Lightning illuminated the darkness of the chamber like a newborn sun and, combined with the thundercracks of metal wires whipping through the dank radiation soaked air and the agonised screams of the boy they tore through, it produced an assault on the senses that Cyprus Ink had no reference to. It was as though the world around the boy was split apart, a discordant violent mix of broken metal and flesh vying for control over the same small host. He did not have even the slightest idea what was going on, but he didn’t need to know details to know if it continued like this; it wasn't just the boy who was in danger. An arc of electricity flew dangerously close to his head, impacting against the rusted remains of what once was a barrel, confirming his fears. He didn’t know what to do, but he couldn’t afford to sit still. Unlike before, the door behind him was already well and truly sealed, and there was no hiding from what was to come. Either they sat here speechless and all died… or they did something, anything at all, to have even the slightest chance of survival.
The albino seemed to have come to much the same realisation, attempting to quickly rise to his feet before stumbling and vomiting black blood onto the stone and concrete below. Just barely he managed to get his bearings in time to avoid a razor sharp wire flying towards him, sparks of electricity leaving visible ugly red burns where the metal nearly made contact with pigmentless skin. In an instant he mouthed words inaudible in the chaos, but his alarmed face was enough to tell Ink to duck.
Well practised motions from long hours spent training for another attempt at the trials between tedious chores let him avoid a far larger mass of red tendrils bound with the same crackling wires as the rest of the thing that tore out of John. It flew past his head and slammed into the ground easily piercing into the old stone below. There was no malice to the actions, no greater purpose, only the flailing more akin to a wounded beast than anything that would come out of a man. He coughed blood and rose once more to his feet, desperately searching for an opening.
It seemed John was not completely absent, visibly the boy was struggling against the thing that had torn out of him, strained muscles pulling the nightmare that tore itself out of his form between screams. Large red nodes seemingly impossible to have fit underneath the skin of such a skinny young man now revealed themselves across the surface of his body, his right arm especially had the metal plates normally covering the limb stretched off his form by writhing snake-like coils and what looked like masses of brain matter.
“We have to help him! Do you have any ideas?” His companion cried above the pandemonium,
“This is as strange to you as it is to me, but hit the nodes and the squishy parts around his arm! Whatever it is inside of him causing all this that is where most of its meat is!” He responded, mentally going through everything he had learned cleaning up in the archives as fast as he could yet still unable to find any reference that would provide even a hint of a better plan.
“How do you know it will wor-” Magni said before being forced to dive out of the way of another large tendril.
He coughed violently from already failing lungs aggravated by the cloud of Si saturated dust which was kicked into the air in the chaos, struggling to produce a response. “I-urghk… I am not sure but I… gack… don’t know any better ideas… Y-you?”
“Unfortunately not.” Magni acquiesced.
Unable to speak much more in full words he simply nodded praying to the Spirits and Saints that they would make it through this nightmare.
While it was clear there was no active attempt to fight them from John the unpredictable masses of cable, wire, lightning and flesh formed a barrier impenetrable for even the most well trained mortal. Thankfully both were past that, but with bodies already taxed from days without food in a place that actively sought to eradicate all life within and minds just as addled by those same circumstances it was a tightrope between life and death even to get near. Four times he counted he nearly was hit with the full force of a vicious set of flailing, twice now he had been burned from mere proximity to the arcing electricity and only one time he found an opening to attack. Magni was probably struggling in much the same way, but unfortunately there was no time for a spare thought towards him. He had his opening…
With a move practised a thousand times between cleaning shifts when he was certain he wasn’t being watched, one only applied as of yet to crude piles of refuse and litter, he exploited the second long opening he was granted.
His fist made contact and the thing responded in kind.
----------------------------------------
Despite the agony unlike anything he had ever known before John was still in some way conscious. The rapidly disintegrating link between him and ARTOS was paradoxically the worst it had ever been and more direct than he had ever experienced it before. He knew with strange certainty that the cocktail of chemicals pumped into him was keeping him just barely alive and awake, he saw in an instant all that he was and all that he should not be. One eye saw the world as a blur of light and confusion while in the other flashed images devoid of context, sights from a world long dead, images of war as he had never even imagined before. Skies blacked out under the shadow of massive airships, soldiers that looked more metal than man, ARTOS as its creators intended, a perfect fusion of flesh and metal that took the mortal form and allowed it to cleave through buildings with ease.
