the snow.

It is not a gentle awakening, but rather an abrupt, instinctive survival response. The air is cold enough to immediately begin biting into any exposed flesh, and the wind is not helping matters.

The snow holds no tracks save your own impressions on it, and though the light rain of snowflakes could have concealed them, you aren't cold enough to have spent a significant time lying there. The sky is thick with grey clouds, with the last rays of the sun making a soft glow in horizon, but you can tell that it will be dark soon.


@Xellos

You find yourself at the bank of river, unfrozen and running despite the cold. Covered in both sides by rocks of greater and smaller size, your own position being on top of a relatively large but flat one. Everywhere around you there are trees, pines mainly but with spruces mixed in, packed heavy with snow.

A rustle of feathers draws your attention to the opposite bank of the river: a jet-black raven is sitting on top of a rock, looking at you intently. As soon as your eyes meet, an ethereal voice speaks into your mind.

"Find he-who-knows. The demon will seek his death, but you must not allow it."

The raven caws once, flicks it's beak towards the river, and rustles it's feathers again.

Before you can even begin to sort out what just happened, it's gone. Not just flown off, just straight-up disappeared.

You're pretty sure it was a spirit of some description.


@samdamandias

You awake in a forest. Just a regular pine forest, covered in thick enough snow to reach your knees, stretching as far as you can see in every direction. There is not a single living being in sight, save for the hum of the wind the forest is dead-silent. There is nothing here.

Nothing at all... except for yourself, and the message written in still-warm blood on the snow before you.

"Find the dwarf, and devour him whole. Leave not even a single scrap of him to remain on this earth, and I will reward you handsomely."


@Ψυχή

Your present locale is what would appear to be the backyard of a yellow-painted family house, single story tall and with walls of wood, but on a raised stone substructure. A relatively modest garden of sorts, though covered by snow, surrounds you while a children-sized playhouse and sandbox lie off to the side. On either side you can see sparse hedgerow and behind that more all-but identical properties in various different colors. What draws your attention however, is that the side of the house nearest to you is adorned by a message written in half-a-meter letters, carved into the wood with some sort of sharp implement.

"The Egyptian will soon need your help. Make sure he lives, and you will be rewarded."

On the back wall you can also see two windows, both with their binds pulled shut, but as far as you can tell the power is off. As a matter of a fact, the whole neighbourhood seems to have no central electricity, the only sources you can detect being smaller batteries. You are somewhat protected from the wind but the cold is still enough that you wouldn't want to spend more than a few minutes in it, at least not without acquiring heavier clothing.


@God and the Snake

Making note of your surroundings, you find yourself situated in the middle of what is rapidly apparent to be a frozen lake, perhaps a kilometer in width and a length of at least three, but a bend in the banks blocks your sight from the rest. Earthen barriers rising twice a man's height over the water surround it from two directions: near as you can tell they cannot be natural, meaning the lake has to be at least partially artifical. The third one you can see is a rocky beach disappearing into a thick spruce forest, while pines can be seen in the distance at the others.

A power plant lies on the bank to your right, but as far as you can see it isn't in operation, as the lights appear to be offline and the smokestacks cold. A layer of snow covers the ice, but it appears to be more than solid enough to support your weight.


Unlike the others, however, you can see tracks on the snow coming from the forest and leading beyond the bend in the lake. Several human males, passing near your location at a full run, not too long ago since the snowfall hasn't covered them yet. More interestingly, they are accompanied by irregular footprints you cannot place as belonging to any natural animal.


@Bondo

You find yourself in... a parking lot. It's just like any other, an asphalt square maybe hundred meters across surrounded by pine trees and filled with cars all models and colors, all covered under a hefty layer of snow. It looks to have been built into the side of a hill, but trees around the lot block your immediate line of sight. Nobody seems to be around, and the cars appear to have been sitting there for several days.

However, while the scenery may not be very glamorous, written in the snow before you are the words "Make sure the boy dies, and you will find Senpai" written in blood, fresh enough to be steaming.

Some sort of commotion seems to be going on uphill: you can hear faint noises, but nothing you can make sense of at the moment.


@Mina

The road is quiet and still: perhaps for the best as you find yourself right in the middle of it. The asphalt motorway, covered only by a thin sheen of snow, stretches on for a fair distance before finally disappearing behind a hill, causing a nasty wind to blow across the relatively open space. It is fairly modest but well-maintained, though thanks to to the snowfall you can see no specific tracks. Comparing it to the surroundings you would guess that it has been used recently with some frequency, however.

A thick forest surrounds you on both left and right, towering pines cutting line of sight. Further ahead you can see several snow-covered bumps on the side of a road, perhaps seven hundred meters ahead.

 

[Ψυχή]

@Ψυχή

Your present locale is what would appear to be the backyard of a yellow-painted family house, single story tall and with walls of wood, but on a raised stone substructure. A relatively modest garden of sorts, though covered by snow, surrounds you while a children-sized playhouse and sandbox lie off to the side. On either side you can see sparse hedgerow and behind that more all-but identical properties in various different colors. What draws your attention however, is that the side of the house nearest to you is adorned by a message written in half-a-meter letters, carved into the wood with some sort of sharp implement.

"The Egyptian will soon need your help. Make sure he lives, and you will be rewarded."

On the back wall you can also see two windows, both with their binds pulled shut, but as far as you can tell the power is off. As a matter of a fact, the whole neighbourhood seems to have no central electricity, the only sources you can detect being smaller batteries. You are somewhat protected from the wind but the cold is still enough that you wouldn't want to spend more than a few minutes in it, at least not without acquiring heavier clothing.

Click to shrink...

Worst can't help but raise her eyebrow at the carved sign. Duly noted, Misaka supposes, but if the creepy message says rewarded then it must not be a requirement, per se. That or whoever dropped Misaka here expects Misaka to follow that as the one lead provided.

Generating a careful amount of iron sand with electricity, Worst slices the individual boards out from the house—careful to keep the message intact as much as the house—and takes them with her in her bag, noting the spare set of clothes is still inside. Better than carrying the whole thing around... With that finished, she walks over to the door and knocks just to be sure.

"Even with Railgun's winter clothes it's rather chilly. Good thing Misaka was already changed out of my normal wares..." she mutters to herself before speaking up. "Moshi moshi?"

 

[Xellos]

You awake, face down in the snow.

It is not a gentle awakening, but rather an abrupt, instinctive survival response. The air is cold enough to immediately begin biting into any exposed flesh, and the wind is not helping matters.

The snow holds no tracks save your own impressions on it, and though the light rain of snowflakes could have concealed them, you aren't cold enough to have spent a significant time lying there. The sky is thick with grey clouds, with the last rays of the sun making a soft glow in horizon, but you can tell that it will be dark soon.

Click to shrink...

'What the-?'

How... how had he gotten here? He had just been leaving Chicago after finishing the job that the Winter Knight had hired him for, Rent money in pocket. He couldn't remember what had happened after that. There was just a gap in his memory between 'getting out of Chicago' and 'waking up face down in the snow'.

He sat up, shivering slightly. Less than someone in his level of dress should be in this weather, but still chilled. Snow didn't exactly fit Hades portfolio, so he doubted the god was taking revenge for the groups burglary(besides, Grey hadn't actually taken anything, directly or otherwise). The Gate of Ice had been about this cold when it was turned off, so it just wasn't the sort of place the Lord of the Underworld would leave him, even if there was a reason to be angry.

So where the hell was he?

@Xellos

You find yourself at the bank of river, unfrozen and running despite the cold. Covered in both sides by rocks of greater and smaller size, your own position being on top of a relatively large but flat one. Everywhere around you there are trees, pines mainly but with spruces mixed in, packed heavy with snow.

Click to shrink...

A forest of some kind, by a river. Not one he was familiar with, but all told, not such a bad place to be. He could survive here, until he found a way to get back to civilization. Find a Way home. Still, there was something... off about the area.

A rustle of feathers draws your attention to the opposite bank of the river: a jet-black raven is sitting on top of a rock, looking at you intently. As soon as your eyes meet, an ethereal voice speaks into your mind.

"Find he-who-knows. The demon will seek his death, but you must not allow it."

The raven caws once, flicks it's beak towards the river, and rustles it's feathers.

Before you can even begin to sort out what just happened, it's gone. Not just flown off, just straight-up disappeared.

You're pretty sure it was a spirit of some description.

Click to shrink...

A raven. Vadderung, maybe? He doubted it. He had a better working relationship with the entity than that. A faerie, perhaps? They often did take the form of animals that could talk, and they tended to disappear like that. There was also too damn many kinds of fairy for any sane person to memorize, so he supposed it could be one he hadn't encountered before... or perhaps one that was glamoured to look different. He looked around again. He had technically just done a job for the Winter Court. You'd figure they'd be a bit more courteous about hiring him on again.

...Or it could just be some other Nevernever entity, taking the form of a mortal creature as disguise. Wasn't uncommon.

So. Find an unknown wise-man of some sort. Save him from an unknown demon of some sort. Not exactly the worst job he'd ever taken, but it was pretty high up there. Normally, he'd get some more information on what was desired than this. And would also not be kidnapped into doing it.

...Yeah, this wasn't an accepted contract yet. Maybe if the job became more knowable, but this was currently a 'maybe'. Maybe he'd find he-who-knows, and maybe he'd stop the demon. Depends on what came later. He had just gotten the Rent dealt with for a while with that last job, so he was his own man for now.

'First off, done with this cold.'

