[..Continued From Here..]
By the decree of the Xhi’on, the traitor Hiroshi Yaarou was confined inside the highest sanctum of the Central Palace—deep within the Restorative Chambers.
It was a place once reserved for the honored and the dying. Anointed with centuries of incense and prayer, etched with restorative wards meant to cradle flesh and calm suffering. The walls shimmered faintly with low, golden runes, and the air itself pulsed with a steady, healing rhythm—like the hum of a living heart.
But tonight, that rhythm had grown cold.
The chamber had changed.
Heavy iron chains had been bolted into sacred stone, desecrating the floor with deep cracks. The scent of blood and burned magic lingered in the air, twisting what was once a hallowed ground into something clinical, cruel.
And within it, draped in silence and shadow, lay Hiroshi.
And he did not sleep well.
The mattress beneath him—a dirty, moth-eaten slab that once served plague victims—reeked of rotting sage and soul-fatigue. But the stench, like the pain, meant nothing to him.
His consciousness waned—He felt groggy, alert, yet adrift. Bound by shimmering seals buried beneath his flesh like vines of crimson light, crafted by Hitomi herself. His eyes blinked slowly beneath swollen lids through seething pain; worse than the pain, he could feel the humiliation burning him from the inside out.
His hands—tools once capable of unraveling dynasties—hung limp at his sides. He was bound by the wrist and ankles in something far denser than common steel. Something far worse. An emerald alloy that seemed to pulsate in rhythm with his heartbeat. It was dampening his senses and his flow of Naten, but for some reason.. also sustaining his body.
Mending his wounds.
“I'm still alive,” he muttered under a breath that tasted of copper and ash.
His mind reeled through fragments of his most recent defeat at the hands of his granddaughter, and supposed Xhi'on. She was young, yet poised like death incarnate. And even though feint, he could still remember the sting of words; like a dagger dipped in numbing salv.
“You’ve failed, Hiroshi.”
And still she let him live. “..a fool.” He chuckled bitterly. The sound was dry, fragile. Almost skeletal. “To be so naive.. and think me beaten so easily."
A child's mistake.
She believed he could be leashed. That her throne and Hexcraft made her untouchable. She might carry his blood in her veins, but she was no different than the rest. Hiroshi had survived worse than seals. Worse than her. He had clawed his way through centuries of uphill adversity, through exile and starvation, through wars the world would have rather forgotten.
But he hadn't. Hiroshi had endured.
Even now, beneath layers of incantation and blood-forged shackles, he could feel it—the new power coursing through him, lingering in his marrow. The taste of A’kiru’s Hexcraft still surged in his bones. The man had been a prodigy, a blade of the old blood and a shinobi Hiroshi thought worthy of the Yaarou name.
Now, he was nourishment.
By absorbing his Hexcraft, Hiroshi had reclaimed a hundred years in a single breath. And while his strength was not what it had once been—it was growing. Mending. He would play the role for now.
The quiet prisoner. The humbled exile. And when the time came, he would peel the skin from her throne and wear it like a cloak.
His eyes closed again.. but only barely. There was no peace in this rest.. Only silence
The Price of Power II
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Hitomi Yaarou
- Drifter
- Posts: 87
- Joined: Tue Nov 05, 2024 6:42 pm
Re: Price of Power II
The hour drew past midnight..
And shortly after, the door to the chamber slid open without ceremony.
No guards. No escort. No fanfare. Only the quiet hiss of air against stone, and the bare, measured steps of his granddaughter as she entered.
Hitomi stepped into the chamber with neither ceremony nor pretense. No lacquered armor, no crown, no flowing ceremonial silk. Just a sleeveless wrap of midnight linen—thin and functional. Her long hair, normally sculpted into ceremonial knots, was bound into a high, simple tie. Strands of it clung to her forehead, damp with sweat.
Hiroshi lifted his eyes toward her slowly. She had not spoken, and yet her presence drew his focus as if she held its own orbit. It was then he noticed, without her regalia and make up to veil her, details he certainly missed before. The girl was hurt; a faint limp marred her graceful walk, and there were dark crescents of fatigue blooming beneath her eyes.
The runes coiled around him burned hotter now, as if reacting to her presence. Hiroshi's mouth twitched and winced, before it curled into a smirk. “..You shouldn’t be here." Hiroshi rasped, voice coarse as gravel. “It’s dangerous to come alone. I might bite.”
Hitomi tilted her head, unamused. “You might try.”
She stood at the foot of his bed without a word. Her gaze was distant, tired—but sharp in that way a surgeon’s blade is sharp. Cold and clinical.
“I’ve been thinking about you,” she said quietly, her fingers tracing along the chains binding him to his bed. Her voice was softer than he remembered—not weak, but freyed with fatigued.
"I was wondering how you did it,” she said with a coy smile as the door closed behind her.
Hiroshi’s mouth twitched, though the binding seals barely allowed for more. His reply came hoarse, but not without venom. “You’ll need to be more specific, child..”
Hitomi tilted her head, studying him as one might a puzzle with a missing piece. Her eyes shimmered—not with sentiment, but calculation. Then came the faintest pull of a smirk at the corner of her lips.
“Not many can craft an Ephemeral Art of their own design—let alone one that binds and devours the soul of another. Harvesting their Hexcraft.. their essence..”
Her words hung in the air like a suspended guillotine. Hiroshi blinked slowly. It was not a question. It was a declaration. She knew.
The old warlock remained still, the wards around his body pulsing as if to quiet his instincts. His silence betrayed little—but his breath hitched, just enough.
Hitomi stepped closer. “It made me think of the Shi—how their Denkotsu allow them to do just that, and how our elders learned to strip them into husks.. just like you did to Akiru.”
She smiled a knowing smile, suddenly clutching his chains and tightening their hold. Gnawing deeper into his flesh. “That's when it hit me, and like a puzzle it all made sense.”
Hiroshi's eyes winced from the pain, but he gave her nothing else. He allowed the silence to fester between them until Hitomi continued. “The Tome of Morai.. The book was kept close by the Yaarou council before the Stormbringer sealed it away. Your name may have been erased from the annals, but you must have served as an Elder. That's the only way you would've had access to its pages.”
She pressed, kneeling down just enough to meet his gaze where he lay restrained. “That's how you did it right? You're the one who ripped out those pages.. and used it as the framework for your own technique.”
“Legends.. stories.” Hiroshi croaked, the edges of his mouth cracking through a weak smile. “..you speak as if you've opened its ledger.”
Hitomi almost let a laugh slip from her lips as she stood up. “..that is because I have.”
For a brief moment, Hiroshi’s breath caught. He masked it well—but not fast enough. His lips twitched. His gaze sharpened.
Hitomi caught it.
“I thought that might get your attention,” she said.
Hiroshi exhaled slowly, voice soften by curiosity.“Impossible.. The Stormbringer forbade its use and locked it away centuries ago.”
Hitomi smiled and lifted her hand. Suddenly, her palm and fingers began to glow with black scripts—symbols that coiled like vipers before fading into her flesh. “The Tome only responds to the blood of the Xhi’on. That hasn't changed.”
She continued, staring now into his eyes as if she were waiting for them to flinch—to blink.
“I’ve memorized several passages. Some I've deciphered. Others I’ve... adapted.. just like you grandpa.”
Hiroshi’s mouth dried.
“..you don’t know what you’re trifling with,” he said finally, his voice taut.
“I do,” she replied. “And that’s why I’m here.”
She grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled him closer.
“I want to see if I’m right,” she whispered.
And without another word, Hitomi raised her hand and pressed it gently to Hiroshi’s forehead.
His eyes widened.
“Wait—”
And shortly after, the door to the chamber slid open without ceremony.
No guards. No escort. No fanfare. Only the quiet hiss of air against stone, and the bare, measured steps of his granddaughter as she entered.
Hitomi stepped into the chamber with neither ceremony nor pretense. No lacquered armor, no crown, no flowing ceremonial silk. Just a sleeveless wrap of midnight linen—thin and functional. Her long hair, normally sculpted into ceremonial knots, was bound into a high, simple tie. Strands of it clung to her forehead, damp with sweat.
