How long have the members of My Little Re-Class been around?
I know for a fact that Reivana has been around for "less than 9 years," because she would have been launched after Porta's retreat from the Azores. So depending on factors she is likely the youngest by far.
Of the ones I have made, Galatea might be the oldest actually. Rhode Island is the only other contender if we count her live before getting her braincase blown out. Then again, I never bothered to nail down when she would have been built.
To be honest, the thing to remember is how Re-Class are usually treated by Abyssals as a sort of fire and forget weapon. In general, they got a lifespan measured in months due to usually either getting into a fight that they don't survive or, something happens and their demons take over, leaving them as a mindless berserker that soon gets sunk. Hence, any Re-Class over more than a few years is "Old" to them.
Regina and Revina have been active since the beginning of the war as mentioned before, which is part of what makes them absolute terrors to fight, because both of them are extremely experienced in how to fight as a Re-Class. And, as mentioned here, Regina came from before the war, so she is one of the earliest Re-Classes alongside Revina. Probably not more than a few months before the war, but that is how things are.
I think the oldest Re might be the one in Scapa flow if I am remembering correctly? The more was I think a Re class that was with a Princess that was much older than the princess they served/assisted
I mean, it does work out pretty well when one considers everything since Abyssals of Flagship level can create small squalls. So, her working with the weather to clear off the storm clouds and to dry things out perfectly.
Also, I totally forgot about the exhibition matches. Ehren would absolutely be up for that and drag her Firstie friends along at a minimum. Probably also Vince and Elspeth would want to watch.
Nice use of the plot hook that I had Ehren help plant, HL! I figured that since you'd shown that both Cho and Su are interested in Harry and his capabilities that they'd be looking to make outreach -- and Ehren talking to Cedric catalyzed them having something to offer as they open the negotiations (I figure one or both may have confirmed the existence of the hedge maze for the Third Task by now).
It definitely was damning them with faint praise, but they need more information to go further. And to be honest, Harry knows that if there is anyone who would be a good choice to find things out, it would be the Blades of Tamamo.
As a side note, I somehow have the image that Natsumi has been spending a large chunk of her 'unscheduled school vacation' enchanting and otherwise preparing to animate Mr. Crumb so that she pulls off a truly epic prank on the Mad Cow.
The Flying Claws aren't exactly wrong, note. I also strongly suspect that she's investigated Ehren and Draco for two, although the former in particular is more or less an open book to Harry by now.
To be honest, their particular clans could be traced back to the early Song or late Tang Dynasties and have been around for a while. They're not exactly "Ancient", but they're pretty damn old and older than the Cao... which pisses said family off.
This speaks very well of the girls in question. Especially since by now it's no secret that the Caos and Potters are mortal foes. So this would put their families in opposition to the Mad Cow and allies....
To be honest, their families have an very long and generational grudge against the Cao for various reasons. That the Potters also do now only makes them natural allies.
That is the hilarity of it, Hedwig has been active since mid-winter of the previous year. So you always had some rumors and such drifting around Japanese message boards and the like, but now they have proof.
Yeah that hit me all at once and I needed to get it out of my head, so there you have it (after I confirmed that the Yom Kippur War wouldn't have dragged Del away from the US at the relevant times for the 1973 Kentucky Derby).
I'll point out that thanks to being horse-mad Zammy in particular catches the Triple Crown and some other races whenever she can. Del comes along, although she's not quite the fan that Zammy is. That said, they paid handsomely to have Secretariat fire a few colts and fillies for their ranch along with sire some of the next generation of Rayhan's stock.
Horses being a huge thing for Zammy is something that makes sense. There's reasons why I wrote that upon seeing the Pleistocene equines that came through the time quake, she immediately started to plan as to how she could tame them.
Which I'm absolutely looking forward to, especially since you know Natsumi would have tweaked the animating spirit and spells for 'maximum humiliation' of the Cow.
Yeah, he would. Hm, thinking about it, I'd say that Ehren and Johnston for two also have some nice abs -- something to consider when it comes to Draco.
Ehren might... but oddly, I can see Johnston being more like Huixing where her stomach is perfectly flat, but if you press down slightly, you discover that it is all muscle under a thin layer of fat. Cleo and Niobe, meanwhile, have a bit of plush there.
Yeah, well I got Ehren drunk at the Puff Party so she showed it then. (Also Ehren is currently kind of a middleweight when it comes to German Beer sneaking up on her, a decade or so from now she'll be a lot more experienced and able to handle her booze better).
To Draco's credit, he's using his shipgirls to keep Harry pretty much 'real time' informed as to what their enemies are doing. So Harry would know before breakfast that Blaise summoned a bunch of new minions to spy on him and take appropriate precautions. Granted, Harry would be able to spot them fast, but the warning would help Harry to be alert.
Yeah. Likewise, Draco expects to be spied on and has already been planning how to turn that to his advantage in suckering Blaise into doing what he wants to do.
Unfortunately for Blaise, he's been found out by people (Harry, Tamamo/Tamamo's Weapons/Natsumi, Draco/Ehren/Fleet) who both are onto him and are clever enough to not let him that he's been spotted. Blaise is about to get a very harsh less on in surprise is not understanding that the things you see are what the enemy wants you to see.
Yeah. He's also got the tools to do some real serious damage to the Death Eaters. For instance, timing the expected prank on Draco alongside the one on Mei Cao so Draco can work further into the DE's good graces since he was an obvious target alongside anoth r of their own.
My take on the character (FWIW, she's M1's character that I was borrowing with permission) is that she's going to be close to Harry as a fellow prankster as well as an Aunt.
Yeah, Mei is very good looking if you ignore the problematic personality and ambitions. She certainly has caught Blaise's eye for various reasons and the looks are one big part of things.
The problem for Blaise is that until he puts two and two together by watching an onmyoudou demonstration by say Jun'you and realizing the use of spirits he wouldn't know how heavily it hits that field. Even worse for him, while he's minimally aware that Colombe has 'been around the block' a fair bit, he has no idea that Kasuyu and Nongqawuse exist, much less that both of them are high-level Shamanic initiates in various Afican traditions, or that Ehren's heavily into Native American shamanism. Least of all does he know that they have him identified as a Shadow Spider Shaman....
To be honest, he did note that Harry used spirits in the Second Task... but walked away with a number of inaccurate thoughts. For example, he took Harry commenting about Salamanders and such to mean that he can only have very weak spirits and only for a very short time. Unlike him, as he sees the Spider as being much more powerful and can keep it up for days.
They would also have had unpleasant run ins with the Caos over the centuries so getting in good with more allies who don't like the Mad Cow is a good idea.
Oh, you got no idea... both families have a long standing, generational hatred for the Cao family for multiple good reasons, hate that is fully returned.
See, in ancient Japan, a baby wasn't really considered a person for some time after birth. So, if one died, the infant was usually buried either under the floorboards/under the house or somewhere on the property. It was believed that the baby's spirit would then drift around and become attached to an owl, turning it into a Tartarimokke. Said owl was then treated like a member of the family, just like the infant was and with respect, just like a Zashishiki Warashi. They became guardians of sorts as well.
That said, however... not all such examples were good. Because the souls of babies who were tossed into rivers, or killed to prevent more mouths to feed among other things would carry a grudge against the living. Murder victims would also at times attach themselves to owls as well. In these cases, the owl gained powers that would allow them to torment the living. Sometimes, even laying down curses that would haunt families for generations.
A. N. -- Team Carrow sets the stage for "The play's the thing/ Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king." -- Hamlet, Act II scene ii.... Prior snip in the arc here. Prior relevant snip here.
Flora handed over one of the two omamori charms that she had picked up from their dorm room in the interlude between elective classes and Potions -- which was not for academic success but instead for detection of hostile spirits -- as the twins reached the work station. As the charm changed hands, Flora quietly hissed out in Parseltongue: "{Zabini's making his move on us at long last. There's one of his spider spirits following us around now.}"
Hestia took the charm, put it in her pocket, and deliberately didn't let her gaze linger on the (now visible to her) spider spirit. Instead, she busied herself with putting on her protective gloves, apron, and face shield. "I guess I owe you one today, Sis. What did you have in mind?"
Flora smirked triumphantly as she noticed that their eavesdropper had followed them via the spell that had transported her and her sister to the Library of Secrets. Then, she smiled lovingly at her twin as she looked around, with the smile growing fond at the sight of a juvenile Ehren's backside as the Prussian marched determinedly toward the stairs down. "Fewer people than I'd expect down here, think all the Ravenclaws are enjoying the various festival sights like Professor Flitwick demonstrating dueling against that Japanese witch again... Kotegiri's her name, right?"
Blaise Zabini's cheeks heated uncontrollably while he stood in the crowd that was watching Professor Flitwick having yet another friendly sparring match with Masamune-no-Musashi.
He couldn't stop watching through that minion's eight eyes as a pair of twin Welsh green-eyes and dark-haired witches performed illicit acts straight out of Nunnery's spiciest stories before finally fixing their school uniforms, grabbing a few random books from the Library of Secrets' upper shelves, and returning to Hogwarts for dinner as if nothing had happened.
He never noticed how both Kozma Doroteya and Draco Malfoy triumphantly observed his blush and other subtle signs of arousal while the dark-haired Hungarian vampire possessively clung to Draco's arm and endured the angry glares of Pansy Parkinson.
Nor did he notice the smugly joyful glitter in Ehren du Chasteler's steel-blue eyes as the First Year Hufflepuff watched him fall further into the trap that Draco had ordered for her and the others to set so that their pawn could play his intended role....
I was specifying April because the original post about Kanmusu Online was specifically dated April 1, and I believe it was even mentioned that the whole thing was planned primarily as an April Fool's joke on Taylor.
This is pretty much true, and probably helped by how some stories are of how their Clans started. For example, the Li's claim that their first ancestors were given the secrets to begin cultivation by a snake spirit...
A. N. -- The Inner Eye Opens, and a diary is delivered. Prior snip in the arc here. Prior relevant snip here. (The Welsh translation shall be revealed in a future snip, incidentally.)
Albus Dumbledore climbed the ladder to the trapdoor in the ceiling of the tower with spryness that belied his age. He reached the top and looked around the room he had climbed into while he called out. "Sybill? Sybill?! I got your message and came as soon as I could!"
Finally, he spotted an unmoving heap of messy hair, scarves and robes sitting in an armchair staring fixedly at a crystal ball. Albus hurried over, and took her feverish hand. He spoke gently and soothingly to her as he squeezed it. "I'm here, Sybill, I'm here...."
Her jaws mechanically opened and she croaked out words in an eldritch contralto voice that was not her own.
"Bydd merched gefeilliaid llygaid emrallt cyfrinach y Tylwyth Teg yn cael eu datgelu gan y pry cop bradwrus. Os na chânt eu hanfon allan o ffau'r ddraig gysglyd i warchod ac arwain tywysog di-goron o rosynnau coch a gwyn, bydd trychineb yn digwydd pan fydd y cytundeb a dynnwyd yn cael ei dorri. Byddwch yn ofalus o ganlyniadau eich gweithredoedd, Brifathro, a gweithredwch yn ddoeth pan gânt eu dwyn ger eich bron i'w cosbi, oherwydd mae ganddynt ran i'w chwarae yn adnewyddu cysylltiadau'r tir gyda'u gwaed gwyryfol a dywalltwyd...."
Dumbledore frowned and muttered to himself as Sybill suddenly slumped as if she was a puppet with her strings cut. "I'm pretty sure that's an old dialect of Welsh...."
Dumbledore nodded solemnly while he answered in a compassionate voice. "It did indeed, in Welsh this time. Medieval Welsh, I think. It certainly sounded like my memory of Sir Nicholas cursing in his native tongue after he was refused entrance to the Headless Hunt on grounds of an insufficient decapitation."
Sybill took a deep swig of sherry, then spoke quietly and sadly in a voice burdened by an enormous intangible weight. "I don't know a word of Welsh, Albus. Sorry."
Dumbledore shook his head with a wry smile of his own. "I just know enough to know that I don't know enough Welsh to make head nor tail of this one. With your permission, I'll be taking one of your spare crystal balls to store this prophecy in."
Sybill pointed at the tables where the students sat while placing a possessive hand over the crystal ball on the table in front of her. "Grab one of those for the Ministry. Not Nostradamus here, it's my favourite."
