The world rose, life met might, the great dragons were born...
The skies fell, might met death, the great dragons turned to dust...
I saw, and I did not. I remember.
The dragons will be born anew. Fire. Madness. Waste.
Who will rule this new Earth?
Who will die in the new cataclysm?
Even as they come together, I feel the echoes of what they were.
The...
...rage.
Monday, 30 April 2018
Saturday, 28 April 2018
Then, Fix It, Dear Henry
-The Kuwahawi Seas-
(Co written with SK, events happen immediately following the conclusion of Night of Blood
https://steelkomodo.blogspot.ca/2018/04/night-of-blood-part-44.html)
“There’s a hole in the bucket, dear Liza, dear Liza…”
Well, that was a very simple analysis. It was kind of hard to tell it was a hole, mainly because of the sheer amount of mist and fog that surrounded the throbbing crack that burned in mid air, the width and breadth of a good sized building. Dawn stood on her basic work platform, the sound of various large engines echoing across the sea as her machines got into place. “So. Non-subspace based omniversal movement. Functional, if...well, you see the issue.”
“It was that,” said Vent Light, still dripping seawater, “or die in the horrible, cancerous void some bright spark decided to name the Bleed. Apparently whilst reading too much Lovecraft.” To say the young man was ticked off would be an accurate statement, although lacking in the many nuanced factors that had brought about this particular mood in him. Not least because his belt was still drying off from an impromptu dunking.
“Oh, I’m not criticizing. But, Newton’s third law. Risk the Bleed, and you can basically slip through the walls of each realm, like a needle into a vein. Skip it, you avoid that risk, and the issues within it...but you can also smash through said walls like a bullet if you’re not careful. And you, unfortunately, weren’t in a position to be careful. Well, could be worse. Much worse. You want the bad news or the good news first?”
Vent gave a sardonic laugh as he pushed his sopping wet hair out of his eyes. “After the day I’ve had, what could possibly be bad news?”
“That you punched a hole that let the Todash leak into our world. You might recall what happened in one case where that occurred.”
“...I do. Quarantined an entire town thanks to that stuff. Though that wasn’t as bad as when the Aparoids showed up. Had to cordon off a whole planet to stop them spreading, and I think we nearly lost one of the Mage family to them.” Green eyes turned to Dawn, expression hard to read.
“That never happened here, did it? I can never tell what goes on in these parallel universes.”
“Not yet. Perhaps not ever. Hope for the best. Expect the worst, which is why I have these machines. All right. The good news is, the hole you broke is mostly stable and isn’t leading to the Todash or some equivalent. It also isn’t spitting out your pursuers, yet anyway. They weren’t part of the actual transfer, they just got dragged along. They might end up here later. Or never. Knowing us, the former. For their sake, also the former. Getting lost between planes of existence is, at best...something that rapidly becomes tiresome. One can never find a good hotel and greasy spoon, you know what I mean?”
“Ugh, don’t even get me started.”
A long pause as the two stared at the gaping aperture in reality.
And then Vent spoke with a hitch in his throat.
“You died,” he said, simply.
“I HAVE been playing too much Dark Souls lately.”
“No, I mean… He killed you.” A fist tightened, the glove creaking audibly. “He just… shot you through the head, like it was nothing. You were just another obstacle, and he removed you. And I should have known, I should have guessed you could have been his next target like so many others.…”
He trailed off.
“...it’s been a rough day,” he finished, lamely.
“Everyone dies. Not everyone really lives. If she was myself with a few different circumstances, I will conclude that she did what she believed was best. Anything else is pointless agonized navel gazing. Did mother tell you what happens when you naval gaze excessively?”
Vent shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t have a very good memory of her. I was very young and still learning when she and her family left - as far as I can recall, it was just me and the other Lights. And the Kobbers, but that goes without saying.”
“You get lint on the brain.” What appeared to be the energy equivalent of a giant pair of tweezers sizzled into existence, summoned by four separate machines either on the water or in the air. “The bad news is more like odd news. For an accidental puncture, this hole is strangely...enduring. I could force close it, but at the moment, that might be like trying to stop a leaking faucet by taping a cork in its end. Need more data, but it might be better to leave it open for a time, let it vent some of its excess energy. And before you think this could allow your dangers to use it as a direct route to us, I’m taking care of that right now.”
Dawn scratched at one ear.
“I think the strength of it might be more to our location than you. Wherever we go, all sorts of marvelous energies get tossed about. Newton strikes again.”
“So… that’s it, then. I’m in another dimension, with half of my tools gone, my belt and sifter waterlogged and quite possibly a megalomaniac in a bat mask coming to kill us all. Or, in Kobber terms, an average Sunday night out.” Vent gave a snort of amusement, though there wasn't very much humour in it.
“I wonder,” he mused. “Could people like Newton ever predict what we’ve discovered since then? Like how to travel between dimensions? Or how to make monsters or heroes out of deadly space chemicals? And what we’d use all that for? I mean… what I know now makes even those great theories look like Charles Knight paintings. And yet...”
“One should not judge a man because we have greater cumulative knowledge to draw from. Without the likes of Newton and Einstein adding to the mosaic, we might not be here. Shoulders of giants, and all that.”
There was a sound like someone both burped and coughed, except so loud it actually caused a four foot swell in the water, a further bloom of steam and mist engulfing the pair.
“Altered and wholly stabilized. And...yes. Hmmmmmmm. Care to help me with a hypothesis, Build?” Dawn said, as she tapped at her ear a few more times.
For the first time since she’d seen him, a genuine smirk crossed Build’s face.
“Well, then… Shall we begin the experiment?”
---
“Interesting. Same location, but twenty years apart based on latitude based entrance. Guess I’m going to need some thinking for the buoys we’ll need to put up.”
“Did anyone come through from the other side? Aside from me, I mean.”
“No, by my adjustments your playmates won’t come out here. I’ll see if I can’t set up a ‘door’ for them so they don’t crash land into a random tourist attraction. If they come out at all. As for the hole now, I’m going to make some adjustments. Make it semi one-way. If you don’t have a key, you’ll just get spit right back out if you try and go through the door. And only we have the keys, so no one on the other side goes through unless we say so. Which we’ll need to be careful about. We all remember what happened the LAST time that world’s timelines decided to snarl up and then come and say hello.”
“Ugh, yes. No more of that, please.” Vent visibly shuddered on that sentence.
“Now...this Night Rogue.” Dawn said. “How smart do you think he is?”
