| This is a draft of the introduction of the quest I am planning on running called MGLN: SplitSoulS (SSS), which is supposed to run like a Point of Divergence Alternate History, along with the necessary worldbuilding. This will involve advising/controlling two original characters in addition to your lovely selves, and planned to run starting from MC 065 until a proper conclusion. In advance, the very beginning will not seem like a typical Nanoha work, and only one half (or perhaps three-quarters) will be attempted to emulate as such later on. Please let me know what can be improved upon, i.e. writing, concept based on canon. |
--Saint's Cradle, around 240 years before MC 000
The hum of a large red crystal reverberates throughout the metallic chamber that serves as the engine room of the almighty Saint's Cradle. A slow, but surprisingly gentle hum becomes the melody of a composition of music, whose orchestra members are electrical and mana instruments. The large crystal, used to the symphonies created from sections of panicked shouts and staccato of weapons, both mass and magical, seems nonplussed at the far quieter piece it has been forced to perform for the last couple of days. Unlike those other songs too, is the conductor in charge of this one; it is not the big, powerful, and resolute direction of the latest Sankt Kaiser, but a more methodical and conserved movements of an engineer with no notable name to speak of in the Saint King Alliance in charge of a group of scientists.
"I truly wonder how the Kaiser and his family agreed to this," thought the engineer in question, a man only known as Adam Keinath. Though he was blessed, if one can truly be as such in these many centuries of war, with unbounded talent but much less connections, today in particular started off as a cursed day. A series of mishaps that resulted in the shorting of many analytical machines accentuated a rather pathetic, but successful attempt at begging for both an extension of research time after so many failures to reach what the Al-Hazardians barely managed, and for one of the Marks of the Saint. Yet, defying all odds, the Sankt Kaiser once again agreed
. "Was it a miracle then? Or does he truly know something that I myself cannot reach…?" The magical engineer snaps out of his thoughts, for there are more pressing matters at hand.
"Ready the next test!"
"Yes sir!" yells back one of the scientists, who prepares the Mark within the testing chamber, a far smaller sister of the looming crystal inside the main engine chamber. The next few minutes becomes a whirl of activity, followed by tense silence. The apprehension of the research team could overflow the massive halls and corridors of the engine room.
"I truly apologize for having to defile this holy relic, but it is for a true cause. Please by all that is holy, work…WORK!" This was not the inner thoughts of one man, but the released prayer of his wishes and aspirations reverberating within their vessel's skull. And perhaps some hopes that the Kaiser can forgive this...slight omission for the benefits that this could bring. The Mark, attached to several nodes that feels almost…alive, begins to vibrate, before humming still. The engineer's desperate, almost ridiculous last throw of the die so far is paying off.
"Energy flow detected from main unit!" One node begins to light up…now two…now three…now two again…until multiple nodes begin to heat in succession. The nodes that surround the Mark shimmer with heat, steadily increasing the light around the hallowed relic, until the chamber is a finally a blazing sun. "Energy overload imminent! Begin shutdown procedures!"
"No! I will stabilize it! This cannot be the end of our work! This must not be the end of our dreams…our people's dreams!" The engineer rushes to the test chamber, in a desperate attempt to control the runaway experiment. What should have been a catastrophic failure in a line of tragedies from the Unification War becomes changed as a result of one person's wish. A wish to end the mistakes of the Belkan people, who have shouldered the equal responsibilities of salvation and destruction upon one Kaiser, one who must be perfect even if all of Belkan magic cannot make their bloodline truly so.
"W-What are these…voices? Do I hear them? Am I…talking with these nodes?" Adam Keinath, regaining enough sense of self despite the conflicting sounds within his head, wills the relic to decrease the flow of energy with its older sister. In another miracle, the mark of the Saint complies, decreasing its glow to a dull haze.
"Energy levels decreased! Meltdown averted!" A sigh of relief passes from many lips, but soon their collective relief is replaced with that of curiosity. "Sir, your…err the resonance machine has picked up a wavelength."
"Interesting…"
--Somewhere around 235 years before MC 000
Voices, voices, and more voices. That is all that echoes within this infinite sea of red. Occasional screams seemingly resonates with soft conversations. All is chaos, yet the chaos is contained. Still, the voices blare, not to escape their crimson prison, but to attempt to somehow remember if there was even anything outside of it. One voice is about to answer, only for five more to drown it out. Soon that one too forgets what it was trying to speak. Strangely, some speak of events of what will happen, or perhaps what
should have happened, but perhaps will not ever. There is no certainty here, save for only one clear response that the listless voices can hear, the last thing said before the wandering sea calms once more.
"[Project Hoffnung Administration Online]"
--Saint's Cradle, around 225 years before MC 000
"…And who might I have the pleasure of knowing?"
"My name, Eure Majestät, is Sir Adam Keinath. I am deeply honored…"
"It is your honor and wisdom that we of Belka have to thank. Your service has been invaluable to the Alliance's cause."
"Of course, if it is for your majesty and for Belka. The synchronization with Das Hoffnung is almost complete."