And with that thought, Grey changed. He didn't re-knit his form, nor did he remove his clothes to make it easier. No visible time was taken. One second a man stood there, brushing snow off himself while thinking. The next, an exceptionally large grey wolf. He had been forced to compress a tad, as that was less strenuous than keeping some mass in the Nevernever, but making the form larger than a normal member of its kind had helped... especially since size was a great adaptation against cold. Thick fur now shielding him from the chill, he decided to follow the river down its flow; most of the time, that would lead you to humans or some form of civilization eventually.

 

[Ψυχή]

Worst can't help but raise her eyebrow at the carved sign. Duly noted, Misaka supposes, but if the creepy message says rewarded then it must not be a requirement, per se. That or whoever dropped Misaka here expects Misaka to follow that as the one lead provided.

Generating a careful amount of iron sand with electricity, Worst slices the individual boards out from the house—careful to keep the message intact as much as the house—and takes them with her in her bag, noting the spare set of clothes is still inside. Better than carrying the whole thing around... With that finished, she walks over to the door and knocks just to be sure.

"Even with Railgun's winter clothes it's rather chilly. Good thing Misaka was already changed out of my normal wares..." she mutters to herself before speaking up. "Moshi moshi?"

Click to shrink...

After several moments of patience (and a few more knocks and calls while moving snow from the patio), Worst shrugged and used her ability to open the door (locks and all) using electromagnetism. After a moment to re-lock the door she turned back to the place at large and looked around for any signs of the occupants, as well as general resources, electrical appliances, and if the place would do for shelter for the night (even with a bit of work) instead of using her powers to make a snow-cave.

@Blackout

 

[Mina]

Cipher Nine's boots crunched on the crust of icy snow covering the ridge she'd been moving along for the last hour or so, using the cover to avoid the Republic lookouts on the plateau below. She unslung her carbine and brushed the frost off the covers of her optics before flipping the lids and scrambling up toward the crest. It was going to be a simple infiltration job. Sneak in, cut their power and disable their shields for the fire mission she'd task now. It wasn't glamorous, but she certainly didn't mind a milk run every now and again.

"Approaching target vantage, prep for coordinates, over."

"Affirmative, Cipher. Standing by."

She fell prone and crawled closer to the edge, working her way over the flat top of the ridge until..

The road is quiet and still: perhaps for the best as you find yourself right in the middle of it. The asphalt motorway, covered only by a thin sheen of snow, stretches on for a fair distance before finally disappearing behind a hill, causing a nasty wind to blow across the relatively open space. It is fairly modest but well-maintained, though thanks to to the snowfall you can see no specific tracks. Comparing it to the surroundings you would guess that it has been used recently with some frequency, however.

A thick forest surrounds you on both left and right, towering pines cutting line of sight. Further ahead you can see several snow-covered bumps on the side of a road, perhaps seven hundred meters ahead.

Click to shrink...

Her comms went dead.

"Orbital control. Orbital control?"

She cycled through her encrypted channels with checks, even hit a microburst that ought to have gotten Keeper's sweet voice in her ear a moment later but there was nothing. Looking around though the lack of communications may have been the least of her worries.

Dark trees, black pavement under her...what the hell was going on? She took a knee and scanned her surroundings. It was still snowy but this was certainly not Illum. The foliage, the sky, everything was wrong for the depths of the Unknown Regions. Apart from the lack of any active Imperial comms channels, it could have maybe been one of the highland regions of Alderaan, but it felt wrong. Who, how, why? Questions swirled in her mind without solid answer, but she had her suspicions.

"Jedi or Sith...never leaving well enough alone, but this? This is beyond the pale." If this was some ham-fisted mind-wipe plot she'd find the lordling responsible and show them just what the power of the Force was against a highly motivated Chiss with fourteen inches of vibrating cortosis blade. The warmth of anger cut back the chill in her fingers and nose a little at least, but she couldn't count on that to last in this wind.

The agent slipped in to action, running down off the road so as to be clear of any traffic or observers. She crowded up against the treeline for a bit of cover, fishing out her magnoculars to check the surrounding forests for thermals and focusing in on the lumps ahead of her in particular. On a strange planet with no back up she wasn't about to take any chances when it came to local wildlife and their nesting habits.

 

[samdamandias]

You awake, face down in the snow.

It is not a gentle awakening, but rather an abrupt, instinctive survival response. The air is cold enough to immediately begin biting into any exposed flesh, and the wind is not helping matters.

The snow holds no tracks save your own impressions on it, and though the light rain of snowflakes could have concealed them, you aren't cold enough to have spent a significant time lying there. The sky is thick with grey clouds, with the last rays of the sun making a soft glow in horizon, but you can tell that it will be dark soon.

You awake in a forest. Just a regular pine forest, covered in thick enough snow to reach your knees, stretching as far as you can see in every direction. There is not a single living being in sight, save for the hum of the wind the forest is dead-silent. There is nothing here.

Nothing at all... except for yourself, and the message written in still-warm blood on the snow before you.

"Find the dwarf, and devour him whole. Leave not even a single scrap of him to remain on this earth, and I will reward you handsomely."

Click to shrink...

Jurdin Seamonkey flips over on to his back, balancing on his tail, claws splayed to rend and tear.

There is nothing. Nothing but the (perfectly natural) cold seeping into his flesh and fogging his breath. No swords, spears, or binding diagrams.

Jurdin looks closer at the message. He was brought here for a task, then? But he feels no binding, and Chariot would have left certain markers to let him know who the message was from, even if Chariot didn't like talking about his boss or coworkers. His tongue flicks out, scooping snow and tangy blood into his mouth. It is new. Not merely fresh, as the steam wafting off of it shows, but something he's never tasted before. It would be sweeter if it was blood he had shed himself, but he'll take it for now. It would not do for someone else to stumble across this message. He quickly laps up most of the blood and tramples snow through the rest.

Jurdin approaches one of the trees and begins to climb. If he can get some elevation, he might be able to see more of the terrain and have a better idea where he should go. And even if that didn't work, he'd still be far faster in the trees than he would on the ground, and leave far fewer tracks.

 

[God and the Snake]

@God and the Snake

Making note of your surroundings, you find yourself situated in the middle of what is rapidly apparent to be a frozen lake, perhaps a kilometer in width and a length of at least three, but a bend in the banks blocks your sight from the rest. Earthen barriers rising twice a man's height over the water surround it from two directions: near as you can tell they cannot be natural, meaning the lake has to be at least partially artifical. The third one you can see is a rocky beach disappearing into a thick spruce forest, while pines can be seen in the distance at the others.

A power plant lies on the bank to your right, but as far as you can see it isn't in operation, as the lights appear to be offline and the smokestacks cold. A layer of snow covers the ice, but it appears to be more than solid enough to support your weight.


Unlike the others, however, you can see tracks on the snow coming from the forest and leading beyond the bend in the lake. Several human males, passing near your location at a full run, not too long ago since the snowfall hasn't covered them yet. More interestingly, they are accompanied by irregular footprints you cannot place as belonging to any natural animal.

Click to shrink...

It was the cold that woke him: A gust of wind cut through his red robes like a dagger through the spine, forcing Avdol to rise from his snowy bed. Luckily, his mind returned to him quickly: The same cold pushed the vestiges of confusion away through the primal instinct of survival.

He should be dead.

Mere moments ago, he had shoved Polnareff and Iggy out of the path of that monstrous being that could've only been a Stand, and now... he was here. Had it banished him to this strange place, a prison within it?

Avdol shook his head. It was possible, even likely. But that it could be some other unusual phenomena was equally possible.

Another gale blew through his body, and Avdol clutched his arms. This wouldn't do at all...

"Magician's Red!"

Bidden, the great flaming phoenix emerged from his body and wreathed itself in flame. The temperature around Avdol rose sharply, banishing the cold for the moment.

That issue solved for the time being, he eventually elected to follow the tracks: The far off power plant might serve as shelter if he could not find civilization, but the path left by his fellow humans had a limited time table to be followed.

 

[Khawy]

@Bondo

You find yourself in... a parking lot. It's just like any other, an asphalt square maybe hundred meters across surrounded by pine trees and filled with cars all models and colors, all covered under a hefty layer of snow. It looks to have been built into the side of a hill, but trees around the lot block your immediate line of sight. Nobody seems to be around, and the cars appear to have been sitting there for several days.

However, while the scenery may not be very glamorous, written in the snow before you are the words "Make sure the boy dies, and you will find Senpai" written in blood, fresh enough to be steaming.

Some sort of commotion seems to be going on uphill: you can hear faint noises, but nothing you can make sense of at the moment.

Click to shrink...

coldcoldcoldcold

Why was it so cold? Oh, that's because she was at some parking lot filled with snow, that's why. Wait... How did she even get here in the first place? Could this be the work of an enemy Stand? Last thing she remembered was stalkingkeeping Senpai safe from all those skanks and floozies out to get him. No way in hell, would Ayano Yanase ever let those whores defiled her Senpai with their skankiness.

But right now, she had no idea wherever this place was beside being a parking lot packed with snow.

Shivering under her coat, arms hugging her sides, she spied the message written in blood. Oh, well that won't do at all. One of those skanks must have been a Stand User and sent her here to get Senpai away from her. That bitch was so asking to be stabbed once she find her way back.

Senpai needed her. She was so going to give the bitch did this to her one hell of a payback. But first thing first..

"Want U Back In Heaven," Ayano muttered in the cold, icy air, her eyes hazy. The doll-like Stand's head peeked up from her head, looking for any clues in the parking lot. She wanted to gather up any clues here before investigating whatever that commotion up in the hill was.

 

[Blackout]

'What the-?'

How... how had he gotten here? He had just been leaving Chicago after finishing the job that the Winter Knight had hired him for, Rent money in pocket. He couldn't remember what had happened after that. There was just a gap in his memory between 'getting out of Chicago' and 'waking up face down in the snow'.