He screamed even when he knew his vocal cords shouldn’t have been able to make sound. He tried to move even as he knew his ligaments and muscles should be too shredded to allow even the slightest hint of movement. A stream of information assaulted his unprepared mind, battering at the gates of his sanity and yet he fought with every inch of himself, desperately holding his ground against the storm within.
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Û̸̘̲͗̌N̵͚͑͐̆͜K̶̲̾́N̶̰̿̚ͅŎ̵̯̂̍Ẃ̸͙̤̠̂̒Ń̴̗͕̄ ̴̬̲̙͂́̈A̷͓͕͊̆͊B̷͖͗B̸̢̻̩́E̸̻̥̍̀R̵̘̈́A̸̡̹̬͒T̴͈̪̚I̸̥̐̅͠Ó̵̡N̷̨͒S̸̰͕̰̈́̀̏ ̴͚̦̌D̵̼̣͕̆͝È̷̩͚͎̎T̶̖̰̾E̵͍̞̊C̷͙̕T̴̺͊̎Ẽ̸̳̥̮̿̅D̶̠͍̣̆ ̵͇̪̣̾̓̀W̴̩̼̺̄̓͠I̷̜͉̾Ṫ̴̹̥̚H̵̹̓̆I̵̻̓ͅN̶͔̣̿ ̶̧̲̓A̵̻̾͆R̷͎̥̿̀̃T̶̩̭͂Ő̴̯̘̙̈̀S̴̟̘̣̿ ̷͔̬̦̕G̷̥̈́͠E̵̺̼̪̐̓N̶͕̾Ẹ̶́ ̷̥̈́Ş̵̰̾̆̓ͅT̴̨͙̠͘Ŕ̶̹̙̦͆Ū̵̠C̴̟͉͗̏T̷̼͍̚Ų̶̛͔̌R̵̟̿̕Ě̵̤
Something was happening inside of him, lines already blurred were scattered into dust and thrown into the uncaring wind.
H̴̡̯̜̫͐͘E̷̥̒́̏͠Ā̸̱̘͛V̸̛̬̫̮̒͗́͜Y̴͓̩͂̇͂̒ͅ ̵̢̞̤̙̒I̸͈̰̬̽͗̉̽M̴̼̟̥̑P̴̘͓̬̹͋̉̐̕A̸̝̕͜͜C̷̩̬̍͝T̴̩͗ ̴͙͙̲͐̿̑͘T̸͇̝̠̭̿O̶̭͙̩̺͌̏͝W̶̫̮̜̏̎Ą̸̢͎̈́̕R̴̻͉̼̀͑̿Ḍ̷̀Ṣ̷̩̀͝ ̵̖̼̱̀̾̉Ṃ̷̢̡͕̈́Ä̵́͋͘ͅI̶̹͖͔̦̋N̸̪͙͐̏ ̶͔́̋͠Ṇ̷̒E̸̺̖̼̓Ù̷̥̓̀̊R̶̤͉͖̀̓̐͠A̴͎̬͓͒͂͗̕L̸͍̤͓̘͝ ̷̨̤̲̎C̵̅̋ͅL̸̲̱͇̯̄͘U̵̧̝͛̽̑͠Ṡ̷̘̆T̸̢̯̹̯̉Ȅ̸̢͖̲̕R̶̹̬̮̈́̉̆̐:̸͈͚̣͛͛͌̍ ̴̪͂̃́͜R̷͓̂̅̓̈́Ȩ̵̹͇͆̈́̕̕ͅṚ̶̭̟͗Ȍ̶̡͉́-̸͖̗̬̱̀ ̷̩̠͔́̑͠E̸̋͜R̷̛̯͙̬̲͒͋R̶̙̮̝̒̓̽̉O̷̺̬̒́̕͜R̶̲͎̝̄̃̐͘
He screamed louder as a sudden jolt slammed into his right arm from the front and the back. A brief window opened allowing his brain to scramble to reassert dominance over a body that had entirely ceased to obey.