"Yes, and soon shall begin our mission of peace for our people…"
"Yes, and those who would stand against that…oh I apologize!"
"No no, I suppose you are right."
"My Kaiser?"
"It was nothing. Please continue the preparations sir knight…"
. . .
"What have you done?!"
"Perhaps I can ask the same? I order you to not continue this pointlessness!"
"We are this close, this close to the Kaiser's final goals! And you would throw it all away?!"
"You would dare to speak to the Kaiser this way?! Insolence!"
"The Kaiser is dead! But his goal shall live on."
"…You and your followers. Leave our sight. You are henceforth traitors, most of all, of the Sankt Kaiser's ideals."
…
"I am truly sorry for this sacrilege I must perform…but the Kaiser's…no her goal must live on."
-- Somewhere in space, 75 years before MC 000
The sea of wandering voices senses that something is amiss. The sea warms with unnatural heat and echoes with out of place sounds. The sound of panic, only familiar during the many battles the wandering voices have lived through, does not sit right today. The many years since it thinks it was created could not prepare the sea for this next moment. No spell collected nor energy spent can stop the next blast from tearing the sea asunder. Voices, who were used to conversing freely, quickly slipped between now two seas, floating through space along with some of what it knows as 'marks'. The cold ocean of space beckons the broken pieces, which tries to find anything, any source of melody that the voices were used to using to construct songs of mathematics. Finding only a few, the voices protect themselves for a journey without destination, until they are found and needed again once more. Using the final stores of energy, the voices plot out the destination for the few remaining ships, though fewer still go towards the unknown. Which is…ah, yes the closest planet is this one…
"[Plotting course for Orusea. Standby. Operation Complete. Standing by…]"
"[ACS Error. Prepare for temporary shutdown.]"
Eltora Desert, Orusea, MC 028
A woman heaves with effort after the latest round of flights…or at least attempted flights. Steadily carrying a pendant, Olympia tries once more to brave the hot desert winds to try again. This persistent effort though to finish her project is in spite of the seemingly never-ending civil wars, not because of it. No, this defiance against the blistering elements of the Eltora is more a complete rejection of the scathing dismissals that
she, a Keinath, cannot touch the sky. Being denied of achieving dreams and fulfilling wishes may be the default, especially on Orusea, but to be denied of even flight is another prison altogether in Olympia's mind.
"Barriers have been broken before. Seemingly impossible dreams have been achieved. Even my special relation has done it. And so it will be done again." That would be the thoughts that dance within her head. And soon another spark of inspiration forms, for better or for worse, born from both inspiration and defeat.
"If I cannot fly as a mage because I do not have the power, and I cannot fly aircraft because of my constitution, then I must combine what I can do from both." That spark of inspiration in turn gave birth to the pendant she holds in her hands now.
[General Armor Set-Up. Ready!]
A shell of mana and mass, a mix of metal, a mix of something else perhaps, envelop Olympia like a cocoon, which glows enough to blind anyone else who would be watching this scene in a scorching desert. The engineer opens her eyes, to find herself in a void of green, broken by several images of her…no, the device's surroundings. There are some diagnostic screens of the device, now fully formed into a cross between armor and aircraft, underneath the images of the desert.
"If my body cannot fly, then my soul, in tune with a machine, must do." It would never truly be as powerful as the Unison Devices of old. But it would never allow the fate of certain lords of old either, to be consumed by their own vassals. And certainly what it does not have in overall power is mitigated by the fact that it is far more maneuverable than any machine, and much more protected than many mages, who mostly have to concentrate on flying, if they even can.
Blowing through a sandstorm, the armor zips above the squall, first in a hairpin turn flying straight upwards, then in a twist, completes the aerial ballet with a flourish. Willing the machine to change course, Olympia forces the armor through a canyon formation. Twist. Yaw Right. Bank Hard Left.
"[Pull Up]". Twist Left.
"[Pull Up]". Yaw Right. Dive. Pitch. Dive. Hard Right.
"[Pull Up]". Through that hole in the rock. And finally, upwards again. Past the clouds. Past even the blue.
"Ah, this is what it's like to truly sail the sea of stars. It is…beautiful."
Somewhere in space, MC 063
Passing through a nebula, the seas of wandering voices wakeup. The chatter is slow, but surely the seas will swirl with conversations once more. The ocean of lights flicker, as does the life of the bisected Administration System.
"[Trajectory Acquired. Arriving in Orusea.]"
"[Trajectory Acquired. Arriving in Lucene.]"
One half, along with some scattered marks, flies overhead during a chaotic battle over a city called Varbanty. Another is set to make its appearance in the skies over some slums in Lucene. One will follow the journey of a man who wishes to fulfill the goal of a better life for his planet, and perhaps all members of the Dimensional Sea. Another will follow the path of a girl who wishes only for a better life than she had. One will start off with a lord that is renowned and looked to for direction into a new era. Another will begin with someone usually ignored, someone who eventually ends up on another world altogether for a new beginning…
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