He sat up, shivering slightly. Less than someone in his level of dress should be in this weather, but still chilled. Snow didn't exactly fit Hades portfolio, so he doubted the god was taking revenge for the groups burglary(besides, Grey hadn't actually taken anything, directly or otherwise). The Gate of Ice had been about this cold when it was turned off, so it just wasn't the sort of place the Lord of the Underworld would leave him, even if there was a reason to be angry.

So where the hell was he?



A forest of some kind, by a river. Not one he was familiar with, but all told, not such a bad place to be. He could survive here, until he found a way to get back to civilization. Find a Way home. Still, there was something... off about the area.



A raven. Vadderung, maybe? He doubted it. He had a better working relationship with the entity than that. A faerie, perhaps? They often did take the form of animals that could talk, and they tended to disappear like that. There was also too damn many kinds of fairy for any sane person to memorize, so he supposed it could be one he hadn't encountered before... or perhaps one that was glamoured to look different. He looked around again. He had technically just done a job for the Winter Court. You'd figure they'd be a bit more courteous about hiring him on again.

...Or it could just be some other Nevernever entity, taking the form of a mortal creature as disguise. Wasn't uncommon.

So. Find an unknown wise-man of some sort. Save him from an unknown demon of some sort. Not exactly the worst job he'd ever taken, but it was pretty high up there. Normally, he'd get some more information on what was desired than this. And would also not be kidnapped into doing it.

...Yeah, this wasn't an accepted contract yet. Maybe if the job became more knowable, but this was currently a 'maybe'. Maybe he'd find he-who-knows, and maybe he'd stop the demon. Depends on what came later. He had just gotten the Rent dealt with for a while with that last job, so he was his own man for now.

'First off, done with this cold.

And with that thought, Grey changed. He didn't re-knit his form, nor did he remove his clothes to make it easier. No visible time was taken. One second a man stood there, brushing snow off himself while thinking. The next, an exceptionally large grey wolf. He had been forced to compress a tad, as that was less strenuous than keeping some mass in the Nevernever, but making the form larger than a normal member of its kind had helped... especially since size was a great adaptation against cold. Thick fur now shielding him from the chill, he decided to follow the river down its flow; most of the time, that would lead you to humans or some form of civilization eventually.

Click to shrink...

As you make your way downstream, you can fairly easily tell something is amiss.

The landscape itself is nothing unusual, just another a river zig-zagging it's way across yet another forest. There are some fallen and bent trees, you'd judge that the place has seen a harsh storm in recent days, but aside from that it's nothing you haven't seen before.

The scenery, that is. Everything else...

First of all, especially considering the snowfall, there are simply too many tracks. Everything from hares to deer to even a wolverine: if this kind of density is natural, then you've never set foot into wilderness before.

Secondly, you've already come under observation by the local spirits. Invisible and intangible or in the form of small animals like squirrels or birds, they seem to poke around the edge of your senses, but any indication that you've noticed them, indeed even so much as twitching in their general direction, invariably sends them fleeing like the hounds of hell were at their heels.

Thirdly, while it's harder to judge as abnormal, the forest is definitely more supernaturally active than one would expect. Not all spirits you encounter seem to be deliberately shadowing you, as far as you can tell some of them just wandered nearby, but they too make a hasty escapes as soon as they notice you. The ambient flows of magic are also considerably higher than just another forest in the middle of nowhere, and you've located several spots where it seems to gather, your guess would be that they're old graves and ancient places of worship, the dwellings of spirits.

After several moments of patience (and a few more knocks and calls while moving snow from the patio), Worst shrugged and used her ability to open the door (locks and all) using electromagnetism. After a moment to re-lock the door she turned back to the place at large and looked around for any signs of the occupants, as well as general resources, electrical appliances, and if the place would do for shelter for the night (even with a bit of work) instead of using her powers to make a snow-cave.

@Blackout

Click to shrink...

The house is almost eerie as you step in, quiet as a cemetery. You can see no sign of occupants, and the light screen of frost covering the floor tells you that they've been gone for a while.

It's not much warmer, but at least you're safe from the wind.

It's a decently sized middle-class apartment, with rooms arranged in a circular pattern around a central fireplace. Starting from the vestibule you arrived from, there are two bedrooms, a workroom with a computer, living room arranged around a television, master bedroom, bathroom connected to a sauna and finally a kitchen.

Water and electricity are cut off, and powering up either the TV or the PC results in the same: no signal found. Even the radio-controlled clock has stopped.

There's food in the kitchen, but that find is a touch mitigated by the fact that you aren't sure how much of it is spoiled, though there is enough canned pineapple and tuna to last you a day, two if you're careful. If you can get drinkable water.

The sauna would likely be the best place to spend the night since it's the most centrally located room and the only one without windows, but you are unable to locate any firewood in the house, and a fallen branch seems to have smashed the kitchen windows, compromising the insulation.

Cipher Nine's boots crunched on the crust of icy snow covering the ridge she'd been moving along for the last hour or so, using the cover to avoid the Republic lookouts on the plateau below. She unslung her carbine and brushed the frost off the covers of her optics before flipping the lids and scrambling up toward the crest. It was going to be a simple infiltration job. Sneak in, cut their power and disable their shields for the fire mission she'd task now. It wasn't glamorous, but she certainly didn't mind a milk run every now and again.

"Approaching target vantage, prep for coordinates, over."

"Affirmative, Cipher. Standing by."

She fell prone and crawled closer to the edge, working her way over the flat top of the ridge until..



Her comms went dead.

"Orbital control. Orbital control?"

She cycled through her encrypted channels with checks, even hit a microburst that ought to have gotten Keeper's sweet voice in her ear a moment later but there was nothing. Looking around though the lack of communications may have been the least of her worries.

Dark trees, black pavement under her...what the hell was going on? She took a knee and scanned her surroundings. It was still snowy but this was certainly not Illum. The foliage, the sky, everything was wrong for the depths of the Unknown Regions. Apart from the lack of any active Imperial comms channels, it could have maybe been one of the highland regions of Alderaan, but it felt wrong. Who, how, why? Questions swirled in her mind without solid answer, but she had her suspicions.

"Jedi or Sith...never leaving well enough alone, but this? This is beyond the pale." If this was some ham-fisted mind-wipe plot she'd find the lordling responsible and show them just what the power of the Force was against a highly motivated Chiss with fourteen inches of vibrating cortosis blade. The warmth of anger cut back the chill in her fingers and nose a little at least, but she couldn't count on that to last in this wind.

The agent slipped in to action, running down off the road so as to be clear of any traffic or observers. She crowded up against the treeline for a bit of cover, fishing out her magnoculars to check the surrounding forests for thermals and focusing in on the lumps ahead of her in particular. On a strange planet with no back up she wasn't about to take any chances when it came to local wildlife and their nesting habits.

Click to shrink...

Nothing on the thermals except small animals... except... there!

Situated downwind of you, just barely visible past the trees, some sort of large lifeform.

Standing on four legs, it's at least a foot or two taller than you at the shoulder, and much heavier. It looks like a herbivore, but the pair of massive horns adorning it's head, large enough to gore a man with ease, remind that that doesn't necessarily correlate with being harmless. It seems to be content to stand still, watching you from afar.

A quick sweep of the bumps doesn't reveal any thermal signatures, but the magnification does help with identification: based on the track sticking sideways out of the snow, at least one of them appears to be some sort of pimritive vehicle, tipped over on it's side just by the edge of the forest.

Jurdin Seamonkey flips over on to his back, balancing on his tail, claws splayed to rend and tear.

There is nothing. Nothing but the (perfectly natural) cold seeping into his flesh and fogging his breath. No swords, spears, or binding diagrams.

Jurdin looks closer at the message. He was brought here for a task, then? But he feels no binding, and Chariot would have left certain markers to let him know who the message was from, even if Chariot didn't like talking about his boss or coworkers. His tongue flicks out, scooping snow and tangy blood into his mouth. It is new. Not merely fresh, as the steam wafting off of it shows, but something he's never tasted before. It would be sweeter if it was blood he had shed himself, but he'll take it for now. It would not do for someone else to stumble across this message. He quickly laps up most of the blood and tramples snow through the rest.

Jurdin approaches one of the trees and begins to climb. If he can get some elevation, he might be able to see more of the terrain and have a better idea where he should go. And even if that didn't work, he'd still be far faster in the trees than he would on the ground, and leave far fewer tracks.

Click to shrink...

You quickly take to the trees, moving across the forest. The pines aren't ideal for climbing, the canopy being sparse and the branches not always thick enough to support you, but you make good time either way thanks to a bit of inhuman agility. The amount of snow packed on the branches does present some issues in regards to not leaving any tracks or making noise though, as a multi-hundred-kilo gorilla jumping on to a tree has a tendency to knock some of it loose.

The forest appears to continue as far as you can see in all directions, though just beyond the horizon you think you might be able to see a trail of smoke rising into the air, but you'd have to get closer for a clearer look. Another feature to draw your attention is a middle-sized lake maybe five kilometers to your left, surrounded by trees. You can hear bellowing and snarling coming from that direction, and the wind carries along the heft of freshly-spilled blood.

It was the cold that woke him: A gust of wind cut through his red robes like a dagger through the spine, forcing Avdol to rise from his snowy bed. Luckily, his mind returned to him quickly: The same cold pushed the vestiges of confusion away through the primal instinct of survival.

He should be dead.

Mere moments ago, he had shoved Polnareff and Iggy out of the path of that monstrous being that could've only been a Stand, and now... he was here. Had it banished him to this strange place, a prison within it?

Avdol shook his head. It was possible, even likely. But that it could be some other unusual phenomena was equally possible.

