[X] Umbrella Prequel part 3
-[X] Help the girl…
--[X] Contact the girl in a dream and give her four options, 1) you will leave although you will provide food and water so she can maintain her health, 2) you will guide someone sympathetic to her, 3) Offer her employment as an agent of yours, you will provide payment and a basic education for her, 4) Offer her a more long term employment offer whereby you will train her to fight and become stronger. During this you will take a form that won't scare her. Finally when she wakes up she will have a single coin from Yggdrassil in her hand… one of the second design
-[X] Physical Action
--[X] Steal a map, copy it, and once this is done return the map before anyone realises it is missing
--[X] Study the Holy Kingdom while asking for the NPC's opinions, particularly those with leadership lore/fluff, such as Lord Adorable, Elantra, Velgath, Kaori, and perhaps Anne?
--[X] Think about how to start a company an what would be reasonable trade good, perhaps medicine?
-[X] Biomantic Projects
--[X] Create a Silthilar and try to optimise its flesh craft abilities for both healing and combat
--[X] Create a Holy Gryphon with the energy bolt attacks, similar to those ones from dark siders.
--[X] Can Wizzomatic utilize his newfound lack of limits to create an equivalent to the Resident Evil Herbs
-[X]NPC Orders: (∞)
--[X] Have Ichika watch the Re-Estize Kingdom's port so that more information can be gathered about how people are treated, and she may use stealthy npc and mercenaries for a closer look. She is to alert us of any violent activity in the region.
*
Telepathy.
Wizzomatic had to test it again on a different vector; on a drunk sailor in the lower deck. Where the man's brain was in real space, Wizzomatic felt a mist of stray neuron activity. The brain was poisoned by alcohol, incapable of advanced comprehension and stuck in a blissful state.
The man's thoughts were primitive in this state. He didn't think in words currently, he wasn't 'monologuing internally,' as one might. In this reverie, all he had were hazy images, and distant sounds, concepts without form, pure thought undiluted by the medium; very raw and unrefined neural processes. He felt happy. He didn't need to imagine happiness, the dopamine in his brain told him that he was happy, so he was, and his body reflected it, his muscles twisting to form a wide, satisfied, and yet beautifully serene smile on his face.
Wizzomatic couldn't ever afford to drink too much in his human life, but he could appreciate this sailor happened to be a calm type of drunkard.
But, in this state, primitive, unrefined, raw, could Wizzomatic force his presence into the drunk's mind and activate some parts of the brain to draw knowledge from them? Review thoughts the man couldn't think in this state?
How would he interact with dreams?
Wizzomatic cast [Sleep] on him and decided to find out. Once he gathered sufficient data, the invisible mind flayer left the drunk to his dreams and walked the tight corridors of the ship, invisible. When someone crossed his path, he redirected them away with subtle effects; a desire to stop and look into a room, a strong telekinetic gust of wind, or a weird noise.
He made his way into the captain's room. Said captain was an obese, well-dressed merchant. He had one of those white renaissance-style, puffed collars, and his garments were silky and contained traces of purple color, though were predominantly yellow and red. He wore leather gloves, as he wrote some kind of financial reports, and his thoughts revealed they made a lot on this cruise. There was a very characteristic feeling of satisfaction to obtaining a lot of items or currency which Wizzomatic had already learned to associate, despite how little he spent in this world, and this man was living that emotion, bathing in it.
Wizzomatic approached a nearby desk and looked at the convenient map displayed on it. One [Create Greater Item] later, and he made a mostly perfect copy. Accurate enough to be useful, at least. He rolled it up and put it into his dimensional inventory.
Wizzomatic then walked back to Carmine, the little girl, and cast [Tracker Eye]. She could be on another side of the continent now, so long as she wasn't in any other World, he could determine her whereabouts.
He'd wait for night to arrive, then scry to see if she was intending to sleep tonight. If she did, he'd make a visit in her dreams.
*
Wizzomatic was guarded against himself, or to be more precise, Ishida Koji was cautious when he felt his dark side flaring up. He knew his greed had led Cybertron to darkness, and wanted to avoid mishaps from here onward.
But the desire to make money in this world... Was it really wrong? This world had its own currency, and obviously, Cybertron would need it sooner or later.
He thought about starting a medical company, selling medicine.
There was a game in Japan, a very old series called Biohazard, which Wizzomatic heard had a different name in the west. Biohazard was the tale of the evil Umbrella Corporation and the incidents it caused by producing viral bioweapons, and in the game, the player would take on the role of someone opposing the corporation.
Or, that's what Wizzomatic knew of it. He also knew the Umbrella Corporation made genetically-modified herbal remedies, and he decided to have his hand at it.