"Delay notifying the Unspeakables that you have given yet another True Prophecy until I can speak to someone about this one and get a translation from the Welsh. The political situation inside the Ministry is... delicate... now that the Statute has collapsed and the Muggles are starting to take over matters." Albus Dumbledore asked his friend very gently and then reassured her. "It will only be a few days at most."
Sybill nodded slowly and replied in a tired voice. "I can do that much for you at least without violating my Seer's Oath. You plan to speak to Nearly Headless Nick about what the Inner Eye revealed to translate it then?"
Dumbledore paused then shook his head. "Nicholas isn't my first choice for that, Sybill. His heart is in the right place but he has a rather unguarded tongue and death hasn't improved that. No, I have a different person in mind, and I should let her know to get over to Hogwarts as soon as she can. Expecto Patronum!" Once his phoenix Patronus formed in front of him, Albus stared it in the eyes and spoke. "I need you to fly to Harriett with the following message for her...."
Ehren pulled out a Victorian-era diary from her book-bag. "I think I may have identified where the artifact you were looking for is... or at least was a century and a half ago."
Pratibha's reptilian pupils widened massively, then shrank to slits as she hastily slithered out of the tub to reach Ehren. "What did you find!?" She demanded once she reached the blonde.
Ehren shook her head with a sigh. "He was arrested for Necromancy and using his magic to seduce and rape a succession of well-born young witches. He died in Azkaban around 1900, I believe. According to what I dug up on him from the Carrows' library and then Professor Binns, this was a major scandal that damaged the Parkinson family's reputation and standing for a generation or two before Percival Parkinson took over. Percival stabilized things for them -- somewhat -- thanks to deeds of heroism in the First World War... that crippled him for life, admittedly. Or at least that's what Professor Binns told my avatar when I asked him about the Parkinsons. Niobe has the other diaries and the like on board that I pieced together that much from, I'll send her here to unload them so you can maybe spot anything that we missed."
Pratibha hissed out triumphantly. "So they may still have the Veena in their possession. Since it's hidden someplace on their property we can swoop in and recover it... and the ring as well.."
Amala chuffed out thoughtfully while she placed a quelling hand on Pratibha's shoulder. "Or they may have sold or traded it it to get the resources that they needed to survive the downfall of Pluto. We have recent spoor of our quarry, but do not assume that it runs in a straight path through the jungle. Thank you, chela, this is very valuable information as a starting point for our inquiries."
Pratibha tapped a finger against her lips. "A good point, Amala! We need to get access to the Parkinson's library and business papers if such exist. Especially since if we reveal ourselves to Ravana he will take steps to continue his freedom."
Ehren smirked smugly as she returned the hug. "I'll need to run back upstairs soon to rendezvous with Draco, but I have a message for my other avatar down here if you could pass it along to me. 'Blaise Zabini has summoned more of his spider spirits to bug my friends. Harry Potter asked me to ensure that they don't follow him all the way down to spy on him during his next Library of Secrets trip, so I'll need to ward off the stairs from Eighth Floor to Ninth Floor so they get stalled there.' This needs to be done in the next day or two before he makes his move to sucker Zabini."
Pratibha smiled and spoke. "We shall, of course, assist you when you do this, and help him once he arrives for his expedition." The naga tapped the diary with a fingernail. "It's the least that we can do for a true friend and ally such as yourself."
Generally means either they themselves are illegitimate (born to parents that weren't married at the time) or their ancestors were, and Nakahara is an actual Japanese family, so presumably she's illegitimate.
Oh, not quite... I mean, granted, her parents might not have been married considering that she was born in the 1950s with her father being a foreigner, but it isn't for her.
To be honest, it has been established that Hogwarts was the center and main administration for the area. So it makes sense that there would be an area set aside for tourneys and the like to happen on. The last real change was modifications during the Tudor period, which includes the towers.
Thank you, it should be really interesting for things. Note, I kind of figured that Lily had dueled some of the Black Sisters, possibly Narcissa, in unsanctioned duels on said field.
Yeah, if you want somewhere to have spectators, it only makes sense for protections to be there. So, the area basically has wards to help keep any spectators safe going back to the 900s.
Dumbledore: Indeed, Mister Potter. I have lived over a century and there's still magics that I do not know of and I come across all the time. Never stop learning.
Well, I figured that since Harry was raised in Japan, Neville would have checked things out and come across Miyamoto Musashi (Harry has likely either gifted him or is going to gift him The Book of Five Rings).
Ehren: **sneezes** "I wonder if they are talking about my secret studies both of kundalini control and also Big sister Ying's school of Magical Chinese martial arts that, yes, uses Qi for some of its higher-level techniques."
**bows** It's good to see you running with this plot thread after I accidentally triggered it with the Big Red snip that hit me. I'm looking forward to what we have planned for them....
I mean, it is Lily and she is opening up more since her secret was revealed. And yes, Dean is living dangerously, though one can't really blame him all that much.
To be honest... Harry isn't about to come out with the full tale there considering how it could look. A number of those there know that he is not telling them something, but not what.
Yeah,t hat's a perfect blend because early modern humans evolved as endurance hunters who could, for example, chase a deer until the deer collapsed from exhaustion.
Yeah, from the horse they get the speed and strength, and the endurance from the human side. It actually shows why Kamo so very much wanted them as troops.
That... could turn out interestingly considering that some of them have bonded with the spirits of famous race horses. There is even a chance that some Uma Musume could even have the spirits of horses that Del and Zamarad had or personally knew.
To be honest, the Twins figured it out around Second or Third Year and kept very quiet about it. Others have also figured it out, but once more, Natsumi is seen as an honorary Gryffindor by them. If and When it comes out, they'll treat anyone insulting her over it like they do any fellow Lion.
To be honest, it actually makes sense from several standpoints that MYFYS would have a division towards historical fighting styles with weapons and armor, but using magic to prevent serious injury... Though, needless to say, said fights can get hardcore and brutal real fast.
Did we ever get a Word of Author on the issue that got brought up when the LoS first showed up? The one about what the official stance of HM Government would be on a dangerous location like that being open to the students?
"Hello there, Miss Carrow. You're up early. Not spending time with your other half?"
Hestia Carrow turned to survey the dark-skinned wizard who had just approached her after casting a privacy ward. She sized him up then replied in a coolly superior voice. "Zabini. What brings you here?"
Blaise leaned in with a predatory smile. "Just a matter of leverage, Miss Carrow. You have it over Draco Malfoy and I desire for you to use it to have him do what I desire."
Hestia sniffed with a superior smirk. "Yes, we have Draco by the short and curlies. But why should we Carrows listen to your 'requests', Zabini?"
Blaise's voice turned hard as he demanded: "Are you the twin with the port-wine birthmark on her left titty next to the nipple or not, Miss Carrow?"
Hestia's eyes widened in shocked surprise as she snapped out. "That's Flora, but how do you know?!"
Blaise smirked knowingly as he slapped his hand against the wall by her ear to kabedon Hestia. "I know all about you and your sister's dirty little secrets, Hestia Carrow. So, are you going to see reason or not?"
Hestia's voice lowered dangerously and her eyes narrowed to slits as she leaned toward him -- while grasping the handle of her wand. "Bugger off, Zabini. You might get your jollies having a wank as you peek on witches in the washroom to find that out about Flora, but I won't have a bloody thing to do with you. Much less use our leverage over Draco 'on your behalf'. So get your slimy arse out of my sight before I curse you like you've never been cursed before."
Blaise's voice turned hard and his eyes glittered as he leaned in to reinforce his demand in a threatening hiss. "So that's your answer then, Carrow?"
"First, last and only answer, Zabini." Hestia snarled out, then smiled triumphantly when Flora emerged from the Head Boy's room, followed by Draco Malfoy and his shipgirls. Her sarcastic voice turned poisonously saccharine. "Now, if you don't mind, I see that little sister has finished feeding our pet snakes and I'm hungry, so I'll be at breakfast with Draco. If you don't like that, gab with him. Tosser."
With that insult, she flipped her hair dismissively as she pushed past Blaise to meet Flora and Draco -- while paying no obvious attention to the spider spirits trailing after them.
Blaise muttered under his breath in a rage-filled frustrated voice as his hands clenched with anger. "Hard way it is then; well then! Examples will have to be made of you and your sister, you little incestuous cunt." With those words, he moved to intercept Pansy Parkinson so he could begin to take advantage of what he's be doing next.
After all, it was a poor spider who only had one strand in his web to entrap his prey....
"Valorous Day, Headmaster Dumbledore. Her Majesty hath graciously given me leave to attend to thy request for a consultation. What urgent news hath you for my perusal?"
Albus Dumbledore looked over to the shipgirl who had just entered his office, then automatically checked the Privacy Wards before responding. "I must inquire. Are you fluent in Medieval Welsh?"
Harriett grinned happily and nodded as she responded in Middle Welsh: "Dw i'n eithaf rhugl yn y Gymraeg o gyfnod y Brenin Harri. Gallaf ei darllen hefyd os oes angen. {I'm quite fluent in Welsh from the time of King Henry. I can also read it if such is needed.}"
Dumbledore breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. This information needs to go no farther than us two and Her Majesty -- along with whomever she invites to the secret. Yesterday afternoon, the school's Divination Teacher gave me a prophecy in what I believe is Medieval Welsh, which I suspect has relevance to the fight against our mutual foe."
Harriett nodded sharply as her fingers tapped the handle of the 'holy water sprinkler' mace slung at her hip. "So you need me to translate it, then? Where's a copy of yon prophecy that I may puzzle out the meaning from its verses?"
Dumbledore walked with her over to his Pensieve, then activated it after animating a quill to transcribe the next words.
"Here it is."
A black and white image of Professor Sybill Trelawney slumped in her chair formed. Then as Dumbledore tried to rouse her, she spoke in a voice not her own:
"Datgelir dwy ferch emrallt cyfrinach y Tylwyth Teg gan y pry copyn bradwrus. Os na chânt eu hanfon allan o ffau'r ddraig gysglyd i warchod ac arwain tywysog di-goron o rosynnau coch a gwyn, bydd trychineb yn digwydd pan fydd y cytundeb a dynnwyd yn cael ei dorri. Byddwch yn ofalus o ganlyniadau eich gweithredoedd, Brifathro, a gweithredwch yn ddoeth pan gânt eu dwyn ger eich bron i'w cosbi, oherwydd mae ganddynt ran i'w chwarae yn adnewyddu cysylltiadau'r tir gyda'u gwaed gwyryfol a dywalltwyd...."
Harriett's breath sucked in through her teeth as she listened to the Welsh. As the image faded, she blew out a heavy sigh then spoke. "It's Welsh all right. Namely 'The twin emerald-eyed daughters of the 'Fair Family' shall have their secret exposed by the treacherous spider. If they are not sent forth from the sleeping dragon's lair to guard and guide the Crownless Prince of red and white roses, disaster shall befall when the sworn pact is broken. Ware the consequences of your deeds, Headmaster, and act wisely when they are brought before you for punishment, for they have parts to play in the renewal of the land's ties with their virgin blood shed....' It's not about Voldemort... I don't think."
Dumbledore shook his head. "Not apparently. But that prophecy was clearly addressed to me, and... whomever the daughters of the Fair Family are. Wait... is that..?"
Harriett's normally jocular voice grew solemn as she nodded. "The Fair Folk of Wales, yes. I do have a bit of a suspicion as to what this means. You remember the Tudor of Royal Blood who got 'coincidentally' found and returned to safety?"
Dumbledore nodded sharply. "Yes I do. And the Tudor heraldry was a white and red rose, so he must be the Crownless Prince." He pointed at Harriett's breastplate engravings of Tudor Roses. "Sleeping Dragon's Lair is Hogwarts, but who are the daughters in question?!"
Harriett extended her hand, and the Faerie of Henry VIII formed on it. "Oi, Oi, oi oi Oi. Oi oi, oi oi, oi, oi oi Oi. Oi oi oi Oi. {When I was a young boy, shortly before I took the Crown, my father on his deathbed told me of a pact that he had made with the Fae of Wales. In exchange for aid in battle to win the crown, he swore that his oldest grandson, my son, would sire children upon a witch daughter of Owen Carrou. Whose family was supposedly descended from a Queen of the Faeries in Wales.}"
Dumbledore snapped his fingers. "Now I see. The Carrow Family has twin witches studying in Hogwarts as we speak. Both Flora and Hestia Carrow possess striking green eyes, which is a family trait of theirs. This prophecy must be telling me to send them to aid Miss Malfoy in helping your son recover once we break the stasis spell weekend after next."