Another gale blew through his body, and Avdol clutched his arms. This wouldn't do at all...

"Magician's Red!"

Bidden, the great flaming phoenix emerged from his body and wreathed itself in flame. The temperature around Avdol rose sharply, banishing the cold for the moment.

That issue solved for the time being, he eventually elected to follow the tracks: The far off power plant might serve as shelter if he could not find civilization, but the path left by his fellow humans had a limited time table to be followed.

Click to shrink...

The fire of your stand clears away the cold, droplets of melted snowflakes pattering onto the ice as breeze of warm air makes the temperature almost pleasant for a moment.

A second passes. Two. Three.

Then, you can feel something shifting all around you. Something turning it's attention to you, something old.

An oppressive feeling fills the air, and you can almost taste the malevolence.

A rumbling sound seems to emanate from all directions you as snowflakes circle around you, not entering your sphere of heated air.

Something thumps against the ice below your feet. Once. Twice, stronger this time.

You can hear a cracking noise.

coldcoldcoldcold

Why was it so cold? Oh, that's because she was at some parking lot filled with snow, that's why. Wait... How did she even get here in the first place? Could this be the work of an enemy Stand? Last thing she remembered was stalkingkeeping Senpai safe from all those skanks and floozies out to get him. No way in hell, would Ayano Yanase ever let those whores defiled her Senpai with their skankiness.

But right now, she had no idea wherever this place was beside being a parking lot packed with snow.

Shivering under her coat, arms hugging her sides, she spied the message written in blood. Oh, well that won't do at all. One of those skanks must have been a Stand User and sent her here to get Senpai away from her. That bitch was so asking to be stabbed once she find her way back.

Senpai needed her. She was so going to give the bitch did this to her one hell of a payback. But first thing first..

"Want U Back In Heaven," Ayano muttered in the cold, icy air, her eyes hazy. The doll-like Stand's head peeked up from her head, looking for any clues in the parking lot. She wanted to gather up any clues here before investigating whatever that commotion up in the hill was.

Click to shrink...

Now that you take a proper look, it does appear that there is more information to be gathered than with just a cursory glance.

Near the edge of the parking lot, highlighted in orange you can see signs of struggle in the snow, surrounded by mostly-frozen blood splatters sprinkled in with several spots of some sort of inky, sizzling substance. One of the cars also looks suspiciously like something slammed a human body into it with great force, and the bloody trail of a body having been dragged uphill is unmistakable.

Highlighted in cyan is also a flashlight, sticking halfway out of a nearby snowbank.

 

[Xellos]

As you make your way downstream, you can fairly easily tell something is amiss.

The landscape itself is nothing unusual, just another a river zig-zagging it's way across yet another forest. There are some fallen and bent trees, you'd judge that the place has seen a harsh storm in recent days, but aside from that it's nothing you haven't seen before.

The scenery, that is. Everything else...

First of all, especially considering the snowfall, there are simply too many tracks. Everything from hares to deer to even a wolverine: if that kind of density is natural, then you've never set foot into wilderness before.

Secondly, you've already come under observation by the local spirits. Invisible and intangible or in the form of small animals like squirrels or birds, they seem to poke around the edge of your senses, but any indication that you've noticed them, indeed even so much as twitching in their general direction, invariably sends them fleeing like the hounds of hell were at their heels.

Thirdly, while it's harder to judge as abnormal, the forest is definitely more supernaturally active than one would expect. Not all spirits you encounter seem to be deliberately shadowing you, as far as you can tell some of them just wandered nearby, but they too make a hasty escapes as soon as they notice you. The ambient flows of magic are also considerably higher than just another forest in the middle of nowhere, and you've located several spots where it seems to gather, your guess would be that they're old graves and ancient places of worship, the dwellings of spirits.

Click to shrink...

'...What the hell is going on this place?'

While spirits tended to be able to cross over to the mortal world at will, it was an effort for them; the Nevernever was where they could rest, "eat" and gather their strength, and sticking around usually cost energy. But the concentration of magic here was a fair bit higher than would be usual for a forest(which was saying a lot, given that lively forests tended to be intensely magical already; heavy concentrations of complex life had that effect), and while the boundary between Earth and the Nevernever didn't appear to have collapsed completely in this area, it definitely seemed a bit thin. Easier to cross over. Less strenuous to stay, if you didn't belong here. If he had to guess, he'd say that somebody on this side had helped them; either with just emotions and belief, some level of worship, or even outright magic, he couldn't say yet.

So far, it just seemed that only the weaker ones were hanging around in this area, and they didn't seem to like him very much. Not hostile, but they weren't going to say hello. Given the forms they were taking, they were nature spirits of some kind. Not quite faeries, not quite demons, and not ghosts. Some kind of concept spirit, then? It was hard to tell.

He could either keep following the river, or he could try and investigate one of those dwelling sites more closely, and see precisely how and why all these spiritual entities were hanging around the mortal world instead of in the Nevernever.

...Well. It was never helpful to simply stay in the dark, and he could handle himself if it came down to self-defense. Spirits didn't tend to swarm unless they were insane or demons; they had a sense of self-preservation and aversion to harm. He homed in on one of the gathering spots, one with a middling swell of energy in comparison to its neighbors. If this resulted in hostilities, he'd rather not disrupt or annoy the strongest first.

'Now let's see what's under conflux number one?'

 

[Mina]

Nothing on the thermals except small animals... except... there!

Situated downwind of you, just barely visible past the trees, some sort of large lifeform.

Standing on four legs, it's at least a foot or two taller than you at the shoulder, and much heavier. It looks like a herbivore, but the pair of massive horns adorning it's head, large enough to gore a man with ease, remind that that doesn't necessarily correlate with being harmless. It seems to be content to stand still, watching you from afar.

A quick sweep of the bumps doesn't reveal any thermal signatures, but the magnification does help with identification: based on the track sticking sideways out of the snow, at least one of them appears to be some sort of pimritive vehicle, tipped over on it's side just by the edge of the forest.

Click to shrink...

The cipher agent noted the beast's location and that it certainly wasn't a kath hound, nerf, deer or anything she'd killed before. Keeping an eye on it she began working her way up the road, her magnoculars back in their case and her carbine at the ready. With the wind and its obvious albeit placid interest she was fairly certain she was in the clear. Anything dangerous upwind of her would likely spook it, and anything stalking from downwind would have something meaty to gnaw on. Still, no point taking additional chances.

Her stealth generator hummed softly as it activated, removing her from view with a familiar tingle. Snow won't help things. Still, better than nothing, which was what she seemed to have an abundance of at the moment. No idea on sector or planet, no hint of the local population's biology or eating habits, and no way to contact either the Empire or Ascendancy. The least she could do was check these vehicles for supplies and perhaps make use of the shelter to get a few readings on the stars overhead.

Slowly, and invisible apart from the footprints she left, Klora moved up toward the vehicles to investigate.

 

[samdamandias]

You quickly take to the trees, moving across the forest. The pines aren't ideal for climbing, the canopy being sparse and the branches not always thick enough to support you, but you make good time either way thanks to a bit of inhuman agility. The amount of snow packed on the branches does present some issues in regards to not leaving any tracks or making noise though, as a multi-hundred-kilo gorilla jumping on to a tree has a tendency to knock some of it loose.

The forest appears to continue as far as you can see in all directions, though just beyond the horizon you think you might be able to see a trail of smoke rising into the air, but you'd have to get closer for a clearer look. Another feature to draw your attention is a middle-sized lake maybe five kilometers to your left, surrounded by trees. You can hear bellowing and snarling coming from that direction, and the wind carries along the heft of freshly-spilled blood.

Click to shrink...

Smoke might mean people. On the other hand, a lake and a fight...

It would be hard to make it over the horizon (which was weird) in this biting cold. On the lake, he could sail his boat, which would at least be warm for the coming night. He can smell the blood, and it sets his own ichor pounding. Blood Apes were made to fight, and even if he is a little more restrained than his brethren, Jurdin does not think of anything that he would lose by heading towards this fight. Not much to gain either, but a good fight is something worth having in and of itself.

Lakes were never in deep wilderness. They always drew people and spirits, even if many of the northern lakes were abandoned during the coldest parts of of the year. Between shelter, sailing and bloodshed, the lake was the better choice for now. Jurdin turns towards the lake and sets off, caring less about the snow that he knocks off of the trees.

 

[Ψυχή]

The house is almost eerie as you step in, quiet as a cemetery. You can see no sign of occupants, and the light screen of frost covering the floor tells you that they've been gone for a while.

It's not much warmer, but at least you're safe from the wind.

It's a decently sized middle-class apartment, with rooms arranged in a circular pattern around a central fireplace. Starting from the vestibule you arrived from, there are two bedrooms, a workroom with a computer, living room arranged around a television, master bedroom, bathroom connected to a sauna and finally a kitchen.

Water and electricity are cut off, and powering up either the TV or the PC results in the same: no signal found. Even the radio-controlled clock has stopped.

There's food in the kitchen, but that find is a touch mitigated by the fact that you aren't sure how much of it is spoiled, though there is enough canned pineapple and tuna to last you a day, two if you're careful. If you can get drinkable water.

The sauna would likely be the best place to spend the night since it's the most centrally located room and the only one without windows, but you are unable to locate any firewood in the house, and a fallen branch seems to have smashed the kitchen windows, compromising the insulation.

Click to shrink...

"No signal, huh... That's—" Catching herself from delving deeper into that particular train of thought once more, Worst turned away from the computer and its files. "No... Don't get caught on that. Misaka has to secure a place for the night first; existential crisis later."