Saturday, 21 April 2018
A Woman's Work
"So. Twenty. You think that will be enough?" Dawn appeared to be talking to herself, as per usual. There was no need to have a phone when your head WAS a phone, amongst other things. "Yes. Yes. I don't know, mother. It doesn't strike me as a good environment. I was in my first Brawl for less than an hour and we still had those issues over the next few years. This idea of yours, well, hope for the best, expect the worst, right? The last time I tried to make things better, we got Chaos. Yes, he's still very firmly sealed up...I like to THINK I'm getting somewhere. I just don't want another Chaos. Our family tree is tangled enough already."
Dawn flicked a switch as she listened to the answer.
"What do you want to do in regards to Kobber info?"
Dawn checked some readings.
"You know they don't like the don't tell them if they don't ask method. Yes, I know this doesn't involve them...but you're doing it, so it involves them by default. Yes. Yes. Yes, I won't tell them. Not unless they ask. Likely only Jaws would, and that seems slim. What precautions are you taking? Good...good...they're doing fine. I am STILL torn on this though, even with the setup I have discovered. I've never really been HURT doing it, but how you made me and how I made them are not the same."
Dawn was quiet, walking around while doing small tasks.
"Yes. I am still planning on challenging that orc. I am curious about how he'll handle someone as unconventional as he and his allies were. Quite frankly I hope he throws together another crazy motley band. All the more fun. Probably just Phillip and I...maybe one or two more, we'll see. No, not for that. Anything else? I think I'm on to something with those bottles that time traveler gave me...yes, I mean, something wholly other than what he wanted. With the Sentai grid sealed off to me now, I think I abused it too much...could be useful.
"You know where I am. We'll do a playdate soon. Talk to you later, mother."
Ending the call, Dawn went to work on the actual process she had been planning to initiate. She had a lot of time on her hands. Her brain went at speeds that were akin to light compared to a traditional human's jet fighter. She didn't have to sleep, and she could multitask in ways no organic mind could. And yet she found herself with so many ideas, so many things she wanted to study. If she was wholly alone, that would have been fine, but she was not. And with the Kobbers due to return to their 'season' soon, she'd rapidly have no time at all.
Hence The Bubble. Based on some stripped down and modified TARDIS tech. She entered it and time slowed down to a near complete stop. There were downsides of course. Nothing organic could go in. Stepping inside rendered organic eyes blind, organic lungs suddenly in a vacuum with air so slow it could take you literally two weeks to draw one breath, and certain quantum 'quirks' that were also very dangerous. Kind of counterproductive if you found your body rapidly transforming into a mass of tumors because the organic aspect was not designed to have altered time inflicted on them, got confused, and went into insane hyper cellular replication that, lacking its proper pace, turned malignant more or less instantly.
Even as a robot, Dawn was limited in what she could bring inside. But she could bring her mind, and that was, for the most part, enough. Stepping into the Bubble, she sat her base form down and assumed a meditation like pose.
In her mind, she looked at them. The Bottles. A strange form of information slash energy containment, focus, and implementation. Used by Kamen Rider Build to activate his particular subset of Rider powers, though she found the process a bit strange. Rabbit/Tank best match? Well, maybe Phillip would say so, considering how often he was complaining about falling apart.
But the Bottles' essence could do more than that...and in very bad ways. How sad that when Dawn found something amazing, she rapidly discovered that it was also used to do something terrible. But when you couldn't control the world, the best thing to do was to try and guide it as you saw fit. And be aware of what you saw and how it related to others, of course. The former without the latter was why there was a massive graveyard, metaphorically speaking, behind the Kobber home, and it kept getting bigger.
Strange how the Keres hadn't ended up there. Not technically. Nor Chaos. But her efforts to stop those dangers had cost her a useful weapon set. She had a feeling that maybe she could eventually tap the UMG again...but that she'd really overdrawn at that bank and she had to fix her 'bad credit' first, to mash and mangle some allegories. But one thing remained unaffected. The Henshin alternates. Parsee first, then Beck, James, Vince, whoever Build was, Dawn had her suspicions, even Dawn herself once...but it seemed that whatever 'overdraft' she had committed in those final Keres battles applied to Dawn's replication of a past Rider. She couldn't re-create it.
...But...as she'd studied the Bottles, their nature, their possibilities...the connections had begun to form.
She couldn't re-create.
But she was now 80 percent or so sure she could CREATE. She'd need her own solely crafted route, but from what she'd seen with Vince, Build, Beck, James...
It was all becoming clear.
---
-Later-
"of course you made a prototype that does that shit. you always do. everyone always does. be smart and destroy it."
"Not yet. I might YET be able to do something with it based on what I learn from the actual equipment."
"this will totally not backfire in any way and become a plot."
Dawn flicked a switch as she listened to the answer.
"What do you want to do in regards to Kobber info?"
Dawn checked some readings.
"You know they don't like the don't tell them if they don't ask method. Yes, I know this doesn't involve them...but you're doing it, so it involves them by default. Yes. Yes. Yes, I won't tell them. Not unless they ask. Likely only Jaws would, and that seems slim. What precautions are you taking? Good...good...they're doing fine. I am STILL torn on this though, even with the setup I have discovered. I've never really been HURT doing it, but how you made me and how I made them are not the same."
Dawn was quiet, walking around while doing small tasks.
"Yes. I am still planning on challenging that orc. I am curious about how he'll handle someone as unconventional as he and his allies were. Quite frankly I hope he throws together another crazy motley band. All the more fun. Probably just Phillip and I...maybe one or two more, we'll see. No, not for that. Anything else? I think I'm on to something with those bottles that time traveler gave me...yes, I mean, something wholly other than what he wanted. With the Sentai grid sealed off to me now, I think I abused it too much...could be useful.
"You know where I am. We'll do a playdate soon. Talk to you later, mother."
Ending the call, Dawn went to work on the actual process she had been planning to initiate. She had a lot of time on her hands. Her brain went at speeds that were akin to light compared to a traditional human's jet fighter. She didn't have to sleep, and she could multitask in ways no organic mind could. And yet she found herself with so many ideas, so many things she wanted to study. If she was wholly alone, that would have been fine, but she was not. And with the Kobbers due to return to their 'season' soon, she'd rapidly have no time at all.