The colors were, if he remembered, green, red, and blue. Green herbs healed, blue ones cured poison, and red ones combined with green ones to make stronger healing agents. But that was silly, so instead, he had the red herbs optimized to cure disease.
And so, Wizzomatic's laboratory shelf was now lined with twelve pots; four with green herbs, four with blue herbs, and four with red herbs. He'd artificially increased their growth and gave them over to the homunculi to plant in a garden on the 5th Floor.
Among his other projects was a Silthilar. He'd pushed the boundaries with this one, and Wizzomatic feared his creation, for what terrible madman created a creature capable of creating more creatures?... This madman, and then he revoked his mistake by optimizing it for healing and combat.
The green mist, like a deadly microbe cloud, now floated safely within a polycrystalline glass jar on Wizzomatic's desk. It was weak, still, only Level 12, but it'd grow stronger as it killed and he operated on it.
Worryingly enough, its neural structure made it hard to read its thoughts and emotions. It was like trying to go through a jumbled mess of corrupted, improperly formatted code in an attempt at discerning what it originally meant or did.
He noticed that his laboratory had been gaining a true 'wizard workshop' feel to it. When you looked at these strange items, you got the impression that they were extraordinary artifacts.
It was strange and very neat. It gave some perspective, too, to those old scenes in fantasy cartoons, where a look into a wizard's study revealed dozens of cantankerous contraptions of unknown purpose and bizarre form.
Wizzomatic decided to end the week's research on a bizarre note, crafting a Level 14 Holy Gryphon. It looked like a bald eagle and lion had a baby and then gave it a halo and its wings became angelic. The creature itself was intimidating, its yellow eyes, equally holy and predatory, staring at Wizzomatic calmly and obediently from its cage. If he wanted it to be stronger, he'd have to spend more time working on it, though.
*
Wizzomatic learned some basic facts by now, like the geography of the continent. He knew where the major factions were, what their names were, and he knew maybe a sentence-worth of description on their general state and agendas. Beyond that, he was in the blind, and as the leader of Cybertron, that had to be rectified at once.
How else to bring justice?
And as such, he invited some Guardians to a meeting, to discuss what they knew.
"Good evening, Guardians. I have called you here to assess our political knowledge. What is it that we know?" Wizzomatic asked, hands steepled, at the head of the table.
Seated to him were, closest to furthest away, and left to right: Lord Adorable, Elantra, Velgath, Kaori, and Anne-Taye De Luvian.
The last person on that list, Wizzomatic noticed only recently, had such an alien thought process that even he barely comprehended it. There were patterns, static, unchanging, to how a brain worked even in the most inhuman of monsters, but this thing didn't seem to even conform to that. Outsmarting her in conversation to appear wiser than he actually was bordered on being impossible, which is why Wizzomatic was very gladdened to see that Anne spent most of her time idling around instead of speaking.
At the question, Kaori raised her hand with a lewd grin. "I–"
"No," Wizzomatic said, shooting down her idea before she proposed it. "It's not."
"It's not what, Wizzomatic-sama?" asked Velgath, raising a brow.
"You don't want to know, Velgath."
Elantra raised an eager hand, waving it rapidly to draw his attention like a model student in class who knew the answer to a question, all while smiling brightly. What a nice daughter to have, Wizzomatic thought.
"Go," he said, giving her permission to speak.
Elantra spoke rapidly, though on topic:
"I have, using both what you told us, and the map you have provided, Wizzomatic-sama, determined that there must be a great danger to the east, between the Theocrat and Holy Kingdom territories. It is also very likely the Slane Theocracy is much stronger and capable of defending itself than the Holy Kingdom. The Theocracy's status as a superpower is corroborated by what Ichika-san says about the Re-Estize Kingdom, through the sheer value of societal development and garrison quality comparison. If I were to guess, I'd say the Re-Estize Kingdom has a very large pool of poorly-trained and underequipped soldiers, probably vastly incompetent and drawn from the general populace. The Slane Theocracy is more likely to command a smaller, more elite army, with soldiers who have experienced actual battles. This is, again, corroborated by the fact that the Re-Estize Kingdom, despite being in constant war with its neighbor, has not made any decisive moves in decades. This suggests the Kingdom suffers from political turmoil and decay, corruption among the aristocrat ranks, and general laziness when it comes to self-defense. I imagine the Slane Theocracy could conquer the Re-Estize Kingdom with ease if it tried, and why it hasn't done so is most likely due to politics, rather than a lack of desire. And speaking of the Re-Estize Kingdom, it is likely that the lower class right now is facing harsh food and water shortages and mistreatment from the ruling class; I suggest political liberation, though a full-scale invasion would also be possible, and easy with our current forces. Bringing justice to the untouchable nobles is our duty, after all –"
Wizzomatic's brain struggled to retain the information, but Elantra kept talking.