Hiroshi lifted his eyes toward her slowly. She had not spoken, and yet her presence drew his focus as if she held its own orbit. It was then he noticed, without her regalia and make up to veil her, details he certainly missed before. The girl was hurt; a faint limp marred her graceful walk, and there were dark crescents of fatigue blooming beneath her eyes.
The runes coiled around him burned hotter now, as if reacting to her presence. Hiroshi's mouth twitched and winced, before it curled into a smirk. “..You shouldn’t be here." Hiroshi rasped, voice coarse as gravel. “It’s dangerous to come alone. I might bite.”
Hitomi tilted her head, unamused. “You might try.”
She stood at the foot of his bed without a word. Her gaze was distant, tired—but sharp in that way a surgeon’s blade is sharp. Cold and clinical.
“I’ve been thinking about you,” she said quietly, her fingers tracing along the chains binding him to his bed. Her voice was softer than he remembered—not weak, but freyed with fatigued.
"I was wondering how you did it,” she said with a coy smile as the door closed behind her.
Hiroshi’s mouth twitched, though the binding seals barely allowed for more. His reply came hoarse, but not without venom. “You’ll need to be more specific, child..”
Hitomi tilted her head, studying him as one might a puzzle with a missing piece. Her eyes shimmered—not with sentiment, but calculation. Then came the faintest pull of a smirk at the corner of her lips.
“Not many can craft an Ephemeral Art of their own design—let alone one that binds and devours the soul of another. Harvesting their Hexcraft.. their essence..”
Her words hung in the air like a suspended guillotine. Hiroshi blinked slowly. It was not a question. It was a declaration. She knew.
The old warlock remained still, the wards around his body pulsing as if to quiet his instincts. His silence betrayed little—but his breath hitched, just enough.
Hitomi stepped closer. “It made me think of the Shi—how their Denkotsu allow them to do just that, and how our elders learned to strip them into husks.. just like you did to Akiru.”
She smiled a knowing smile, suddenly clutching his chains and tightening their hold. Gnawing deeper into his flesh. “That's when it hit me, and like a puzzle it all made sense.”
Hiroshi's eyes winced from the pain, but he gave her nothing else. He allowed the silence to fester between them until Hitomi continued. “The Tome of Morai.. The book was kept close by the Yaarou council before the Stormbringer sealed it away. Your name may have been erased from the annals, but you must have served as an Elder. That's the only way you would've had access to its pages.”
She pressed, kneeling down just enough to meet his gaze where he lay restrained. “That's how you did it right? You're the one who ripped out those pages.. and used it as the framework for your own technique.”
“Legends.. stories.” Hiroshi croaked, the edges of his mouth cracking through a weak smile. “..you speak as if you've opened its ledger.”
Hitomi almost let a laugh slip from her lips as she stood up. “..that is because I have.”
For a brief moment, Hiroshi’s breath caught. He masked it well—but not fast enough. His lips twitched. His gaze sharpened.
Hitomi caught it.
“I thought that might get your attention,” she said.
Hiroshi exhaled slowly, voice soften by curiosity.“Impossible.. The Stormbringer forbade its use and locked it away centuries ago.”
Hitomi smiled and lifted her hand. Suddenly, her palm and fingers began to glow with black scripts—symbols that coiled like vipers before fading into her flesh. “The Tome only responds to the blood of the Xhi’on. That hasn't changed.”
She continued, staring now into his eyes as if she were waiting for them to flinch—to blink.
“I’ve memorized several passages. Some I've deciphered. Others I’ve... adapted.. just like you grandpa.”
Hiroshi’s mouth dried.
“..you don’t know what you’re trifling with,” he said finally, his voice taut.
“I do,” she replied. “And that’s why I’m here.”
She grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled him closer.
“I want to see if I’m right,” she whispered.
And without another word, Hitomi raised her hand and pressed it gently to Hiroshi’s forehead.
His eyes widened.
“Wait—”
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Hitomi Yaarou
- Drifter
- Posts: 87
- Joined: Tue Nov 05, 2024 6:42 pm
Re: Price of Power II
It was too late.
The seal had already formed beneath her fingertips—black sigils coiling outward like oil in water, creeping across his skin, threading into the very marrow of his bones. The runes pulsed with rhythm, each beat syncing with Hiroshi’s soul as if testing its tensile strength.
And then her mouth opened wide..
Too wide..
The air around her swelled, twisted, shrieked in a pitch just beneath hearing.
And from Hiroshi’s mouth, something was pulled—something spectral and screaming. It writhed and hissed through his teeth like smoke, and funneled slowly into Hitomi’s open maw.
“No—” he rasped, but his words dissolved into gurgled silence.
His soul—his essence—was being pulled from his throat.
And with it, the culmination of all the Hexcraft he'd stolen, the volumes of forbidden knowledge—his memories.. his strengths.. his weaknesses.
But when Hitomi was subjected to the full weight of Hiroshi's soul, it was too much all at once. Along with all the power he hoarded, she was flooded by the pain and suffering from his sea of victims—thousands of voices trapped inside him in perpetual agony. Constantly screaming.
Hitomi stumbled, knees buckling as her body arched in revolt. Blood welled at the corner of her mouth.
And all the while Hiroshi's terror faded into a wicked smile. His mouth was still being forced open, but he was fully aware of the nuances of the spell. He designed it afterall, and he could tell from her inexperience that Hitomi was in over her head. She may have been intuitive enough to learn the incantation, but she was woefully unprepared for the toll that came with it.
“A fool,” His gaze said what his lips could not. And then, he pushed back. His head leaned closer as he began to wretch control of the spell, and slowly started to siphon Hitomi's soul from her lips. It was seamless. Effortless. Hitomi's chest began to burn hotter than hell itself as her soul was dragged from her lips. Her eyes began to water and drip.. Even her muscles betrayed her; and forced her to remain still.
It was this moment that she could feel him; Hiroshi's thoughts, his essence, literally devouring her own. And the pain was unbearable.
But then—
The Ring of Hatred flashed along Hitomi's finger. And it responded to Hiroshi's attempt at seizing its host with a thunderous surge of power that severed the bond between their souls, throwing her backward onto the floor.
Hiroshi gasped violently, eyes widened with shock and pain. He felt it.. a portion of his strength, ripped from his bones.. and nothing to show for it in return.
He looked up to see the prideful girl sprawled on the stone, her chest heaving with fatigue. Her hand was clutched to her face, and her eyes burned with a strange, unfamiliar glow—like coals struck red by lightning.
Hiroshi watched as panic flushed the color from her cheeks and he laughed. It was then he took note of the relic bound to her finger—The same artifact that Rii’ku used to seal him in the dungeon. His eyes cut low into fine crimson slits before he let out a wet sickly laugh. “..to be burdened with such power, and such infallible arrogance.”
He rasped, “...did you think true strength would come without cost? Without challenge?”
“W-wha—?"She muttered, looking down at her trembling hands and then to her injured leg. Only to find that it had no longer felt injured. Slowly, after catching her breath, Hitomi stood straight up to find her limp was completely gone.
The pain—faded entirely.
“What… was that?” she murmured, looking down at her fingers.
“There were.. thousands of them.” She continued, still reeling from the aftereffects of the spell. The visions she'd seen once she merged with Hiroshi's soul. “..just screaming.. and pleading.” Finally, Hitomi looked up from her trembling hands and balled them into fists. “..you killed so many children..” She asked as if she were shocked by the truth, as if she hadn't known about the crimes of Defiler.. But it was one thing to read about them in scrolls, and another to see them play out in vivid, gruesome detail.
“That..” Hiroshi exhaled sharply. “..is the price of true power. The will to do whatever necessary to attain dominance. Glory.. Immortality.” He sat up slightly, chains groaning in tandem with his movements. “And I would slay a thousand more to achieve my destiny.”
Hitomi's expression was pale, but unshaken. She wiped the blood from her lips and with a flick of her wrist, tightened Hiroshi's shackles. “..greedy pig.” She muttered as he writhed in pain. “You no longer have a destiny.. only your duty. To me. You're Xhi’on.” She said coolly, grabbing a fistful of his hair once again. “And I intend to make you suffer for every life you've stolen.”
