Deep underground, within the confines of what appeared to be a long-forgotten castle or palace, an eerie stillness pervaded the air. Amidst the darkness, a lone figure sat upon a throne, its skeletal form shrouded in the faint glow of the surrounding nature. The skeleton, dressed in a pristine suit and tie, remained motionless, its lifeless gaze fixed upon the cavernous hall before it.
Suddenly, the sockets of the skeleton's eyes ignited with a brilliant royal blue light, casting an ethereal glow upon its bony visage. With a delicate touch, the figure traced the contours of its skull, its fingers brushing against a perfectly circular hole with cracks radiating outward from its center.
A sense of awareness stirred within the skeleton, a primal instinct guiding its movements as it rose from the throne. In the depths of its soul, a connection resonated, a link to another being that echoed its own existence. With a determined gaze, the skeleton turned towards the source of this pull, drawn by a sensation it had not felt in countless millennia.
Stretching out its hand, the skeleton reached out, its consciousness extending beyond the confines of its own form. Through the eye of Legion, it peered into the world above, where Seraphina stood before him, her presence beckoning like a beacon in the darkness.
With a flicker of recognition, the skeleton's vision returned to its surroundings, the realization dawning upon it that a new chapter was about to unfold. With a decisive motion, it reached out towards a royal blue button emblazoned with the word "REWRITE," its purpose clear and resolute.
In an instant, the skeleton vanished from the depths of the underground chamber, reappearing atop a towering mountain overlooking a sprawling cityscape below. As it surveyed the skyline, a sense of incredulity washed over it.
"I thought us losing the war was supposed to be the extinction of traits," Merkmal Arzt mused aloud, his voice echoing against the backdrop of the distant skyscrapers. "To cease to exist... Why are they still using them?"
Descending from the mountain, Merkmal Arzt surveyed the landscape before him, his keen eyes taking in the sight of a small, primitive village nestled amidst the rugged terrain. The air crackled with an otherworldly energy as he made his way towards the settlement, his purpose clear and unwavering.
As he approached the village, he was met by a pair of military trait guards, their imposing forms radiating with the power of their respective abilities. One guard, imbued with the strength of Defense, while the other exuded the raw power of Strength. Their wary gaze fell upon Merkmal, suspicion etched into their features as they observed his presence.
Strength Guard speaks "Isn't that one of those things they warned us about?" he muttered, his tone laced with apprehension.
Defense Guard speaks soon after "I don't know, but I don't like it," the other replied, his stance defensive as he conjured a shield and spear crafted from water.
Undeterred by their caution, Merkmal pressed forward, his steps deliberate and purposeful. As the Strength guard conjured a small fireball, Merkmal merely brushed it aside with a casual swat, the flickering flames extinguished with ease.
"Such primitive techniques," Merkmal remarked, his voice tinged with amusement. "What happened to this land in the time without me being here?"
In a flash of royal blue light, Merkmal disappeared from sight, reappearing behind the guards with an almost ethereal grace. With a deft touch, he laid his hands upon them, his touch imbued with a potent energy that sent shivers down their spines.
"I'll be using these for experimentation, thank you, boys," Merkmal declared, his voice echoing with a chilling finality.
With a swift motion, he extracted the essence of their traits, the glow of dark blue and fiery red swirling within his grasp. Intrigued by his findings, Merkmal studied the hues intently, almost as if a faint smirk playing upon his skeletal features.
But his curiosity was short-lived as he swiftly deactivated their trait abilities, leaving the guards stunned and powerless in his wake. With a press of the Rewrite button, their traits vanished into the ether, leaving them mere mortals once more.
Turning away from the guards, Merkmal continued his journey, his path laid out before him like a twisted road of destiny. With each town and city he encountered, he repeated the process, extracting traits from the unsuspecting inhabitants as he moved inexorably closer to his ultimate goal: Seraphina.
As Merkmal continued on his relentless quest towards Seraphina, a ripple of unease spread through the lab. The swords, once dormant artifacts, now pulsed with a brilliant royal blue light, their metallic forms vibrating with newfound energy. Sensing their creator's approach, they seemed to react with a sense of anticipation, their blades quivering as if reaching out to him.
Meanwhile, within Legion's dwindling form, the Heroism trait stirred, a flicker of fear mingled with a strange pull towards Merkmal. The remnants of Legion's consciousness seemed to resonate with the glowing hue of royal blue, a silent testament to the mysterious connection between creator and creation.