With monumental force of will through the pain he felt a finger nonetheless twitch at his command, a tiny array of wires bending to his will allowing him to reassert some dominance.
E̶̺͖̲̜̖̭̝̔́̄̓̎͋̋͘͜R̴̨͕͕̲̲̰̱̉̆̅̽R̸̢̞͂̒́̓͋̌̈́̇Ǒ̶͉̟̟̟͇͎̘̠̭̹̪̿̿͑̑̃͐͒̏͘̕͠͝͠͝R̵̨̧̨̺͖̤͓̙̪͍̗͇͙̦̼̘͒̔̈́̽͆͌̇́͑̐̇̂ͅ ̶̬̥̄̔̾͋͊̍̀̽̀̓̈̊̀̋̑͘̕E̴̡̨̲͓͉̰̗̳̘̯̖̲͇͎͂̀̿̿̄͜ͅR̴̨̳̻̋Ŗ̴̱̘͈͇̖̩̠̖̹̊̆͋̈̃̈́͜O̸̼͎̙̬̖̞̲͓̞̦̯̿̅͑̓̆̿̂͝Ŗ̸̘͉͓̞̝͇̣͓̖̱̰̜̻̀͋́̍̄͊̇͊͘̕͜͝͠͝ ̵͕͔̞͎̖͇̣͇͈̋̋̈́̋͐͛͐͜E̷̝͔̮͔̼̻̣̼͛̎͜Ŗ̸̬̠͕̞͚̱̹̠̤͈̈̅͑͂͑̃͑̄̌̍͂̚̕͘͝͝͝R̸̨̺̰̩̂͐̓̚̚O̶̧̧͎͇̠͕͚̮̬͉̦̝̣͔͉̲͖͑̆̓Ŗ̵̦̰̺̺͓̩̙̣̠̠̣̺̞͔̍͂̔̾̋̉͂͆̐̏̈̒́̔͘̕
He felt something change, the energy within his core coalescing as power distilled into a newborn organ created in spite of, or perhaps in part because of, the damage to his body.
More blows slammed against him from every angle, hitting the strange growths that had erupted out of him. One by one more of his body began to obey his thoughts. He could see more clearly now his companions struggling in their own way to help him, even as his other eye continued to see only vivid visions from a dead world.
W̵͙̭̿̐̅̚H̷̖̯̗͘Ǎ̸͍̳͛͌̉T̸̨̻̾̄̏ ̸̛͙͇̉I̶͚̻̞͗̀̀͂S̴̡̹̘̩̈́̽̒̐ ̸͍̔̀H̵͚̗̫͆͊̉̚A̴̧̨̍́̓P̵͖̟͓̐̂͘P̸͈̗̼̦̐͆Ẽ̵̛̿͜Ň̴̨͌Ī̶̬̪N̷͇͕̔͑̚͜G̷͕͈̍
W̵H̸A̶T̵ ̷A̴M̷ ̷I̴?̷
A strong punch hit him in a growth near his heart, he saw a large mass of electrified tendrils lash out from the damaged node and slam into the unfortunate man at impossible speeds. For the briefest moment though his thoughts ran clear and the tiny crack that had opened in the prison that was his body creaked just that little bit wider.
[UNKNOWN HARDWARE ABERRATION CONTAINED: INITIATING FACTORY RE-
Ǫ̸̢̣̖̗̮̩̋͒̈́͐́̾̎̽̕̚͜V̵̩̽̃͐̔̒̒̈́̂͘͠ͅE̵̳͇̜͉̲͚̺̝̝̞̙̒̐̈́̒̏͗̍́̔̀̃͆R̴̢̩̤͌̾͒̆̊̈̄̂̅͑̕͝Ŗ̸̛̼͉̩͎̹̦͈͔̈̽͒̇̈́̈́̃̔͋̈́͝I̵̛̜͉̰̙̯̱͚̔͋́̐̃̽̉̀̾̆̓D̷̡̦͉͙̫́͂E̵̙̞̗͕̖̅̅̑̀
[HOST COMPATIBILITY RAPIDLY RISING: 70%... 80%... 90%...