Clearly it was workable solution, but with the state of kitchen and the coming darkness a snow-cave with the supplies here was still a better option. Climbing out the hole in the kitchen to the roof, Worst looked about to see if any of the nearby houses looked any more put-together. That or this 'Egyptian' that's out here. Or anyone, really...

 

[God and the Snake]

The fire of your stand clears away the cold, droplets of melted snowflakes pattering onto the ice as breeze of warm air makes the temperature almost pleasant for a moment.

A second passes. Two. Three.

Then, you can feel something shifting all around you. Something turning it's attention to you, something old.

An oppressive feeling fills the air, and you can almost taste the malevolence.

A rumbling sound seems to emanate from all directions you as snowflakes circle around you, not entering your sphere of heated air.

Something thumps against the ice below your feet. Once. Twice, stronger this time.

You can hear a cracking noise.

Click to shrink...

At that moment, Avdol felt something he'd only experienced once before in a narrow Egyptian stairwell.

The undeniable energy of pure evil.

The fires of Magician's Red dimmed to a manageable heat, and the great phoenix barreled into the Cairo native, scooping him up in it's arms then shooting towards the shore along the path of the tracks: Something this powerful couldn't be confronted on a razor sheen of ice, particularly not with his abilities.

 

[Khawy]

Now that you take a proper look, it does appear that there is more information to be gathered than with just a cursory glance.

Near the edge of the parking lot, highlighted in orange you can see signs of struggle in the snow, surrounded by mostly-frozen blood splatters sprinkled in with several spots of some sort of inky, sizzling substance. One of the cars also looks suspiciously like something slammed a human body into it with great force, and the bloody trail of a body having been dragged uphill is unmistakable.

Highlighted in cyan is also a flashlight, sticking halfway out of a nearby snowbank.

Click to shrink...

Oh, this was interesting. Looks like whatever was causing the commotion nearby was definitely dangerous. Stiffly walking through the snow, Ayano made her way towards the flashlight. Better than nothing, she supposed.

It might come in handy for the night.

Flashlight held in hand, not flipped on just yet, she carefully stumbled to where the nearby ruckus was. Of course, she can't just go there with nothing in hand. That would be rather foolish, considering the violent struggle that had transpired here. Idly, she had one of the arm of her Stand poking behind her back, readied to form a knife and....get rid of anything that might obstruct her.

 

[Blackout]

'...What the hell is going on this place?'

While spirits tended to be able to cross over to the mortal world at will, it was an effort for them; the Nevernever was where they could rest, "eat" and gather their strength, and sticking around usually cost energy. But the concentration of magic here was a fair bit higher than would be usual for a forest(which was saying a lot, given that lively forests tended to be intensely magical already; heavy concentrations of complex life had that effect), and while the boundary between Earth and the Nevernever didn't appear to have collapsed completely in this area, it definitely seemed a bit thin. Easier to cross over. Less strenuous to stay, if you didn't belong here. If he had to guess, he'd say that somebody on this side had helped them; either with just emotions and belief, some level of worship, or even outright magic, he couldn't say yet.

So far, it just seemed that only the weaker ones were hanging around in this area, and they didn't seem to like him very much. Not hostile, but they weren't going to say hello. Given the forms they were taking, they were nature spirits of some kind. Not quite faeries, not quite demons, and not ghosts. Some kind of concept spirit, then? It was hard to tell.

He could either keep following the river, or he could try and investigate one of those dwelling sites more closely, and see precisely how and why all these spiritual entities were hanging around the mortal world instead of in the Nevernever.

...Well. It was never helpful to simply stay in the dark, and he could handle himself if it came down to self-defense. Spirits didn't tend to swarm unless they were insane or demons; they had a sense of self-preservation and aversion to harm. He homed in on one of the gathering spots, one with a middling swell of energy in comparison to its neighbors. If this resulted in hostilities, he'd rather not disrupt or annoy the strongest first.

'Now let's see what's under conflux number one?'

Click to shrink...

Taking a detour from the river, you make a mile or two into the forest, approaching one of the middling spirit dwellings. It looks to be an impressively massive pine tree, standing at the side of a modest hill, with the nexus of power located somewhere underneath, amongst the massive tangle of exposed roots unearthed by some natural disaster or the other.

Chosen at random amongst the spots that could be described as "middle of the road" in terms of power, it doesn't appear to be shielded against intruders. Not that a spirit of that power would have been able to drive you away with wards alone, but it's generally more conductive to a civilized discussion to not have to knock down the front door. It is, of course, hidden from mundane senses by magic, potent enough to turn away hikers and wilderness enthusiasts but posing little challenge to a determined skinchanger.

More interestingly it appears to be that whoever owns the spiritual 'oasis' opted to focus his efforts on concealing his nature, rather than anything else. No smell, no magical imprint, not even tracks in the snow. Not all of the others had anything you could identify their owners by, but the most of the more potent ones did (For an example one of them, easily the single most powerful in the forest, smelled so blatantly of bear it had to be a deliberate emphasis, either as a deception or a declaration of strength.), and this was the only one you could sense to be deliberately concealing it's nature.

However, all that is thrown wayside when the master of the dwelling makes his appearance, bursting from the snow in a tangle of brown fur, stubby but powerful body and large claws.

Yep, it's a wolverine if you've ever seen one.

Teeth bared in a snarl, it stops just outside of pouncing range, blatantly radiating pure hostility in both physical posture and magical senses.

"What do you want from me, demon?"

The spirit speaks through barely controlled anger, but you can sense an undercurrent of fear and desperation.

The cipher agent noted the beast's location and that it certainly wasn't a kath hound, nerf, deer or anything she'd killed before. Keeping an eye on it she began working her way up the road, her magnoculars back in their case and her carbine at the ready. With the wind and its obvious albeit placid interest she was fairly certain she was in the clear. Anything dangerous upwind of her would likely spook it, and anything stalking from downwind would have something meaty to gnaw on. Still, no point taking additional chances.

Her stealth generator hummed softly as it activated, removing her from view with a familiar tingle. Snow won't help things. Still, better than nothing, which was what she seemed to have an abundance of at the moment. No idea on sector or planet, no hint of the local population's biology or eating habits, and no way to contact either the Empire or Ascendancy. The least she could do was check these vehicles for supplies and perhaps make use of the shelter to get a few readings on the stars overhead.

Slowly, and invisible apart from the footprints she left, Klora moved up toward the vehicles to investigate.

Click to shrink...

Nothing interrupts you as you make your way down the road, though you can't seem to throw off the feeling of being watched. Aside from the wind and the snow crunching under your feet, the forest is quiet and still.

Soon enough you reach the bumps, and your observation of them being primitive tracked vehicles is soon validated; probably of military origin, if the heavy projectile weapon lying on the ground is any indication, seemingly having been torn off it's mounting.

It rapidly becomes apparent that you are at the site of a battle: doors ripped off of their hinges, clawmarks embedded in metal, windshields caved in, spent casings littering the ground, and that's just to name a few of the signs. There are four vehicles in total, with enough room to transport a full platoon between them: you find rations and bottled water, but no sign of the occupants.

A scrap of green cloth here, a mangled helmet there, several bent projectile weapons, but not even a drop of blood or a hint of a corpse. None of the vehicles are in a drive-worthy condition, but you do find some odds and ends of varying usefulness: a lighter, sleeping bags, several fireaxes and shovels as well as a single functioning weapon: a primitive projectile pistol.

Finally, checking the last bump you notice light reflecting off of something in the snow, and find a small metal plate attached to a chain one might fit around a man's neck, adorned with the icon of a tower and a seemingly random series of numbers and letters.

Smoke might mean people. On the other hand, a lake and a fight...

It would be hard to make it over the horizon (which was weird) in this biting cold. On the lake, he could sail his boat, which would at least be warm for the coming night. He can smell the blood, and it sets his own ichor pounding. Blood Apes were made to fight, and even if he is a little more restrained than his brethren, Jurdin does not think of anything that he would lose by heading towards this fight. Not much to gain either, but a good fight is something worth having in and of itself.

Lakes were never in deep wilderness. They always drew people and spirits, even if many of the northern lakes were abandoned during the coldest parts of of the year. Between shelter, sailing and bloodshed, the lake was the better choice for now. Jurdin turns towards the lake and sets off, caring less about the snow that he knocks off of the trees.

Click to shrink...

Mere moments after setting off, you can tell that whatever the commotion is, it's coming your way.

Then, you see it.

A large brown shape emerging from between the trees, a bull moose any hunter would be proud of barreling through the snow like the hounds of hell were on the chase.

Which, to be fair, they are.

Five pitch-black wolves, running in pursuit, except they're not quite like any wolves you had ever seen. It's not much, but they're just... off, distorted.

Heavy-set and maybe half again the size of the biggest ones you'd seen, but that alone might be explainable. The mismatched proportions, too-large head and teeth, oversized claws, jaws set in what appears to be a permanent snarl and the gleaming yellow eyes... not so much.

One of them is dripping blood from its mouth, corresponding to an ugly wound torn into their prey's side.

It's fairly apparent that the moose is getting tired, and the pack is closing in for the kill.

"No signal, huh... That's—" Catching herself from delving deeper into that particular train of thought once more, Worst turned away from the computer and its files. "No... Don't get caught on that. Misaka has to secure a place for the night first; existential crisis later."

Clearly it was workable solution, but with the state of kitchen and the coming darkness a snow-cave with the supplies here was still a better option. Climbing out the hole in the kitchen to the roof, Worst looked about to see if any of the nearby houses looked any more put-together. That or this 'Egyptian' that's out here. Or anyone, really...

Click to shrink...

