A Magical Anomaly
Main 1
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Choice Made:
Weapons:
* [X] An arm torn from a beast no man-made weapon could harm, yet man themselves did (Grendels Arm. Lore is not always what it seems).
* [X] A seven headed spear said to be made from the remains of a sea monster. (Gae Bolg indeed… but more!)
* [X] A sword whose edges are blunt and whose tip was broken by angels to stop a wrongful killing. (Curtana) (Tied vote, so a third weapon, congrats)
Equipment:
[X] A coat fashioned from the scales of a dragon felled by a welp, resistant to flame and water both. (Babr-e Bayan.)
[X] A halo of light said to heal all injuries. (Angel’s Halo)
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‘Hmm. Some interesting choices. But a rather balanced set, I shall allow that third weapon. Do not, expect me to be so generous next time.’
You nod to the Voice as she hums, the parchment in your hands rotting and melting into a clear, slimy liquid that makes you shudder before she talks once again.
‘Then, if you are ready, we shall start the conversion.’
A table made of the darkest metal you’ve ever seen snaps into existence near you, five items radiating with power appearing on it before a black cloth settles over each item, snuffing out that power from your senses.
You feel thick, oily tendrils wrap around your legs and under your shoulders as you’re lifted into the air for a moment. They twist and twitch, moving you around and laying you down flat on the white tile floor.
‘I won’t ask for forgiveness for that, but do know it was necessary. Apparently, Fae first contact rules allow myself to move you around without breaking this stop on time… I should explain this before you convert I suppose. More exposition, always fun’
She takes a breath.
‘I will be masquerading as a Fae for my stay here.’
You interrupt her with a why. And she sighs.
‘I very much doubt you would like to be a target for every single Magical on this ball of dust at the current moment. The Fae don’t look too kindly on those of my… well, kind. I shall be, as much as it pains me to say, hiding, as one of those annoying creatures upon your transformation. As a positive. It means you will finally be able to revel in my physical form…. Unfortunately. It also means I will be limited to their restrictions… of which there are many. They dislike temporal magic, with a vengeance, yet they use it for their newly inducted. Ugh, hypocrites. My powers will be limited, their range even more so. But we can discuss that later’
You feel like now would be a great time to discuss them, but you don’t get to think that at her before you’re suddenly crushed by an intense pressure.
Your vision goes white, then black, then white again.
Your ears pop, and you feel your skin peeling off of your form.
Your nerves burn in the open air.
Something tears.
Something shatters.
Glass shards are sent flying in all directions as a pair of crystals form from the shards.
One purple and black, the two colour’s rotating around each other like what you imagine an oil slick to look like from above.
One a kaleidoscope of colours one moment, then the purest white the next, in constant flux, yet constant all the same.
It hurts your head to make sense of the two. So you don’t try to.
A giggle ripples out from behind you again.
Then it becomes a full blown annoyed laugh. Almost hysterical for a moment
‘Ahh… Fate truly is an incredibly cruel annoyance… your meddling is unwelcome upon my host. Be lucky that I am bound to Fae rules for now. I shall be exacting my pound of flesh from your delinquent form once I am free.’
You go to question why again. But she shushes you.
‘Probably something to worry about. But we shall discuss that once this is over. I have enough distractions to deal with. Go away Changebringer!’
The crystals slink into your body… and then they shatter. Icy shards that burn hot traveling all over your body before a feeling of emptiness encompasses your being.
You're so… lonely…
Why?
Why are you lonely?
An unknown amount of time passes. It could be seconds… it could have been millena… you don’t really know.
But that feeling is blown away all at once. A million eyes watch you now. Surround you on all sides.
And then are you.
You see yourself.
A pitch black outline among the starry sky.
Two glowing cores make up your body as veins of purple and black lace your body.
Your skin appears again.
And your eyes open.
And then all of a sudden, you’re back on the floor.
Gasping for breath and coughing, a thick rainbow slime trailing from your mouth before it vanishes into nothingness.
‘Well. I do believe that was a successful conversion. Congratulations are in order I believe. You, Filia, are now a Magical girl. I would pop streamers if I had them, unfortunately all I have are tentacles and rage.’
She sighs.
‘Face me’
You take a moment more to breathe, and then feel oily tendrils prop you up to a sitting position. All your muscles feel tight, but they also feel warm. Like what you imagine you feel after a long day of exercise.
You shake off the fog.
And stare at the black dressed, red and brown eyed fairy in front of you…
What is with today and fairies?
‘Fairy?! I am no fairy you ch-’
The Voice attempts to chide you… and then looks down at herself. Letting out a growl that sounds like a hundred animals you don’t know about all at once.