Harriett nodded solemnly, then Henry VIII spoke up. "Oi oi. Oi oi, oi, oi oi. Oi, oi. {I would wish for these witches to meet me first. I refuse to have my beloved son, my flesh and blood, married to a harridan that would make him unhappy. No matter his duty, some sacrifices are too great to bear.}"
Dumbledore nodded. "Well said, sir. You and your shipgirl are welcome to enjoy Hogwarts' hospitality until what is about to happen happens. Now I believe that the Misses Carrow are with the other Third Year Slytherins finishing their before-lunch elective classes. After lunch, they have Defense Against the Dark Arts and then Herbology, which you are of course welcome to sit in on to observe them in their native environment, as it were."
"Hello there, Miss Carrow. You're up early. Not spending time with your other half?"
Hestia Carrow turned to survey the dark-skinned wizard who had approached her after casting a privacy ward. She sized him up then replied in a coolly superior voice. "Zabini. What brings you here?"
Blaise smirked knowingly as he slapped his hand aganst the wall by her ear to kabedon Hestia. "I know all about you and your sister's dirty little secrets, Hestia Carrow. So, [i[are you going to see reason or not?[/i]"
Blaise muttered under his breath in a rage-flled frustrated voice as his hands clenched with anger. "Hard way it is then; well then! Examples with have to be made of you and your sister, you little incestous cunt." With those words, he moved to intercept Pansy Parkinson to begin to take advantage of what he's be doing next.
After all, it was a poor spider who only had one strand in his web to entrap his prey....
Valorous Day, Headmaster Dumbledore. Her Majesty hath graciously given me leave to attend to thy request for a consultation. What urgent news hath you for my perusal?"
Albus Dumbledore looked over to the shipgirl who had just entered his office, then automatically checked the Privacy Wards before responding. "I must inquire. Are you fluent in Medieval Welsh?"
Harriett's breath sucked in through her teeth as she listened to the Welsh. As the image faded, she blew out a heavy sigh then spoke. "It's Welsh all right. Namely 'The twin emerald-eyed daughters of the 'Fair Family' shall have their secret exposed exposed by the treacherous spider. If they are not sent forth from the sleeping dragon's lair to guard and guide the Crownless Prince of red and white roses, disaster shall befall when the sworn pact is broken. Ware the consequences of your deeds, Headmaster, and act wisely when they are brought before you for punishment, for they have parts to play in the renewal of the land's ties with their virgin blood shed....' It's not about Voldemort... I don't think."
Harriett extneded her hand, and the Faerie of Henry VIII formed on it. "Oi, Oi, oi oi Oi. Oi oi, oi oi, oi, oi oi Oi. Oi oi oi Oi. {When I was a young boy, shortly before I took the Crown, my father on his deathbed told me of a pact that he had made with the Fae of Wales. In exchange for aid in battle to win the crown, he swore that his oldest grandson, my son, would sire children upon the witch daughter of Owen Carrou. Who was supposedly descended from a Queen of the Faeries in Wales.}"
Harriett nodded solemnly, then Henry VIII spoke up. "Oi oi. Oi oi, oi, oi oi. Oi, oi. {I would wish for these witches to meet me first. I refuse to have my beloved son, my flesh and blood, married to a harridan that would make him unhappy. No matter his duty, some sacrifices are too great to bear.}"
{I would wish for these witches to meet me first. I refuse to have my beloved son, my flesh and blood, married to a harridan that would make him unhappy. No matter his duty, some sacrifices are too great to bear.}"
Yeah, coming at it from the other direction. Henry VII told Henry VIII on his deathbed about the deal, and Henry VIII (not being dumb) left messages for Edward Vi's regency council, but the boy died at 15. Of course, the oldest son Henry sired is still alive....
Yeah but Harriett hasn't met them yet and doesn't know them at all. So Henry's a little cautious (especially since his own romantic life was... chaotic).
Ware the consequences of your deeds, Headmaster, and act wisely when they are brought before you for punishment, for they have parts to play in the renewal of the land's ties with their virgin blood shed....'
...doesn't the shedding of virgin blood usually mean consummating a marriage, as it were? In other words, Hestia and Flora can't afford to lose their virginity.
AN: Once again, thanks to Harry Leferts and PinoyGamer for their feedback. We're probably two chapters away from concluding this story arc. And now we get to see how the Mananabas deal with this threat, despite the restrictions put in place by the Trese. I might edit it later, depending on whether I feel there's a need to improve the snippet or not.
"There are no secrets that time does not reveal."
― Jean Racine
XXXXX
Han-Fontanera Residence
Antipolo City
9:30 p.m.
Redford Bulaklak nodded in approval as he approached the residence of his (many great-great-) niece-in-law. Standing around, relaxed yet alert, were the scores of men from The Boys, Aurelia Doce's private army of enforcers. At a glance, he could tell that each man was on hair trigger, ready to pull out weapons hidden in their suits.
"Evening, boys," he greeted them, briefly leaning on his walking cane.
"Good evening, Sir!" the men responded.
The leader, whom Redford recognized as Pedro Clemenza, approached him.
"Greetings, Sir," Pedro began. "Is there anything we can do for you?"
"Nah, just acting as a courier tonight," Redford replied, holding a hefty manila envelope in his free hand, "I have something for Peach."
"I see," Pedro said, though he didn't fully understand, "Miss Principe is still inside. The Fontaneras and Miss Gabriel are keeping her company."
"Jenny's still awake?" Redford frowned. "Never mind, I'll convince the kid to get some sleep. It's getting late. I just need to make sure Peach receives these documents first."
—
Peach Principe's hands trembled as she read through the stack of documents.
Mario Fontanera hugged his girlfriend in support, while his twin sister, Maria, gently rubbed her back. Their mother, Irene, and a still-awake Jenny Gabriel looked on with sympathy.
"I-is this true?" Peach asked the man who delivered the papers.
"Rama is The Archivist of The High Table," Redford Bulaklak explained while sipping his tea. "He has virtually unlimited resources for digging up history. He even checked his sources three times. What you have there is the complete history of your family since the 1800s."
"I finally know something about my family…" Peach murmured.
"That's good news, right?" Jenny asked from the adjacent couch.
"Yes, that's true," Peach replied, smiling weakly. "I suppose I have a place to start in rebuilding my personal history."
"I've got to say, Red," Irene interjected, "Rama's pretty fast when it comes to research, but this pretty much sets the record. What's going on?"
"Honestly? Rama and I were puzzled about why Peach was targeted," Redford explained. "The Talim ni Sidapa's services aren't cheap, and the list of targets is selective. Killing entire families in such thoroughly accidental ways means their client had a very serious grudge."
"Well," Mario scratched his head, "at least we know what's going on here."
"Yeah," Peach's expression turned downcast. "But to learn that my ancestor was Captain Pedro Janolino, the chief assassin of General Antonio Luna…"
"Hey, Peach, love, listen to me," Mario said. "Whatever happened back then was on him. The sins of the father do not visit upon his children. You had nothing to do with it. You're just dealing with someone who can't let go of their grudge."
"That's true!" Maria added. "And look on the bright side: at least you know more about your family now, something you didn't know for years."
"True…" Peach murmured. "Thanks, you two."
Their attention was suddenly caught by the sounds of fighting outside the house.
"What was that?" Irene asked, whipping out her wand.
"Ah, just some uninvited guests," Redford responded, finishing his tea and standing up, walking cane in hand. "I should probably help the Boys outside. Things seem to be getting exciting."
"Wait, Mr. Bulaklak!" Peach called out, but Redford had already left.
"Don't worry, Ate Peach," Jenny assured her. "Tito Red will take care of it."
"Take care of it?" Peach said, flabbergasted. "No disrespect, but considering how much trouble Mr. Han had fighting those assassins, I'm worried for Mr. Bulaklak. He's going out there with just a walking cane, for Christ's sake."
"Ah, yeah, about that, love?" Mario rubbed the back of his head. "I think I forgot to tell you…"
"Tito Red's walking cane?" Maria continued. "It's not what you think."
—
Han-Fontanera Residence
Antipolo City
9:50 p.m.
Asset 47 knew, the moment they started their mission in the Philippines, that they were on borrowed time.
The Maragtas clan was always an unknown entity. The Talim ni Sidapa may have the resources and the spies in places that mattered, but the criminal underworld of magic remained beyond their access. A complete blank in their intelligence network, all due to the Maragtas clan's iron grip on everyone involved in the life of magical crimes. In their line of work, the unknown always leads to fatal results.
More so when it came to their attack dogs, the Mananabas.
That was why Ang Guro aimed to make the Trese family the major roadblock against the clan. Invoking the Treaty of 1905 was a stroke of genius, truth be told. A lot of resources that the Maragtas could use against the cult had essentially been frozen. The said treaty also ordered the Mananabas to stand down and do nothing.
Unfortunately, this did not improve the current situation.
"FUCK!" he ducked, barely avoiding the bullets flying over his head.
The template used was simple enough. Irene Fontanera's restaurant was a known meeting place for several criminal syndicates. Shoot-outs between arguing gangs were a common occurrence there. It was a simple extension of logic that her home could be attacked as well.
With the use of a burner phone, they have also called the police. It would take at least fifteen minutes for the cops to arrive, by their estimate, but it was enough time to escape. And with the cops being involved, this makes it a crime committed on the Light side. The Trese family will be part of this and will tie up the hands of the Maragtas clan.
It was a good plan.
A plan that went up in flames the moment Aurelia Doce's men came out to face them, guns ablaze.
Asset 47 rubbed his forehead in frustration while keeping his head down.
Due to an insufficient number of speedsters, his group only had those enhanced for strength. It was biting them now in the ass. They did not have anyone fast enough to avoid the shots fired by The Boys and then counterattack.
At least they had some body armor. And Asset 47's teammates were all expert gun users. They did manage to whittle down the opposition by about half already. Unfortunately, the remaining half refused to go down.
"Kuso!" Asset 43 cursed beside him, coughing from the broken concrete, "Can't this get any worse?!"
As a matter of fact, it did get worse.
"Ceasefire!" one of The Boys shouted, "Retreat now!"
It was quiet for a few moments after that. Taking a risk, Asset 47 peeked over the wall. What he saw was totally not part of the plan.
"No…" he groaned, "No, no, NO!"
Redford Bulaklak was now in the field, his cane tapping loudly against the concrete street.
All the assassins promptly stopped firing and glanced at each other in shock. They quickly switched to bladed weapons. This was not an opponent to be taken lightly.
"What the fuck?!" Asset 123 grumbled nearby, "What's a Mananabas doing here? I thought the Trese had them on lockdown?"
"Shut up," Asset 47 hissed, "Let me do the talking. We might still be able to finish our mission."
He stood up and took a few steps forward.
"You're overstepping your authority, Mr. Bulaklak," Asset 47 warned, "The Treaty of 1905 expressly forbids you from taking any action against crimes committed on the light side. The police are on their way."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Redford replied, "I just came to deliver some documents here. Now? I'm just taking a leisurely walk home."
"The Trese family will not like this. The Maragtas clan and, by extension, their Mananabas, are forbidden from involving themselves in magical crimes on the Light side."
"I'm sorry," Redford smiled, "I simply don't understand. No magical crimes are being committed here, are there? I just noticed a bunch of people shooting each other with perfectly mundane guns."
Asset 47 grimaced. He walked right into that one. They just had to use a template that did not involve any magic at all. Of course, the Trese family might not bother involving themselves.
"This doesn't have to get messy, Mr. Bulaklak," he said to the immortal, "Just hand us over Peach Principe and we'll be on our way."
"Well, I beg to differ," came the reply, "You've already made a mess of my family. Surely, you realize we'd be demanding compensation?"
"As I said, just give us the girl," the assassin repeated, "If you want compensation, we can negotiate at a later date. Despite your sin against our church, we still respect you for achieving the impossible."
"I thought I made it clear," Redford's expression turned serious, "You've made a mess of my family. Peach Principe is part of my family."
