Interlude: The End of Ursus
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Interlude: The End of Ursus
The kingdom of dreams reaches far and wide.
Many things can be seen… in this world. And now, perhaps one can grasp a vision of the present. One of the ways that the Light is shaping the world, right now. One of four.
Miss Koshelna- or, as some people call her, Fiolet, is a lecturer at an Ursus university. Her lectures on imperial history are very popular.
A tall, proud and beautiful Hippogryph Liberi, she is a staunch Ursus nationalist and one of the people who holds the power to mold the minds of the young, the ones who will become the future of Ursus.
At the moment, she is in a mundane lecture. Specifically, a lecture on the Nightzmora's conquest and its effects on the world at the time and beyond that period. This is an area that she is very interested in, and she has some renown in the academic community on that topic, having written no less than two books on the subject.
"First, turn your textbooks to page eighty-seven. I believe you have read through the recommended text?" she says.
Most of the students nod, unveiling their copy of the book. It's a brand-new volume for some, or an aged text taken from a library, or a printed black-and-white copy, bound in plastic or not bound at all.
"Uh… that would be "The Nightzmora's Conquest And The Making of the Modern World, by Jack Weatherford?" says a student, looking around, embarrassed at being the only one to not have the book.
She nods, and takes a volume of the book from under her pile of papers. She hands it over to the student.
"Yes, it is available in the university's library as well as in the local bookstores. It is quite a reputable text- I sincerely recommend you read it. Well, you can have mine for now, at least until you find your own copy. As we can see, the modern state of Ursus- and every other state as well- can ultimately be traced to the invasion of the Horde. Our modern calendar even sets its beginning somewhere around their conquest."
She moved to take a piece of paper from her desk.
"We will be continuing our debate on how the Khagan's conquest led to the Ursi-"
The woman places her hand in her forehead and frowns.
"Teacher?"
"I'm sorry, it seems I have some manner of headache- it's nothing. As I was saying-"
One day, a question crossed through my mind. Where do we come from? We were given life and left in this world against our own volition.
She sits back on her chair, and her frown becomes a grimace.
"My head…"
One of the students gives her a worried look.
"Teacher, are you well?"
"No, it's nothing. I can-"
Another flash of pain. She clutches her head in her hands, feeling that debilitating pulse flow through her body, overwhelming her mind.
"Argh!" she squeals, as the pain increases yet again. What is happening? Is she sick?
One of the students gets up.
"Teacher, if you're unwell-"
"Yes, yes, please call a nurse. My head is… I'm not in condition to continue- gh!"
"Yes, teacher."
"We'll be wrapping this up now, unfortunately. I'm sorry. If you have any questions, we'll continue this in the next-"
She flinches, and her body twitches again. Words try to leave her throat, but what comes out is blood.
The students' eyes go wide, and Koshelna trembles in her chair- then, she collapses into the ground.
"Someone get her a nurse-"
"Call the hospital!"
"Help her up, she's bleeding. Does anyone have a bandage-"
One student- a pale, white haired Ursine reminiscent of a polar bear- tries to get closer to Koshelna, while the rest of the class tries to call for help. He reaches her, and hears her hurried breathing stop suddenly.
"Teacher?" he says, checking her pulse. It's too fast- her heart is beating madly. "Teacher! She's not breathing. She's not breathing!"
Her hands are bleeding, and her eyes are glassy and unfocused. The other students get closer, and they grab the Liberi together, intent on taking her to the nursery.
Meanwhile, Koshelna herself does not understand what is happening. Her arms move against her will, and her throat closes by itself. Her vision shuts down, and flashes of inexplicable anger run through her. Every single inch of her body is revolting from her control, and a presence she thought was long dead now reawakens.
"Koshelna." she thinks, before silently laughing. "It seems there's still some fight left in you. Suicide, really?"
She knows that if Koshelna's will is not as mighty as Talulah's will was. She cannot hold the Deathless Black Snake back forever. And even if she can… there are always other heirs. There is always another one. As long as Ursus lives, as long as Ursus needs the Snake, the Snake will persist.