Hence The Bubble. Based on some stripped down and modified TARDIS tech. She entered it and time slowed down to a near complete stop. There were downsides of course. Nothing organic could go in. Stepping inside rendered organic eyes blind, organic lungs suddenly in a vacuum with air so slow it could take you literally two weeks to draw one breath, and certain quantum 'quirks' that were also very dangerous. Kind of counterproductive if you found your body rapidly transforming into a mass of tumors because the organic aspect was not designed to have altered time inflicted on them, got confused, and went into insane hyper cellular replication that, lacking its proper pace, turned malignant more or less instantly.
Even as a robot, Dawn was limited in what she could bring inside. But she could bring her mind, and that was, for the most part, enough. Stepping into the Bubble, she sat her base form down and assumed a meditation like pose.
In her mind, she looked at them. The Bottles. A strange form of information slash energy containment, focus, and implementation. Used by Kamen Rider Build to activate his particular subset of Rider powers, though she found the process a bit strange. Rabbit/Tank best match? Well, maybe Phillip would say so, considering how often he was complaining about falling apart.
But the Bottles' essence could do more than that...and in very bad ways. How sad that when Dawn found something amazing, she rapidly discovered that it was also used to do something terrible. But when you couldn't control the world, the best thing to do was to try and guide it as you saw fit. And be aware of what you saw and how it related to others, of course. The former without the latter was why there was a massive graveyard, metaphorically speaking, behind the Kobber home, and it kept getting bigger.
Strange how the Keres hadn't ended up there. Not technically. Nor Chaos. But her efforts to stop those dangers had cost her a useful weapon set. She had a feeling that maybe she could eventually tap the UMG again...but that she'd really overdrawn at that bank and she had to fix her 'bad credit' first, to mash and mangle some allegories. But one thing remained unaffected. The Henshin alternates. Parsee first, then Beck, James, Vince, whoever Build was, Dawn had her suspicions, even Dawn herself once...but it seemed that whatever 'overdraft' she had committed in those final Keres battles applied to Dawn's replication of a past Rider. She couldn't re-create it.
...But...as she'd studied the Bottles, their nature, their possibilities...the connections had begun to form.
She couldn't re-create.
But she was now 80 percent or so sure she could CREATE. She'd need her own solely crafted route, but from what she'd seen with Vince, Build, Beck, James...
It was all becoming clear.
---
-Later-
"of course you made a prototype that does that shit. you always do. everyone always does. be smart and destroy it."
"Not yet. I might YET be able to do something with it based on what I learn from the actual equipment."
"this will totally not backfire in any way and become a plot."
Monday, 16 April 2018
War Ready
-Somewhere In Space-
History was full of distasteful actions; perhaps one of the fouler ones was the idea of erasing an enemy. If you go to war with someone, do not just beat them, destroy them, annihilate them down to the last man, woman, and child, burn their cities and salt the earth. Because if you didn't, they might come back.
Of course, one would struggle applying the concept of dehumanization to beings who weren't actually a member of homo sapiens sapiens. But to bring up a quote involving another animal, if it looked like a duck and quacked like a duck...
The apes from Earth had called them the Invaders, or the Venusians, though that was mostly to contrast them against the Martians, as their exact point of origin was unknown. To the Martians though, in their language, they were called "Those Who Preyed" (Or "Those Who Ate", depending on certain quirks) or for simplification, the Hunters. Exactly when the issue, the battle, the war, the devastation between them, against them, however it had started was unknown, lost in the space dust of history. But it must have been truly terrible, for they had returned one day. And the Martians, focused on other battles, had found that even with the memories nigh erased, all their innate instincts exploded in the face of them, their own version of fight, flight, or freeze needle-locking on FREEZE, even as they seized them. Consumed them. Even in the face of the one-being armies that had repeatedly defeated them and their ape ally Mordon, even as they battled through impossible odds and stood victorious, the Martians had never really been AFRAID of the Regular Army's elite soldiers. Cautious, yes. Wary, respectful of their accomplishments when they started piling up. But never afraid. And not in mortal terror. No Martian had ever begged for mercy or simply locked up and died when the elite came running, guns a blazing.
But the Hunters...it was different. Perhaps only the fact that they wanted to kill EVERYTHING had saved the Martians, because they'd also been met, and destroyed, by the elite of the Regular Army. A relief, but also a shame, a blight on the Martian's cultural and combative viewpoints. It was one thing to be beaten by a superior foe. It was another to have to be rescued by them.
But those days were in the past. Much had changed.
...some things though, didn't change. Not enough.
To loosely translate his name into an English equivalent, this soldier of the Martians was called Pupipi. Though perhaps soldier was not the right term. In recent times, battles had gone better for the Martians, their casualties considerably lower, and hence Pupipi had been involved in very little combat, mostly mop up operations that just about any Martian could do. He'd been fine with that; maybe others wanted something bigger, but not him. It seemed that the universe had deemed to answer those who sought more though.
The Regular Army, Mordon, and the Martians, they'd fought back, the elite warriors being the head of the spear that was driven into the heart of the Hunters, cutting down their queen. How strange it had been, those who had been there said, seeing their leader-of-battles-past Rootmars, carrying the apes who had previously nearly killed it into battle. And it had seemed like it was over.
But they hadn't been cruel enough. Harsh enough. In-human, or in-martian, or in-sapientsentient enough, whatever it was. They had killed so many...but not all. They hadn't scorched the earth and ensured no sprout, no flower, no seed would grow again. And it seemed like the Hunters had also learned, in their own way.
Because they were back. The last time, they'd come with their own elite, sure in their belief it would be enough.
And because of that, this time...oh they had a new batch of elite. And a lot, LOT more to go with it. They were legion, a wave of death that seemed like it could roll over the entire galaxy.
And worst of all...if they WERE going to attack Earth...they weren't going to do it until the Martians were eliminated down to the last of them.
Oh, things had changed. Many things. But when one faced an enemy that, despite all the changes, still awoke the fear, a fear that seemed seared, branded onto their very DNA...it seemed like no change would be enough.
At least, not enough to save the life of Martian soldier Pupipi.
---
"Soldiers of the Martian Corps Elite."
Commander Takora's good eye scanned the room. Hundreds of the Nostronomitron's best were packed into this meeting hall, and Takora, standing at the front of the room with a pointer and a whiteboard, had been given the unenviable task of leading this meeting and underlining just how grave the current threat was.
"It has been some time since The Hunters last engaged us, and while we have evolved, it seems we have not evolved enough. They are still predators, and we still their prey."