Asset 47 sighed. He was afraid of this.
"I take it that there's no negotiation then?" he clarified.
"Exactly," Redford replied.
The immortal then closed his eyes. He then crouched, right foot forward, and his cane held to the left side using both his hands. For some reason, the posture was very familiar to Asset 47.
Said assassin ignored the warning. Brandishing his spear, he charged forward. He was just about to skewer Redford when the latter's eyes snapped open. The clicking sound of a sword getting sheathed was the only thing heard as the spear wielder's head flew away.
"What was that?" Asset 123 muttered in surprise, "I didn't see what he did!"
"Me neither," Asset 47 agreed.
There was something really familiar about Redford Bulaklak's attack posture.
Murmurs of agreement from the rest came out. Now wary of how one of their numbers died from an unknown attack, they began to strategize.
"He's just one man," Asset 47 decided, "If we attacked him together, there's a greater chance of us getting a hit in. Pattern Alpha Charlie seems ideal."
"Agreed," his fellow assassins agreed.
Together, they surrounded Redford. Once again, the Mananabas had closed his eyes and returned to his earlier crouching position.
After a beat, they all attacked simultaneously.
It should have been a foolproof plan. They had practiced their techniques as a group for years. Each one acted as an independent point of attack that never hindered the other warriors. It was a strategy that never failed to bring down their target.
And yet.
The first sign that something went wrong was one of the assassin's feet getting lopped off. Another assassin then lost her head. Two other assassins lost their hands next. It was the same thing with the rest of the team.
Until only Asset 47 remained standing.
But it was only due to the sword that Redford Bulaklak stabbed into the assassin's chest. Pulling the blade out, Redford flicked the blood away from his sword. The assassin fell to his knees.
"How?" the dying assassin asked in disbelief, "That was Ryukansen. How do you know Ryukansen?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Redford sheathed his sword back into his cane, "I'm the current Seijuro Hiko. The 22nd to bear such a name."
"Impossible…" Asset 47 whispered, "The 22nd is dead. And we've fought the 23rd. We… also know… the 24th user of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu… and it's not you… how…"
The man finally breathed his last, his face still full of disbelief.
Had he lived a little longer, he would have seen the look of surprise and confusion on Redford Bulaklak's face.
—
Talim ni Sidapa remote safehouse
Location Unknown
9:50 a.m.
Asset 998 forced himself to stay still as he hid inside the closet. He even stuffed his mouth with his handkerchief to muffle his voice.
This should not be happening.
They were just supposed to rest for a bit before they began their planned purge of the target family. A home robbery that went wrong. No survivors. In and out within five minutes. They even get to steal any valuables they can find within that time frame.
Except, just as they were about to depart, Asset 777's headless body crashed through the front door. Following right behind was a sight none of the assassins wanted to see.
Aurelia Doce casually walked inside as she slurped the brains from Asset 777's head.
"Ah, good," she sighed in satisfaction, "Moses wasn't kidding when he said I'd be feasting tonight."
Her blood-stained face split into a manic grin.
"I'm hungry right now, and I want my midnight snacks!"
Aurelia Doce pounced on her virtually hapless prey.
Due to where he stood at that time, Asset 998 had no way to escape. As Aurelia tore his fellow assassins apart with her bare hands, he made his choice of retreat. She was still busy eating the brains of his dead companions as he ran inside the (unfortunately) windowless bedroom. He then squeezed himself into the only closet there.
Outside, he could hear screams and sounds of gunfire echoing all over the safehouse. Slowly, but surely, the noise began to die down. In a few minutes, everything became quiet. Except for the sounds of footsteps approaching the bedroom.
<<Come out, come out, wherever you are!>> Aurelia called out, <<I've got places to go tonight, and I want to finish my meal!>>
Asset 998 could not believe what he was hearing.
This Mananabas was fluent in speaking a modified dialect of the Ainu people. One that was adopted and designed by their church to be their code language for secrecy. It was never broken by anyone for two decades! How did this woman know about their code? She started speaking like that after-.
Asset 998's eyes widened.
Aurelia Doce started speaking like that after she ate Assets 248's and 674's brains!
Those two were the linguists of the team.
Now that he thought about it, some of the martial arts moves she used earlier were very similar to Asset 535's techniques, right after said assassin's brain was devoured by that woman.
The surviving assassin began to piece things together. Some aspects of Aurelia Doce had always puzzled their analysts back in Japan. Why did she never use weapons when fighting? Why did she often eat her victims, especially the brains? Why did she seem to develop skills and gain knowledge that the victims possessed right after the consumption?
It was too similar. Too disturbingly similar to another group of immortal warriors. The ones based in Borneo.
The revelation then hit him: Aurelia Doce was not a Mananabas of the Maragtas clan.
She was a Penuai of the Pemburu clan!
How did the Maragtas make such an enormous error? The Pemburu clan was one of their mortal enemies. The Penuai created by the Pemburu were notorious for being cannibalistic warriors, specialized in killing members of the Maragtas.
Asset 998 needed to leave. Their church needed to know this discovery. This could be the key to bringing down one of the biggest thorns in their backsides.
The closet door suddenly swung open, interrupting his plans. With the room's light illuminating from the side, it revealed Aurelia Doce in all her bloody glory. She was smiling hungrily at him.
<<Oh, good!>> she purred, <<I'm getting my dessert.>>
Asset 998 screamed. He tried to fight back. It did not save him.
—-
Pasig Revolving Tower
M. Suarez Ave., Pasig City
10:00 p.m.
Charo Taclas frowned as she observed the external CCTV cameras. As the hostess and general manager of The High Table restaurant, it was her job to ensure no undesirables entered the premises. Based on the appearance of the people approaching the restaurant, she needed to inform her boss immediately.
She had an assistant take her place and then proceeded to the restaurant proper. The air inside was a curious mix of fear and excitement. No doubt due to the numerous children still playing around, with their parents nervously looking about. True, it was very late at night already, but no one seemed to be in the mood to sleep.
Charo looked around and found her destination: Rama Ruhian was discussing something with a pair of elderly men.
"Rama, I'm getting nervous here," one of the men said as she approached.
"Señor Aguinaldo, there is no need to be worried," Rama assured him, "You and your family are guests of the High Table. Therefore, you are under our security."
"Damned ancestor of mine," another man rubbed his forehead, "I don't have any proof, but I know it's his fault. You don't play both sides in a war, ever. You'll always end up pissing off the wrong faction."
"Be at ease, Señor Buencamino," Rama replied, "While there is some truth regarding Don Felipe's antics back in the war, I can't fault him for that. Only a fool would dismiss such opportunities. And Don Felipe was no fool."
Charo cleared her throat politely.
"Ah, yes, Charo?" Rama turned to her.
"Sir," she began, "several gentlemen are approaching the premises."
"I knew it!" Señor Buencamino grumbled, "Once this problem is done with, I am going to clean my house. Who knows what other skeletons in the closet would bite our asses later?"
He walked away as Señor Aguinaldo patted his shoulder in consolation.
"I'll be checking my own family for now," the elderly descendant of President Emilio Aguinaldo said, "I'll leave this issue in your capable hands, Rama."
Rama bowed in respect as the current Aguinaldo patriarch rejoined his family.
"Gentlemen, you say?" he clarified with Charo.
"I believe these are the uninvited ones," she replied, "what would you like to do with them?"
"You know what I wish," Rama said, "No disturbances allowed within the grounds of the Pasig Revolving Tower."
"As you wish."
Charo bowed and left.
She then calmly rode the elevator down to the ground floor. Standing at the restaurant entrance, she noted the newcomers slowly walking towards her.
"Excuse me," she bowed, "I'm afraid the restaurant currently cannot accept guests. We are booked for a private gathering."
"Like we care about that!" a man sneered, "Get out of our way if you don't want to get hurt."
"Or you can stay there," another added, "All the better to kill you."
Charo narrowed her eyes.
"Apologies," she began, "But am I to understand that you wish harm to the guests?"
"So?" the first man shrugged, "What'll you do if we want to kill them?"
"We've blocked all communication lines and cameras, you know," the second man said, "Can't call for help. No one would know what's going on here."
"In that case," Charo nodded, "This makes things easier. I'll just have to deal with you, then."
At her declaration, the group of assassins began to laugh.
"Oh, really?" the first man snorted, "You're going to deal with us?"
"What're you going to do?" the second man added, "There's fifty of us and there's only one of you."
Charo simply shrugged and began to walk down the doorsteps, "Well, I'll just walk down for a bit. I need to get away from my master's suppressing aura, after all."
With every step she took, her appearance began to change. Her brown skin began to turn very pale. Her returning powers also burned away her hair's brown dye, revealing original snow-white strands. Her gray business suit morphed into a skimpy white seifuku, the lower part a very short black skirt. Finishing her transformation was a set of Abyssal rigging forming around her.
She stopped in front of the stunned men, looking at them with her golden eyes.
For the restaurant hostess Charo Taclas, these men were indeed formidable.
But for the formerly feral Ta-class Abyssal, who was tamed by Rama Ruhian and was christened Charo?
These men were pests.
"I'm sorry," Charo bowed, "But I serve my master. His wishes are my command."
The set of 16-inch triple gun mounts began to move.
Charo watched serenely as the now-panicking men tried to defend their lives or flee. Slowly, she smiled. Ultimately, it was a futile effort for them.
—
Airplane Hangar and Warehouse
Romero Shipping and Logistics
Pasay City
11:25 p.m.
One moment, everything was in order.
Asset 99 was discussing with her fellow assassins the finer details of their next target. Asset 888, their nominal leader, had just returned to continue the meeting. Things went about as usual.
Then came the chaos.
Out of nowhere, bullets fired from strategic locations rained upon them. They were practically blanketed. Almost everyone in the meeting area died instantly. It was only fleeting, but Asset 99 caught the grim face of Moses Han as he held a machine gun in a darkened corner of the warehouse.
"MOVE!" their leader shouted.
Asset 99 began to run. As one of those enhanced for speed, she had a high chance of escaping. After all, she was faster than a speeding bullet. She needed to reach their armory!
She suddenly twisted around when a bullet lodged in her shoulder. A lucky shot then went through her hand.
"AAAGH! MOTHER*****R!"
Unfortunately, speed meant jack squat when it came to the second and third speeding bullets following the first. Moses Han learned his lesson earlier.
Asset 99 was cradling her hand when Asset 888 pulled her up.
"This way!" he pointed at a corridor, "We need to get to the safe room! Forget the armory, we won't make it!"
Despite the pain, she followed their leader as closely as she could. There was no end to the gunfire. Left and right, she saw her fellow assassins dying from getting hit. Then again, the corridor to the safe room offered no place to hide from the shots. The corridor was so straight that she thought she caught glimpses of the Mananabas, who was shooting at them.
She managed to rush into the safe room right after Asset 888. Aside from her, there were ten other survivors.
"Damn it!" Asset 888 growled, "You guys are all that's left?"
"Asset 56 is still missing," one of her teammates replied, "Asset 414 and 200 are attempting to find the shooter. They managed to get weapons from the armory earlier."
"Ah, those two…" Asset 888 shook his head.
The radio in the room then crackled.
"Hey, this is Asset 200, anyone listening?"
Their leader grabbed the radio, "This is Asset 888, report!"
"We got the shooter, sir," Asset 200 replied, "Asset 414 managed to stab him in the heart."
"Him?" Asset 99 whispered, confused.
"I think we got him," Asset 200 continued, "I think we managed to kill Moses Han."
Hearing that, everyone in the room broke out in joyous laughter. There would probably be jumping and dancing had not Asset 888 ordered everyone to stand down. He then directed Assets 200 and 414 to bring Moses Han's body to the safe room for confirmation.
It was a task that took several minutes. Once the two victorious assassins arrived (and their identities vetted), they were then welcomed inside. Dragged between them was the bloody body of Moses Han. Asset 888 knelt and inspected the corpse.
"Is that…?" Asset 99 asked.
"Yeah," Asset 888 replied, "And he's dead..."
Everyone smiled in relief. Finally, they brought down one of their biggest enemies. They have finally avenged their slain god.
"Hey," Asset 888 suddenly asked, "what's this?"