1̶1̷0̴%̸
0̸̢̺̱͙̤̤̮̗̫̜͗̎̎̃̇̀%̵̨̡̛̥̯̳̻̯̠̫̪̠̦̞̙͙̱̀̒͋͜͝ͅ
[STABLE CONNECTION REESTABLISHED]
[NEURAL NETWORKS REWIRING…]
Finally the pain stopped, with an unparalleled effort he forced everything that had torn through him back inside. Wounds sealed with impossible speed leaving no evidence of the ordeal besides a network of lightning patterned scars across his body coated with charred blood. His whole body was coated with that same burnt blood and sweat, now thick enough to be nearly a slime. It hurt even to pant, the world seemed to wobble and shake and in the darkness he could see two forms… one knocked on the floor… the other standing only one shaky and unstable footing.
He felt someone punch him, apparently not yet knowing he had returned to relative normal, and like a pebble thrown at a crumbled ruin he collapsed at the first impact.
[WHAT AM I?]
[WHAT ARE WE?]
----------------------------------------
It was over. After only a few seconds that stretched on to an incalculable eternity it was fucking over. His heart beat like a cheap skin drum abused by a war maddened veteran howling, sobbing and laughing on the street. He had never before felt so close to death and yet it was over now. He laughed wildly, the supreme stress and sudden relief breaking a wall that he was not even aware was there himself, happy tears streamed down his eyes even as he doubled over coughing.
Barely visible in the darkness were two still forms and his joy ceased somewhat. Dread filled his heart as he rushed over to each unconscious form, only slightly alleviated by the confirmation that there was in fact breathing from each of them.
Ink got it bad, he could feel skin peeling from places as he touched his unconscious form. If the wounds didn’t get him the radiation curse would… but for now he was alive. How long? He could not know, he was human gutter waste that was educated by petty gang lords barely enough to listen and understand orders as well as communicate information. He was no master of the healing arts… even if he was, what did he have to work with here. He had seen death before of course, but that did not make the idea that it was so possibly near any easier to swallow.
Moving over painfully towards the form of John he was shocked at how… almost normal it looked. All of that flesh, wire and metal that tore out of him was… gone. He could not see a hint of it besides the damage all around them in the darkness. Part of him wanted to be mad at the brat for this but he knew that the boy suffered as well. He breathed still as well, yet how could anyone simply walk off something as brutal as that?
He felt something crack within him once and then twice, power rushing into him like never before. Fresh pain shot through his insides as organs moved and grew. He shut his eyes and when they were open again the world was painted in colours he could not even name revealing things he did not know he did not know. He felt the change in power within him, and the change of power within John as well.
That did not do much to stop him from slumping over unconscious, completely spent.
----------------------------------------
It was not unusual for all of the contestants of the final trial to be unconscious or worse, but as she scurried over to investigate Cinnabar was filled with uncharacteristic dread. Barely three days into the trial she had felt… something… happen even beneath countless feet of metal and rock. Crawling on the walls when teleportation techniques failed her in deeper layers to save precious seconds, moving at speeds that should be impossible for her form and stopping so suddenly as would instantly pulp a mortal upon reaching her destination she moved her arm in a poorly practised motion, an unprecedented situation, to abort the final trial early.
Impatient to wait a second longer as the ancient doors creaked open with physically and psychically enhanced strength she forced it to open quickly. They would need to replace hinges and make this entire section out of limits for anyone below core disciple for a while… but a necessary sacrifice.
Aurelium returned yesterday and she could feel his presence moving as fast as was possible for the amorphous mass of eyes. Though without the aid of Aberrant realm movement techniques he wouldn’t be here for another few seconds. Thankfully Phagos was nowhere to be seen, the brute would likely do more harm than good right now with his strange views towards tradition and honestly barbaric ideals of strength and weakness.
The three Aspirants were unconscious, two she could feel had ascended to the Mutant Realm outright while the other would likely be lucky to make it through the night. Not an unusual occurrence in and of itself but…
Evidence of a great struggle, marks on the stone that did not suggest power befitting a Wretch, not even one on the verge of the Mutant realm… and the lingering taste of lightning.
She heard frantic footsteps come to a halt behind her.
“Great Spirit, what happened here?” Aurelium swore.
She did not know.