Martian historians had differing theories about why this was. Some theorized the Hunters had an innate ability to strike fear into the hearts of opponents, some kind of psychic assault or sensory disruption. Others believed that their behavior triggered primordial memories of extinct Martian foes of prehistoric times. But the prevailing theory was that the Hunters WERE in fact those prehistoric enemies, and at some point in the distant past, the two races went their separate ways. The most likely cause of this was believed to be Martians getting driven to near-extinction and the greedy Invaders almost eating themselves to extinction via depleting their main food source until their own ingenuity saved them and they invented space travel in time to leave and colonize a distant planet. Afterward, Martian populations recovered, and eventually they too developed space travel and other advanced technology. But then, of course, that had put them back on the radar of their ancient enemies...
Takora didn't dally on history, though. There wasn't time for that, and the past didn't matter anymore - only what could be done Now. He needed to get to the point.
"I believe the Hunters are planning something. Something extremely dire. Initially, they only made a single direct charge at Mars itself, and as you all saw on the news that night, that attack was completely ineffective."
It had been a glorious moment in Martian history. The first battle had been an overwhelming win for Team Mars. The fleet had cruised into Mars' atmosphere, the 'Venusians' had licked their toothy mouths hungrily and prepared to feast on the food their ancestors once ate daily... and Mars' secret weapon ambushed them.
Biollante.
Having fully recovered from what wounds she had sustained in the battles against giant monsters and demons she got involved in last summer, Biollante was a towering 300-foot-high engine of pure destruction. Having been told by The Nostronomitron what to destroy (the Invaders) and when to destroy it (right the hell now), she had erupted from the soil of the red planet and attacked. The Invaders seemed to have been caught completely flat-footed, and while they managed to start fighting back, Biollante kept up the assault and successfully wiped out the entire fleet of enemy ships to the last man entirely by herself.
The Martians had celebrated. With Biollante on their side, they would never have to fear the Hunters again. That's what they believed, at least, for about 48 hours.
"Our data - and, of course, our reports of the dead - is showing the Invaders spreading out. They are setting up camps on Phobos and Deimos. They have assaulted and destroyed several of our space stations. And data is showing them beginning to surround our planet with more and more fleets. They are making pinpoint attacks that are too speedy and in locations too distant for Biollante to reach in time, not to mention she can't get a very good foothold on the rocky moons of Mars." That had been especially regrettable - the Martians had been looking into terraforming Phobos and Deimos to make them more hospitable, but the Invaders had gotten there too early and seemed equipped to live on them, if only for a short time as they prepared for the next stage of war.
"We believe the Invaders are preparing an all-out simultaneous assault on all of our capitals and centers of industry. If they attack us from multiple angles, Biollante cannot stop them. She is just one being, and cannot be everywhere at once. And they have already proven that for all our advances in technology, we cannot defeat them in straight combat due to our primal fear."
Normally when one talked of a bigger, stronger race fighting a smaller, weaker race, there was always the numbers game to consider. Could the multitudes of ants overwhelm and defeat the larger, stronger, but less numerous wasps? But the problem here was that there were just as many wasps as ants, if not more. Against those kinds of numbers, the Martians were doomed even with their mighty kaiju ally.
But there was a reason Takora had called this meeting besides spreading depression and despair.
"We are in dire need of help. The Hell planets are still gripped in turmoil, and are in no shape to assist us. And our best hope, the Kobbers, are currently still scattered across Earth, many of them far from Kuwahawi and any means of space transport. While the Kobbers will reconvene in a matter of weeks, and would be able to help us then... we don't have time to hold on for them to assemble. We may only have days - even hours - before the Hunters launch their all-out assault. We need allies as fast as we can possibly get them.
Does anyone have any suggestions?"
As it turned out, there actually were some fair ideas, though they kept butting into the same issues. Time and overall effectiveness, and how a surfeit of one inevitably led to a deficiency in the other. Takora was starting to worry when the Martian, who held their equivalent of the corporal rank, one Cpl. Pupapu, finally spoke up.
"Sir, I have heard of a certain organization affiliated with the Kobbers..."
----
-Somewhere On Mars-
The Invaders, the Hunters, it would be enough if they provoked the fear response, but they had other advantages. The Martians used technology, ray guns and spaceships, only Rootmars having been able to really wield effective biological weapons. The Hunters could use both, their weapons biological at times and mechanical at others, and neither seemed to suffer for the split. It was hard to tell exactly how well a Martian UFO basic attack ship and the Invader equivalent stacked up in a one on one situation. Pupipi was pretty sure, at least, that he'd managed to shoot down two before his own ship had been critically damaged and plunged down into the red sands. The recent shock-absorption improvements paid dividends.
In that he survived the crash...
He wished he hadn't. The battlefield was a mess of smoke and noise, like so many others fields of war. But there would be no merciful and sudden demise for Pupipi, no artillery shell crashing down on his head or a sudden sniper shot cancelling his ticket before he knew what hit him. Down on the ground, even as he scrambled out of his shattered pod, grabbed up the standard issue ray gun that all Mars People were issued, he knew what would happen. They'd come. Maybe he could get off a shot or two before the fear just turned everything dead. Then the final horror, the pain...
They were coming.
It came from the smoke.
And went just as fast, as the sudden slash cleaved both smoke and flesh, hacking the Invader in two in a spray of purple blood and gore. It was very strange, getting smashed first by primal fear and then utter confusion, and it nearly made Pupipi go torpid before another slash cleared away more of the smoke.
"You're one of the ones on my side, right?"
"Like, I just got here a minute ago, everyone else has been those gray assholes trying to kill me."
---
"Thank you for coming. I realize it was short notice."
They liked to call themselves the Einherjar. No relation to the mythical beings, but similar in spirit in that they were proud warriors. Warriors who had been through a lot. Ryuko had joined the three unlikely heroes from Porphyrion after they had come to Kuwahawi, and the now four-person band had continued to stick together and get involved in battles. Especially since joining the Planeswardens, who had been who Takora and co had contacted. They'd asked for something heavy hitting; The four were the ones sent first, more to possibly come if needed.
On the surface, four humans seemed completely unable to turn around an entire war. But the Martians were desperate, and bigger allies were taking too long to arrive - time they couldn't spare. It also helped that these were no ordinary humans.
"I have spent some time determining our next course of action now that you are here. I was thinking we go for an overwhelming strike on one of their biggest settlements. They are spread thin, so any one location will not be particularly heavily defended. Get in, destroy, and get out as fast as possible in a blitzkrieg assault. Before they have time to call for reinforcements or realize what's happening. We don't think they are aware you are here, which will help.