She dropped his head, allowing him to sink back into scummy mattress as she turned toward the exit. But Hiroshi managed to choke out his last words with a smile on his face. “..now that you've been given a taste. You will see..” He droned through gritted teeth. “Blood of my blood.”
The seal had already formed beneath her fingertips—black sigils coiling outward like oil in water, creeping across his skin, threading into the very marrow of his bones. The runes pulsed with rhythm, each beat syncing with Hiroshi’s soul as if testing its tensile strength.
And then her mouth opened wide..
Too wide..
The air around her swelled, twisted, shrieked in a pitch just beneath hearing.
And from Hiroshi’s mouth, something was pulled—something spectral and screaming. It writhed and hissed through his teeth like smoke, and funneled slowly into Hitomi’s open maw.
“No—” he rasped, but his words dissolved into gurgled silence.
His soul—his essence—was being pulled from his throat.
And with it, the culmination of all the Hexcraft he'd stolen, the volumes of forbidden knowledge—his memories.. his strengths.. his weaknesses.
But when Hitomi was subjected to the full weight of Hiroshi's soul, it was too much all at once. Along with all the power he hoarded, she was flooded by the pain and suffering from his sea of victims—thousands of voices trapped inside him in perpetual agony. Constantly screaming.
Hitomi stumbled, knees buckling as her body arched in revolt. Blood welled at the corner of her mouth.
And all the while Hiroshi's terror faded into a wicked smile. His mouth was still being forced open, but he was fully aware of the nuances of the spell. He designed it afterall, and he could tell from her inexperience that Hitomi was in over her head. She may have been intuitive enough to learn the incantation, but she was woefully unprepared for the toll that came with it.
“A fool,” His gaze said what his lips could not. And then, he pushed back. His head leaned closer as he began to wretch control of the spell, and slowly started to siphon Hitomi's soul from her lips. It was seamless. Effortless. Hitomi's chest began to burn hotter than hell itself as her soul was dragged from her lips. Her eyes began to water and drip.. Even her muscles betrayed her; and forced her to remain still.
It was this moment that she could feel him; Hiroshi's thoughts, his essence, literally devouring her own. And the pain was unbearable.
But then—
The Ring of Hatred flashed along Hitomi's finger. And it responded to Hiroshi's attempt at seizing its host with a thunderous surge of power that severed the bond between their souls, throwing her backward onto the floor.
Hiroshi gasped violently, eyes widened with shock and pain. He felt it.. a portion of his strength, ripped from his bones.. and nothing to show for it in return.
He looked up to see the prideful girl sprawled on the stone, her chest heaving with fatigue. Her hand was clutched to her face, and her eyes burned with a strange, unfamiliar glow—like coals struck red by lightning.
Hiroshi watched as panic flushed the color from her cheeks and he laughed. It was then he took note of the relic bound to her finger—The same artifact that Rii’ku used to seal him in the dungeon. His eyes cut low into fine crimson slits before he let out a wet sickly laugh. “..to be burdened with such power, and such infallible arrogance.”
He rasped, “...did you think true strength would come without cost? Without challenge?”
“W-wha—?"She muttered, looking down at her trembling hands and then to her injured leg. Only to find that it had no longer felt injured. Slowly, after catching her breath, Hitomi stood straight up to find her limp was completely gone.
The pain—faded entirely.
“What… was that?” she murmured, looking down at her fingers.
“There were.. thousands of them.” She continued, still reeling from the aftereffects of the spell. The visions she'd seen once she merged with Hiroshi's soul. “..just screaming.. and pleading.” Finally, Hitomi looked up from her trembling hands and balled them into fists. “..you killed so many children..” She asked as if she were shocked by the truth, as if she hadn't known about the crimes of Defiler.. But it was one thing to read about them in scrolls, and another to see them play out in vivid, gruesome detail.
“That..” Hiroshi exhaled sharply. “..is the price of true power. The will to do whatever necessary to attain dominance. Glory.. Immortality.” He sat up slightly, chains groaning in tandem with his movements. “And I would slay a thousand more to achieve my destiny.”
Hitomi's expression was pale, but unshaken. She wiped the blood from her lips and with a flick of her wrist, tightened Hiroshi's shackles. “..greedy pig.” She muttered as he writhed in pain. “You no longer have a destiny.. only your duty. To me. You're Xhi’on.” She said coolly, grabbing a fistful of his hair once again. “And I intend to make you suffer for every life you've stolen.”
She dropped his head, allowing him to sink back into scummy mattress as she turned toward the exit. But Hiroshi managed to choke out his last words with a smile on his face. “..now that you've been given a taste. You will see..” He droned through gritted teeth. “Blood of my blood.”
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Hitomi Yaarou
- Drifter
- Posts: 87
- Joined: Tue Nov 05, 2024 6:42 pm
Re: Price of Power II
[Several Days Later]
The courtyard was radiant in the early amber light, veiled in a soft mist that clung to the cobbled stones like breath to glass. Towering marble obelisks etched with flowing runes encircled the clearing—monuments to the Yaarou Clan’s centuries of arcane legacy. In the center stood a raised obsidian platform ringed with ceremonial glyphs, flanked on all sides by vigilant warriors and advisors cloaked in royal dusk-blue robes.
And at the head of the courtyard, seated upon a throne of carved crystal, sat Hitomi Yaarou—dressed in a way none present had seen before.
Her Mazoku pelt was replaced by ceremonial robes, layered in silks dyed a deep garnet and embroidered with silver thread that caught the light with every breath. Fine jewelry adorned her neck and wrists, and her long white hair, usually tied for battle, flowed freely down her back, kissed with ceremonial oils and delicate gold pins that shimmered like stars through the void. Her features had been traced with soft pigments of black and crimson. Powerful. Beautiful. Composed.
Yet not even her stillness could hide the way her gaze rose skyward again… and again.
And again.
She did not fidget—but she adjusted. A cuff. Her bangs. A sigh that barely touched her lips.
She was waiting.
Beside her stood the Elders Jhun Ayune, and Hayate’—all clad in charcoal cloaks, embroidered with ancient seals of the Yaarou bloodline. And standing behind the Yaarou council stood Mitsuko; tall and solemn, the last living Champion of the Xhi’on following her.. "trials."
Her armor gleamed, one hand ever resting on the hilt of her ax. However.. a closer examination would find that she was falling asleep while standing up and her ax was the only thing supporting her weight.
The woman was exhausted following her relentless cycle of training, issued of course by her Xhi'on. But the council didn't pay her any mind. They were too caught up in their own conversations—
“Have you seen the reports? The images their Envoys have sent to us?” Hayate's tone was hushed as he murmured to his peers. “Hyperia claims their creations will shift the tides of the coming war,” he murmured, eyes locked on the sky. “But I’ve lived long enough to recognize a false prophecy.”
“They did manage to help our Xhi’on slay the Mazoku,” Ayune’ reminded gently.
“Yes,” Hayate nodded, “and now they bring a god-machine. A weapon that thinks. That learns.” He looked toward the horizon. “It is not reverence that sharpens my tongue, Ayune’. It is caution.”
“A being forged of machine and magic,” Elder Jhun added. “If their claims are true, then this may lead to the end of their dependency on us..”
“It may as well lead to the end of the Yaarou, if we’re not careful,” Hayate muttered. “To craft something beyond our control and call it our salvation—conveys the true arrogance of their makers. They must think us fools.”
“I fear we may have extended our trust too easily.” Jhun murmured, directing his anger and his side-eye toward his Xhion. “These people are not of our world... nor bound by its oaths.”
Hitomi did not turn to them. She answered without shifting her gaze from the horizon. “They haven’t built a god. They’ve built a weapon. One that will answer to me.”
A stillness followed her words. No one challenged them. Not aloud.
“I.. trust the Monarch.” The words stretched that silence taut and thin. “They wouldn't risk their lives by betraying the most powerful being they have ever known. Di’yami has proven he's too smart for that.”