The scene that opens before you is rather bleak: a preposterous amount of trees and small forests sprinkled here and there mean your line of sight is limited, but your immediate neighourhood is, well, devastated.

Fallen trees and street lights, debris littering everywhere, several houses appear to have burned down... you wouldn't say your house is well-off, but it's definitely not among the ones hit hardest. It's probably too early to rule out the possibility of finding a more intact housing just yet, but it would ina ll likelyhood take time.

Before you can dwell on that, however, you hear a heavy, booming voice coming from behind you, beyond the forest at the back of the house. From your vantage point you can tell that it's not more than five hundred meters across at the most, but it's five hundred meters in knee-deep-and-above snow; there might be other ways around, but detours would take time.

At that moment, Avdol felt something he'd only experienced once before in a narrow Egyptian stairwell.

The undeniable energy of pure evil.

The fires of Magician's Red dimmed to a manageable heat, and the great phoenix barreled into the Cairo native, scooping him up in it's arms then shooting towards the shore along the path of the tracks: Something this powerful couldn't be confronted on a razor sheen of ice, particularly not with his abilities.

Click to shrink...

For a split-second, it ceases.

There is only you, the fire, and the snow.

Then, halfway to the shore, without warning the lake's surface literally explodes upwards in a shower of ice, snow and freezing-cold water.

There are... few words for what emerges, but "abomination" might not be too far from the mark.

It's at least the size of a bus, and that's just above the ice, beyond that it's impossible to get a clear picture: there are only glimpses of massive, snapping jaws, clawed appendages trashing in the water, and pallid, milk-white flesh.

Rows upon rows of serrated teeth clamp shut, missing you by inches, and for a heartbeat it seems as if you are in the clear. Then, something thick and cold wraps around your leg, seeping away the comforting heat even as barbs dig into your flesh, seeking to drag you down to a dark and watery death.

Oh, this was interesting. Looks like whatever was causing the commotion nearby was definitely dangerous. Stiffly walking through the snow, Ayano made her way towards the flashlight. Better than nothing, she supposed.

It might come in handy for the night.

Flashlight held in hand, not flipped on just yet, she carefully stumbled to where the nearby ruckus was. Of course, she can't just go there with nothing in hand. That would be rather foolish, considering the violent struggle that had transpired here. Idly, she had one of the arm of her Stand poking behind her back, readied to form a knife and....get rid of anything that might obstruct her.

Click to shrink...

Getting out of the parking lot, the trail follows a forest road uphill, lined with street lamps. After a few moments of trenching through snow you find the source of the common: a large building at the top of the hill.

It's... to put it bluntly, ugly as sin: essentially a giant, grey concrete block with windows.

There's a big sign in a language you don't recognize, but the big red cross on white background plastered across the wall makes it's function quite clear. More interestingly, unlike several surrounding warehouses and other buildings of unknown purpose, it has power, as evidence by yellow light escaping from the aforementioned windows and the glass doors of the lobby.

The indeterminate sounds continue to emanate from the building, still muffled but clear enough that you can make out some sort of inhuman screeching mixed in.

And if you concentrate hard enough you're also able to hear very human screaming.

 

[Ψυχή]

The scene that opens before you is rather bleak: a preposterous amount of trees and small forests sprinkled here and there mean your line of sight is limited, but your immediate neighborhood is, well, devastated.

Fallen trees and street lights, debris littering everywhere, several houses appear to have burned down... you wouldn't say your house is well-off, but it's definitely not among the ones hit hardest. It's probably too early to rule out the possibility of finding a more intact housing just yet, but it would in all likelihood take time.

Before you can dwell on that, however, you hear a heavy, booming voice coming from behind you, beyond the forest at the back of the house. From your vantage point you can tell that it's not more than five hundred meters across at the most, but it's five hundred meters in knee-deep-and-above snow; there might be other ways around, but detours would take time.

Click to shrink...

Good thing Espers' own powers don't ruin their own clothes and wares, or else getting over there would be far more risky. First, though, Misaka should avoid damaging the place—snow-caves remain an option, but there's no need to force the issue.

Leaping high into the air, Worst was suddenly propelled even higher from a large explosion, and made haste above the tree line with similar impacts towards the voice. No need for detouring now except up and down. Let's see what's going on then.

 

[Xellos]

Taking a detour from the river, you make a mile or two into the forest, approaching one of the middling spirit dwellings. It looks to be an impressively massive pine tree, standing at the side of a modest hill, with the nexus of power located somewhere underneath, amongst the massive tangle of exposed roots unearthed by some natural disaster or the other.

Chosen at random amongst the spots that could be described as "middle of the road" in terms of power, it doesn't appear to be shielded against intruders. Not that a spirit of that power would have been able to drive you away with wards alone, but it's generally more conductive to a civilized discussion to not have to knock down the front door. It is, of course, hidden from mundane senses by magic, potent enough to turn away hikers and wilderness enthusiasts but posing little challenge to a determined skinchanger.

More interestingly it appears to be that whoever owns the spiritual 'oasis' opted to focus his efforts on concealing his nature, rather than anything else. No smell, no magical imprint, not even tracks in the snow. Not all of the others had anything you could identify their owners by, but the most of the more potent ones did (For an example one of them, easily the single most powerful in the forest, smelled so blatantly of bear it had to be a deliberate emphasis, either as a deception or a declaration of strength.), and this was the only one you could sense to be deliberately concealing it's nature.

Click to shrink...

'Hm. And what do you have to hide?' he wondered, since this one was so different from the rest. Was it hiding its nature to put on a bold front, or to conceal its strength and avoid rivals? Or perhaps it was only attempting to put up a front of the wrong 'affinity', thereby ensuring most that came for it would target the wrong weakness. He couldn't really be certain until later, but...

However, all that is thrown wayside when the master of the dwelling makes his appearance, bursting from the snow in a tangle of brown fur, stubby but powerful body and large claws.

Yep, it's a wolverine if you've ever seen one.

Teeth bared in a snarl, it stops just outside of pouncing range, blatantly radiating pure hostility in both physical posture and magical senses.

"What do you want from me, demon?"

The spirit speaks through barely controlled anger, but you can sense an undercurrent of fear and desperation.

Click to shrink...

'Well, that's helpful already.'

The mere reveal of the species whose form it took gave him a fair bit of information. Unless the spirit was using a face completely unrelated to its location, that narrowed it down to a few countries in the Northern Hemisphere; Canada, Finland, Norway, Russia, Sweden, and the United States were the only areas that wolverines were native to. While it was possible that the spirit was portraying a role that wasn't native, that wasn't usually done when you were just using a form.

In addition to that, it considered him to be a demon of some sort. Not exactly accurate no matter how you looked at things. For one thing, he had a soul. But perhaps this spirit was seeing deep, but not quite deep enough. He saw that Grey was unnatural and very different, but not the precise way.

And it was trying to hide its fear behind a veil of rage. Perhaps not truly a wolverine, but a weasel? It would make sense, given its attempt at hiding its nature, but it wouldn't do to assume. He decided to be calm and confident, as he shifted slightly to better accommodate speech.

"I want information." he replied, on guard, but not making threatening moves. He was willing to fight the spirit if that's what it took, but he would rather avoid that. "Answer a few questions, and I'll leave you be. Is that acceptable?"

 

[samdamandias]

Mere moments after setting off, you can tell that whatever the commotion is, it's coming your way.

Then, you see it.

A large brown shape emerging from between the trees, a bull moose any hunter would be proud of barreling through the snow like the hounds of hell were on the chase.

Which, to be fair, they are.

Five pitch-black wolves, running in pursuit, except they're not quite like any wolves you had ever seen. It's not much, but they're just... off, distorted.

Heavy-set and maybe half again the size of the biggest ones you'd seen, but that alone might be explainable. The mismatched proportions, too-large head and teeth, oversized claws, jaws set in what appears to be a permanent snarl and the gleaming yellow eyes... not so much.

One of them is dripping blood from its mouth, corresponding to an ugly wound torn into their prey's side.

It's fairly apparent that the moose is getting tired, and the pack is closing in for the kill.

Click to shrink...

Jurdin smiles, a rictus of fangs and tusks. Those wolves though, perhaps they were Wyld-touched? Or worse, faeries. In which case, both Chariot's standing orders and his own nature required him to fight. To unmake and devour the Wyld-things. They did not match the description of any spirit he knew of. Either way, that elk has done well. Out of respect for a fellow fighter, he won't kill it. Yet.

A set of mental exercises leaves him in the proper mindset to use the Art of Forceful Declaration. Almost soundlessly he leaps from the tree, angling towards one of the Wyld-wolves. He spreads his limbs wide, the wicked claws already open and grasping for something to rend. On landing, he digs his claws into the fur, reaching for flesh, and roars loud and true. They go tumbling, blood-stained snow flying as both scramble for and advantageous positon.

Again he roars, but this time battle-banter in Old Realm spills out, punctuated as he attempts to bite the wyld-wolf. "FIGHT ME! I WILL FILL MY BELLY WITH YOUR BLOOD! I WILL CRACK YOUR MISERABLE EXCUSES FOR BONES AND SUCK OUT THE MARROW! BRING IT YOU STUPID SONSOFBITCHES, I HAVEN'T GOT ALL DAY!"

 

[God and the Snake]

For a split-second, it ceases.

There is only you, the fire, and the snow.

Then, halfway to the shore, without warning the lake's surface literally explodes upwards in a shower of ice, snow and freezing-cold water.

There are... few words for what emerges, but "abomination" might not be too far from the mark.

It's at least the size of a bus, and that's just above the ice, beyond that it's impossible to get a clear picture: there are only glimpses of massive, snapping jaws, clawed appendages trashing in the water, and pallid, milk-white flesh.