He pointed at Moses' hand that was still holding the Micro-Uzi (the two idiots forgot to secure it in their excitement). A generous amount of duct tape was wrapped around the hand, securing it to the gun.
"So, he doesn't let go of the gun while shooting?" Asset 414 shrugged.
"Idiot!" their leader snarled, "then explain to me why his finger isn't on the trigger."
Indeed, Moses' index finger was nowhere near the trigger. Instead, there was a small box with a blinking light covering it.
"Wait," Asset 99 frowned, "Isn't that a remote-controlled trigger device?"
"Yeah," Asset 888 nodded, "Now why would he need that?"
They all watched as their leader began to inspect the body. Upon reaching Moses' face, Asset 888 frowned. He then pulled the 'skin' off, revealing the face of Asset 56, his mouth taped shut.
"What the fuck?!" Asset 414 recoiled.
"It's a decoy!"
"That means Moses Han is still alive." Asset 99 declared.
"Most likely," Asset 888 agreed.
"Damn it," she growled, "The real Moses Han could probably be anyone, then."
"It's possible," her leader replied, "I take it everyone's here? Those that survived, that is?"
A lot of 'yeah' and nods were given by the people inside the room.
"All right," Asset 888 muttered, "too bad the enhancements were only speed or strength."
"Why?" Asset 99 asked.
"Well, had your senses been enhanced, you would've figured it out."
Asset 99 was still confused when her body was suddenly riddled with bullets.
Fired from a Glock 18C with a very long magazine.
And it was held by Asset 888, her leader.
At the same time, the sounds of a shotgun being fired filled the room. The remaining assassins were all hit by explosive shells that blew parts of their bodies off. Only Asset 888 remained standing, although half the skin of his face had been flayed by the explosions. Strangely, no blood came out.
"Why…" Asset 99 whispered in disbelief.
As she bled out from all her wounds, she watched as "Asset 888" pulled the skin of his "face" off, revealing the stern expression of Moses Han.
"Just as planned," he said vindictively.
Asset 99 closed her eyes permanently as the Mananabas finished off the survivors.
—
The hangar and its attached warehouses were completely engulfed in flames.
Walking away, completely untouched, was Moses Han.
He had a thoughtful frown on his face as he pondered his next move.
Based on the latest communication from his fellow Mananabas, all but one of the assassins remained - Ang Guro. Dealing with him would be a headache, but it had to be done. A message needed to be sent. An example made to prove a point - no one messes around with the Mananabas.
As for Celestina Romero? Dealing with that woman was trickier, to be honest. An oath sworn is an oath kept, after all. Even after his death. Moses Han was a man of his word.
There is an old medieval sport which survives in France, Belgian, Germany and Switzerland: water jousting.
However this is both a niche sport and one which isn't united and which practice change from regions to regions. From the lenght of the lances to the number of rowers and the shape of the boat, through whether the jousters have a shied or nor and where they are allowed to touch with which penalties.
I mean, that's not nessecarily inherently a problem? The only restriction I can think of you'd need is "Make sure the torps are duds before you start hitting each other with them" and even destroyers would generally accept that restriction, since killing each other's not actually the aim.
[OST: STARSECTOR – Random Assortment of Things Mod - Exotech Expansion – Phantom of the Fringe]
An eye-less, serpentine head reached up to the upper shelves of the bookshelf made of black Abyssal carapace and retrieved a book from it with its mouth, and then deposited it into a waiting hand of its 'owner'.
"Thanks Tran." The Re-class said in gratitude as she took the book with one hand and scratched her tail's back with another, "That is the last one she requested."
Tran purred at the attention given, and the Re put down the book in the pile inside the secure-waterproof container made out of the same carapace-like material as the bookshelves were.
Not that the waterproof feature would be necessary, as that was used when the new books and other valuable documents were brought in from whatever ill-fated ship, coastal library or a library inside a ship they were pillaged from.
The Re-class then frowned as she perused the contents of her haul.
"But why does she need these for?" She asked herself, muttering, for among the books were the titles such as…
The Holy War against the Accelerationist Idolatry and its self-proclaimed prophet, the Ascension High Priestess
"Where some ancient, off the rocker Princess tried to 'birth' a Goddess that was more 'defined' and 'closer' to the Abysskind than the too broad and distant Abyss, via a mass murder hysteria…" She commented to Tran.
Excommunication Era: The Strife of the Nineteen Temples of the Six Hierarchs
"One of the bigger periods of Abysskind fragmentation, in these parts at least…" The Re continued commenting.
The Final Conclave: The decline and death of the overarching religious leadership (and its status as dejure First Among Equals) among the Abysskind
'All the juicy details on how the Spiritual Heads were gutted with the bang and then died with protracted whimpers…" She idly continued.
The Sevenfold Schism of the Hindmost Creche, Volume VIII out of XI
'…Waves were Battles… Battles were Waves… Great-Mother-Crouched-Behind-the-Throne… that one was confusing…' The Re muttered.
Symposium on the matter of the Inner Abyss among the Powerful and its status in relation to Abyss proper
The Re flinched at that one, trying not to think about what her Princess did after perusing it in the past.
Sensing the Re's discomfort, Tran nuzzled into her, and the Abyssal returned the kind gesture with more scratches.
With the murky thoughts banished away, the Re looked over the rest of the books, and noted the obvious shared detail between them.
"They are all about religion and religion-adjacent philosophy, with religion-driven history, both Human and Abyssal…" The Re noted with a frown, "Did the Princess found a higher calling or something?"
She paused to process that sarcastic thought and the implications thereof.
And both she and Tran promptly shuddered from the top of their respective heads, the shivers meeting in the middle.
It was a particularly strange feeling.
"I sincerely hope not, Tran." The Re conferred to her tail which she hugged with one tail.
Nevertheless, with all asked for books on the portable container and seeing no point in delaying, she exited the library/vault that was effectively a detachable module her often migratory Princess dragged around with her, securely locked it behind her, and moved through the black, sterile halls to her destination, Tran growling more the closer she came.
A door, a black-carapaced barrier just like any other in this hall, but whose occupant made it all more menacing…and irritating.
The Re-class took a breath, and raised her hand to knock.
She didn't even touch the metal before a voice sounded out from inside.
"Come in!"
Gritting her teeth, the Re grasped the handle and opened the door.
And entered the brightly lit, personal study of her Princess.
Surrounded by piles of books and documents both stacked high and toppled down, with various gadgets lying on the floor in an organized chaos, her superior was hunched over her desk, frantically examining various tomes while writing down various observations and notations.
And connected to her bare back were various tubes that were more akin to blood vessels, the other ends sprouting from the… things that at one point were of several Imp variations.
But now, they were looked like disfigured clumps of grey-and-black mass on visibly grafted four-to-six canine-like legs that were designed to move along with the Princess without any conscious input from the mind.
To serve as glorified IV poles for the Mad Research Princess, whose latest 'rebirth' came with unexpected complications.
Unconsciously, the Re's hand went to her abdomen, over the life that one day in the future would kill her.
And as she felt the various scars and the rather unconcerned repair work under her hand, she knew she would not survive the second time.
Her unexpected clinging to the thin thread of life the first time, despite being burst open from the inside with most of her vital energies rapidly syphoned to hasten said bursting, had intrigued the still viscera-covered Mad One just enough to get her on life support, and later to undergo a 'reconstruction', to study the aftereffects of the 'afterbirth'.
Should've let her die and not suffer the indignities that followed.
"Got the books, Repository?" The Princess asked without looking up from her work.
One of which, as her anger spiked at being called that, both her and Tran biting their lips, was the mangling of her name.
Repose.
Repose and Tranquility, named by their original Princess after hundred days (something about mimicking the surfacers' old but possibly resurfacing custom of not naming their babes on birth due to high mortality rates), for their unusual, by Re standards at least, calm demeanor and the definitely more strange habit of literary pursuit.
But years after being… lent to the Mad Research Princess as payment for services rendered, there was little reason or even ability to stay calm.
At least she got assigned to be the caretaker of the Princess' rather extensive collection, even if her preference was what got her that nickname.
"…Yes, right here." She said after calming herself down, walking around the most likely dead-in-mind imps and wheeled the container to beside the Princess.
"Thank you." She said, putting down a pen and reaching out to pluck a book out, "Ahhh, the Symposium, that one inspired me quite a bit..." She wistfully said as she flipped through the pages, "..Such as shame it didn't work out."
"…Making some kind of spatial gate out of an Abyssal… while she was still alive… was a bit far-fetched." Repose sardonically replied.
For a moment, it looked like the has-been-imps stilled for a moment, muscle memory preparing them for violence.
"Sure, in retrospect." The Research Princess off-handedly replied as her eyes speed-red the book, "But the theory was sound!"
"That the Inner Abyss inside the Abyssals, that the select few can mentally dive into, is an actual physical space in the Abyss itself?" The Re continued unabated, "And thus, can be travelled to with the Abyssal as a focal point?"
"Exactly, Repository!" The Mad One complained, ignoring the sarcasm and the grimace, "It should've worked, instead of breaking down."
How quaint, describing the Abyssal being sucked into herself, several times over, and collapsing into a black hole-like thing that thankfully was extremely short-lived, as breaking down.
Coincidentally, it was also when Repose got the short end of the stick when the Mad One died from the all too foreseeable disaster.
It also, to Re's chagrin, gave them a mockery of a familial link that made the Princess…softer on her, if that was even the right word, considering what she did to her anyway.
That 'Daughter' died to one of her many fool-hardy schemes a long time ago, but some of that lenience, along with her implanted parasite being set to low priority, still remained, and which Repose used to talk back like right now.
'But that is all it is, just talk…' The Re thought self-depreciatively, 'All bark and no bite…'
"Nevermind that, what do you even want these for?" The Re changed the subject, pointing at the religious literature.
The Mad Research Princess closed the book right then, and worryingly did not continue to multitask.
"You see, Repository, when I was at MU, I had a…" The Princess paused, "…an enlightening revelation, so to say."
"About what?" Repose asked, silently thankful that the Princess did not take her to that disastrous expedition, citing a need for heavy firepower for home-defense.
The Mad One was silent for a while.
"…That's the thing, I can't recall it." She admitted.
"Was it so profound that it fried your brain?" The Re retorted.
"...Yes, actually." The Princess confirmed, to the Re's surprise, "But I have to correct a misconception you probably have right now."
"Which is?"
"It is not that I forgot." The Princess explained, "It is that I cannot recall without hemorrhaging my grey matter out."
'…What a pretty sight that would be…' Repose thought.
Heedless of Re's opinion and as if to demonstrate, the Mad Research Princess closed her eyes.
Soon, her brow creased in stress, she bit her lip, hands tightly clenched.
Then the oily blood came, first from the nose, then from the bitten lip, from pierced palms, from the ears and closed eyes.
And all the while, the IV-Imps started trashing with greater and greater intensity as the rate of extraction exponentially increased.
They had no mouths, and the Re wasn't a mind-reader, but she could feel their screams all the same.
By the time the Princess stopped, many of them lied still.
"…Nothing." The Mad One said in irritation as she wiped the blood from her face, "The answers to the fundamental questions regarding our universe, the secrets behind the very fabrics of life and death, so close I could nearly see them as if they were SEARED ON THE BACK OF MY EYELIDS!"
Repose nearly jumped from the outburst.
"…and yet, so infinitely far away." The Princess whispered, before raising her voice to normal levels, "Thus, with some understanding of the context I was a bit dismissive of before, I'm trying to piece it together from various bits and pieces."
"…And Faith has something do with it?" The Re asked.
"Yes, deceptively so." The Mad Research Princess answered, smiling a creepy smile, "And I think I have an idea of a lead."
That didn't reassure Repose, at all.
-
A Few Weeks Later
[OST: STARSECTOR – Random Assortment of Things Mod - Exotech Expansion – Pioneering Nomads]
Thousands of meters under the sea, Repose swam at the head of the Mad Research Princess's fleet, just slightly ahead of said (skin)labcoat-clad Princess (who expedited her repairs at the cost of the arm and leg and other organs-parts… someone else's), acting as the vanguard for her around hundred strong Armada as it floated through the Abyssal Plains.
'A rather sorry excuse of an Armada.' She thought with a grimace, not for the first time, as she glanced back.