"– This brings me to the point that the Holy Kingdom is most likely somewhere between these two states. Its land is advantageous to defense, as is the wall it has erected, but it can also trade with its neighbors easily. This means their soldiers have good equipment, perhaps a bit too little combat experience. Its status as the 'Holy Kingdom' can only make me guess its soldiers have access to holy magic. Perhaps it has a paladin order or–"
"Thank you, Elantra," Wizzomatic said with finality.
"But–"
"I said
thank you." At that, Elantra calmed. To think she could go on such monologues, even if informative... A flicker of recognition crossed Wizzomatic's face, as he realized he was staring at himself, but younger by ten years. He shook off the weird feeling and looked to the rest of the table. "Anything else, anyone? No? Yes?"
Anne raised a hand.
"Go ahead."
"Can I eat the souls and minds of nobles who don't comply with our justice?" she asked, one-hundred percent serious.
Wizzomatic sighed and practically sagged at the question.
Maybe next time, I should invite Serpentireon...
"Elantra, if I'm not mistaken, most of what you said were guesses?" Wizzomatic asked wearily.
"Yes," she replied. "Though, educated guesses, as you surely know, Wizzomatic-sama."
"I'm not sure I'm quite satisfied with that," he said. "I'd like to know more about the Holy Kingdom. Concrete data."
"We'd have to send someone to gather information there," Lord Adorable cut into the conversation. He looked at the Floor Guardian Leader. "Kaori-san, my specialty is in warfare, but you know more about our staff. Do we have anyone who specializes in espionage, infiltration, and intel gathering who isn't strictly a fighter?"
"A fighter may be good on foreign territory under the risk of mishaps," she stated, then grinned. There was something off about that grin, something provocative and sensual, an insinuation or innuendo in the word 'mishaps.' "Among our best infiltrators, as you put it, are Puttiara, Elantra, and Kimba. We also have countless subordinate undead of the incorporeal type, however, they lack the intelligence to be useful in data gathering. I do believe Serpentireon may be capable of summoning some minions who excel at stealth and disguise to take care of this task. Alternatively, we can hire mercenaries. It is your choice, Wizzomatic-sama."
Everyone looked at Wizzomatic, except Anne. She was too busy thinking about the quantum electron mist that surrounded atom nuclei, and how tasty the souls of depraved noblemen must be.
*
Among a field of flowers stood a man in white robes, accentuated with gold. The interior of his sleeves seemed black, however, and his robe had a hood that was currently off his head. He looked youthful and exceptionally beautiful, with white hair and kind blue eyes, a face with shapes too dreamlike and beautiful to be true.
He stood there, in all his vagueness, reminding Carmine of a magic caster, though she only heard of them from secondhand stories and wasn't sure what to expect.
What a weird dream, she thought.
Oh, it's about to get weirder, Wizzomatic thought, not out loud though, unlike her.
"Hello, Carmine," said the magic caster.
"Hello," she answered with strange calmness and sat down on the grass, which transfigured into a wooden chair. Soon, the shapes of the world blurred, the scene changing, and Wizzomatic's body was shunted to sit down in a chair on the opposite side of a wooden table.
She had good control over her dreams, and he barely even anticipated this sudden change. Nonetheless, his dream projection kept a straight face and said, "Are you happy with your life?"
That took her off-guard.
She didn't think it, for she knew not the word for this phenomenon, but she felt that this was way too lucid for a dream. And she would be right: YGGDRASIL had spells like [Sleep], and they weren't simply a flavorful way of picking off opponents. Actual dream-affecting spells could be used, under the right conditions.
This was one of them, though Wizzomatic wasn't actively affecting her dreamscape, save to inject an avatar of himself into her dreamscape and make her lucid.
"Happy?" she mimicked his word, realizing just how self-aware she was in this dream.
Was it really a dream? She shook off the thought, and replied, still casual just weirded out: "No, not really. Who are you?"
She knew it was an insane question. Who was he? A construct of her mind, obviously; even she knew this. And yet, this formless construct had self-awareness enough to ask her how she was feeling. It had thoughts, even if those thoughts were her own, and simply outside her perception. So she could ask this bizarre, alien system what it believed itself to be, perhaps out of contextual curiosity.
"Me? I'm your path to a happy life, should you so choose," he said.
She looked at him, nonplussed, and even more weirded out by the answer her own subconscious thoughts had given her.