The Council shared a brief glance with one another—one loaded with implications and assumptions. Hitomi rarely EVER verbally places her trust in anyone, or anything outside of her own power. To hear their Xhi'on speak so reverently about Hyperia's leader arched their brows in confusion. But then a soft, artificial chime pierced the clouds above.
Suddenly, a fold in space pulled opendd the skies with a hiss, revealing a sleek, curved vessel wreathed in pale blue energy. It hovered, suspended in silence—no thrusters, no flame—only a slow, gravitational descent until it came to rest just above the landing dais before the throne.
Its surface gleamed with sapphire colored steel, etched with faint circuitry that coiled like silver veins beneath its hull. With a quiet shhhhkt, a seam split down its center.
And from the ship emerged a man.
He was clad in a long coat of pale silver and cobalt, with skin like copper and eyes of bright gold. His shaven head glinted beneath the sun, and a thin metallic apparatus clung to the side of his face, framing one eye like a shifting lens. Calm, composed, he approached the throne and bowed—not low, but deep enough to acknowledge Hitomi’s station.
“Esteemed Xhi’on of the Yaarou Clan,” he said with a voice like smooth metal on velvet, “I am Doctor Kion Bhu. Envoy of Hyperia. It is my honor to present our offering, and it is good to see you again."
Hitomi blinked once. Her voice remained poised. “Where is your Monarch?” She said, her gaze fixated past him as if waiting for someone else to step from the ship.
Dr. Bhu straightened and tilted his head politely.
“The Monarch sends his highest regards. Urgent developments required his attention. I was dispatched in his stead. I… apologize for any disappointment. But I am honored to act as his proxy..”
Hitomi’s expression didn’t move despite her disappointment, but the Elders noticed the subtle flicker in her demeanor. Jhun covered his mouth and leaned just slightly to Ayune. “Has she ever worn makeup to a weapons demonstration before?”
Elder Ayune’ did not respond. She simply smiled faintly and folded her hands in her sleeves.
Dr. Bhu continued, unaware of the exchange. “Uhm.. When you are ready Lady Xhi’on, I will demonstrate the unit.”
Hitomi let out a disappointed sigh and gestured slightly with two fingers. “Get on with it.”
Dr. Bhu nodded, turned and pressed a small sphere embedded in his gauntlet.
From the open hull of the ship, liquid metal began to pour outward in a laminar flow—no splashing, or violent mixing. It moved silently, as if each droplet held its own predetermined spot and job in the grand design.
And within seconds, a figure emerged.
Ten feet tall. Sleek. Angular. Its body rippled with refractive metal that shifted like mercury in moonlight. A mask-like faceplate shimmered behind moving panels—eyes glowing a cold, ambient red. Its shoulders rose with purpose, its limbs proportioned like a titan or demigod.
The Elders stiffened. Mitsuko shifted slightly behind the council, suddenly waking up and knocking her ax onto the ground in the process.
Dr. Bhu turned to the assembly.
“Behold—AION Unit V-001. Fully functional. Fully adaptive. Fully loyal.” Bhu said, “They represent our answer to the tyranny of inheritance and the oppressive powers that be. They are autonomous. Adaptive. Perfectly neutral until imprinted. And now…”
He turned toward Hitomi.
“They belong to the Yaarou.”
The sentinel turned—slowly—and bowed according to Yaarou tradition. But Elder Hayate stepped forward, voice edged with skepticism.
“Yes, and what assurances do we have that it will remain so? Should these… constructs ever turn on us?”
Without hesitation, Bhu answered.
“They cannot. Each AION is bound through Naten resonance. Only your Xhi’on,” he said, gesturing respectfully toward Hitomi, “..will be given the key to their autonomy. Without her command, they are inert. Without her will, they are stone.”
Bhu looked to the throne and the sentinel turned as if magnetized to Hitomi's presence and knelt. Soon after, its chest unfolded with a soft hiss, revealing a small basin of shimmering light at its core.
“One drop of your blood is all that is required. From there, the link will be permanent.”
Hitomi stood slowly, descending from her throne without fanfare.
She approached, unfurling a black silk glove from her hand.
“This is it then?” she asked, glancing once toward Dr. Bhu. To which he responded with a small, proud nod.
Then she raised her palm, bit the edge of her thumb, and let a drop of blood fall into the basin.. but not before she recited an incantation beneath her breath.
After that, there was a sudden stillness..
The sentinel convulsed as Naten spiraled across its body, her signature threading through its circuits.
Then, a stillness.. before the mechanical titan rose and stepped back.
Dr. Bhu smiled soon after. “It is done.”
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Hitomi Yaarou
- Drifter
- Posts: 87
- Joined: Tue Nov 05, 2024 6:42 pm
Re: Price of Power II
Hitomi circled the sentinel slowly, her sharp eyes catching every subtle movement in the mercurial sheen of its ten-foot frame. Its surface rippled softly, like liquid metal reflecting impossible angles, the faintest pulse of energy flickering beneath the alloy skin—a weave of ancient technology and something far older.
She knelt briefly, reaching out a hand to touch the sentinel’s forearm. It was cool to the touch, but beneath that hardness she sensed a trembling resonance—like a billions of tiny heart beats, all slowly synochinzing.
“Doctor,” she said without turning, voice calm but edged with curiosity. “What exactly does AION stand for?”
The envoy’s gold eyes gleamed with pride as he stepped forward.
“Artificially Intelligent Omnipotent Nanobound Sentinels.”
The word Omnipotent hung in the air like a challenge.
An Elder’s voice cracked through the stillness. “Omnipotent? Surely you do not expect us to believe such a claim?” Elder Hayate’s skeptical tone rippled through the courtyard.
Elder Ayune’s gaze remained steady but no less concerned. “A weapon that calls itself omnipotent is a danger to us all, not just our enemies.”
Hayate stepped forward, glancing at his peers before meeting Bhu’s unflinching gaze.
“We will test its strength and adaptability.” His voice was resolute and tilted with challenge. “I propose Mitsuko be the one to demonstrate its.. capability.”
Mitsuko shifted from behind the council, straightening with a surge of pride despite the exhaustion lingering in her bones. Her hand gripped the hilt of her ax firmly.
“Oh, i'll do a whole lot more than that.” she said with steady determination, eyeing the titan sized robot with indifference. She refused to be intimidated by an inanimate object—a robot was nothing compared to an actual warrior, and she was ready to consecrate her beliefs in blood and bolts. "Prepare to be dazzled, little lord."
She said, glancing and smiling toward her Xhi'on, but Hitomi eyes never left the sentinel until she returned to her seat. The courtyard’s ancient stones seemed to hum with anticipation.
Dr. Bhu stepped forward, voice rich with detail.
“The AIONS are designed for complete autonomy, capable of adapting instantaneously to any threat. Their nanobond systems integrate the battle pattern of their foe in real time, allowing near-limitless combat versatility.”
The sentinel’s ocular lenses flared—glowing softly red as it began running pre-fight computations, shifting subtly like a living algorithm.
Mitsuko stepped into the center of the courtyard, the polished stones cool beneath her bare feet. The exhaustion clung to her like a shadow, but her spirit blazed fiercely. Every fiber of her being screaming to prove she was no longer the broken warrior she once was.
Her fingers tightened around the hilt of her ax, muscles coiling like springs ready to unleash as she dragged it behind her. She inhaled slowly, centering herself, and generating a crimson smoke from the blade of her weapon.
Around the courtyard, the Elders exchanged uneasy glances. Hayate’s gaze was sharp, calculating. Jhun’s lips pressed into a thin line, while Hitomi’s reclined leaned in her throne, resting her chin on her fist—watching, weighing, waiting.
Dr. Bhu’s voice echoed softly, a calm counterpoint to the mounting tension.
“The AIONS do not adhere to any one fighting style. Instead, they morph and adapt, shifting forms as necessary to overwhelm their target.”
The sentinel’s form began to ripple and flow like liquid.
First, it became a towering soldier, armor plates aligning into a classic warrior’s silhouette. Its right arm morphed into a massive hammer, pulsating with raw kinetic energy. Its ocular lenses glowed a fierce amber as it charged, a blur of motion that tested Mitsuko’s reflexes.