Rows upon rows of serrated teeth clamp shut, missing you by inches, and for a heartbeat it seems as if you are in the clear. Then, something thick and cold wraps around your leg, seeping away the comforting heat even as barbs dig into your flesh, seeking to drag you down to a dark and watery death.

Click to shrink...

A creature so horrid that it defied words burrowed its way into Avdol's flesh, and he roared in pain. His leg felt as if a dozen fish hooks had been shoved against the bone, and in the instant he felt an unnatural chill seeping beneath his skin, he knew that this creature could not be of this Earth. But whether or not it was some demon or Stand did not matter: He needed to get it off of him.

"Crossfire Hurricane!"

A gout of flame shot out of Magician's Red, forming a burning ankh of large proportions. The instant it formed, it disassembled: it's bar broke off into two pieces and rocketed towards the tendril holding him, while its central shaft and circle blasted it's way towards the beast's gnashing jaw.

 

[Khawy]

Getting out of the parking lot, the trail follows a forest road uphill, lined with street lamps. After a few moments of trenching through snow you find the source of the common: a large building at the top of the hill.

It's... to put it bluntly, ugly as sin: essentially a giant, grey concrete block with windows.

There's a big sign in a language you don't recognize, but the big red cross on white background plastered across the wall makes it's function quite clear. More interestingly, unlike several surrounding warehouses and other buildings of unknown purpose, it has power, as evidence by yellow light escaping from the aforementioned windows and the glass doors of the lobby.

The indeterminate sounds continue to emanate from the building, still muffled but clear enough that you can make out some sort of inhuman screeching mixed in.

And if you concentrate hard enough you're also able to hear very human screaming.

Click to shrink...

Hmmmm... A hospital, eh? All alone, strange sounds churning within the depth of its lair, the dark and dangerous atmosphere exuding all over the place, this really seems like something coming out of a B Rated Horror Movie. What's next? Faceless, nightmarish nurses with giant needles and scalpels stalking the dimly lit hallways?

Ah, even the disturbing screaming was hitting that note.

Well, better to be safe than sorry, even if this was a little bit cheesy. Muttering her Stand's name under breath, Ayano's guardian spirit poked its head out and looked for anything that could be useful. And with one arm, it formed a black, combat knife in its hand. Holding on tight to her flashlight, Ayano breathed in deeply to mentally prepare herself for upcoming ordeal.

 

[Mina]

Nothing interrupts you as you make your way down the road, though you can't seem to throw off the feeling of being watched. Aside from the wind and the snow crunching under your feet, the forest is quiet and still.

Soon enough you reach the bumps, and your observation of them being primitive tracked vehicles is soon validated; probably of military origin, if the heavy projectile weapon lying on the ground is any indication, seemingly having been torn off it's mounting.

It rapidly becomes apparent that you are at the site of a battle: doors ripped off of their hinges, clawmarks embedded in metal, windshields caved in, spent casings littering the ground, and that's just to name a few of the signs. There are four vehicles in total, with enough room to transport a full platoon between them: you find rations and bottled water, but no sign of the occupants.

A scrap of green cloth here, a mangled helmet there, several bent projectile weapons, but not even a drop of blood or a hint of a corpse. None of the vehicles are in a drive-worthy condition, but you do find some odds and ends of varying usefulness: a lighter, sleeping bags, several fireaxes and shovels as well as a single functioning weapon: a primitive projectile pistol.

Finally, checking the last bump you notice light reflecting off of something in the snow, and find a small metal plate attached to a chain one might fit around a man's neck, adorned with the icon of a tower and a seemingly random series of numbers and letters.

Click to shrink...

Silence followed her. Climbing nimbly over the wrecked vehicles she checked her shoulder for the watchful beast from earlier, perhaps scenting her? The feeling of being watched was a familiar one to the agent, but this felt different, wrong. The wreckage inspired no confidence either. Even the most fastidious of elimination teams or ravenous of beasts couldn't have done something like this without leaving a single trace of the targets behind, and Jedi had no stomach for that sort of work. It was Sith...or something darker...

Memories of Voss and Oricon made the chill seeping through her cold-weather gear feel all the more oppressive as she looted. Potable water was most valuable, melting and purifying snow would put her on the thermals of anything in the vicinity and she had no desire to meet whatever massacred this convoy. She grabbed the slug thrower as well, slipping it in to her belt as she examined the chained plate more carefully. Likely an ID chip of some sort, it was too small for much else and based on the pathetic level of the tech she had seen thus far stamped metal was par for the course.

Star sightings would have to wait. Hanging around in these metal graves just to determine her relative position on a planet she knew nothing about apart from the presence of terrible, terrible creatures was not Klora's idea of a good time. Taking one more glance back down the way she'd come to see if the beast still watched, she started up the road in the direction the vehicles seemed to have been coming from. She'd set out to infiltrate a base today, maybe she'd still get the chance.

 

[Blackout]

'Well, that's helpful already.'

The mere reveal of the species whose form it took gave him a fair bit of information. Unless the spirit was using a face completely unrelated to its location, that narrowed it down to a few countries in the Northern Hemisphere; Canada, Finland, Norway, Russia, Sweden, and the United States were the only areas that wolverines were native to. While it was possible that the spirit was portraying a role that wasn't native, that wasn't usually done when you were just using a form.

In addition to that, it considered him to be a demon of some sort. Not exactly accurate no matter how you looked at things. For one thing, he had a soul. But perhaps this spirit was seeing deep, but not quite deep enough. He saw that Grey was unnatural and very different, but not the precise way.

And it was trying to hide its fear behind a veil of rage. Perhaps not truly a wolverine, but a weasel? It would make sense, given its attempt at hiding its nature, but it wouldn't do to assume. He decided to be calm and confident, as he shifted slightly to better accommodate speech.

"I want information." he replied, on guard, but not making threatening moves. He was willing to fight the spirit if that's what it took, but he would rather avoid that. "Answer a few questions, and I'll leave you be. Is that acceptable?"

Click to shrink...

The spirit moves restlessly, pacing in place, but stops the instant you change your form, even slightly, and looks at you.

"Skinchanger. Of course, why not?"

Exasperation. Not as hostile as before, but that's not the same thing as an absence of it.

"Of all the- And not from around here either?"

Getting a good look at the wolverine, you can see that it is no stranger to battle. Deep bite wounds in the left foreleg, clawmarks running across the muzzle, and more. Otherwise it appears as mundane, if large, specimen to your physical senses. Mystically, it's a fairly potent spirit, but even that runs the possibility of being a deception, and anything else is expertly hidden.

"No, stupid question. Of course not, the skin alone is proof enough. Let me guess, where you're from the wolf is a noble beast and respected hunter?"

Steaming spit lands on the snow.

Good thing Espers' own powers don't ruin their own clothes and wares, or else getting over there would be far more risky. First, though, Misaka should avoid damaging the place—snow-caves remain an option, but there's no need to force the issue.

Leaping high into the air, Worst was suddenly propelled even higher from a large explosion, and made haste above the tree line with similar impacts towards the voice. No need for detouring now except up and down. Let's see what's going on then.

Click to shrink...

As you rocket over the treetops, the source of the noise becomes rapidly apparent to be a lake, frozen and surrounded by mounds of earth.

The scene that it presents to you, well:

A creature so horrid that it defied words burrowed its way into Avdol's flesh, and he roared in pain. His leg felt as if a dozen fish hooks had been shoved against the bone, and in the instant he felt an unnatural chill seeping beneath his skin, he knew that this creature could not be of this Earth. But whether or not it was some demon or Stand did not matter: He needed to get it off of him.

"Crossfire Hurricane!"

A gout of flame shot out of Magician's Red, forming a burning ankh of large proportions. The instant it formed, it disassembled: it's bar broke off into two pieces and rocketed towards the tendril holding him, while its central shaft and circle blasted it's way towards the beast's gnashing jaw.

Click to shrink...

Fire is ever the antithesis of water, but water is also the opposite and counter of fire, as proven when gouts of fire slam into the icy water that seems to sap it's very strength greedily, absorbing the flames before they can reach it's dark master. But, even where magic runs wild and spirits dwell, some laws still apply.

Water becomes steam, and a great, scalding-hot cloud can be as damaging as any firebolt. A roar reverberates through the lake as the beast trashes, the tentacle slamming you hard onto the ice before the fire manages to burn through it, the severed tendril still stuck to your leg.

But there is little time to be wasted. A momentary pain is not enough to drive away evil such as this: even as the creatures retreats underneath the surface for the moment, you can feel rather than hear the malevolent curse being uttered that turns the surrounding elements against you. The ice itself comes alife to attack you, forming into jagged spikes that rise all around you like a twisted beartrap, while the wind seems to be a physical force pressing you down, even as the beast is surely maneuvering around for another strike.

Jurdin smiles, a rictus of fangs and tusks. Those wolves though, perhaps they were Wyld-touched? Or worse, faeries. In which case, both Chariot's standing orders and his own nature required him to fight. To unmake and devour the Wyld-things. They did not match the description of any spirit he knew of. Either way, that elk has done well. Out of respect for a fellow fighter, he won't kill it. Yet.

A set of mental exercises leaves him in the proper mindset to use the Art of Forceful Declaration. Almost soundlessly he leaps from the tree, angling towards one of the Wyld-wolves. He spreads his limbs wide, the wicked claws already open and grasping for something to rend. On landing, he digs his claws into the fur, reaching for flesh, and roars loud and true. They go tumbling, blood-stained snow flying as both scramble for and advantageous positon.