Biollante, meanwhile, will attack a different location at about the same time you do, as a very visible distraction. If we can eliminate two of their camps, that will weaken the whole, so even if they attempt to join back together into one huge army they will be that much smaller, and therefore that much more beatable by our machines, our ships, Biollante, and you. We will support you to the best of our ability - as long as we cannot see them, we can still fight to some extent - this is why we have managed to last this long, via aerial combat and use of robots and drones - but without our machines we are powerless against them.
Destroying those camps will also give morale a much-needed boost and give us a chance to form a long-term plan while they try to figure out what just happened. If this plan sounds acceptable to you, we will begin as soon as possible."
Secretly, Takora believed this would not be the turning point. Rather, it would only escalate the conflict. The current plan of the Invaders was perfectly sound on its' own, in a vacuum - an overwhelming surge on the planet in every direction to keep the Martians' lone effective warrior occupied while the rest were slaughtered or taken as cattle. But spreading their forces so thin would doom them against reinforcements that could fight back. Surely they had a contingency plan in place if it turned out their prey had connections?
The way they had just offered themselves up to Biollante... had they known about her beforehand? Were those shock troops a sacrifice from the beginning?
And if so... why?
----
Ryuko swiftly stopped caring for an answer, as more Invaders came from the smoke. Her red sword sang, and the Invaders came apart like the finest of glass instead of living beings.
War ready...War ready...
War ready...War ready...
The first thought that managed to punch through Pupipi's head through the fear was it didn't really matter if Ryuko could confirm he was on her side. She was so fast, her sword so deadly, that if he decided to attack her, odds are she'd notice and Pupipi would be dead before he'd even gotten a shot off.
War ready...
The second was that it was strangely...offensive.
Not enough that this alien wasn't afraid. No, she was clearly so far above the basic Invaders that she could probably have handled them with her bare hands. And she felt no fear. Not even basic caution when risking one's life, it seemed.
Was this what his race had come to? Were the gains made just to be wiped away the moment some arbitrary quirk in their genetics said so?
...the answer still seemed to be yes...with one exception. Face to face, Pupipi and so many others seized up.
But even as Ryuko slashed and carved, and across the battlefield, shadows smashed and crushed, ice impaled and sheared, and fire born in the heart of stars razed and burned, the Martians found out something interesting. Face to face they were terrified.
But if the Hunters were slightly distracted by a clear primary threat...
War ready...
It wasn't exactly honorable to shoot an enemy in the back (well, the sides mostly), but considering the Invaders had no issue making their foes become helpless and then consuming them, turnabout was fair play.
And so, for the first time in who knew how many lifetimes, the Martian army fought back against their ancient foes. It wasn't the best accounting-for, as they were both trying to work around mortal terror and firing into massive scraps without hitting their allies...
But they made do.
War was war.
Am I wrong because I wanna get it on 'till I die?
Am I wrong because I wanna get it on 'till I die?
Y'all, ya'll remember me...ya'll remember me...
---
It was Biollante all over again, just somewhat slower and more spread out. The Invaders had the advantage in sheer force of numbers, but they were up against beings that had quality over quantity AND had some idea of what they were doing. And the main thing they did was MOVE. Scaeyl warped through shadows, Embla rode ice in classic Bobby Drake style, Ideans could fly, and Ryuko, well...she could run and brawl better than any human even BEFORE she'd set off to Honnouji, let alone all after that had come before. If you couldn't pin a singular opponent down and swamp them with your legions, then all you were doing, most of the time, was spoiling the singular opponent for targets.
Takora winced as a blast of feedback and static came over his communicator. The Einherjar were still figuring the ins and outs of modern technology, and hence Embla couldn't quite get her message through for nearly forty seconds as she kept pressing and letting go of the button at the wrong time.
"I believe she feels this is too simple, sir." One of Takora's aids said. Takora had had the same thought nagging at the back of his head. The attack on Mars, this slaughter now, think think...
"...check the corpses." Takora said. The Invaders merged biological function with technological; if you were going to throw away a giant amount of lives...
"Which ones, sir?"
"All of them!"
---
Am I wrong because I wanna get it on till I die?
Get it on 'till I die?
Ryuko paused to check her flanks; no good getting TOO deep into enemy lines and risk getting surrounded...
Which allowed her to see the slimy mass that had moments ago been a Hunter slithering along the ground. Not towards her, though. More in her general direction; she quickly realized it was going PAST her.
She hacked it in two again. It shuddered, filthy blood splattering the red dust, but then the two pieces kept going. When she hacked one of them in two again, same result. And more were coming her way. Or going her way. All her many successful kills, not as dead as it had seemed.
Ryuko was a LITTLE better with tech, but it still took her twenty seconds to get her communicator working, as she had to remember the communication band, while she was also cutting down another half dozen or so Invaders.
"Hey! Martian Boss...Man Sir, whatever! The bad aliens are turning into muck and slithering somewhere! Are they-"
"Follow them!" Takora had been making the same discovery around the same time Ryuko had. Ryuko tried to ask another question but Takora signed off, clearly giving orders elsewhere. Ryuko shrugged and did what she'd been asked.
She cut down whatever Hunters she ran into as she gave chase too, if just on the basis of consistency.
Am I wrong because I wanna get it on 'till I die?
---
Fog of war. The general term for the miasma that settled onto any modern battlefield, the air filling with all sort of pollutants that obscured vision, choked lungs, and had other general detrimental effects. Like hiding something.
Takora finally saw the shimmering glow, familiar yet wrong, sickly, tainted. And even as the Martians got eyes on it, it all slipped into place.
It had been a purposeful failure. They didn't want to get at the Mars capital. They wanted battle data, to use in twin with their own methods to...replicate.
And it needed corpses to do it, thousands of them that were all being drawn together, dead tissue being reworked and revitalized in a knockoff method of Biollante's golden pollen transformation and transportation.
And in the face of it...the Martians did only what their biology let them do.
They ran.
----
And even as it completed, Ideans came to a stop in the air, sword dripping with blood, as a bad taste filled his mouth. He could feel it. A resonance of sorts.
Stream energy. This process was using Stream energy, the same kind he and his fellows tapped. Like his teachers tapped. Like the Foundry had used to create Augments, though they'd called it the Quintessence. And now the Invaders had figured out how to tap it too. And use it for their own ends.