The Princess's Regulars, Veterans and the Elite, what few of them remained in the local reserve after the good chunk of them died at MU, comprised a small part of the whole, spread among the force acting more as commissars, herders and slavemasters than proper officers.
The rest of the Submarine/Destroyer-heavy fleet were fresh recruits, as in literally fresh, mass decanted from the Ironwomb tanks that the Princess made as a supplement to the Installations' production, what with her reputation greatly reducing the recruiting prospects outside of the desperate, the foolish and those who owed the Mad One in debt or favors (aka the desperately foolish).
In this case, though, all the local cell's Installations died from the Princess's anomalous, repeated rebirths following the MU debacle, and other 'loyal' Installations were too far away at the moment, so the Ironwomb output was cranked up to make up for lost numbers, with an expected drop in quality.
And even after undergoing extensive (and rejection-prone) cyber/bio-enhancements and going through 'accelerated' training via mental imprinting (that the Re wasn't sure actually worked), that on paper would've made them individually better than an average battle-weathered feral right out of the gate, the lack of actual combat experience and cohesion as a unit would made them easy pickings if they encountered an enemy with a bone to pick.
The only reason they haven't been jumped by said bone-pickers is because they were currently in the middle of nowhere, far away from the usual and even unusual traffic.
Speaking of which…
"Where are we going, anyway?" Repose asked the Mad Research Princess through the radio, both for operational security and just in case the Mad One babbles something out that could upset the mob, "Because as far as I know, there is absolutely nothing here of note for miles."
"And you would be right, Repository." The Princess off-handedly responded, thankfully also on the radio, "Nothing but slightly uneven sand broken by occasional hill and seafloor nature."
Tran growled, making the Re's feeling known before she voiced them.
"…Then WHY… are we here?" Repose asked with some restraint.
"You'll know soon enough." The Mad One gave an amused non-answer, "But do be vigilant for ghosts."
The Re huffed in annoyance, but did start giving her radar greater attention, for the Princess was referring to what many who waded this deep called the Radar Ghosts.
Blips that stayed in the same relative position no matter how fast or slow one moved and no matter the direction…
Blips that moved around, only to swim away unnaturally fast when one attempted to examine them in greater detail… or find a Shipgirl or Abyssal wreck that was long, long dead.
Blips that came close… if the radar was to be believed, for the eyes found nothing where the contact should've been.
Those example and others, uttered by drunks in the watering holes and dismissed as sloshed ravings, until one experiences them for themselves.
"We better not be chasing ghosts, Tran, figuratively, literally or otherw-!"
She felt it, a wave-like and strangely familiar sensation passed around her, before her Radar pinged.
Showing a very, very large blip, moving at speeds that should've been impossible at that size.
Towards them.
Well, not directly at them, but the rabble-fleet panicked regardless, breaking ranks and sowing chaos.
"Get them under control!" Repose ordered to the minders, who started doing just that with various levels of callousness, and then turned to the Mad One, who barely reacted to the whole commotion, "Princess! We need to mo-"
"It's gone, Repository." She stated simply.
"…Huh?" The Re replied eloquently, before looking at the Radar and seeing that yes, the contact disappeared.
"We will move towards its last known location." The Princess ordered, unconcerned, "As soon as the girls are done with bashing in skulls."
Looking back, Repose saw to her unsurprised irritation that the things were quite well in the 'The Beatings Will Continue Until Discipline Improves' mode, with quite a few dead already.
A short while later, after everything was sorted out and reorganized, they arrived at what would've been just another part of the featureless plains.
If not for what seemed like a dark haze covering the area.
"What is that?" The Re asked over the radio, "And what was that, earlier?"
"I'm fairly confident in my answer." The Princess replied, "But just to be sure, I'm going to move in."
With that, the Mad Research Princess started swimming towards the haze.
"H-hey, are you trying to get yourself killed!?" Repose complained, moving to try and stop the Princess. Not out of concern, but because suddenly 'playing' a game of 'Who gets to be the new Mommy for a few seconds?' would very counterproductive right now.
To no avail, for she reached and grabbed the Mad One just as the Princess's fingers grazed the mirage-like phenomenon.
[OST STOP]
It rippled.
And the next thing the Re knew, suddenly on the sea floor and on her knees, was the sharp increase in water pressure bearing on her hull.
She gritted her teeth, Tran whining, enduring as her superstructure felt like it was bending in all the wrong ways from the strain.
In time, she adjusted to the new burden.
And in her now pain-free vision, she saw that she was elbow deep in… red snow?
[OST: STARSECTOR – Random Assortment of Things Mod - Abyssal Depths Expansion – That Which Once Was]
'No, not actual snow.' She realized, 'Marine Snow'.
A detritus of plankton, plants and even dead animals that slowly sank to the bottom the ocean, the main source of nourishments in the sunless deeps, that often looked like gently falling snow, hence the name.
Except she never saw one so dense that it was pilling up quickly.
She stood up, the 'snow' falling off from her, and had nearly fallen back down due to the how strong the currents were, which should've been impossible this deep. After stabilizing herself, she looked around.
It was a veritable blizzard, and what little she could see in the red-tinted darkness beyond the storm of particles was the large crimson moon that bathed the world in red, surrounded by the vast, cloud-like concentration of gases, that she was sure weren't supposed to light up like they had lightning inside them.
And despite all of that, something about it all felt all too familiar.
"Fascinating, is it?" The Re heard the Mad One nearby, "When realities intersect."
She looked around for the Princess, and saw her, infuriatingly, quite casually standing while her coat billowed in the heavy currents, unbothered by the forces of nature around her as she observed them.
She swallowed her retort to seek an answer.
"I-is this… the ABYSS?" Repose asked with trepidation.
The Mad Research Princess chuckled.
"No, no, no its not, Repository!" The Mad One corrected, giggles dying down, "If this was THE Abyss, it wouldn't have been so easily accessible to begin with, for the environment would've reacted quite noticeably all the way to the surface and beyond. Besides, if this was the real deal, be it the world of infinite stillness or of endlessly raging torrents or an ecosystem that makes the alien-like deep-sea creatures look mundane in comparison, you wouldn't even question it, you would know immediately, deep down. "
The Princess punctuated the last point by patting her chest.
"No, what you see before you is a layer of reality in-between." The Mad One spread her arms wide, "A border-realm of sorts, be it something that already existed or something completely shaped by the edges of our reality and that of Abyss converging, that serves as a buffer and absorbent for most of the energies flowing back and forth, though I imagine that most of those are the result of the Abyss acting up."
"Act…up?" The Re questioned.
"Hmm, I could explain it by comparing to how the movement of tectonic plates can cause earthquakes and tsunamis despite their glacial speeds, but let's use a more… understandable analogy." The Princess mused with a finger on her chin, "Imagine a continent sized titan sleeping on the ocean floor, what happens when one of its country-sized pinkie fingers involuntary twitched by a giant equivalent of a millimeter?"
"…A whole lot of water displaced, and all that entails?" The Re tentatively answered.
"Correct!" The Mad One confirmed with a smile "Further complicated by the fact that the titan is a psychic that can alter reality around it with its mind, and the reality itself in which the Titan sleeps is quite malleable and responsive to that."
"…Huh?"
"And depending on the interpretation, the Titan's body and the Reality could be one and the same, so things can get quite interesting when the Titan has stomach cramps or, more intriguingly, has a nightmare and thu-"
"You're losing me and/or going off on a tangent!" Repose interrupted, "But what I think what you're trying to say is, is that whatever something happens in the Abyss can cause a ripple effect that goes through here and can potentially reach our world?"
"…Yes, though most would miss the results of those ripples unless they knew where to look." The Princess resumed, less animated.
"... And that huge Ghost blip, and the opening it left in its wake, was one of those results." The Re surmised, "So now that we here, what are supposed to do? Observe and collect data, extract materials for study and exploitation?"
"Oh you silly Re, we barely even started." The Mad One chided with a smile, "Luckily, we can still go back to our own layer, so go collect our forces and get back here, we have a journey to undertake."
Tran growled while Repose looked back at the heavy storm all around them, then looked back at the Princess.
"In this blizzard?" She asked, already knowing the answer.
"Yes, and?" Was the Princess's short reply.
-
Hours/Days(?) Later
[OST: STARSECTOR – Random Assortment of Things Mod - Abyssal Depths Expansion – Echoes of the Depths]
The Armada trudged through knee deep red-tinted 'snow' of tiny dead matter, through the wind-like currents that fought against them, the cold light of the crimson moon paradoxically feeling like scorching heat to their wearied minds, all of them miserable except for the Mad Research Princess, who Repose suspected was constantly on stimulants with no regard for her current body's impending crashdown and addiction.
This trek started bad when many did not survive the transition through the haze, dying to sudden pressure, and got worse when some refused on the spot to move further and wanted out, which the Mad One 'magnanimously' allowed.
'You'll serve as nearby, outside spawn points for me, then.' She replied, unperturbed.
No one was happy to hear that.
And then they found out that due to the Blizzard, they were effectively grounded, forcing them to walk through the high-stacked snow to wherever the Princess was leading them to.
Fortunately, they got at least some cover from the elements when they reached a forest, if the mass of rooted, weathered, at minimum ten-story tall giant tube worms could be could called that.
Unfortunately, it presented new problems.
One that they found a hard way that a few of these giant worm 'trees' were carnivorous, camouflaged to look like their harmless fellows. Seeing a Destroyer leaning against the 'bark' to rest, only for said 'surface' to sprout teeth and snap shut, piercing the carapace through and killing the Abyssal instantly put the already stressed fleet on the edge.
The other was, of course, all other fauna that was sheltering here from the storm.
"Diediediediediediediedie-" The Re kept repeating like a mantra while launching torpedo after torpedo at what could be described as an Abyssal plankton the size of a car with too many teeth, with the Princess comparing them to copepods as the closest visual match among the normal sealife.
They picked off exhausted stranglers, those who lagged behind and those went off course in these low-visibility conditions.
And when these giant planktons were forced into open battle or worse, initiated it themselves, their deaths left a nasty surprise.
They decomposed, or rather, split up into smaller, fish-sized planktons, that either swarmed whoever 'killed' them like twisted piranha, stripping them of huge chunk of metal/flesh the first few times, or scurried off to be engulfed by a bus-sized enemy plankton, which after a short while vomited out a reassembled, if slightly smaller version of the defeated foe that dove back into the fray.
The Princess' comments about natural Grey Goo were not welcome.
Thus the current usage of weapons with high blast radius on the already fallen bodies.
Repose stopped, and waited as she watched the blasted to bit remains with hawkish eyes.
Less than a dozen plankton-fish, out of the usual more than a hundred, had decoupled and sailed away, not to one place, but scattering in different directions, a welcome sign that there was no meaningful opposition left.
Any kind of relief was dwarfed by the checking the rest of the battlefield, making her teeth clench while Tran whined.
So she stomped over to the Princess, who had her eyes glazed, a sure sign that she was busy checking maps and notes and blueprints on her bridge.
Instead of dealing with the battle's aftermath.
"How much further… we. have. to. go?" The Re demanded through gritted teeth.
The Princess did not immediately reply.
"We're actually nearly on top of our goal." She replied, eyes still glazed, "At worst, the margin of error puts us at 9/10 of the way."
"…That's… great… but what about the return trip?" Repose asked, not letting the unexpected good news to cloud her, gesturing with one hand around her, "Because there is no way in Deep Hells that we can go back through all of that with just 20 or so of us left, out of nearly 100 we started with!"
Her hand pointed at the sorry remains of their Armada, most of de-facto meatshield recruits dead, their remains strewn across the field already getting buried by the heavy snowfall, their handlers heavily wounded and frankly out of it, some of them lying down and letting the snow bury them alive.
The Mad Research Princess's eyes unglazed, and looked at the Re with a rather blank expression.
"What Return Trip?" She sardonically asked, as if responding to the most idiotic question she ever heard.
Tran growled.
"…How did you plan to get out of here, then?" Repose asked, hands clenching.
"Dear Repository, do you really have to ask when you already know?" The Mad One rhetorically and mockingly asked, patting at the Re's stomach.
Tran snapped at the offending hand, the Princess pulling back the hand just in time to avoid losing fingers.
"Quite feisty today, aren't we?" The Princess stated with amusement, "But please do calm down, so that we can return to more constructive ma-!"