‘Those meddling, insufferable bastards… First you ditch being existential terrors of the darkest of realities to go play ‘ cute anime girls’ or something! And now this!’
She keeps ranting for a few moments. Swearing and shouting in a language you don’t understand. You think it’s swearing? It honestly sounds like two wet dish cloths smacking together. Eventually, she just huffs in annoyance. Crossing her arms over her chest and looking back at you. You smile back at her, rather happy to be able to see your… patron? Is she your patron now?
‘I would be called as such, yes. Or you may call me Elly. I have taken that name, for it is appropriate for a Fae to be named.’
You nod at her. And then you come to realize… you’re a magical girl now… shouldn’t you be feeling different?
Her sigh does not bode well.
‘On one hand, you should. Even in your untransformed state, you should be as strong as an adult of your species. Yet, the meddling of fate delays your start… Or has set you on the back foot for quite the lengthy period of time.’
She probably senses your confusion as she continues.
‘Normal magical girls, have a certain amount of mana on their conversion. Let us say they have fifty points. With a maximum of one hundred. You have zero. With a maximum of zero…’
…You’re shocked… and then more confused. A little disheartened too you think… You’re just a girl then?
‘On the contrary, this technically makes you a better magical girl. You’re what other Magicals refer to as a [NAILS ON A CHALKBOARD]’
Your ears ring and you clutch your head as something presses heavily against. When you blink the tears away, Elly is groaning, a hand on her face that she slowly slides off.
‘Why… why is that fu- Why is that censored! WHO in their right mind censors that information Argh!’
She flicks her hand, and you watch one of the shelves fold and compress. One moment there, the next a tiny ball of steel about the size of a can of soda.
‘Great. Just… perfect. I can’t tell you what you are. Wonderful.’
You hear pages ruffle, and watch as she skims through a book about twice her size. Runes you can’t read sketching out a title that hurts your eyes.
‘Can’t tell you that, can’t tell you this. Na na na, ah. Wonderful… Only another magical girl can tell you what you are… and then I can explain it. Just… perfect. Argh!’
She hurls the book away, it flutters through the air before an inky black tendril shreds it to pieces in a morbidly curious display.
‘I am calm. I am Noble. I am not about to just say fuck it and reset this reality. I’ve come too far for that. Look. Let’s just say that stuff about you is weird. There happens to more I would like to explain. Quite a lot in fact. But the restrictions on the Fae limit me. As such, for both our safety. Or yours at the very least. I will refrain… lets just look at your gear… can’t even see a girl in a cute magical girl costume nooo~’
She grumbles as the invisible tendrils prop you up, and then float you towards the table. Elly sits primly on your shoulder as though her anger was an illusion.
‘I will allow you to walk on your power in a bit. Almost done.’
The clothes covering the items melt into drops of dark liquid before vanishing. Blasting you in the face with a pressure that makes your hair stand on end. Your vision flickers, slightly darkening from the force, but raw force of will forces it back into focus. Much to Elly’s approving hum.
‘First of the treasures I entrust to you, the Angels Halo. A holy article said to heal all wounds. I wish it were faster, and less mana intensive, but it will serve its purpose.’
The halo is… bright. Blindingly so. Yet, you can look at it without it burning your eyes in a strange paradox of brightness and comfort. It radiates a comfortable warmth, and your hands are drawn to its immaculate surface.
Something throbs from your hand, a cold shiver running down your spine as you touch the halo of pure light.
The light shudders. Dims, and then vanishes. The warm comfort becomes a reassuring chill that snaps the world into even greater focus. A black hole that draws the shadows towards you. Your right hand, your scarred hand, draws the light forward, and what little of your scar that you see, pulls the darkness further and further inward.
‘Hm, curious.’
You turn to Elly, but she waves you off.
‘Your subconscious does not wish to heal the scar it seems… or perhaps it has been with you long enough that it is no longer recognized by the halo as an injury… very curious. We shall investigate at a later date. Where was I… The halo heals slowly, but it heals. You won’t perish in the face of a lack of life essence in your mortal form, and transformed, any mana you would leak from injuries will not be as harsh. Your form can still be dispelled. If you suffer grievous enough injury. But as long as it does not knock you out of your transformation, you will heal from it.’
You ponder that for a moment. And then nod. The black hole that was a halo settling over your head as eddies of purple light slowly wisp out of its pitch black surface.
And then you’re pushed to the side. Sliding over the tiles as though they never once had friction to stop you.
‘What once was a coat made from the scales of a dragon, now becomes something to shield you from the hottest of flames and the coldest of ice. [Babr-e Bayan].