Ryuko didn't know any of this, of course. She just stopped as the last pieces snapped and formed into place, the Invader-Kaiju-Mass fully coming 'online'.
What to call this monster? IKM sounded too clinical, too simple. A later creative mind would simply call it a Viollante. A double meaning. Terrible violence...and the process to create it...terribly vile.
"...this was not mentioned, pretty sure." Ryuko said. The IKM bellowed then, a roar that drove Ryuko back by the sheer force of its sound, and sent Ideans flying backwards before a shadow hand stopped him.
"...PIN IT DOWN! HIT IT WITH EVERYTHING!!!!!"
Golden plasma blazed around Ideans, swiftly followed by black and blue as the Einherjar each went into overdrive. Ryuko wiped at her face, looking at the blood from her nose.
She was alone. She knew that, in the sense she was vaguely aware of the Martians fleeing. She could only imagine what was going through their minds. Their hearts.
...it rather pissed her off.
"Don't change a thing. I won't sacrifice the lives of others to achieve my goals." Ryuko said, and grabbed at her wrist. "You wanna make me bleed? OKAY, FINE."
"SENKETSU! LIFE FIBER...SYNCHRONIZE!"
Get it on 'till I die
Get it on 'till I die
Get it on 'till I die
Legendary lives eternal...
History was full of distasteful actions; perhaps one of the fouler ones was the idea of erasing an enemy. If you go to war with someone, do not just beat them, destroy them, annihilate them down to the last man, woman, and child, burn their cities and salt the earth. Because if you didn't, they might come back.
Of course, one would struggle applying the concept of dehumanization to beings who weren't actually a member of homo sapiens sapiens. But to bring up a quote involving another animal, if it looked like a duck and quacked like a duck...
The apes from Earth had called them the Invaders, or the Venusians, though that was mostly to contrast them against the Martians, as their exact point of origin was unknown. To the Martians though, in their language, they were called "Those Who Preyed" (Or "Those Who Ate", depending on certain quirks) or for simplification, the Hunters. Exactly when the issue, the battle, the war, the devastation between them, against them, however it had started was unknown, lost in the space dust of history. But it must have been truly terrible, for they had returned one day. And the Martians, focused on other battles, had found that even with the memories nigh erased, all their innate instincts exploded in the face of them, their own version of fight, flight, or freeze needle-locking on FREEZE, even as they seized them. Consumed them. Even in the face of the one-being armies that had repeatedly defeated them and their ape ally Mordon, even as they battled through impossible odds and stood victorious, the Martians had never really been AFRAID of the Regular Army's elite soldiers. Cautious, yes. Wary, respectful of their accomplishments when they started piling up. But never afraid. And not in mortal terror. No Martian had ever begged for mercy or simply locked up and died when the elite came running, guns a blazing.
But the Hunters...it was different. Perhaps only the fact that they wanted to kill EVERYTHING had saved the Martians, because they'd also been met, and destroyed, by the elite of the Regular Army. A relief, but also a shame, a blight on the Martian's cultural and combative viewpoints. It was one thing to be beaten by a superior foe. It was another to have to be rescued by them.
But those days were in the past. Much had changed.
...some things though, didn't change. Not enough.
To loosely translate his name into an English equivalent, this soldier of the Martians was called Pupipi. Though perhaps soldier was not the right term. In recent times, battles had gone better for the Martians, their casualties considerably lower, and hence Pupipi had been involved in very little combat, mostly mop up operations that just about any Martian could do. He'd been fine with that; maybe others wanted something bigger, but not him. It seemed that the universe had deemed to answer those who sought more though.
The Regular Army, Mordon, and the Martians, they'd fought back, the elite warriors being the head of the spear that was driven into the heart of the Hunters, cutting down their queen. How strange it had been, those who had been there said, seeing their leader-of-battles-past Rootmars, carrying the apes who had previously nearly killed it into battle. And it had seemed like it was over.
But they hadn't been cruel enough. Harsh enough. In-human, or in-martian, or in-sapientsentient enough, whatever it was. They had killed so many...but not all. They hadn't scorched the earth and ensured no sprout, no flower, no seed would grow again. And it seemed like the Hunters had also learned, in their own way.
Because they were back. The last time, they'd come with their own elite, sure in their belief it would be enough.
And because of that, this time...oh they had a new batch of elite. And a lot, LOT more to go with it. They were legion, a wave of death that seemed like it could roll over the entire galaxy.
And worst of all...if they WERE going to attack Earth...they weren't going to do it until the Martians were eliminated down to the last of them.
Oh, things had changed. Many things. But when one faced an enemy that, despite all the changes, still awoke the fear, a fear that seemed seared, branded onto their very DNA...it seemed like no change would be enough.
At least, not enough to save the life of Martian soldier Pupipi.
---
"Soldiers of the Martian Corps Elite."
Commander Takora's good eye scanned the room. Hundreds of the Nostronomitron's best were packed into this meeting hall, and Takora, standing at the front of the room with a pointer and a whiteboard, had been given the unenviable task of leading this meeting and underlining just how grave the current threat was.
"It has been some time since The Hunters last engaged us, and while we have evolved, it seems we have not evolved enough. They are still predators, and we still their prey."
Martian historians had differing theories about why this was. Some theorized the Hunters had an innate ability to strike fear into the hearts of opponents, some kind of psychic assault or sensory disruption. Others believed that their behavior triggered primordial memories of extinct Martian foes of prehistoric times. But the prevailing theory was that the Hunters WERE in fact those prehistoric enemies, and at some point in the distant past, the two races went their separate ways. The most likely cause of this was believed to be Martians getting driven to near-extinction and the greedy Invaders almost eating themselves to extinction via depleting their main food source until their own ingenuity saved them and they invented space travel in time to leave and colonize a distant planet. Afterward, Martian populations recovered, and eventually they too developed space travel and other advanced technology. But then, of course, that had put them back on the radar of their ancient enemies...
Takora didn't dally on history, though. There wasn't time for that, and the past didn't matter anymore - only what could be done Now. He needed to get to the point.
"I believe the Hunters are planning something. Something extremely dire. Initially, they only made a single direct charge at Mars itself, and as you all saw on the news that night, that attack was completely ineffective."
It had been a glorious moment in Martian history. The first battle had been an overwhelming win for Team Mars. The fleet had cruised into Mars' atmosphere, the 'Venusians' had licked their toothy mouths hungrily and prepared to feast on the food their ancestors once ate daily... and Mars' secret weapon ambushed them.
Biollante.