But there is something strange… Something is happening here. The Snake does not understand what is this faint glow, in the edge of their mind. A light, a voice, so low as to be nearly impossible to understand. It is not speaking to the Snake. It speaks to Koshelna.
And it is warm. Warm, like the sun.
"Kaschey…" whispers the voice.
The Deathless Black Snake roars in frustration. It is well aware that there exist other being such as him. It is well aware that the Witch King persists as the "Voice of Terra." Yet, it does not recognize this voice. It is wholly foreign to it.
"Koshelna." says the Voice. "If you want to be free… you need to remember. What do you live for? You mustn't give up. What will move you forward?"
The Deathless Black Snake barks in anger, and tries to move their body. Their students have placed them in the infirmary, and the nurse is… trying to place a breathing apparatus over their mouth. All attempts to reawaken her respiration have failed- the body is suffocating. With overwhelming force, they impose their will- and Koshelna's mind sinks yet again into that all-consuming despair. Blood drips out of their mouth, and they take a long breath.
"She's breathing! It worked!"
"Teacher!"
"She's waking up!"
She hears their words, but concentrates all her power in holding control over their breath. They will not allow Koshelna's attempt at suicide. But as they do so, the voice speaks again, and Koshelna's arm twitches. The Snake tries to hold it back, but the entire body convulses, as if having an epileptic attack.
"What are you doing? You... you! You feeble thing. I crushed you years ago. You collapsed at my feet, and your will shattered into pieces. You dare oppose me? You are no Draco, no Talulah. You are nothing- a worthless speck of a professor." roars the Snake.
Koshelna does not answer at first. But then, the Voice speaks again. The Snake cannot understand their words, but they rouse Koshelna from her despair. She lets out a wordless cry- a cry of hatred. The pain floods their body once again, and Koshelna falls from the bed, skin rupturing and bones snapping. People scream, and one of the students reaches closer.
Time stops.
"What do you have- what right do you have to stand against Ursus- to stand against me?" screams the Deathless Black Snake, in fury.
Koshelna's throat closes, and a single word is almost released, both to the Snake and the world at large.
To live was a process full of pain.
Her eyes open, and they are filled with anger. Fury, spite, and boiling vitriol.
"Hate." she says.
"Teacher? You-"
The word is not completed. Fingers morph into blackened claws. They move with overwhelming speed, and the student gurgles as his throat is torn out.
The next movement is obvious. One arm morphs into a blackened lance and she leaps back into the bed. The nurse screams for one second- and then her brain paints the wall behind her.
A student tries to call for help, but with one singular movement, his heart is punctured. The arm tears itself out of his chest, and his body collapses. But Koshelna is not finished.
In the end, they were bound to life. We existed only to express despair and ire.
One swing, and a scream. Her eyes are bleeding, and something is tearing its way through her flesh. Her blackened arms open, revealing compartments filled with blades, knives, spears, needs, saws. Three gears seem to form around her body, burst from her insides and ripping her clothes, her skin and her muscles in their path. The students scream at the machinelike abomination forming in front of them, as Koshelna slammed the dead nurse down onto the ground and kicked it with her bleeding foot- already fusing with her shoes into a metal-toed boot. And then, she roars- a grinding sound like a mix of a saw and a human scream. And then, she descends.
One swing, one stab, two, threw, four, five, six, seven. She impales and claws and mutilates the body again and again, with each strike faster, crueler, more devastating than the last. After being completely covered with blood, she slams her head on the corpse one last time, splattering their pieces all over the room.
The body is nothing but a pile of gore and skin and pieces of minced meat in the ground- and she is moving again. Her arms spin like saws, and the paralyzed students scream as she gores them into pieces.
And then, she is alone in the room.
We will understand life and the soul with our own hands.