She dodged, rolling beneath the hammer’s crushing arc, and retaliated with a surge of crimson Naten that burst from her ax’s blade. The sentient metal hissed as it met her attack with an extended palm, absorbing the molten impact with unnerving ease.
Witnessing the clash, Elder Hayate muttered, “Impressive speed… but can it think beyond brute force?”
Without warning, the sentinel shifted again.
Its arm shrank and elongated, armor plates sliding into sleek curves. Blades extended from its wrists, and a long, segmented tail lashed behind it like a venomous whip. Its ocular lenses now shimmered an icy blue as it darted forward.
Mitsuko squared her stance to meet the beast with a flurry of swipes from her ax, beginning with a powerful horizontal strike but the sentinel moved like a shadow—too fast, too swift to properly track. Its form swiveled like liquid around her attacks and slashed Mitsuko along her side, the cold bite of its blade barely grazing her skin but sending a shock through her nerves.
Jhun whispered from the sidelines, “Hmph.. Impressive indeed..”
The sentinel’s body twisted once more—sprouting tentacles composed of dark metal from its shoulders, crackling with electrical energy. Each appendage then aimed their barrels toward Mitusko and unleashed a volley of arcane bolts—bathing the courtyard in blisters of light.
Mitsuko gritted her teeth, hiding behind the size of her Axe to shield against the onslaught. “Child’s play..” She hissed beneath gritted teeth. She tightened her grip along her ax before she slung mighty weapon as though it were a weightless disc. It tore through the volley of blasts and collided with the Sentinel with an explosive BOOM, sending the tenfoot machine sliding backward.
When the smoke cleared, Mitusko’s axe had already reappeared in her grip in a blister of crimson flames, and the towering machine was missing one third of its torso.
“Bullseye.” She murmured with a smile, but the AION remained standing—smoldering, but still standing. In moments, the machine regenerated its arm, chest and dismembered tentacle. Drawing shocked expressions from all but Doctor Bhu.
“Excellent.” He murmured, watching alongside Hitomi and her appointed council. “Truly excellent. It's performing far better than I anticipated. And this one of your more accomplished warriors?” Doctor Bhu asked, genuinely curious as to whether or not this was a proper gauge of the Sentinels ability. He was so enamored by its success that he didn't realize how offensive his question sounded..
Still, thr implications stung. No one chose to answer him.. and the silence drew all focus back to the center of the courtyard.
—-
The sentinel stood motionless for a beat after stitching itself back together. Mitusko hissed as she adopted a different stance, one telegraphing a more aggressive approach. “..well this might take a bit longer than I thought.” She said aloud as her axe began to steam with crimson smoke once again. “Let's see if you can come back from being dust.”
This caused the sentinel to shift its body accordingly, as though it had discerned an opening—or a weakness.
The heavy-footed titan’s posture lightened—its limbs thinning, realigning into inhuman geometry. Its newly formed fingers splayed wide, and long metallic tendrils erupted from its back and stabbed into the ground like the legs of some foreign insect.
“Ugh..” Mitsuko hesitated for a moment.. unnerved by its disurtbing appearance.
But those few seconds were enough for her for the sentinel to enact its assault.
The AION moved—not in a blur, but in a literal flash of light. It teleported its massive body directly behind Mitsuko, and one of its tendrils were driving toward her like a harpoon. Mitsuko instinctively spun to meet it, ax raised, but not before a tendril ripped clean through her abdomen—tossing blood and entrails in the air.
Mitsuko winced from the pain, but the visceral gash immediately regenerated—her mastery of Shōkotsu now honed to perfection following her training with Ayune, made the woman nearly unkillable.
And her skill and technique didn't miss a step.
Mitsuko spun around and used her axe to cleave directly into the abdomen of the mechanical predator—slinging metal and circuitry throughout the air from the molten blade.
Mitusko’s eyes flickered with pride watching her target launched violently toward the opposite end of the courtyard until it crashed into the wall of the arena.
“Is this what I'm to be impressed by?” Elder Jhun commented as he watched the battle down the length of his nose. “It seems rather inexperienced despite its array of abilities.”
But Doctor Bhu remained confident in his creation. “Look closely—Watch how the Sentinel moves now that it has adapted her attack patterns.”
In moments, The AION returned to the heat of battle—teleporting in front of Mitsuko before she had a chance to catch her breath. Its injuries were already mended, and it was brandishing several more tentacles.
A moment of panic flickered behind her eyes. She was forced into a defensive stance once the beast unleashed a slurry of strikes. Each one heavier than the last, faster than the last.. And though she managed to deflect and defend herself, her body was flayed in the process. A cut here, a gash there—she used her arm to block what her weapon couldn't deflect.
“She’s losing pace,” Hayate muttered grimly.
Mitsuko snarled and slammed her fist into the Sentinel's center mass. The sudden impact halted its assault, providing an opening for her to bring that mighty ax down in a bolt of crimson aimed at the sentinel’s skull—
But the AION was prepared—it had calculated this exact maneuver, and used three of its remaining tendrils to intercept Mitusko’s strike at just the right time. The impact of the collision shook the courtyard down to the foundation, and gouged a smouldering crater beneath them.
They struggled for less than a second against each other's might before the Sentinels its face split open like a blooming iron flower, revealing a dozen burning barrels all pointed at her head. And the blast it released was nothing less than hellish. Mitusko roared as she was engulfed in scorching a column of scarlet and white that intended to churn, burn, and char the Yaarou champion until there was nothing left for her to regenerate from.
She knelt briefly, reaching out a hand to touch the sentinel’s forearm. It was cool to the touch, but beneath that hardness she sensed a trembling resonance—like a billions of tiny heart beats, all slowly synochinzing.
“Doctor,” she said without turning, voice calm but edged with curiosity. “What exactly does AION stand for?”
The envoy’s gold eyes gleamed with pride as he stepped forward.
“Artificially Intelligent Omnipotent Nanobound Sentinels.”
The word Omnipotent hung in the air like a challenge.
An Elder’s voice cracked through the stillness. “Omnipotent? Surely you do not expect us to believe such a claim?” Elder Hayate’s skeptical tone rippled through the courtyard.
Elder Ayune’s gaze remained steady but no less concerned. “A weapon that calls itself omnipotent is a danger to us all, not just our enemies.”
Hayate stepped forward, glancing at his peers before meeting Bhu’s unflinching gaze.
“We will test its strength and adaptability.” His voice was resolute and tilted with challenge. “I propose Mitsuko be the one to demonstrate its.. capability.”
Mitsuko shifted from behind the council, straightening with a surge of pride despite the exhaustion lingering in her bones. Her hand gripped the hilt of her ax firmly.
“Oh, i'll do a whole lot more than that.” she said with steady determination, eyeing the titan sized robot with indifference. She refused to be intimidated by an inanimate object—a robot was nothing compared to an actual warrior, and she was ready to consecrate her beliefs in blood and bolts. "Prepare to be dazzled, little lord."
She said, glancing and smiling toward her Xhi'on, but Hitomi eyes never left the sentinel until she returned to her seat. The courtyard’s ancient stones seemed to hum with anticipation.
Dr. Bhu stepped forward, voice rich with detail.
“The AIONS are designed for complete autonomy, capable of adapting instantaneously to any threat. Their nanobond systems integrate the battle pattern of their foe in real time, allowing near-limitless combat versatility.”
The sentinel’s ocular lenses flared—glowing softly red as it began running pre-fight computations, shifting subtly like a living algorithm.
Mitsuko stepped into the center of the courtyard, the polished stones cool beneath her bare feet. The exhaustion clung to her like a shadow, but her spirit blazed fiercely. Every fiber of her being screaming to prove she was no longer the broken warrior she once was.
Her fingers tightened around the hilt of her ax, muscles coiling like springs ready to unleash as she dragged it behind her. She inhaled slowly, centering herself, and generating a crimson smoke from the blade of her weapon.
Around the courtyard, the Elders exchanged uneasy glances. Hayate’s gaze was sharp, calculating. Jhun’s lips pressed into a thin line, while Hitomi’s reclined leaned in her throne, resting her chin on her fist—watching, weighing, waiting.