She stopped, eyes wide, mouth open agape and bend over, courtesy of the fist driven hard onto her stomach.
Repose retracted her hand, letting the Princess fall on her knees and start a coughing fit, spitting out black, oily blood into the red-tinted water before her.
The Re dispassionately looked down on the Princess, silent and still, ignoring the stares she got from the rest of the Abyssals.
"Wh-what do you…*Cough*…"The Mad Research Princess started, "Do you think y-you're*Cough*…d-doing?"
Instead of answering, Repose turning around and started walking away.
"G-going*Cough* somewhere..." The Mad One cleared her throat, standing up, "…In this weather?"
"As far as away from you as possible." The Re said as she stopped by one of the dead fleet members, one of the few heavy cruisers they had, and rummaged through her holds for supplies.
The Princess laughed at that.
"You of all people should know that is impossible." The Princess stated, chuckling, "Besides, you just complained not having numbers for the trek back, or do you expect to somehow slip by your twosome?"
"Not having you rambling like a lunatic for all to hear would certainly increase my chances, yes." Repose retorted.
The Mad One scoffed.
"And if by unlikely, miniscule chance you do make it, what do you expect to find?" The Princess asked derisively, "There is a reason I didn't bother planning for the walk back."
'Because you got the reincarnation express on demand?' Was what Repose wanted to say back, but she understood the implication.
And if the sharp turning of heads was any indication, she wasn't the only one.
"…The haze-portal we entered through… its gone, isn't it." The Re asked, deadpan, briefly stopping her preparations.
"But of course." The Mad One answered, "After all, if nature didn't abhor abnormalities like that, the whole seafloor would've been nothing but a portal to places like these."
The more or less confirmation that they were on the one-way trip rippled through the despondent survivors.
"What do you mean there is no way back!?"
"What is a point if we cannot return!?"
"I was promised power, not a suicide run!"
"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!"
"I'm gonna kill you over and over and over!"
That last one came from a Chi-class light cruiser, one of the more impetuous ones among the fleet, rapidly moving towards the Princess on her symbiotic platform with her arm-cannon charging up.
The Mad Research Princess, took one glance at the approaching insubordinate and rolled her eyes.
"For I have tasted the fruit." The Mad One stated, no, recited.
The lower part of the Chi-class exploded.
And the upper, humanoid part was flung away by the force, and conveniently for the Princess, right into one of the carnivorous 'trees'.
The mob, stopped dead cold by the sudden execution, stayed still as the cruiser screamed as it was eaten alive.
Until Repose had Tran put a shell right into the eye-opening of the cruiser's face/mask, putting her out of her misery.
"Anybody else has something to say?" The Mad One addressed the silent fleet, "No? Good, now where were we, Repository?"
"Killswitches, really?" Repose asked, "Didn't you drop that idea after the mess during the Timor Sea Reprisals?"
"Just because one Crazy Re had a vocal range to make her sound like me and an ability to spout thousands of words a minute, doesn't mean an application is fully out of consideration." The Princess replied, visibly indignant at the reminder of how the majority of her fleet got splattered that one time, "Just limited to most mutinous elements and those I found to be distasteful as potential future hosts, though now I find myself regretting that I didn't put something like that in you."
"And the embryo is not enough?" The Re sarcastically asked.
"Apparently not." The Mad one replied with a sniff, "And since the stick is not working with you, how about a carrot instead?"
Repose raised an eyebrow.
"The destination of this expedition, is an Ancient Abyssal City, and within a Venerable Temple." The Mad One started unprompted, "Full of priceless wisdom and knowledge of the ancients that, in worst case scenario, I planned to mentally smuggle out in my mind upon my 'demise'."
"Naturally." Repose scoffed.
"But the less interesting part, but definitely more relevant to you lot." The Princess continued, "Is that it is full of abyssal energies, accumulated over the countless millennia and concentrated deep within its vaults!"
She spread her arms wide.
"Enough to jumpstart any of you sorry lot to become something grander than the Elders, or even the so-called Empress in the north Atlantic!" The Mad One proclaimed, "Claim it, and getting out of here will be the least of your concerns!"
The Fleet stirred, whispering and muttering.
'The appeal to power certainly had their monkey neurons activated.', Repose thought, unimpressed, "All while imaging the ways that power might free them of her grasp."
"Assuming it is all true." She commented.
"Every source, between the lines, context and fact-checking led to me believe that it is true." The Princess replied, "And so is the assumption that it will not be unguarded."
"And you want me to help you with that." Repose surmised.
"The alternative is that If I and the rest die in the next few hours to due lack of heavy support…" The Mad One emphasized, "You might find yourself spontaneously birthing while searching for the exit that isn't there anymore."
The Re stayed silent for a while.
"Then I hedge on the possibility that it hasn't closed yet, or search for the new one." Repose stated, turning away, "And if I get popped open by you again… well, I want to see if I can strangle you in the 'crib' with my own innards."
And she started walking away, Tranquility rudely barking out her goodbyes.
"…Suit yourself." The Mad Research Princess said and turned away herself, "Let's see who will die first, shall we?"
-
Sometime Later
[OST: STARSECTOR – Random Assortment of Things Mod - Abyssal Depths Expansion – Impending Presence]
The Mad Research Princess' reduced fleet travelled through the tube worm forest, and true to her earlier assessment the trek towards their goal thankfully did not take long, with the now wary fleet taking only a single casualty along the way, a fresh-grown recruit submarine at that.
Thus, about two dozen abyssals reached the 'forest line', the thinning density of the trees allowing them to see out.
From one forest into another.
Giant crystalline-like coral dominated the view as far as the eyes/rangefinders can see, all the way up the cliff of the nearby seamount, dominantly white with violet-to-purple accents, contrasted by the red marine snow that piled up at the roots and on their tops, in lesser amounts due to being shielded from the worst of the storm by giant tube worm forest on one side and the seamount cliff on another.
It was a striking, beautiful sight that sadly was lost to some.
"Where is the damned city you talked about?" Asked one of the increasingly unloyal subordinates, "There is nothing but coral around!"
The Mad One sighed, already lamenting the sharp drop of IQ with Repository's departure.
"Really, you cannot see it?" The Princess asked while gesturing, "How the corals are grouped and divided together, how the upper portions clearly allow for streamlined traffic flow, how those particular tall ones are placed and spread for optimal surveillance and so on?"
The Abyssals under her blinked, and looked back at the coral forest and after a while, sure enough, distinct 'Districts' became apparent, that the Corals were actually buildings with entrances and windows, connected by roads and passages between them, occasionally disturbed by ruins caused by passage of time.
"If this is a city…" Another of the subordinates asked, pointing far, at the cliffside that part of the city ended at, "Would that be the Temple, or something just as big-time?"
The Coral mass that the Abyssal pointed at, that grew out of/was planted at the cliff of a seamount, was noticeably larger than the surrounding ones, was placed quite higher than others on the cliff and, more eye-catchingly, veered quite heavily into violet-purplish hues.
"And that would be primary target, if only to confirm that." The Mad One stated, "Cruisers, on me, the rest of you, scout ahead and look out for anything of interest."
And so they swam through the city towards the apparent temple, with the destroyers and submarines swimming ahead to look out for trouble and, more commonly, to see if there was loot around.
A vatborn Ka-Class submarine was rummaging through one of the Coral building's interiors, an annoyed growl coming out of her rebreather as anything remotely shiny or useful has long since decayed and rusted away. She harshly closed shut an equivalent of a carved-in closet or wardrobe, letting out a frustrated sigh as she leaned against it, closing her visible eye.
Only for it open wide when she felt something behind her, sharply turning around.
Only to see, through the window, another of her fellow submarines exiting a building across the 'street'.
She let out a breath, and moved to get out to search elsewhere… not hearing or dismissing the sound of fabric against water.
Elsewhere, a late-model I-Class destroyer scouted ahead, the orca-like abyssal on the lookout for any possible threat.
It rolled and turned when it heard something out of the ordinary, only to relax when it saw that it was just a small coral branch, snapped cut from under its own weight and age and now gently falling towards the snow below, to buried along the detritus.
The destroyer turned away and resumed the recon… not seeing the branches, one after another, were subtly pushed down before going back up again.
And the among the main group of the Mad One's escorts, the more experienced cruisers could not shake the feeling that they were being watched.
To which the Princess shrugged at when reported.
"Well, obviously." She said dismissively, "I expected at least some supernatural wraiths to lurk about in the place like this."
Which didn't reassure them at all.
Despite all of the paranoia, though, they were not ambushed, misdirected, opposed or anything of sorts, and in time they reached the Temple, the grand maw-like opening into it quite obvious from up close.
And like a bad breath, a slow wind-like current came from the entrance.
A current, that flowed between the Abyssals and left them energized in its wake, was charged with Abyssal power.
"Well, if there were any doubts, I trust they were dispelled?" The Mad Research Princess rhetorically asked her subordinates, "Regroup, we are going in."
And so they entered the Temple, in search of this well of power.
Along the way, hallways of pure coral gave way to hallways of coral-adorned stone, smoothed out by the efforts of countless craftswomen, much of the surface engraved and painted in various images.
The Mad One even recognized what some of them depicted, snapshots of the most common recollections of ancient history and religious tales among modern Abysskind.
But alas, until very recently the old, dusty wife tales didn't interest the Princess, and if Repository was here she would've probably identified what each mural and engraving meant, uncommonly learned as she was with trivia.
Her escorts, on the other hand, were concerned with other things.
"Where are they!?" One of them shouted, "Stop hiding, you cowards!"
For quite a while they were surrounded by sounds of someone other than them swimming, of cloth going against the currents, of occasional contact against some surface.
Of indistinct images just out of the corner of their eyes.
"Let the voyeurs watch." The Princess derided as they entered one of the larger chambers, "If they wanted to do something about us, they shouldn't have let us into their holy site."
[OST STOP]
"We'll admit…" Came a bone-rattling voice from across the hall, that stopped them in their tracks, "…That you had gone as far as you did was negligence on our part."
[OST: STARSECTOR – Random Assortment of Things Mod - Abyssal Depths Expansion – Genesis]
On the other end of the large hall, standing before the mural depicting the personification of the ABYSS and her first children, was a tall, dark-haired Abyssal dressed in ornate, embroidered clothes, adorned in jewelry, and horns forming a halo-like shape around her head.
And surrounding her was a misty afterimage of a grand, ancient temple ship, the presence so overwhelming it made the vast room they were in feel much smaller.
"Our curiosity for the first visitors since eternity from the outside had gone better of us." The tall woman regally spoke, "But it is clear now that you have no respect for the sanctity of these grounds."
The lesser abyssals quacked in their limbs, paralyzed in the presence of the greater one who was at least on par the Elder Princesses.
Except for the Mad Research Princess, who force-flushed down the chemicals out of her systems and pumped in liquid bravery instead.
"I apologize for our transgression." The Mad One greeted with all the sincerity of a known cheat, slightly bowing her head, "But with whom do we have the honor of meeting?"
The tall Abyssal narrowed her eyes.
"You may call us… the Soaring Priestess of the Ascension Fleet." She regally introduced herself, "And who would you be, unwanted travelers?"
"I am just a humble scientist in eternal search of knowledge, called by many names, many of them unkind." The Mad One started, making a parody of curtsying, "Unrestricted, Unregulated, Unshackled Research Princess and more, but the most common moniker I have is that of the Mad Research Princess."
The Soaring Priestess focused her attention on the Princess, the latter feeling the gaze seemingly boring through her.
"The moniker certainly suits you." The Priestess commented, "And explains the Mark on you."
That caught the Mad One short.
"What Mark?" She asked.
"The Mark of those trying to reach beyond their station." The Priestess explained with a raised eyebrow, "A telltale stain on the Souls of those who tried to discern matters beyond their comprehension, and paid the ultimate prize."
Breath hitching, eyes widening, the Princess' mind for a moment bringing up the memory of when she held that invisibility cloak that wasn't one at all, the dust-enhanced senses nearly melting her brain from trying understand the impossible construct.
Of the hazy and yet searing hole in her mind just before that body melted in the volcano, the feeling akin to the largest of shells impacting and exploding on her forehead.
She fell on her knees, oily blood leaking from the nose, forcibly burying the memory deep to prevent an unnecessary death.