The Snake tries, futilely, to wrench back control. Their disbelief grows ever larger. They are reminded of a certain priestess- a frozen abomination.
"No. No, no, no. What- what did you do?" they ask, in horror.
The Voice is clearer now.
"You did it, Koshelna. You're almost there. What do you want? Answer me- I promise I'll tell no one. You want to do this. You want this above all else- to finally awaken from your despair, and seek what you want to seek."
"Yes," says Koshelna, standing in a pool of blood. She laughs and screams and roams. Emotions are overwhelming, bursting from their well, exploding outward into the world. A third appendage rips itself out of her left arm.
Another of those drill-like lance arms. A student opens the door, looks at the room in horror, and she leaps once again. The student stumbles backwards, right before the new arm rip through his torso, slowly hoisting him up in the air. He screams, but the words die in his throat. The bloodied murderer marches out of the infirmary and into the horrified university, more and more gruesome transformations occurring with every step. New limbs form and the old ones transform. Gears and plates cover her torso, and her jaw breaks and reforms as her teeth transform into iron knives.
Her form is still hers- it is still Koshelna. But it is transformed. Distorted. Her hair is now metal wire, her skin is now steel plate, but it is still her.
We constructed a looming tower to return whence we came.
And the corpses behind her transform as well. The impaled student stares in horror as his body transforms, his skin and flesh melting off his bones as the machinery emerges from within, replacing his organs. His ribcage fuses into plating and clockwork patterns, and his face is the last thing to melt- unveiling a cold, mechanical skull. His eyes never stop showing his terror, even as they dissolve into sludge.
Behind Koshelna, the bodies rise, modified forms made for battle. No.
Not battle.
There wasn't an answer. We didn't find a single thing we wanted. We only witnessed the death of life itself.
All hell breaks loose.
And the true purpose is unveiled. Hate.
Hate spreads.
Hate festers.
Hate lends itself to battle. But hate also lends itself to slaughter.
The students, teachers, the lone security guard in the scene, and everyone else are the target of that hate. They try to flee, some of them have their weapons, their Arts. But it is futile. Koshelna stands there, and every attack thrown at her fails to even pierce her skin.
The machines move as one.
The blood soaks the soil.
Carnage follows.
Corpses and living bodies are desecrated as the machines fly into a rage at their mere sight. Each body that falls will be torn to shreds, the machines mutilating each innocent limb with their hatred. Not one child will be spared.
Not one inch of mercy will be given. No one is allowed to escape.
The machines are fast. Some of them grow weaponry- harpoons, crossbows, machine guns, javelins. The fleeing victims are fast, but they are faster. In the end, not one of them manages to escape. The machines burst through the walls as the students try to barricade themselves in their classrooms. They break through the windows, they find those who attempt to hide in closets, below desks, within the shadows. They drag them to the outside, uncaring for their screams, and tear them to pieces under the sun's light. And then they wait, as new machines emerge from the piles of gore. And each new soldier for this army of hatred marches on to find new victims.
The tower is touched by the sky, and it will leave nothing on the earth.
Koshelna's clawed hand reaches for her own chest, and pierces through the metal plate with casual ease. The Deathless Black Snake is still watching the carnage, in disbelief. The Voice is smiling brightly.
She tears out her sole remaining piece of flesh- her heart- and crushes it in her hands. It is done. She is completed. The Snake stumbles, and her words are mist. She no longer has any control. Their attempts to move the body aren't repelled- there is no need to repel anything. There is no need to. The flesh that the Deathless Black Snake- at the time, Duke Kaschey- laid claim to, so many years ago, no longer exists at all. This is Koshelna's self- and no matter what, it cannot be taken from her.
She stumbles over to an almost-corpse, in the process of being mutilated by one of the expressions of her hate. The teacher- who believed themselves a friend of hers. An aged Ursine.
"...w-why?" he tries to say, before the machine smashes his head to pieces with a swing of its club-like arm.
"You…" says Koshelna. It is not for him. It is for the Snake. "You will pay."