Again he roars, but this time battle-banter in Old Realm spills out, punctuated as he attempts to bite the wyld-wolf. "FIGHT ME! I WILL FILL MY BELLY WITH YOUR BLOOD! I WILL CRACK YOUR MISERABLE EXCUSES FOR BONES AND SUCK OUT THE MARROW! BRING IT YOU STUPID SONSOFBITCHES, I HAVEN'T GOT ALL DAY!"

Click to shrink...

The unnatural wolf yelps in surprise and pain but rolls with the blow, claws raking across your chest, but you are stronger than it is, and by far the better grappler. Snow is sent flying and blood is spilt, but you are giving it worse than you are taking, and you hold the advantage... until another wolf slams at your back, forcing you away from your first victim.

As powerful jaws clamp onto your shoulder, biting deep into the flesh, you belatedly notice that this must be the Alpha of the pack; it is certainly the biggest, and seemed to be leading the hunt earlier.

And yet, you also notice that the remaining three are circling around you, teeth bared and ready to strike, but not joining the fight yet.

Hmmmm... A hospital, eh? All alone, strange sounds churning within the depth of its lair, the dark and dangerous atmosphere exuding all over the place, this really seems like something coming out of a B Rated Horror Movie. What's next? Faceless, nightmarish nurses with giant needles and scalpels stalking the dimly lit hallways?

Ah, even the disturbing screaming was hitting that note.

Well, better to be safe than sorry, even if this was a little bit cheesy. Muttering her Stand's name under breath, Ayano's guardian spirit poked its head out and looked for anything that could be useful. And with one arm, it formed a black, combat knife in its hand. Holding on tight to her flashlight, Ayano breathed in deeply to mentally prepare herself for upcoming ordeal.

Click to shrink...

The trail continues inside, past an eerily silent lobby before ending in a pool of blood, probably a few hours old. Bloody footprints lead through one door at your left, which seems to have been smashed open, revealing a scene of carnage: furniture has been tossed around and broken, debris litters the floor and deep clawmarks adorn the area.

However, the commotion seems to be coming from the direction of a large, open hallway to the right, showing what looks like a cafeteria and flower shop set on one side along with a number of doors leading deeper into the building, opposite of a glass wall showing the last stray rays of sunlight from the outside.

As the sound gets closer, something throws open one of the doorways, a shape bursting out at a dead run. It is a boy maybe a year or two your junior, sandy brown hair stained with blood, numerous bleeding wounds and scrapes adorning his frame. He doesn't seem to notice you, and immediately afterwards the door is very nearly torn off it's hinges a three... creatures crash into the hallway.

Their bodies are vaguely humanoid, maybe three meters at height if standing upright, but their hunched stances and constant movements make judging it a difficult proposition. They are spindly creatures with a grey, furless flesh seemingly stretched over a skeleton with disproportionately long and thin limbs ending in sharp-clawed hands and feet reminiscient of some kind of mutated bird of prey. Skeletal wings stretch from their shoulders, and a long tail whips about, tipped by a small, hairy tuft. The head seems to be from some kind of predatory animal, but it's hard to tell with the same gray skin pulled taut over the skull, while deer antlers adorn the sides of the head and long, forked tongue slips in and out, tasting the air.

They are clearly toying with the boy, their twitchy, loping gait easily capable of catching up to him should they so choose, as they repeatedly demonstrate. But instead of finishing it, instead nipping at his heels, hissing and spitting at him, startling and slowly bleeding their prey out with small cuts here and there, content to let him run himself ragged.

And yet, the chase is coming to an end: he's clearly tired to the bone, only just keeping upright and barely even responds to the predators. Suddenly, one of the creatures casually grabs a chair from the cafeteria as it passes by with strength something so thin and spindly shouldn't possess, tossing it at the boy. It merely clips him, but it is enough: he staggers, before collapsing to against the side wall.

But before they can finish him, one of the creatures turns towards you, and hisses, as whole pack turn their attention to you.

Teethed smirks fill the hallway.

Silence followed her. Climbing nimbly over the wrecked vehicles she checked her shoulder for the watchful beast from earlier, perhaps scenting her? The feeling of being watched was a familiar one to the agent, but this felt different, wrong. The wreckage inspired no confidence either. Even the most fastidious of elimination teams or ravenous of beasts couldn't have done something like this without leaving a single trace of the targets behind, and Jedi had no stomach for that sort of work. It was Sith...or something darker...

Memories of Voss and Oricon made the chill seeping through her cold-weather gear feel all the more oppressive as she looted. Potable water was most valuable, melting and purifying snow would put her on the thermals of anything in the vicinity and she had no desire to meet whatever massacred this convoy. She grabbed the slug thrower as well, slipping it in to her belt as she examined the chained plate more carefully. Likely an ID chip of some sort, it was too small for much else and based on the pathetic level of the tech she had seen thus far stamped metal was par for the course.

Star sightings would have to wait. Hanging around in these metal graves just to determine her relative position on a planet she knew nothing about apart from the presence of terrible, terrible creatures was not Klora's idea of a good time. Taking one more glance back down the way she'd come to see if the beast still watched, she started up the road in the direction the vehicles seemed to have been coming from. She'd set out to infiltrate a base today, maybe she'd still get the chance.

Click to shrink...

The feeling of being watched persists even as you trek through the snow, but nothing presents itself to your senses. The forest road is cold and dark, and the wind only seems to be picking up, bringing with it a torrent of snow that cuts down on visibility after you're travelled no more than two or three miles.

A sweep of your scanner, however, reveals something even more foreboding: you are alone. No thermal signs as far as the range goes, no small animals or even the slightest movement.

Then, as you lower your magnoculars, you notice something odd on the road, a dark shape standing in the middle of the road. A moment to focus, and you can make out a quadrupedal body, large horns... it's the creature from before.

Except it didn't show up on thermal.

 

[Xellos]

The spirit moves restlessly, pacing in place, but stops the instant you change your form, even slightly, and looks at you.

"Skinchanger. Of course, why not?"

Exasperation. Not as hostile as before, but that's not the same thing as an absence of it.

"Of all the- And not from around here either?"

Getting a good look at the wolverine, you can see that it is no stranger to battle. Deep bite wounds in the left foreleg, clawmarks running across the muzzle, and more. Otherwise it appears as mundane, if large, specimen to your physical senses. Mystically, it's a fairly potent spirit, but even that runs the possibility of being a deception, and anything else is expertly hidden.

"No, stupid question. Of course not, the skin alone is proof enough. Let me guess, where you're from the wolf is a noble beast and respected hunter?"

Steaming spit lands on the snow.

Click to shrink...

'...I may have made a mistake.'

In light of this, a cougar would probably have been the better choice of form to take. More mass, still good for cold weather like this, but not likely to have the now obvious stigma against it. Fortunately, he had already learned something from this. The area was regularly attacked, most likely by wolf-demons, and was likely to be somewhere in the Indo-European sections of the mortal world, since those were the primary areas where the wolf was considered to simply be evil. Possibly Germany, the Baltic states, Finland, or possibly just a place of the White God.

However, it was a neutral force where he was from... unless, of course, a man or monster had taken on its form in place of their own. Then it was evil. It would be best not to mention that.

'And here I was, worried that he that he thought me a demon because he had seen the truth of the matter, and not the outer shell.'

"...Well, yes. Somewhat. I'll change, if you would like." he replied. "Where am I now, exactly?"

 

[Ψυχή]

As you rocket over the treetops, the source of the noise becomes rapidly apparent to be a lake, frozen and surrounded by mounds of earth.

The scene that it presents to you, well:

A creature so horrid that it defied words burrowed its way into Avdol's flesh, and he roared in pain. His leg felt as if a dozen fish hooks had been shoved against the bone, and in the instant he felt an unnatural chill seeping beneath his skin, he knew that this creature could not be of this Earth. But whether or not it was some demon or Stand did not matter: He needed to get it off of him.

"Crossfire Hurricane!"

A gout of flame shot out of Magician's Red, forming a burning ankh of large proportions. The instant it formed, it disassembled: it's bar broke off into two pieces and rocketed towards the tendril holding him, while its central shaft and circle blasted it's way towards the beast's gnashing jaw.

Click to shrink...

Fire is ever the antithesis of water, but water is also the opposite and counter of fire, as proven when gouts of fire slam into the icy water that seems to sap it's very strength greedily, absorbing the flames before they can reach it's dark master. But, even where magic runs wild and spirits dwell, some laws still apply.

Water becomes steam, and a great, scalding-hot cloud can be as damaging as any firebolt. A roar reverberates through the lake as the beast trashes, the tentacle slamming you hard onto the ice before the fire manages to burn through it, the severed tendril still stuck to your leg.

But there is little time to be wasted. A momentary pain is not enough to drive away evil such as this: even as the creatures retreats underneath the surface for the moment, you can feel rather than hear the malevolent curse being uttered that turns the surrounding elements against you. The ice itself comes alife to attack you, forming into jagged spikes that rise all around you like a twisted beartrap, while the wind seems to be a physical force pressing you down, even as the beast is surely maneuvering around for another strike.

Click to shrink...

In that instant Worst could feel the unnatural presence clearly as the Egyptian man is caught in a cloud of steam. Even amidst the growing chill of night there was a clear supernatural warmth that surrounded him. Instinctively the clone could tell the man would be capable of fending off the icy trap.

That leaves the beast to Misaka...! Immediately a handful of nails were in her hand as she descended into range—one in each hand staying the same aimed at the creature while the rest were shredded to iron sand that shot out like a vibrating wall to repel the beast. Even as she descended, she set alight some of the surrounding oxygen to help the man remove the intruding ice, and prepared to extricate them both if necessary.

Hopefully whatever power allowed the man to form oppressive heat will help him not take damage from Misaka's flight if worst comes to worst.