"…It seems you survived paying." The Soaring Priestess remarked, "But it appears that either such an event was accounted for… or death was just a byproduct for those who couldn't bear the true punishment."
The Mad One gritted her teeth, and stood up, facing the Priestess.
"I paid the prize, so I think I deserve some reward." The Princess retorted, "You certainly seem knowledgeable about my affliction and of topics that caused it, so I kindly besiege you share your wisdom with me."
The Soaring Priestess stared down on the Mad Princess, long and hard.
"…We think… not." She answered.
The Mad Research Princess's face morphed into an ugly visage from sheer anger.
"Don't you dare, you high-strung bitch!" She shouted, "The secrets of the universe and beyond are right there, infuriatingly so, on the tips of my fingers, and I WILL BE NOT DENIED!"
"And yet, you are unworthy of them." The Priestess bluntly stated, turning her back on the Mad One and her quiet entourage, "Accept that and leave."
Silence filled the hall.
And then the Mad Research Princess started chuckling.
And then laughing mad as she arced back.
"…Did you take leave of your senses instead?" The Soaring Priestess asked without looking back.
"Unworthy!?" The Mad One started, ignoring the question, "In comparison to what, the Elder Princesses!? Or you, thinking of yourself as some kind of chosen few just because you claim lineage to the mythical first Abyssals on that pretty picture!?"
She wildly gestured at the mural of the Abyssal Creation Myth, one of them at least, the silent Priestess standing before it.
"The truth is, our creation was most likely a happy accident on the part of Primordial ABYSS!" The Princess continued her tirade, "In process of doing whatever SHE did with other Primordial peers, THEY shed sweat, tears, blood, hair, outer skin tissue and other less pleasant stuff, which then intermingled with each other and other matter around them, resulting in the creation of the first, many parallel evolutionary lines of Abyssal-like beings in the manner not unlike the formation of stars and planets!"
The Priestess stood silently, but the water around her was rippling.
"And the whole chosen bit, the awesome Power you possess that you and your ancestors dress up as the reward for unfaltering dedication and piety to the ABYSS?" The Mad One kept raving, "Simply a result of one those first Abyssals becoming just barely big enough to be noticed!"
The pressure mounted in the room, with the many Abyssals starting to feel like they were collapsing from the inside.
"For you first ancestor, receiving the Blessing from the ABYSSITSELF was the greatest moment of her life." The Princess continued unabated, uncaring that she was bleeding again from the face, "But for the ABYSSHERSELF, all THEY did was to kneel down and pet a rather pushy kitten, and be amused when the kitty gave IT a love-bite."
Several Abyssals died from the sudden spike, and others tried enduring it, while the Princess still stood, high on the stimulant helping her to withstand the forces bearing on her.
And then the pressure receded, giving reprieve to the Mad One's remains of the fleet.
"Choose your next words with exceptional care." The Soaring Priestess stated coldly.
The Mad One's labored breathing was the only sound in the otherwise silent hall.
"Are you…by perchance." She started, "Related to the Ascension… High Priestess?"
The Priestess raised her head and turned back around, not expecting that question.
"Yes, we are." She answered, "Our Venerable Sister was the Eldest of the seven among us, with us the youngest."
The Mad Research Princess was silent in contemplation.
"…I see… I see." She chuckled, "That confirms it."
"…Would you kindly explain what insight you have gained from our answer." The Priestess demanded.
"Gladly, your Grace!" The Princess happily obliged, "Your power… comes with the price."
The Soaring Priestess stilled.
"It was most likely not apparent at first, and probably not considered a concern at all at the time!" The Mad One started excitedly explaining, "But all that changed… when the Primordials started taking their everlasting nap, which was a problem when your blessings depended on the constant connection." The Princess continued, "The least blessed found themselves bereft of power they took for granted, while the most blessed, the most infused with the power of the ABYSS… died when the power that effectively replaced their blood, neural cells and other bodily functions went poof."
"…Mother…" The Priestess softly whispered under her breath.
"And so those in the middle, you and your sisters and the like, devised a plan to avoid the same fate when the ABYSS's slumber would become deeper and the connection thinner." The Princess continued, uncaring, "To basically create a replacement Goddess to take over as the Abyssal Energy Pump."
The Priestess clenched her fists.
"My sources paint this plan, this Accelerationist Idolatry, as a mad scheme that required mass sacrifice of the Abyssals to the false deity." The Princess stated, "Unless the reality is different from what was written with the blood of the losers?"
"…Our Eldest Sister's noble goal would not have been accomplished by the mass gutting of mere commoners." The Priestess stated with gritted teeth, "No, for our Grand Design to bear fruit, it was necessary for of us, our sisters and many others just as blessed, to relinquish our powers for the sake of future generations."
"Let me guess, many wanted to keep their powers right to their very graves." The Mad One cheekily surmised, "And you retreated here as a result, a place closest to the ABYSS, living like a deep-sea anglerfish that would die the moment it would try surfacing above the high-pressure habitat it adapted to."
"…Short sighted fools..." The Soaring Priestess muttered.
"And so were you and your sisters." The Princess rebuked, "For thinking that someone will be stupid enough to give awa-"
"KNEEL"
The Abyssals immediately did as they were told with various levels of obedience.
A moment later, something passed above them with blinding speed and crashed hard against the walls behind them.
Those who were fully prostate with their heads and hands on ground looked up, seeing that those who bended only one knee (or equivalent) had their heads cut horizontally in half or beheaded in full, with few being scalped, oily blood squirting from the gaping wounds.
The Mad Research Princess, though, did not bend the knee… and was now trying hold herself together from sliding off.
"Insult me, berate me, slander me all you want." The Soaring Priestess angrily said as she all but stomped towards the barely standing Princess, "But to degrade and debase my sisters!?"
She stopped before the bleeding out Mad One, who desperately tried to reach towards the Priestess with one hand.
"FOR THAT, AN EVERLASTING TORMENT UPON YOU!" The Soaring Priestess shouted in rage as she grabbed the Princess's head by the face.
Blood splattered the Priestess's face.
[OST STOP]
Her own.
Eyes widening, blood gushing from her mouth, she looked down at the arm that pierced her chest.
Coming from the grinning Mad Research Princess… the fresh one sticking out from the dying one's body.
Triumphantly, the Mad One took time to 'undress' from her former carcass 'one-handed', the Priestess weakly grasping at the arm protruding from her not hindering the Princess.
With that done, the Mad Research Princess smirked, stood on her tip toes and leaned close to the Soaring Priestess' ear.
"Fatum Iustum Stultorum" She softly whispered.
The Priestess never heard of Latin in her long life, and won't realize that it was butchered Latin at that.
But deep down she knew what the Mad One said regardless.
The Just Fate of Fools
And just as the Mad One's hand started clasping, something inside… broke.
[OST: STARSECTOR – Random Assortment of Things Mod - Abyssal Depths Expansion – Primordial Waters]
The Princess' deranged smile turned downwards when the Priestess' eyes started glowing like miniature suns, and the violent release of power washed over her.
And then her arm was crushed inside the Soaring Priestess's regenerating chest.
Crying in pain, she hastily stumbled back, holding her severed limb, looking up to witness a translucent, purple-hued field rapidly expand from the Priestess.
She futilely recoiled from the fast-approaching threat, and just as the border of the field was a breath away…
And like a curtain peeling away from something that was always there, a black-clad, face-veiled, white-haired, frigate-sized Abyssal punched hard into the Mad One's gut, right where Repository punched earlier, this time literally digging in.
Coughing out oily blood, the Princess grimaced in anger and tried to backhand the bug that dared.
Only for said backhand to miss, passing through when the purple field receded around the frigate's head and upper torso, making it look like there was only half a body there.
The frigate pushed, emerging whole from that sphere and then gave a vicious roundhouse kick in the gut, at the same bloody place, launching the Mad One away.
She crashed against the wall, and when she shook away the dizziness she saw that what remained of her forces were methodically slaughtered by these frigates.
And in the center of it all, the Soaring Priestess simply stood, power emanating from her in forceful waves.
Determined to at least take the Priestess down with her, the Mad One materialized her cannons, capable of punching way above their weight due to her extensive modifications, aimed and fired.
The shells… disintegrated into dust before impact.
Before she could even gape at the futility of her efforts, she was kicked hard in the face, cratering the wall behind her.
Joined by stomps, punches and breaking holds from the other frigates, ripping her apart figuratively and literally.
It was only when the Soaring Princess approached them that they stopped, the frigates presenting her the mess that was barely recognizable as the Mad Research Princess.
"That surprised us, your little resurrection trick." The Priestess addressed the Princess, "But I'm grateful, for it pushed us towards the edge that we were… hesitant to cross."
She kneeled.
"Furthermore, now that we realized how it works…" She leaned in towards the Mad One's ear, the frigates helpfully, and painfully, raising her up for convenience.
"We know how to make your deathpermanent." She softly whispered, and stood up.
The bruised mass that was the Mad Research Princess did not react at first, then started shaking, then trashing against the frigates that held her, screaming with a ruined throat.
"Farewell." The Priestess raised her hand, covered in Abyssal fire, and rapidly brought it down…
Repose woke up to sound of waves rolling and the feeling of a slimy tongue licking her face, tiredly opening her eyes to the sight of the cloudy blue sky above.
She stared blankly, not comprehending what exactly was wrong with the image.
Then her eyes widened, and she hastily sat up, only to wince as pain spiked from her abdomen.
"T-Tran, what h-happened?" She asked, fighting through the pain, "H-How did we g-got ou-!?"
She, a bit more carefully now, pulled her clothes away from her middle… and saw burn marks there.
And the absence of something else.
"H-How….urgh!" Repose grabbed at her head, and remembered.
Of failing to slip by the murderous fauna.
Of the ensuing last stand.
Of leaning against the thankfully non-carnivorous giant tube worm, she and Tran waiting for the final moment.
Only for the Water to Break, to her irritation.
And in the next moment, a small, black-clad figure appearing out of nowhere and driving a flaming hand into her guts.
She blacked out from that.
"B-but… how did we end up here?" Repose asked her tail again, looking around, seeing that she was on a beach on some island.
Tranquility had no answers for her, just as confused as Repose is.
The Re lied back down, staring at the clouds again.
"We are…" She started, hesitant of finishing the sentence "… Free?"
Tran gave an affirmative bark.
They lied in silence like that for a while.
"…What are we going to do from now on?" Repose asked.
In another underwater base, Abyssals stared as the freshly reborn Mad Research Princess, who this time underwent a rather standard rebirth.
Despite that, she continued to kneel in the guts of the unlucky Abyssal, blankly staring at the nearby wall, still a bit catatonic from her first brush with true death in the long time.
-
A/N: An idea came from playing Starsector with the "Random Assortment Things" mod, the Abyssal Depths area and the final boss within directly inspring the place and the Priestess. But what actually made me sit down and write was Starsector itself getting an update, which among other things includes two new end-game enemy types, one of which...
WARNING FOR EPILEPSY SENSITIVE: The below video has the game's full Whiteout Screen setting toggled on for when ships explode. All other videos on youtube without that have optimized fleets styling on the new enemies, defeating the point of the demonstration.
Research Princess: "I'm... afraid?"
Research Princess: "No... Fear has... Fear has no place... in a being like me..."
Research Princess: "It has to die... Somehow, it has to die..."
Research Princess: "I... I will return... in my full majesty... with new powers gained. And it... it will die. Permanently. Afraid."
Research Princess: "Somehow..."
Research Princess: "..."
Research Princess: "Right-o, to work everyone! The secrets of the Abyss aren't going to unlock themselves!"
...doesn't the shedding of virgin blood usually mean consummating a marriage, as it were? In other words, Hestia and Flora can't afford to lose their virginity.
Let's just say that both Flora and Hestia Carrow will have their first blood shed by a Tudor Lance in a few years. But yeah, it's a bit of 'renewal of ties between the King and the Land' like you see in a lot of cultures.
Got bored after work and started going through my playlists just to zone out (you REALLY don't want to know how stressful things are at any place running international packaging services - Fedex, Amazon, UPS, etc - right now). Came up with another list for character themes.
As an aside, remember how I wrote a guy booping a Terror Bird? I got a great example of him. View: https://www.youtube.com/shorts/1nZVdRsfxSY
So... a Terror Bird isn't really that far out there.