"Who will pay for this?" she screams. "For the life I lost? For the tyranny, for the suffering, for my despair?"
Her face is twisted into a rictus of hatred, and her eyes have morphed into red optics, blazing with cruel light.
"All of you." she says, like a mantra, repeatedly, over and over. "All of you must pay."
Her hand opens, internal components shining with green light. That power- hateful green lightning- courses through her circuits, through her wires, through her processors. And then it rebounds. It releases a beam of power- utter annihilation.
It remakes the corpse- from flesh into dust- and her hand trembles and rises. Then, it moves through the building. Walls are sliced in half- entire rooms crumble to dust. A muted scream can be heard- an unfortunate victim. This power can be seen from miles away, and it reaches out into the sky as her hand points upwards.
"The snake- the army- the nation- every single one of you!" she screams, as her arm sparks and shakes, the power of the beam fainting and dying.
"Not enough power," thinks the Deathless Black Snake. But it can grow.
An enemy that wishes to destroy Ursus. Destroy everything. No mercy will be given.
The screams grow silent, as the last victim is slaughtered.
…But there are more.
There is a whole nation- many more people. They deserve her hatred, don't they? They're at fault. It's what she wants above all. Her revenge. And she will stop at nothing to earn it. She has nothing left but her revenge. This will be the end.
The End of Ursus.
Who pays for the suffering and neglect of the lives given to us?
Character Sheet Unlocked: The End Of Ursus (Under the section of The Distortion Phenomena.)
(A trait has been revealed, and another has been discovered.)
(Where We Must Reach: This Distortion is infectious. Each victim that perishes at their hands- starting from the second the lethal blow is given- will be contaminated, and rise as an extension of her. A creature borne of hate, persuing that all-consuming vengeance alongside its master.)
(Death of the Deathless: Unknown.)
Many miles away, in an entirely different country, someone opens their eyes. These eyes- hidden beneath a purple hat- are filled with shock.
"Abel-" says Sieghart, the Steel Determination- "She made her move."
The kingdom of dreams reaches far and wide.
Many things can be seen… in this world. And now, perhaps one can grasp a vision of the present. One of the ways that the Light is shaping the world, right now. One of four.
Miss Koshelna- or, as some people call her, Fiolet, is a lecturer at an Ursus university. Her lectures on imperial history are very popular.
A tall, proud and beautiful Hippogryph Liberi, she is a staunch Ursus nationalist and one of the people who holds the power to mold the minds of the young, the ones who will become the future of Ursus.
At the moment, she is in a mundane lecture. Specifically, a lecture on the Nightzmora's conquest and its effects on the world at the time and beyond that period. This is an area that she is very interested in, and she has some renown in the academic community on that topic, having written no less than two books on the subject.
"First, turn your textbooks to page eighty-seven. I believe you have read through the recommended text?" she says.
Most of the students nod, unveiling their copy of the book. It's a brand-new volume for some, or an aged text taken from a library, or a printed black-and-white copy, bound in plastic or not bound at all.
"Uh… that would be "The Nightzmora's Conquest And The Making of the Modern World, by Jack Weatherford?" says a student, looking around, embarrassed at being the only one to not have the book.
She nods, and takes a volume of the book from under her pile of papers. She hands it over to the student.
"Yes, it is available in the university's library as well as in the local bookstores. It is quite a reputable text- I sincerely recommend you read it. Well, you can have mine for now, at least until you find your own copy. As we can see, the modern state of Ursus- and every other state as well- can ultimately be traced to the invasion of the Horde. Our modern calendar even sets its beginning somewhere around their conquest."
She moved to take a piece of paper from her desk.
"We will be continuing our debate on how the Khagan's conquest led to the Ursi-"
The woman places her hand in her forehead and frowns.
"Teacher?"
"I'm sorry, it seems I have some manner of headache- it's nothing. As I was saying-"
One day, a question crossed through my mind. Where do we come from? We were given life and left in this world against our own volition.