Dr. Bhu’s voice echoed softly, a calm counterpoint to the mounting tension.
“The AIONS do not adhere to any one fighting style. Instead, they morph and adapt, shifting forms as necessary to overwhelm their target.”
The sentinel’s form began to ripple and flow like liquid.
First, it became a towering soldier, armor plates aligning into a classic warrior’s silhouette. Its right arm morphed into a massive hammer, pulsating with raw kinetic energy. Its ocular lenses glowed a fierce amber as it charged, a blur of motion that tested Mitsuko’s reflexes.
She dodged, rolling beneath the hammer’s crushing arc, and retaliated with a surge of crimson Naten that burst from her ax’s blade. The sentient metal hissed as it met her attack with an extended palm, absorbing the molten impact with unnerving ease.
Witnessing the clash, Elder Hayate muttered, “Impressive speed… but can it think beyond brute force?”
Without warning, the sentinel shifted again.
Its arm shrank and elongated, armor plates sliding into sleek curves. Blades extended from its wrists, and a long, segmented tail lashed behind it like a venomous whip. Its ocular lenses now shimmered an icy blue as it darted forward.
Mitsuko squared her stance to meet the beast with a flurry of swipes from her ax, beginning with a powerful horizontal strike but the sentinel moved like a shadow—too fast, too swift to properly track. Its form swiveled like liquid around her attacks and slashed Mitsuko along her side, the cold bite of its blade barely grazing her skin but sending a shock through her nerves.
Jhun whispered from the sidelines, “Hmph.. Impressive indeed..”
The sentinel’s body twisted once more—sprouting tentacles composed of dark metal from its shoulders, crackling with electrical energy. Each appendage then aimed their barrels toward Mitusko and unleashed a volley of arcane bolts—bathing the courtyard in blisters of light.
Mitsuko gritted her teeth, hiding behind the size of her Axe to shield against the onslaught. “Child’s play..” She hissed beneath gritted teeth. She tightened her grip along her ax before she slung mighty weapon as though it were a weightless disc. It tore through the volley of blasts and collided with the Sentinel with an explosive BOOM, sending the tenfoot machine sliding backward.
When the smoke cleared, Mitusko’s axe had already reappeared in her grip in a blister of crimson flames, and the towering machine was missing one third of its torso.
“Bullseye.” She murmured with a smile, but the AION remained standing—smoldering, but still standing. In moments, the machine regenerated its arm, chest and dismembered tentacle. Drawing shocked expressions from all but Doctor Bhu.
“Excellent.” He murmured, watching alongside Hitomi and her appointed council. “Truly excellent. It's performing far better than I anticipated. And this one of your more accomplished warriors?” Doctor Bhu asked, genuinely curious as to whether or not this was a proper gauge of the Sentinels ability. He was so enamored by its success that he didn't realize how offensive his question sounded..
Still, thr implications stung. No one chose to answer him.. and the silence drew all focus back to the center of the courtyard.
—-
The sentinel stood motionless for a beat after stitching itself back together. Mitusko hissed as she adopted a different stance, one telegraphing a more aggressive approach. “..well this might take a bit longer than I thought.” She said aloud as her axe began to steam with crimson smoke once again. “Let's see if you can come back from being dust.”
This caused the sentinel to shift its body accordingly, as though it had discerned an opening—or a weakness.
The heavy-footed titan’s posture lightened—its limbs thinning, realigning into inhuman geometry. Its newly formed fingers splayed wide, and long metallic tendrils erupted from its back and stabbed into the ground like the legs of some foreign insect.
“Ugh..” Mitsuko hesitated for a moment.. unnerved by its disurtbing appearance.
But those few seconds were enough for her for the sentinel to enact its assault.
The AION moved—not in a blur, but in a literal flash of light. It teleported its massive body directly behind Mitsuko, and one of its tendrils were driving toward her like a harpoon. Mitsuko instinctively spun to meet it, ax raised, but not before a tendril ripped clean through her abdomen—tossing blood and entrails in the air.
Mitsuko winced from the pain, but the visceral gash immediately regenerated—her mastery of Shōkotsu now honed to perfection following her training with Ayune, made the woman nearly unkillable.
And her skill and technique didn't miss a step.
Mitsuko spun around and used her axe to cleave directly into the abdomen of the mechanical predator—slinging metal and circuitry throughout the air from the molten blade.
Mitusko’s eyes flickered with pride watching her target launched violently toward the opposite end of the courtyard until it crashed into the wall of the arena.
“Is this what I'm to be impressed by?” Elder Jhun commented as he watched the battle down the length of his nose. “It seems rather inexperienced despite its array of abilities.”
But Doctor Bhu remained confident in his creation. “Look closely—Watch how the Sentinel moves now that it has adapted her attack patterns.”
In moments, The AION returned to the heat of battle—teleporting in front of Mitsuko before she had a chance to catch her breath. Its injuries were already mended, and it was brandishing several more tentacles.
A moment of panic flickered behind her eyes. She was forced into a defensive stance once the beast unleashed a slurry of strikes. Each one heavier than the last, faster than the last.. And though she managed to deflect and defend herself, her body was flayed in the process. A cut here, a gash there—she used her arm to block what her weapon couldn't deflect.
“She’s losing pace,” Hayate muttered grimly.
Mitsuko snarled and slammed her fist into the Sentinel's center mass. The sudden impact halted its assault, providing an opening for her to bring that mighty ax down in a bolt of crimson aimed at the sentinel’s skull—
But the AION was prepared—it had calculated this exact maneuver, and used three of its remaining tendrils to intercept Mitusko’s strike at just the right time. The impact of the collision shook the courtyard down to the foundation, and gouged a smouldering crater beneath them.
They struggled for less than a second against each other's might before the Sentinels its face split open like a blooming iron flower, revealing a dozen burning barrels all pointed at her head. And the blast it released was nothing less than hellish. Mitusko roared as she was engulfed in scorching a column of scarlet and white that intended to churn, burn, and char the Yaarou champion until there was nothing left for her to regenerate from.
-
Hitomi Yaarou
- Drifter
- Posts: 87
- Joined: Tue Nov 05, 2024 6:42 pm
Re: Price of Power II
The sentinel’s flamethrower roared at point-blank range, a spiraling column of scarlet and white designed to erase all within it. But through the inferno—through the blistering heat and pain—Mitsuko moved.
With a defiant roar, she slung her enormous ax in a wide arc. The weapon tore through the flames like a divine cleaver, unleashing a violent gale of force that shattered the inferno and sent shockwaves through the courtyard. The whirlwind dispersed the fire into glowing embers and cleared the air in an explosive burst of Naten-laced wind.
As the smoke peeled away, Mitsuko was revealed—charred to the bone.
Her garments were nearly gone, her armor reduced to smoldering scraps clinging to blackened flesh. Her body was a molten lattice of scorched muscle and exposed sinew, steam hissing from her frame. But in the silence that followed…
Her flesh began to knit.
In seconds, muscle reformed. Skin sealed. Her face regenerated behind a veil of heat and smoke, followed by strands of wild, untamed hair cascading back into place. She looked monstrous—reborn from the blaze with a crooked smile and embers still dancing across her skin.
What little clothing remained hung in tatters. Her form was barely covered. But her presence was undiminished.
“..that almost hurt.” she rasped. “..but I'm afraid your gonna' have to do better than that.”
The Sentinel obliged.
Its head returned to its original shape, smooth and featureless—then split vertically. A cavity opened in its metallic throat and began to vibrate.
Then came the sound.
A low, harmonic pulse unlike anything the courtyard had ever heard. At first, it was almost beautiful—until the resonance began to twist reality itself. The air shimmered. The courtyard groaned.
Hitomi’s eyes sharpened as she rose slightly in her seat.
The sound grew sharper—more focused—and Mitsuko staggered.
Her breath hitched. The ground wobbled beneath her feet.
Her command over Naten—once second nature—fractured. Energy faltered. Her limbs grew heavy. Healing halted mid-process.
“What… is this…?” she gasped, clutching her chest.
The AION had activated its most devastating weapon.