You didn’t hear it before, still stunned from the intense pressure. But the names have… more to them. Like you can feel their legend and age with every syllable uttered. They engrave themselves inside you somewhere. Making you feel heavier, or more dense… more real?
It might have been a coat as Elly had said, Though now it’s more like a… sleeve? Long and cylindrical, with tiny ridges and bumps that shine like metal up its surface. The metal shifts and warps. Darkening as you get closer, Settling on a deeper blue colour as you put it on. A trio of large plates grow out of the surface, settling comfortably on your shoulder like a large pauldron… yet you don’t feel unbalanced, nor do you feel heavier.
A shimmering barrier of hexes forms around you for a moment. Shining red and icy blue before it fades. Vanishing from sight and only leaving faint embers that dissipate as well.
‘Hmm, a barrier in this reality then. I suppose it makes sense. Your… restrictions happen to mean you lack the normal barriers a magical girl would have. This will have to do until your costume is available for use. [Babr-e Bayan] is meant to serve as an anti elemental barrier it seems. It’ll help dissipate the force of physical hit, moderately, but it’s best against a heat or liquid based attack… surprisingly vague on what the means though. Interesting indeed. Well, Next! To the weapons!’
You don’t get much chance to react as the table is, for lack of a better phrase, pushed sideways through reality. A stand of weapons sitting in front of you in less than an instant as though it had always been there. A red spear, An odd sword in a red sheath, and… is that severed arm?.
‘Odd isn’t it?’
Before you can blink. The arm is in your hand before it shifts and warps. Flesh peeling off and metal taking its place as it… melds with your left one.
‘[Grendel’s arm]. Torn off by the Hero Beowulf. In most versions of reality. She was no beast. But from this particular one. She was quite the ferocious and powerful one. Many men died. Leaving only Beowulf himself to face and rout her. You now bear her arm. Congrats.’
The arm is metal… though it's more of a gauntlet now you notice. A blink, and an identical one snaps into place on your other hand. Merging seamlessly with [Babr-e Bayan] . Ugh. Even thinking of its name makes you feel weird.
Dense black plates of metal engraved with runic patterns cover the palms and fingers. Swirling constellations and circles of magic you assume. Your forearms are… weird… Where there should be metal or flesh, is instead nothing… your hands hover in front of you, and strings of ethereal white light form a vague wireframe like your arms… Uh… what?
‘They have an official classification apparently. Huh. Probably censored or something stupid. Simple explanation?’
You nod your head as you examine what you have so far.
‘You can push magic or something called Charges into those gauntlets. And in turn, your physical hits will deal much more damage then they should physically be able to do. Charges regenerate at around one every minute. And your gauntlets store ten passively. More can be stored as you get stronger… though it doesn’t list how it does so… or how to make the gauntlets stronger… or how to push charges into them… Useless’
There’s… something in the back of your head… an instinctual understanding of the basics… you think? Like you know how to throw a punch properly… but not much else other than that.
‘Two more to go. Let's see… I suppose leaving the most destructive for last would be prudent. [Curtana]’
The sword appears in your hands, and you stumble a bit at the weight. Heavier than you expected.
Once more the metal warps. The sheathe and blade flatten in your hands, rounding into a cylindrical form, the handle follows, thickening a little and extending into what you imagine is a stock for a gun. Wire wraps itself around the stock, and then softens into padding of sorts. Dials and knobs appear on the side and runic symbols burn themselves into the red of the metal. A wolf scurries around on the barrel before setting into one side, gold embroidery and inscriptions cover the other in alien-like runes as the weapon audibly hums in your hands. A subtle vibration gives you a sense of energy and excitement for some reason.
Elly tilts her head at the weapon, sighing to herself about how ‘the future does not understand the value of a good blade.’ and how [Curtana] ‘should have been a gunblade at the very least’.
‘Well. A Sonic blaster will have to do. A weapon embodying the virtues of mercy. While this won’t directly kill anyone or thing, it will do wonders at distracting and disorienting them. The blast is powerful enough to knock someone off their feet at closer ranges, and will burst eardrums and hearing devices. Think of it as a shotgun if you will. A non-lethal one… it also ignores barriers. Huh. I suppose that's useful.’
Having something non-lethal is probably a good thing. Can always use it to capture a magical girl alive or so. A dead magical girl probably doesn’t bode well for the type of villain you want to be… maybe… you haven’t decided on that yet. More for future you to do.
‘Quite. And onto the last one of the day. [Gae Bolg]’
The name feels different… Maybe it's how hearing it leaves your mouth as though you’ve tasted blood. An iron-like taste that makes you shiver as the red spear settles in your hand.