She sits back on her chair, and her frown becomes a grimace.
"My head…"
One of the students gives her a worried look.
"Teacher, are you well?"
"No, it's nothing. I can-"
Another flash of pain. She clutches her head in her hands, feeling that debilitating pulse flow through her body, overwhelming her mind.
"Argh!" she squeals, as the pain increases yet again. What is happening? Is she sick?
One of the students gets up.
"Teacher, if you're unwell-"
"Yes, yes, please call a nurse. My head is… I'm not in condition to continue- gh!"
"Yes, teacher."
"We'll be wrapping this up now, unfortunately. I'm sorry. If you have any questions, we'll continue this in the next-"
She flinches, and her body twitches again. Words try to leave her throat, but what comes out is blood.
The students' eyes go wide, and Koshelna trembles in her chair- then, she collapses into the ground.
"Someone get her a nurse-"
"Call the hospital!"
"Help her up, she's bleeding. Does anyone have a bandage-"
One student- a pale, white haired Ursine reminiscent of a polar bear- tries to get closer to Koshelna, while the rest of the class tries to call for help. He reaches her, and hears her hurried breathing stop suddenly.
"Teacher?" he says, checking her pulse. It's too fast- her heart is beating madly. "Teacher! She's not breathing. She's not breathing!"
Her hands are bleeding, and her eyes are glassy and unfocused. The other students get closer, and they grab the Liberi together, intent on taking her to the nursery.
Meanwhile, Koshelna herself does not understand what is happening. Her arms move against her will, and her throat closes by itself. Her vision shuts down, and flashes of inexplicable anger run through her. Every single inch of her body is revolting from her control, and a presence she thought was long dead now reawakens.
"Koshelna." she thinks, before silently laughing. "It seems there's still some fight left in you. Suicide, really?"
She knows that if Koshelna's will is not as mighty as Talulah's will was. She cannot hold the Deathless Black Snake back forever. And even if she can… there are always other heirs. There is always another one. As long as Ursus lives, as long as Ursus needs the Snake, the Snake will persist.
But there is something strange… Something is happening here. The Snake does not understand what is this faint glow, in the edge of their mind. A light, a voice, so low as to be nearly impossible to understand. It is not speaking to the Snake. It speaks to Koshelna.
And it is warm. Warm, like the sun.
"Kaschey…" whispers the voice.
The Deathless Black Snake roars in frustration. It is well aware that there exist other being such as him. It is well aware that the Witch King persists as the "Voice of Terra." Yet, it does not recognize this voice. It is wholly foreign to it.
"Koshelna." says the Voice. "If you want to be free… you need to remember. What do you live for? You mustn't give up. What will move you forward?"
The Deathless Black Snake barks in anger, and tries to move their body. Their students have placed them in the infirmary, and the nurse is… trying to place a breathing apparatus over their mouth. All attempts to reawaken her respiration have failed- the body is suffocating. With overwhelming force, they impose their will- and Koshelna's mind sinks yet again into that all-consuming despair. Blood drips out of their mouth, and they take a long breath.
"She's breathing! It worked!"
"Teacher!"
"She's waking up!"
She hears their words, but concentrates all her power in holding control over their breath. They will not allow Koshelna's attempt at suicide. But as they do so, the voice speaks again, and Koshelna's arm twitches. The Snake tries to hold it back, but the entire body convulses, as if having an epileptic attack.
"What are you doing? You... you! You feeble thing. I crushed you years ago. You collapsed at my feet, and your will shattered into pieces. You dare oppose me? You are no Draco, no Talulah. You are nothing- a worthless speck of a professor." roars the Snake.
Koshelna does not answer at first. But then, the Voice speaks again. The Snake cannot understand their words, but they rouse Koshelna from her despair. She lets out a wordless cry- a cry of hatred. The pain floods their body once again, and Koshelna falls from the bed, skin rupturing and bones snapping. People scream, and one of the students reaches closer.
