Man come up with many many excuse, but neer more dan few reason to war. Listen close child, blood be shed for three reasons and three reasons only since dawn of time. Land, love an revenge. -Audio recording salvaged from ruins of subterranean Citadel Kingdom of Wheeler Peak attributed to late Spirit Speaker Gordon Maggoteater
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Igni wasn’t exactly sure why he kept being drafted for these social kinds of jobs, but given everyone of higher status was drafted doing into more important things and few people lower than him had much more experience in the field he found himself standing before the huddled group of scared refugees feeling as in his element as a sand-fish in water. Nonetheless he, alongside the admittedly much better suited Nicole, were necessary if only to prevent the shaken group of mortals from jumping at the first sign of a bump in the dark.
After doing his best to reassure the apparent leader of the group of thirty road-weary and scarred individuals, a wiry man marked by the Great Famine in every aspect of his frail looking body named Gangren and his son, that the strange slop Nicole excreted was not in fact deadly poison, keeping his personal doubts on the matter to himself of course, he consulted the small woman about the plans for the group. Something was odd about them, he had to admit, he was no psychic but for their story about being refugees from a single village their accents were just slightly too varied. Scratching his stone chin he decided that while he was at it he should consult with the closest thing there was to an expert here.
“Anything weird about the group?” He asked the short psychic hovering a short distance behind him.
“Hm, there is something strange about their psychic signatures but nothing that cannot be explained by enough trauma.” Nicole mused, a concerned look flashing across oversized eyes. “Prying further psychically is more likely to do harm than it is to do us any meaningful good either. Unless they are willing to open up themselves our arms are tied.”
“I know, and they haven’t tripped any of the warding formations that would check for things of concern… but I have a strange feeling in my gut.” Igni said as much to himself as to Nicole.
“Well in the meantime the tournament is on hold until further notice, why don’t we put them beneath the arena? It only takes a few short modifications for the cells down there to be converted into quarters enough to comfortably house all of them.” Nicole suggested with a hum.
Igni shifted uncomfortably, making the sound of two granite blocks grinding against one another. “I can’t believe I am the one saying this here but that seems a bit cold doesn’t it? Dubious story or not, these people are by our best reckoning entirely truthful about being scared refugees and we want to put them in the same pens as spirit beasts used in the Trials?”
“Where else do you suggest? The Lead Cave? The prison?” Nicole huffed.
Igni sighed. “Fine, i’ll inform them of the arrangement then.”
“You know Igni, ever since you were an Aspirant, you have a softer heart than you admit under all that rock.” Nicole mused.
Igni responded with a noncommittal grunt as he walked over to address the group of distant eyed refugees. Some of the younger members were listlessly tracing lines in the dirt, eyes focused a thousand miles away. He cleared his throat loudly to get their attention, drawing two and a half dozen gazes his way. “Right! For the time being, until the siege is over, you lot will be staying in the cells under the arena. Of course this won’t be a permanent arrangement and they will be modified for your comfort, but due to practical and security concerns unfortunately this is the best option we have at the moment!”
“You intend to keep us in pens like animals?” A feverish looking young man with scalded red skin yelled out, to a chorus of similar, almost synchronous exclamations of displeasure in his peers.
“What did we do to deserve this! We just wanted to fucking survive!” Another practically screamed, or at least the best scream he could manage with a chest as thin as it was. Nonetheless the fear, anger and indignation of the group of refugees reached a boiling point as the signature first steps towards an angry mob forming started to make themselves terribly known. The crowd so obviously lost in herd emotion that it didn’t matter how dogshit Igni’s own psychic senses were.
He felt the wave of psychic power let out by Nicole wash over him, stunning the crowd into silence as she composed herself with a breath before addressing them. “I understand your fears and anxieties, trust us when we say that this is not an ideal circumstance either, but with an army approaching possibly led to us by your movements we cannot afford to let go of any security precautions. Once more this is simply a temporary outcome! Are we all clear on that?”
The silence was apparently answer enough as she gave a satisfied nod. “Good, i’m sorry about all this, I truly am, but you will be treated with dignity despite the circumstances. You have my word as a Matron of the Lead Cave.”
“What happens after?” A young woman who couldn’t have weighed much more than the cloth on her body. He had seen this far too often, especially during the Great Famine when the skies went dark for years and even with the interference of Cunningham crops struggled to even push their way out of the tainted earth.
“We will cross that bridge once we get there, but first let’s get some corn water into you.” He spoke authoritatively yet with as much warmth as he could muster.
War was always a nasty thing, but at the very least it would all be over soon enough.
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“You really never find a good time to break bad news do you John?” Alexander sighed as he rubbed his third hand through his thin hair. Elder Aurelium was busy with matters pertaining to the army apparently marching towards the gates, apparently beelining against all common sense towards the Sect, and thus could not make it. Alexander was clearly making up for the exasperation of the older Aurelium with his own in spades, forehead deeply furrowed and muscles which didn’t even exist on a normal human tensed like tightly wound coils.
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“I neither expected or chose this!” John defended. “It just sort of happened!”
“I know that, and that hardly makes it any better.” Alexander sighed. “I know the likely answer, but I have to ask, was it…”
John looked towards the eyes dotting his right arm, and in the silence that followed found his answer. “Yeah. ARTOS got me back.”
“It goes a lot deeper than we thought then.” Alexander said with a serious expression. Pale blue eyes looking down with an intensity that seemed as though he was trying to drill through the ground with his will alone.