Whispers of blood and death float through your mind as you hold it, the metal warping and shifting in your hands as a fog settles over your thoughts for the briefest moment.
A scream ripples out, sharp, and like crackling glass mixed with a foghorn. An image of a ship sailing through a storm, foggy night fills your head before its bright spotlight fills your view.
The fog is gone. And while the whispers are still there, they’re muted. Almost as though they shiver.
Elly hums at you. And your attention is back on the weapon… it’s… a big gun. Almost as tall as you are. The barrel is thin, split down its center where red energy crackles between seven rows of teeth. The energy is thick and viscous, less like lightning, and more like drops of blood. It makes you shiver.
‘Technically, it would be described as a beam rifle. Or a laser rifle. Gae Bolg’s legend calls it a seven headed spear. And in accordance with that. The weapon is now more of a beam cannon I suppose. Seven shots before a recharge is needed. But each kill with it charges it again. Or you can wait exactly twenty eight seconds. Apparently it has seven different modes of use. But I’m only seeing two. A single but precise shot, and something called… and I quote ‘ Spear of Carnage’’
You notice a counter near the scope, a seven displayed in red on its black surface, and the scope itself also seems to list the number of charges. There's a picture of a spear engraved along the top prong of the barrel, hundreds of notches carved into the bottom, a tally. Finally you look at the stock… and see that there's a man carved into it. Where the weapon is red, the man's hair is blue, and his body… It's actually more of a cartoonish figure. You think Alice called it Chibi? He’s got the spear behind his back. And seems to be winking at you. Huh.
The world shudders.
The grays of the background fade out and colour returns as something crashes into the floor outside. Metal scrapes on flooring and you multiple clicks and screeches that make you freeze for a moment.
‘Well, That seems like appropriate timing I would say.’
Something crashes against the metal shutter of the pharmacy. You see metal claws embedded into the thick metal as they slowly start to tear down.
It's kind of strange… You should be more scared… you still shiver at the sound, the memory of the pain in your shoulder as phantom claws cleave into it…
But maybe having a weapon in your hand helps.
You drop onto one of your knees. Hefting the surprisingly weighty weapon onto the counter.
You spot a dial, and seeing only one spear or seven, keep it on the seven.
The weapon seems to almost rumble in your hands. Your fingers fall on the trigger. And light gathers along its teeth. A spear of the brightest red light you’ve ever seen forms in between the prongs as you take a deep breath. Calming your nerves as you point the sight a little lower than where the claws are.
And then you pull the trigger.
And then you’re sent flying into the wall. Weapon flying from your hands as the force of the blast sends you tumbling head off feet with your back slamming into the wall.
You don’t get to see what it's like to fire the weapon.
There's a red flash of light, a deep boom of sound, and a blossom of intense scorching heat. [Babr-e Bayan]’s Barrier snaps into place and then shatters to pieces as heat fills your world and scorches your breaths.
There's nothing in front of you.
The entire shop front is vaporised.
The entire wall is gone.
The entire floor in front of you is gone.
Hell you’re sure the wall to the outside of the building is gone, you can see the sunlight and hexagonal plates of the barrier from where you are.
You stare open mouthed as the building creaks ominously. For once, the fear is gone… just… what.
‘Well, we seem to know what this ‘ Spear of Carnage’ does… Perhaps we should not use it inside a building next time..’
You spend a few moments in stupefaction… and just nod. Closing your mouth before that FEAR can become too much. An idle hand flicks the now inert looking weapon to single spear. And you look for a place to stow it. A hundred eyes surround its form all at once, an inky blackness that chills your soul forms around it. And then it vanishes from view… what?
‘You do not have an inventory like other magicals. More stuff I can’t tell you I’m afraid. The Others are taking care of the gear you can’t hold. Just will it into existence and it shall come. As all legends and heroes do’
… and then are left with a question… Now what…?
‘I would suggest closing whatever rift allowed the creatures you fight onto this level. Then waiting for rescue. Or fighting your way to the lower levels… The Fae archive. The book, lists these as Tier 2 creatures. Whatever that means, I imagine Tier 1 or so would be easier. And they should either be higher or lower on the tower. I would assume lower.’
You nod at that.
‘Just get me closer to the tear. I can close it once I am. Standard Fae procedure it seems’
You take a breath. Nod. And summon…
[ x ] [Grendel’s Arm] It may be super close range, but it’s lethal, and you can experiment with how charges work on the way towards the courtyard where the rift was.
Stolen novel; please report.