Having fully recovered from what wounds she had sustained in the battles against giant monsters and demons she got involved in last summer, Biollante was a towering 300-foot-high engine of pure destruction. Having been told by The Nostronomitron what to destroy (the Invaders) and when to destroy it (right the hell now), she had erupted from the soil of the red planet and attacked. The Invaders seemed to have been caught completely flat-footed, and while they managed to start fighting back, Biollante kept up the assault and successfully wiped out the entire fleet of enemy ships to the last man entirely by herself.
The Martians had celebrated. With Biollante on their side, they would never have to fear the Hunters again. That's what they believed, at least, for about 48 hours.
"Our data - and, of course, our reports of the dead - is showing the Invaders spreading out. They are setting up camps on Phobos and Deimos. They have assaulted and destroyed several of our space stations. And data is showing them beginning to surround our planet with more and more fleets. They are making pinpoint attacks that are too speedy and in locations too distant for Biollante to reach in time, not to mention she can't get a very good foothold on the rocky moons of Mars." That had been especially regrettable - the Martians had been looking into terraforming Phobos and Deimos to make them more hospitable, but the Invaders had gotten there too early and seemed equipped to live on them, if only for a short time as they prepared for the next stage of war.
"We believe the Invaders are preparing an all-out simultaneous assault on all of our capitals and centers of industry. If they attack us from multiple angles, Biollante cannot stop them. She is just one being, and cannot be everywhere at once. And they have already proven that for all our advances in technology, we cannot defeat them in straight combat due to our primal fear."
Normally when one talked of a bigger, stronger race fighting a smaller, weaker race, there was always the numbers game to consider. Could the multitudes of ants overwhelm and defeat the larger, stronger, but less numerous wasps? But the problem here was that there were just as many wasps as ants, if not more. Against those kinds of numbers, the Martians were doomed even with their mighty kaiju ally.
But there was a reason Takora had called this meeting besides spreading depression and despair.
"We are in dire need of help. The Hell planets are still gripped in turmoil, and are in no shape to assist us. And our best hope, the Kobbers, are currently still scattered across Earth, many of them far from Kuwahawi and any means of space transport. While the Kobbers will reconvene in a matter of weeks, and would be able to help us then... we don't have time to hold on for them to assemble. We may only have days - even hours - before the Hunters launch their all-out assault. We need allies as fast as we can possibly get them.
Does anyone have any suggestions?"
As it turned out, there actually were some fair ideas, though they kept butting into the same issues. Time and overall effectiveness, and how a surfeit of one inevitably led to a deficiency in the other. Takora was starting to worry when the Martian, who held their equivalent of the corporal rank, one Cpl. Pupapu, finally spoke up.
"Sir, I have heard of a certain organization affiliated with the Kobbers..."
----
-Somewhere On Mars-
The Invaders, the Hunters, it would be enough if they provoked the fear response, but they had other advantages. The Martians used technology, ray guns and spaceships, only Rootmars having been able to really wield effective biological weapons. The Hunters could use both, their weapons biological at times and mechanical at others, and neither seemed to suffer for the split. It was hard to tell exactly how well a Martian UFO basic attack ship and the Invader equivalent stacked up in a one on one situation. Pupipi was pretty sure, at least, that he'd managed to shoot down two before his own ship had been critically damaged and plunged down into the red sands. The recent shock-absorption improvements paid dividends.
In that he survived the crash...
He wished he hadn't. The battlefield was a mess of smoke and noise, like so many others fields of war. But there would be no merciful and sudden demise for Pupipi, no artillery shell crashing down on his head or a sudden sniper shot cancelling his ticket before he knew what hit him. Down on the ground, even as he scrambled out of his shattered pod, grabbed up the standard issue ray gun that all Mars People were issued, he knew what would happen. They'd come. Maybe he could get off a shot or two before the fear just turned everything dead. Then the final horror, the pain...
They were coming.
It came from the smoke.
And went just as fast, as the sudden slash cleaved both smoke and flesh, hacking the Invader in two in a spray of purple blood and gore. It was very strange, getting smashed first by primal fear and then utter confusion, and it nearly made Pupipi go torpid before another slash cleared away more of the smoke.
"You're one of the ones on my side, right?"
"Like, I just got here a minute ago, everyone else has been those gray assholes trying to kill me."
---
"Thank you for coming. I realize it was short notice."
They liked to call themselves the Einherjar. No relation to the mythical beings, but similar in spirit in that they were proud warriors. Warriors who had been through a lot. Ryuko had joined the three unlikely heroes from Porphyrion after they had come to Kuwahawi, and the now four-person band had continued to stick together and get involved in battles. Especially since joining the Planeswardens, who had been who Takora and co had contacted. They'd asked for something heavy hitting; The four were the ones sent first, more to possibly come if needed.
On the surface, four humans seemed completely unable to turn around an entire war. But the Martians were desperate, and bigger allies were taking too long to arrive - time they couldn't spare. It also helped that these were no ordinary humans.
"I have spent some time determining our next course of action now that you are here. I was thinking we go for an overwhelming strike on one of their biggest settlements. They are spread thin, so any one location will not be particularly heavily defended. Get in, destroy, and get out as fast as possible in a blitzkrieg assault. Before they have time to call for reinforcements or realize what's happening. We don't think they are aware you are here, which will help.
Biollante, meanwhile, will attack a different location at about the same time you do, as a very visible distraction. If we can eliminate two of their camps, that will weaken the whole, so even if they attempt to join back together into one huge army they will be that much smaller, and therefore that much more beatable by our machines, our ships, Biollante, and you. We will support you to the best of our ability - as long as we cannot see them, we can still fight to some extent - this is why we have managed to last this long, via aerial combat and use of robots and drones - but without our machines we are powerless against them.
Destroying those camps will also give morale a much-needed boost and give us a chance to form a long-term plan while they try to figure out what just happened. If this plan sounds acceptable to you, we will begin as soon as possible."
Secretly, Takora believed this would not be the turning point. Rather, it would only escalate the conflict. The current plan of the Invaders was perfectly sound on its' own, in a vacuum - an overwhelming surge on the planet in every direction to keep the Martians' lone effective warrior occupied while the rest were slaughtered or taken as cattle. But spreading their forces so thin would doom them against reinforcements that could fight back. Surely they had a contingency plan in place if it turned out their prey had connections?
The way they had just offered themselves up to Biollante... had they known about her beforehand? Were those shock troops a sacrifice from the beginning?
And if so... why?