Time stops.
"What do you have- what right do you have to stand against Ursus- to stand against me?" screams the Deathless Black Snake, in fury.
Koshelna's throat closes, and a single word is almost released, both to the Snake and the world at large.
To live was a process full of pain.
Her eyes open, and they are filled with anger. Fury, spite, and boiling vitriol.
"Hate." she says.
"Teacher? You-"
The word is not completed. Fingers morph into blackened claws. They move with overwhelming speed, and the student gurgles as his throat is torn out.
The next movement is obvious. One arm morphs into a blackened lance and she leaps back into the bed. The nurse screams for one second- and then her brain paints the wall behind her.
A student tries to call for help, but with one singular movement, his heart is punctured. The arm tears itself out of his chest, and his body collapses. But Koshelna is not finished.
In the end, they were bound to life. We existed only to express despair and ire.
One swing, and a scream. Her eyes are bleeding, and something is tearing its way through her flesh. Her blackened arms open, revealing compartments filled with blades, knives, spears, needs, saws. Three gears seem to form around her body, burst from her insides and ripping her clothes, her skin and her muscles in their path. The students scream at the machinelike abomination forming in front of them, as Koshelna slammed the dead nurse down onto the ground and kicked it with her bleeding foot- already fusing with her shoes into a metal-toed boot. And then, she roars- a grinding sound like a mix of a saw and a human scream. And then, she descends.
One swing, one stab, two, threw, four, five, six, seven. She impales and claws and mutilates the body again and again, with each strike faster, crueler, more devastating than the last. After being completely covered with blood, she slams her head on the corpse one last time, splattering their pieces all over the room.
The body is nothing but a pile of gore and skin and pieces of minced meat in the ground- and she is moving again. Her arms spin like saws, and the paralyzed students scream as she gores them into pieces.
And then, she is alone in the room.
We will understand life and the soul with our own hands.
The Snake tries, futilely, to wrench back control. Their disbelief grows ever larger. They are reminded of a certain priestess- a frozen abomination.
"No. No, no, no. What- what did you do?" they ask, in horror.
The Voice is clearer now.
"You did it, Koshelna. You're almost there. What do you want? Answer me- I promise I'll tell no one. You want to do this. You want this above all else- to finally awaken from your despair, and seek what you want to seek."
"Yes," says Koshelna, standing in a pool of blood. She laughs and screams and roams. Emotions are overwhelming, bursting from their well, exploding outward into the world. A third appendage rips itself out of her left arm.
Another of those drill-like lance arms. A student opens the door, looks at the room in horror, and she leaps once again. The student stumbles backwards, right before the new arm rip through his torso, slowly hoisting him up in the air. He screams, but the words die in his throat. The bloodied murderer marches out of the infirmary and into the horrified university, more and more gruesome transformations occurring with every step. New limbs form and the old ones transform. Gears and plates cover her torso, and her jaw breaks and reforms as her teeth transform into iron knives.
Her form is still hers- it is still Koshelna. But it is transformed. Distorted. Her hair is now metal wire, her skin is now steel plate, but it is still her.
We constructed a looming tower to return whence we came.
And the corpses behind her transform as well. The impaled student stares in horror as his body transforms, his skin and flesh melting off his bones as the machinery emerges from within, replacing his organs. His ribcage fuses into plating and clockwork patterns, and his face is the last thing to melt- unveiling a cold, mechanical skull. His eyes never stop showing his terror, even as they dissolve into sludge.
Behind Koshelna, the bodies rise, modified forms made for battle. No.
Not battle.
There wasn't an answer. We didn't find a single thing we wanted. We only witnessed the death of life itself.
All hell breaks loose.
And the true purpose is unveiled. Hate.
Hate spreads.
Hate festers.
Hate lends itself to battle. But hate also lends itself to slaughter.
The students, teachers, the lone security guard in the scene, and everyone else are the target of that hate. They try to flee, some of them have their weapons, their Arts. But it is futile. Koshelna stands there, and every attack thrown at her fails to even pierce her skin.