The frequency—once unique to a predatory species known as the Velkyr—was now artificially replicated. Designed to interfere with the formation, control, and stability of Naten within a 20-meter radius.
Mitsuko, a warrior whose every movement was enhanced by that sacred force—was left helpless.
But the Sentinel wasn’t done.
With a hiss, its arms shifted. A slick, black fluid oozed along the edge of its blades—Necromatter, a synthetic chemical engineered to bind with organic tissue and halt regeneration.
Hitomi leaned forward now, her stillness gone.
Her eyes narrowed at the combination of Velkyn resonance and Necromatter, her expression unreadable—but no longer passive.
The Sentinel struck.
No preamble. No warning.
It launched a flurry of attacks in a blur of red light. Mitsuko, no longer supported by her Naten, could barely react. She raised her arm—but the blade severed deep into her shoulder. Then her thigh. Her ribs. Her hip.
She tried to step back but her knees buckled. Her vision blurred. Her ax dropped with a dull clang. She collapsed to her knees, swaying, trying to summon her energy—any energy—but the Velkyn frequency still resonated through the air, unraveling her power.
The Sentinel loomed above her.
One blade cocked back, shimmering red.
It moved to end her.
“Stop!”
But then, Hitomi’s voice cracked like thunder across the courtyard, causing the Sentinel to freeze mid-swing.
The courtyard responded with a stunned silence.
The Elders looked on, stricken and speechless. Even Hayate had no words. Blood was splattered across the stones, and Mitsuko’s body lay broken and twitching—her wounds blackened by infection.
Only Doctor Kion Bhu broke the silence—with applause.
“Magnificent,” he said, slowly clapping his hands, utterly enthralled. “Truly magnificent. Tell me, Lady Xhi’on—are you not impressed?”
Hitomi rose from her throne, her expression unreadable. She turned her eyes to an attending soldier nearby. “Get her out of here. To the medical wing. Now.”
The soldier nodded and rushed toward Mitsuko, careful not to step too close to the Sentinel—still waiting in silent obedience.
Hitomi stepped down slowly, heels echoing across the stone. Her voice carried not just authority, but promise.
“..you've done well.” She said as her gaze studied the towering machine. “I see now why capturing the Velkyr was so important to you all.” Her eyes narrowed as she reflected on their expedition—she watched as the apex predator crippled an entire armada of B’halian soldiers. “..but have you built any more?” She asked casually. “I can't imagine a single unit being much help against a Bhalian Armada."
Dr. Bhu’s smile widened.
“Oh, I would agree,” he said, gesturing to the sentinel with pride swelling in his voice.
“Which is why each unit is capable of perfect replication.” He said, smiling at the growing shock along the Elder's faces. “Every model shares a memory, battle data, languages, maneuvers—everything—through a neural hive. If you were to give the order, this one could multiply into several hundred thousand copies… by nightfall.”
“Is that right?” Hitomi said, her eyes lit with intrigue. Bhu nodded in response. “By this time tomorrow, the Yaarou could have an army of Invincible killing machines at your fingertips.”
With a defiant roar, she slung her enormous ax in a wide arc. The weapon tore through the flames like a divine cleaver, unleashing a violent gale of force that shattered the inferno and sent shockwaves through the courtyard. The whirlwind dispersed the fire into glowing embers and cleared the air in an explosive burst of Naten-laced wind.
As the smoke peeled away, Mitsuko was revealed—charred to the bone.
Her garments were nearly gone, her armor reduced to smoldering scraps clinging to blackened flesh. Her body was a molten lattice of scorched muscle and exposed sinew, steam hissing from her frame. But in the silence that followed…
Her flesh began to knit.
In seconds, muscle reformed. Skin sealed. Her face regenerated behind a veil of heat and smoke, followed by strands of wild, untamed hair cascading back into place. She looked monstrous—reborn from the blaze with a crooked smile and embers still dancing across her skin.
What little clothing remained hung in tatters. Her form was barely covered. But her presence was undiminished.
“..that almost hurt.” she rasped. “..but I'm afraid your gonna' have to do better than that.”
The Sentinel obliged.
Its head returned to its original shape, smooth and featureless—then split vertically. A cavity opened in its metallic throat and began to vibrate.
Then came the sound.
A low, harmonic pulse unlike anything the courtyard had ever heard. At first, it was almost beautiful—until the resonance began to twist reality itself. The air shimmered. The courtyard groaned.
Hitomi’s eyes sharpened as she rose slightly in her seat.
The sound grew sharper—more focused—and Mitsuko staggered.
Her breath hitched. The ground wobbled beneath her feet.
Her command over Naten—once second nature—fractured. Energy faltered. Her limbs grew heavy. Healing halted mid-process.
“What… is this…?” she gasped, clutching her chest.
The AION had activated its most devastating weapon.
The frequency—once unique to a predatory species known as the Velkyr—was now artificially replicated. Designed to interfere with the formation, control, and stability of Naten within a 20-meter radius.
Mitsuko, a warrior whose every movement was enhanced by that sacred force—was left helpless.
But the Sentinel wasn’t done.
With a hiss, its arms shifted. A slick, black fluid oozed along the edge of its blades—Necromatter, a synthetic chemical engineered to bind with organic tissue and halt regeneration.
Hitomi leaned forward now, her stillness gone.
Her eyes narrowed at the combination of Velkyn resonance and Necromatter, her expression unreadable—but no longer passive.
The Sentinel struck.
No preamble. No warning.
It launched a flurry of attacks in a blur of red light. Mitsuko, no longer supported by her Naten, could barely react. She raised her arm—but the blade severed deep into her shoulder. Then her thigh. Her ribs. Her hip.
She tried to step back but her knees buckled. Her vision blurred. Her ax dropped with a dull clang. She collapsed to her knees, swaying, trying to summon her energy—any energy—but the Velkyn frequency still resonated through the air, unraveling her power.
The Sentinel loomed above her.
One blade cocked back, shimmering red.
It moved to end her.
“Stop!”
But then, Hitomi’s voice cracked like thunder across the courtyard, causing the Sentinel to freeze mid-swing.
The courtyard responded with a stunned silence.
The Elders looked on, stricken and speechless. Even Hayate had no words. Blood was splattered across the stones, and Mitsuko’s body lay broken and twitching—her wounds blackened by infection.
Only Doctor Kion Bhu broke the silence—with applause.
“Magnificent,” he said, slowly clapping his hands, utterly enthralled. “Truly magnificent. Tell me, Lady Xhi’on—are you not impressed?”
Hitomi rose from her throne, her expression unreadable. She turned her eyes to an attending soldier nearby. “Get her out of here. To the medical wing. Now.”
The soldier nodded and rushed toward Mitsuko, careful not to step too close to the Sentinel—still waiting in silent obedience.
Hitomi stepped down slowly, heels echoing across the stone. Her voice carried not just authority, but promise.
“..you've done well.” She said as her gaze studied the towering machine. “I see now why capturing the Velkyr was so important to you all.” Her eyes narrowed as she reflected on their expedition—she watched as the apex predator crippled an entire armada of B’halian soldiers. “..but have you built any more?” She asked casually. “I can't imagine a single unit being much help against a Bhalian Armada."
Dr. Bhu’s smile widened.
“Oh, I would agree,” he said, gesturing to the sentinel with pride swelling in his voice.
“Which is why each unit is capable of perfect replication.” He said, smiling at the growing shock along the Elder's faces. “Every model shares a memory, battle data, languages, maneuvers—everything—through a neural hive. If you were to give the order, this one could multiply into several hundred thousand copies… by nightfall.”
“Is that right?” Hitomi said, her eyes lit with intrigue. Bhu nodded in response. “By this time tomorrow, the Yaarou could have an army of Invincible killing machines at your fingertips.”
-
Hitomi Yaarou
- Drifter
- Posts: 87
- Joined: Tue Nov 05, 2024 6:42 pm
Re: The Price of Power II
The Elders watched the machine as its smooth alloy faceplate sealed once more, blades retracting, standing idle— Mitsuko’s blood still dripping from its limbs. And trepidation etched deep scowls into each of their faces.
“Several hundred thousand… by nightfall.”