----
Ryuko swiftly stopped caring for an answer, as more Invaders came from the smoke. Her red sword sang, and the Invaders came apart like the finest of glass instead of living beings.
War ready...War ready...
War ready...War ready...
The first thought that managed to punch through Pupipi's head through the fear was it didn't really matter if Ryuko could confirm he was on her side. She was so fast, her sword so deadly, that if he decided to attack her, odds are she'd notice and Pupipi would be dead before he'd even gotten a shot off.
War ready...
The second was that it was strangely...offensive.
Not enough that this alien wasn't afraid. No, she was clearly so far above the basic Invaders that she could probably have handled them with her bare hands. And she felt no fear. Not even basic caution when risking one's life, it seemed.
Was this what his race had come to? Were the gains made just to be wiped away the moment some arbitrary quirk in their genetics said so?
...the answer still seemed to be yes...with one exception. Face to face, Pupipi and so many others seized up.
But even as Ryuko slashed and carved, and across the battlefield, shadows smashed and crushed, ice impaled and sheared, and fire born in the heart of stars razed and burned, the Martians found out something interesting. Face to face they were terrified.
But if the Hunters were slightly distracted by a clear primary threat...
War ready...
It wasn't exactly honorable to shoot an enemy in the back (well, the sides mostly), but considering the Invaders had no issue making their foes become helpless and then consuming them, turnabout was fair play.
And so, for the first time in who knew how many lifetimes, the Martian army fought back against their ancient foes. It wasn't the best accounting-for, as they were both trying to work around mortal terror and firing into massive scraps without hitting their allies...
But they made do.
War was war.
Am I wrong because I wanna get it on 'till I die?
Am I wrong because I wanna get it on 'till I die?
Y'all, ya'll remember me...ya'll remember me...
---
It was Biollante all over again, just somewhat slower and more spread out. The Invaders had the advantage in sheer force of numbers, but they were up against beings that had quality over quantity AND had some idea of what they were doing. And the main thing they did was MOVE. Scaeyl warped through shadows, Embla rode ice in classic Bobby Drake style, Ideans could fly, and Ryuko, well...she could run and brawl better than any human even BEFORE she'd set off to Honnouji, let alone all after that had come before. If you couldn't pin a singular opponent down and swamp them with your legions, then all you were doing, most of the time, was spoiling the singular opponent for targets.
Takora winced as a blast of feedback and static came over his communicator. The Einherjar were still figuring the ins and outs of modern technology, and hence Embla couldn't quite get her message through for nearly forty seconds as she kept pressing and letting go of the button at the wrong time.
"I believe she feels this is too simple, sir." One of Takora's aids said. Takora had had the same thought nagging at the back of his head. The attack on Mars, this slaughter now, think think...
"...check the corpses." Takora said. The Invaders merged biological function with technological; if you were going to throw away a giant amount of lives...
"Which ones, sir?"
"All of them!"
---
Am I wrong because I wanna get it on till I die?
Get it on 'till I die?
Ryuko paused to check her flanks; no good getting TOO deep into enemy lines and risk getting surrounded...
Which allowed her to see the slimy mass that had moments ago been a Hunter slithering along the ground. Not towards her, though. More in her general direction; she quickly realized it was going PAST her.
She hacked it in two again. It shuddered, filthy blood splattering the red dust, but then the two pieces kept going. When she hacked one of them in two again, same result. And more were coming her way. Or going her way. All her many successful kills, not as dead as it had seemed.
Ryuko was a LITTLE better with tech, but it still took her twenty seconds to get her communicator working, as she had to remember the communication band, while she was also cutting down another half dozen or so Invaders.
"Hey! Martian Boss...Man Sir, whatever! The bad aliens are turning into muck and slithering somewhere! Are they-"
"Follow them!" Takora had been making the same discovery around the same time Ryuko had. Ryuko tried to ask another question but Takora signed off, clearly giving orders elsewhere. Ryuko shrugged and did what she'd been asked.
She cut down whatever Hunters she ran into as she gave chase too, if just on the basis of consistency.
Am I wrong because I wanna get it on 'till I die?
---
Fog of war. The general term for the miasma that settled onto any modern battlefield, the air filling with all sort of pollutants that obscured vision, choked lungs, and had other general detrimental effects. Like hiding something.
Takora finally saw the shimmering glow, familiar yet wrong, sickly, tainted. And even as the Martians got eyes on it, it all slipped into place.
It had been a purposeful failure. They didn't want to get at the Mars capital. They wanted battle data, to use in twin with their own methods to...replicate.
And it needed corpses to do it, thousands of them that were all being drawn together, dead tissue being reworked and revitalized in a knockoff method of Biollante's golden pollen transformation and transportation.
And in the face of it...the Martians did only what their biology let them do.
They ran.
----
And even as it completed, Ideans came to a stop in the air, sword dripping with blood, as a bad taste filled his mouth. He could feel it. A resonance of sorts.
Stream energy. This process was using Stream energy, the same kind he and his fellows tapped. Like his teachers tapped. Like the Foundry had used to create Augments, though they'd called it the Quintessence. And now the Invaders had figured out how to tap it too. And use it for their own ends.
Ryuko didn't know any of this, of course. She just stopped as the last pieces snapped and formed into place, the Invader-Kaiju-Mass fully coming 'online'.
What to call this monster? IKM sounded too clinical, too simple. A later creative mind would simply call it a Viollante. A double meaning. Terrible violence...and the process to create it...terribly vile.
"...this was not mentioned, pretty sure." Ryuko said. The IKM bellowed then, a roar that drove Ryuko back by the sheer force of its sound, and sent Ideans flying backwards before a shadow hand stopped him.
"...PIN IT DOWN! HIT IT WITH EVERYTHING!!!!!"
Golden plasma blazed around Ideans, swiftly followed by black and blue as the Einherjar each went into overdrive. Ryuko wiped at her face, looking at the blood from her nose.
She was alone. She knew that, in the sense she was vaguely aware of the Martians fleeing. She could only imagine what was going through their minds. Their hearts.
...it rather pissed her off.
"Don't change a thing. I won't sacrifice the lives of others to achieve my goals." Ryuko said, and grabbed at her wrist. "You wanna make me bleed? OKAY, FINE."
"SENKETSU! LIFE FIBER...SYNCHRONIZE!"
Get it on 'till I die
Get it on 'till I die
Get it on 'till I die
Legendary lives eternal...
Saturday, 14 April 2018
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