“...but even if it was the case ARTOS only took over to help…” John offered, looking deeply into his right arm. “It hasn’t tried to hurt me or anything.”
Alexander grunted and shifted visibly uncomfortably. “It isn’t about what it has done so much as what it means it can do. Do you know what it wants?”
John opened his mouth to speak but paused. He… didn’t have a ready answer for that actually. He vaguely knew what ARTOS was designed to do, but lately it has been more and more obvious what it was designed to do had little to do with what it actually could nowadays. What did it want.
[YOU SHOULD KNOW WHAT I WANT. I WANT THE SAME THINGS AS YOU.] ARTOS offered, speaking up at last in his brain.
“They say they want the same things as me.” He said slowly.
“Said hm… I thought the machine didn’t speak much as of late compared to when you first got it? And you say that as though it has its own proper opinion on the matter.” Alexander noted.
“Ah… I did neglect to mention that did I…” John said nervously, rubbing the back of his head. “I uh… things have changed somewhat?”
“And you neglected to bring it up why?” Alexander asked with cold sternness which made John wince.
[IF IT THREATENS OUR EXISTENCE DO NOT BE AFRAID OF LYING.] ARTOS ‘suggested’, worry infusing the intrusive thought-like pseudo voice it used.
“Well at first I might have just… not thought that far ahead… it did happen shortly before my first round in the arena and I didn’t spare it much thought.” He answered. “But afterwards Magni found out and we talked about it with Cobalt and it was decided that since removing it at this point is liable to kill me and I personally don’t think it has done anything wrong we could afford to let it be for now. After all we didn’t want people unnecessarily freaking out over something that as far as we know nobody knows anything about.”
Alexander let out a long, weary sigh. “Are all teenagers like this? Bomb me to cinders… well at the very least you seem yourself. The same can’t be said about the Fleshwelded Knights, though ironically even they don’t have as close of a relationship with their metallic steeds as you do with your Relic. And they often choose to atrophy entire organ systems out of underuse to focus mutations into being a better pilot!”
[POSSIBLY REFERRING TO THE GOLIATH SUIT PROGRAM, NEXT GENERATION NEURAL INTEGRATED BIPEDAL WAR WALKER MODELS. PRIMITIVE PRECURSOR TO THE ARTOS PROGRAM.] ARTOS offered, incongruous information flooding his mind alongside images, words and numbers he couldn’t understand.
“Well what do you propose we do about it?” John snapped with frustration as he fought the headache.
Alexander actually slumped forward looking lost, which elicited a jab of guilt in John. “I honestly do not know. As of now the Sect is soon to be at siege and is still likely to be the safest place around, my father will be extremely busy administering the Sect with the other elders away and I do not wish to put this in his lap in times as trying as these.” He started. “But no matter what we will figure this out together. This I promise.”
“Together.” John agreed with a small smile.
ARTOS remained silent.
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“Cobalt.” The authoritative voice of her father rang through the empty room. It was not bolstered by any released power, it was barely any louder than a regular conversation and the tone was about as soft as the man could manage. Yet it still carried his tyrannical presence, as though his soul had carved its way into the very essence of his words.
“Father.” She responded as simply with a small, polite bow. For there was not much else that could be offered.
“Remember our little discussion before the tournament? About you taking up the family business?” He hummed. She could feel her heart beat in her chest.
“Yes.” She said quietly, already knowing the words that would come out of Argamemnon’s mouth next.
Her father nodded and let out a little hum from his lower set of jaws. “I apologise for the interruption to your match, I know how eager you are for such things, but this little foolish incursion offers an opportunity for growth to you.”
“You want me to go with you now?” She asked, though she knew well the answer.
“It gives us both what we want doesn’t it? I get to finally teach you in a suitable environment what it means to be a Phagos, and you get to run off for your little arrangement with Cinnabar earlier.” Agamemnon said almost warmly, resting a massive clawed hand on her shoulder as he got down on one knee to look her in the eyes. “I don’t particularly mind the woman believe it or not, annoying and soft she may be at times, and I recognise you possibly see her more as a parent than you ever will me. But there are some things she cannot teach you, and for that I would grasp any opportunity as it comes up. You have a chance for real growth here Cobalt, will you be ready for it?”
She ran her thoughts through her head over and over, tumbling through her skull like grains in a mill. With carefully chosen words she offered. “I will always be ready for anything father.”
Agamemnon looked her deep in her eyes, his crimson orbs drilling into her soul as he let her go and huffed a puff of radioactive steam, an inscrutable emotion dancing across his scaled face. “I don’t believe I ever taught you to lie. But it matters not, get ready Cobalt.”
Naturally there was no space left to argue. Thankfully unlike others she did not have to prepare much, her own body was weapon enough and any armour would be only a hindrance with her rapidly changing form and propensity to let out scorching waves of heat. All there was to do now was to steel her mind for war as she chased after the shadow left in the wake of her father’s back.
She would get through this, she thought. Then she will finally have a chance to chase a purpose she chose herself.
The advance force led by her father and supported by Cinnabar’s division were already at the gates, rushing to their position she took her position in the front ranks as they prepared to march in defence of the Lead Cave. A hundred men and women or so in total, ranging from nearly mortal weapon masters to potent psychic formation-masters each a veteran of many battles across the war-torn border. She wished quietly to herself, for no particular reason, that she could have said goodbye to her friends first as the army went to move.