Doctor Bhu’s words echoed like a sickness in their minds..
Elder Hayate stepped forward, his voice brittle but laced with resolve. “That… this is madness.”
“And you truly propose we allow this?” Elder followed, his brow tight with something far closer to fear than apprehension. “Machines… countless machines, bred without end? Without flaw? Where is the limit to this, Lady Xhi’on?”
Elder Ayune's voice, the softest among them, came last. Quiet but shaking. “How can we rest beneath the shadow of something lifeless? Empty.. Cold.”
Hitomi said nothing at first. She stood, hands relaxed at her sides, expression unreadable as she studied the machine. And then..
“Build my army.” Her command was flat. Unemotional, yet it triggered a ripple of gasps from the faces of her council behind her.
And the Sentinel obeyed without question. Without ceremony. It simply extended its arms, allowing thin filaments of liquid alloy to begin dripping from its fingers onto the stone—bubbling, coalescing. In moments limbs formed from the amorphous puddle—followed by a body, and a face.
With a gleam, its ocular lenses flickered to life. And that copy continued the process, until there were three. Then ten. Then twenty.
Each Identical.
Each perfect.
Elder Hayate’s voice cracked. “You’re replacing us.”
Hitomi’s gaze flicked to him, but her tone was dismissive. “Oh don't be so dramatic.”
She extended a hand without looking, and Doctor Bhu approached—producing a slim, metallic device, no larger than his palm. He pressed it into hers with reverence.
“The kill protocols, as promised,” he said softly. “And the complete operations archive. Every safeguard is there, should any unit deviate from your parameters.”
She examined it for a heartbeat. “Thank you, Doctor.”
“Of course, Lady Xhi’on.”
Her voice shifted—sharp again. “Tell your Monarch he disappointed me. I expected his presence, not a proxy.”
Bhu hesitated. Then bowed. “I will relay your message.”
She didn’t watch him go, her eyes rested on her growing armada—multiplying throughout the courtyard. Doctor Bhu extended a bow to the Yaarou council before he proceeded to his ship instead, and their eyes lingering on the Hyperian vessel until it vanished beyond the clouds.
Only when the last echo of its engines faded did Elder Jhun speak again, stepping forward with fists clenched.
“This is wrong.”
Hitomi didn’t turn.
“This… is dangerous.”
Still, she said nothing.
“We are your council, your advisors. You are Xhi'on yes, but even the Stormbringer heeded his elders.”
At last, her head turned slightly, crimson eyes half-lidded.
Elder Jhun stepped closer. “..a machine cannot bleed for the Yaarou. They cannot embody our will—your will.” He exclaimed, his gaze begrudgingly drawn to the amassing battalion of metal warriors. His fists tightened further. “You know this to be true, Hitomi.. They are not family. They are not blood of our blood.”
Hitomi's voice returned, only colder than ever before.
“No… they are better.”
She motioned to the Sentinels now multiplying behind her in eerie synchronicity—rows upon rows of identical titans.
“They do not tire. They do not falter. They don’t fail. And they do not question.” The Elders fell silent behind her edged tone. “No one is replacing you. These machines will not lead our acolytes, or influence the political trajectory of the clan—they are simply meant to kill my enemies.”
She said, turning her back to them.
“I am done with this—Go find other matters to concern yourselves with,” she added. “From this point on, these grounds will be dedicated to the development of the AION sentinels. Evacuate the grounds immediately.”
She said in stride toward the nearest Sentinels and tapped it along its metallic hide, instructing it to fall into step beside her like a loyal hound as the Elders watched helplessly. “W-wait my Paragon.” Ayune exclaimed. “Where are you going? We should discuss the implications—”
“I'm going to the northern yard to see just how fast they learn. That will be all." Hitomi interjected coldly, without once turning to face them. She was done talking. Her mind was now more fixated on her future than ever before. She was visualizing the borders of Edo, reinforced by the Yaarou's new found power. Where the elders felt dread, Hitomi saw security. A blanket across all of Edo.
If Bhalia planned to come to Qiyoto, Hitomi finally felt as if they'd be ready.
“Several hundred thousand… by nightfall.”
Doctor Bhu’s words echoed like a sickness in their minds..
Elder Hayate stepped forward, his voice brittle but laced with resolve. “That… this is madness.”
“And you truly propose we allow this?” Elder followed, his brow tight with something far closer to fear than apprehension. “Machines… countless machines, bred without end? Without flaw? Where is the limit to this, Lady Xhi’on?”
Elder Ayune's voice, the softest among them, came last. Quiet but shaking. “How can we rest beneath the shadow of something lifeless? Empty.. Cold.”
Hitomi said nothing at first. She stood, hands relaxed at her sides, expression unreadable as she studied the machine. And then..
“Build my army.” Her command was flat. Unemotional, yet it triggered a ripple of gasps from the faces of her council behind her.
And the Sentinel obeyed without question. Without ceremony. It simply extended its arms, allowing thin filaments of liquid alloy to begin dripping from its fingers onto the stone—bubbling, coalescing. In moments limbs formed from the amorphous puddle—followed by a body, and a face.
With a gleam, its ocular lenses flickered to life. And that copy continued the process, until there were three. Then ten. Then twenty.
Each Identical.
Each perfect.
Elder Hayate’s voice cracked. “You’re replacing us.”
Hitomi’s gaze flicked to him, but her tone was dismissive. “Oh don't be so dramatic.”
She extended a hand without looking, and Doctor Bhu approached—producing a slim, metallic device, no larger than his palm. He pressed it into hers with reverence.
“The kill protocols, as promised,” he said softly. “And the complete operations archive. Every safeguard is there, should any unit deviate from your parameters.”
She examined it for a heartbeat. “Thank you, Doctor.”
“Of course, Lady Xhi’on.”
Her voice shifted—sharp again. “Tell your Monarch he disappointed me. I expected his presence, not a proxy.”
Bhu hesitated. Then bowed. “I will relay your message.”
She didn’t watch him go, her eyes rested on her growing armada—multiplying throughout the courtyard. Doctor Bhu extended a bow to the Yaarou council before he proceeded to his ship instead, and their eyes lingering on the Hyperian vessel until it vanished beyond the clouds.
Only when the last echo of its engines faded did Elder Jhun speak again, stepping forward with fists clenched.
“This is wrong.”
Hitomi didn’t turn.
“This… is dangerous.”
Still, she said nothing.
“We are your council, your advisors. You are Xhi'on yes, but even the Stormbringer heeded his elders.”
At last, her head turned slightly, crimson eyes half-lidded.
Elder Jhun stepped closer. “..a machine cannot bleed for the Yaarou. They cannot embody our will—your will.” He exclaimed, his gaze begrudgingly drawn to the amassing battalion of metal warriors. His fists tightened further. “You know this to be true, Hitomi.. They are not family. They are not blood of our blood.”
Hitomi's voice returned, only colder than ever before.
“No… they are better.”
She motioned to the Sentinels now multiplying behind her in eerie synchronicity—rows upon rows of identical titans.
“They do not tire. They do not falter. They don’t fail. And they do not question.” The Elders fell silent behind her edged tone. “No one is replacing you. These machines will not lead our acolytes, or influence the political trajectory of the clan—they are simply meant to kill my enemies.”
She said, turning her back to them.
“I am done with this—Go find other matters to concern yourselves with,” she added. “From this point on, these grounds will be dedicated to the development of the AION sentinels. Evacuate the grounds immediately.”
She said in stride toward the nearest Sentinels and tapped it along its metallic hide, instructing it to fall into step beside her like a loyal hound as the Elders watched helplessly. “W-wait my Paragon.” Ayune exclaimed. “Where are you going? We should discuss the implications—”
“I'm going to the northern yard to see just how fast they learn. That will be all." Hitomi interjected coldly, without once turning to face them. She was done talking. Her mind was now more fixated on her future than ever before. She was visualizing the borders of Edo, reinforced by the Yaarou's new found power. Where the elders felt dread, Hitomi saw security. A blanket across all of Edo.
If Bhalia planned to come to Qiyoto, Hitomi finally felt as if they'd be ready.
The team