She was a little girl, and one with barebones education, especially in neurology. Her intellectual fringes could guess at what was happening, but not much beyond it.
"I offer four options, no more, no less." Wizzomatic raised four fingers to illustrate his point, then lowered three and left his pointing finger in the air.
"One; I leave you forever alone, only giving you some food and water if you desire, enough for you to survive."
He raised his middle finger to accompany the index, saying, "I will guide someone sympathetic to you. A balm, a friend, a good parent, a big brother or sister. Whichever you desire, and I assure they will take good care of you."
He threw his ring finger to the group and told her, "You will work for me, as my agent. In exchange, I will pay and teach you in what you want to learn."
And, the pinky finger joined the train to the insane asylum. "You will work for me, in the long-term. I'll teach you to fight, and become strong."
"Which do you prefer?" He steepled his fingers on the table, and noticed its wood blurred to a darker shade, and the room became more menacing momentarily. Her mind, it seemed, was in chaos right now, and fear was seeping into her. The wrongness cultivated by thought, the absent-minded realization that there was a stick in the mud; that maybe, just maybe, she wasn't insane and talking to herself in her dreams.
"I..."
He waited, patiently, as Carmine thought, not just about the questions, but about the nature of this dream.
The moment passed by them, seconds at first, and a minute, until she decided. She decided that if this dream isn't real, that's too bad, no harm done. But if it was? She wanted to never be hurt again, she wanted to be strong, so she nodded to herself, opened her mouth, and...
"Make sure," Wizzomatic raised a hand, interjecting, "that your decision isn't one you regret. It may become improbable to change your path after you started on it, though not impossible."
She hesitated. Carmine's expressions drooped into worry, into anxiety, and her dream reflected this. The artificial light without a source became almost absent in the room. It took her only five seconds of hesitation to decide, in total confidence.
Carmine said, "I choose four."
Wizzomatic gave her a mysterious smile and nodded. "Then, we shall see each other very soon. I'll send someone to pick you up..." His second sentence was blurry as if he was speaking through water; by the time he said 'up,' Carmine realized her eyes were open and she was awake, engulfed in a jungle of wooden crates, barrels, and textile tapestries in the cargo hold where she slept.
The transition between dream and reality was too smooth, like someone painting the real over the surreal. The lines of the dream blurred and shifted, to reveal she was already awake, somehow, or had just woken up.
And in her hand was a single coin.
Anne stared at it in a trance. It had a woman's face on one side, where the other one had... some weird, twisting lines on the other that looked almost like a dead tree, encased by a ring, or rather a serpent chasing its own tail in a circle. It had some bizarre words printed on it in an unknown language, but also the number '2126,' whatever it meant.
She closed her fingers, clenching them around the coin, as she contemplated where it came from and realized she remembered her dream, somehow. That usually didn't happen.
*
Current Universe: New World [Overlord / Canon]
There we go, Week 3 is behind us! Woop, woop!
Anyways, you should send someone to pick up Carmine and send someone to gather information in the Holy Kingdom, because most of what you know is rumors and general (as well as biased,) political beliefs from the thoughts of people on the ship, as well as what the map suggested to you. I've noticed you guys haven't done much with the NPCs of your own accord, so there you go, I gave you tasks that you can assign someone else to while you do insane Cthulhu things. Or, you can go do them yourself, no biggie, only that leaves no gratification for the Floor Guardians who want to please you.
Tough choices, no? You can only get personally involved in something a select amount of times each week. Don't be afraid to rely on your NPCs a little, but remember that if you go too far and begin lording yourself over the NPCs excessively, Ishida Koji risks slipping back into his old persona.
In other news, you've done enough mad sciencey stuff to allow you for another level of Mad Scientist. Now, all you need is to farm enough EXP to get said level. Shouldn't be too hard with tens of thousands of Re-Estize troops garrisoned in the local towns; all you have to do is give into your dark side and cast [Fallen Down] to kill everything. That shouldn't be too hard, right?
By the way, your homunculus is still collecting dust in the garage. Go order it to train, maybe? Just a suggestion.
Physical Action: (3x)
[]
[] Conquer the nearest town and bring justice to it.
[] Find out if there are any untouchable rulers you need to bring justice to.
[] Extract Carmine personally.
Biomantic Projects: (x3)
[]
[] Create a deadly unicorn with a charge ability that impales enemies upon its horn and shoots rainbow laserbeams. Also, it feeds through photosynthesis!
[] Can Wizzomatic utilize his newfound lack of limits to create and sell improved beasts of burden?
NPC Orders: (∞)
[] Which NPC?
-[]