The machines move as one.
The blood soaks the soil.
Carnage follows.
Corpses and living bodies are desecrated as the machines fly into a rage at their mere sight. Each body that falls will be torn to shreds, the machines mutilating each innocent limb with their hatred. Not one child will be spared.
Not one inch of mercy will be given. No one is allowed to escape.
The machines are fast. Some of them grow weaponry- harpoons, crossbows, machine guns, javelins. The fleeing victims are fast, but they are faster. In the end, not one of them manages to escape. The machines burst through the walls as the students try to barricade themselves in their classrooms. They break through the windows, they find those who attempt to hide in closets, below desks, within the shadows. They drag them to the outside, uncaring for their screams, and tear them to pieces under the sun's light. And then they wait, as new machines emerge from the piles of gore. And each new soldier for this army of hatred marches on to find new victims.
The tower is touched by the sky, and it will leave nothing on the earth.
Koshelna's clawed hand reaches for her own chest, and pierces through the metal plate with casual ease. The Deathless Black Snake is still watching the carnage, in disbelief. The Voice is smiling brightly.
She tears out her sole remaining piece of flesh- her heart- and crushes it in her hands. It is done. She is completed. The Snake stumbles, and her words are mist. She no longer has any control. Their attempts to move the body aren't repelled- there is no need to repel anything. There is no need to. The flesh that the Deathless Black Snake- at the time, Duke Kaschey- laid claim to, so many years ago, no longer exists at all. This is Koshelna's self- and no matter what, it cannot be taken from her.
She stumbles over to an almost-corpse, in the process of being mutilated by one of the expressions of her hate. The teacher- who believed themselves a friend of hers. An aged Ursine.
"...w-why?" he tries to say, before the machine smashes his head to pieces with a swing of its club-like arm.
"You…" says Koshelna. It is not for him. It is for the Snake. "You will pay."
"Who will pay for this?" she screams. "For the life I lost? For the tyranny, for the suffering, for my despair?"
Her face is twisted into a rictus of hatred, and her eyes have morphed into red optics, blazing with cruel light.
"All of you." she says, like a mantra, repeatedly, over and over. "All of you must pay."
Her hand opens, internal components shining with green light. That power- hateful green lightning- courses through her circuits, through her wires, through her processors. And then it rebounds. It releases a beam of power- utter annihilation.
It remakes the corpse- from flesh into dust- and her hand trembles and rises. Then, it moves through the building. Walls are sliced in half- entire rooms crumble to dust. A muted scream can be heard- an unfortunate victim. This power can be seen from miles away, and it reaches out into the sky as her hand points upwards.
"The snake- the army- the nation- every single one of you!" she screams, as her arm sparks and shakes, the power of the beam fainting and dying.
"Not enough power," thinks the Deathless Black Snake. But it can grow.
An enemy that wishes to destroy Ursus. Destroy everything. No mercy will be given.
The screams grow silent, as the last victim is slaughtered.
…But there are more.
There is a whole nation- many more people. They deserve her hatred, don't they? They're at fault. It's what she wants above all. Her revenge. And she will stop at nothing to earn it. She has nothing left but her revenge. This will be the end.
The End of Ursus.
Who pays for the suffering and neglect of the lives given to us?
Character Sheet Unlocked: The End Of Ursus (Under the section of The Distortion Phenomena.)
(A trait has been revealed, and another has been discovered.)
(Where We Must Reach: This Distortion is infectious. Each victim that perishes at their hands- starting from the second the lethal blow is given- will be contaminated, and rise as an extension of her. A creature borne of hate, persuing that all-consuming vengeance alongside its master.)
(Death of the Deathless: Unknown.)
Many miles away, in an entirely different country, someone opens their eyes. These eyes- hidden beneath a purple hat- are filled with shock.
"Abel-" says Sieghart, the Steel Determination- "She made her move."