In response to the unfolding events, the group crowded around Legion's body, their collective gaze fixed on the swirling vortex of traits that surrounded him. As if guided by an unseen force, they turned on the news, hoping to glean some insight into the unfolding crisis.
The urgency in the news reporter's voice cut through the tension like a knife, the gravity of the situation sinking in with each word. Reports of a skeletal figure clad in a suit, stealing people's traits and vanishing without a trace, sent shockwaves through the room.
Seraphina's heart pounded in her chest as she listened, her mind racing with memories of her main trait of Determination and the ominous premonition she had experienced. With a steely resolve, she met the gazes of her companions – Vörher, Rück, and The Director – each one silently acknowledging the gravity of the situation.
Without a word spoken, they knew what needed to be done. The enigmatic skeleton posed a threat unlike any they had faced before, and they were prepared to confront it head-on. With their determination steeled and their resolve unwavering, they stood united, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead in their quest to stop Merkmal Arzt and protect their world from his insidious grasp.
As Merkmal's presence drew nearer to the lab, looking for Seraphina driving him forward, he could sense the unmistakable aura emanating from Legion's swords. The closer he got, the stronger the pull became, guiding him inexorably towards his destination.
Meanwhile, within the lab, Seraphina, Vörher, Rück, and The Director emerged, their resolve palpable as they prepared to confront the enigmatic skeleton that threatened their world. With a silent understanding, they took their positions in the heart of the city, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
As Merkmal finally approached, his skeletal form shrouded in an aura of darkness, he addressed the group with a calm, almost dispassionate demeanor.
"I assume you four are here to stop me?" he began, his voice echoing through the streets. "The traits in this era seem to be very interesting and yet lackluster. So there are now two things I would like to ask you."
With his hands clasped behind his back, Merkmal fixed his empty gaze upon them, awaiting their response.
Rück stepped forward, his expression tinged with skepticism. "For an evil skeleton, you sure are nice," he remarked, his tone laced with irony.
Merkmal's bony features remained impassive, a faint glimmer of amusement flickering in his eye sockets. "I may not be the best by your standards today, and I wasn't back then," he replied evenly. "But I will let you know I have standards. Now, I don't believe either of us wants to do this here in the city with all of these people around."
His words hung in the air, a tacit acknowledgment of the potential consequences of their conflict. Despite their differences, there was an unspoken understanding between them – the battle ahead would be fraught with danger, and the safety of innocent lives must be preserved at all costs.
Merkmal's swift movement caught them off guard, his mastery of the Royal Blue Rewrite leaving them momentarily stunned. As the shimmering button materialized before them, Rück and Seraphina exchanged incredulous glances, their astonishment mirrored in Vörher's eyes. With a simple touch from Merkmal, the world around them dissolved into a vortex of royal blue, transporting them all to the Cathedral's Hall in an instant.
The sudden transition left them disoriented, their senses reeling from the abrupt shift in surroundings. Merkmal stood before them, his skeletal frame exuding an air of smug confidence.
"Are you that impressed by my ability?" he taunted, a hint of amusement dancing in his empty eye sockets. "You might as well give up now if that's the case, but I do not expect you to go down willingly."
Though initially taken aback by the display of power, their shock quickly gave way to determination. Rück wasted no time, launching himself forward with blinding speed, his fists a blur as he aimed a barrage of strikes at Merkmal. But to his dismay, Merkmal effortlessly sidestepped each blow, his movements fluid and precise.
From behind, Vörher summoned his Tenacity button, his fist crackling with fiery energy as he surged forward. But before his attack could connect, Seraphina intervened, her ability to manipulate time slowing the world around her as she closed in on Merkmal from the side. With a resolute swing of her glowing off-red claymore, she unleashed a fierce strike aimed squarely at their adversary.
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Yet, even as their combined assault bore down upon him, Merkmal remained unfazed. With a casual ease, he seized Seraphina's claymore and Vörher's punch in his grasp, his skeletal fingers closing around them with an iron grip.
"Your traits seem to be much more refined," Merkmal mused, his voice tinged with curiosity. "Enhanced versions of those Strength traits I got. And the base traits from my time, how interesting."
Before they could react, The Director emerged from the shadows, her gun glowing with an ominous off-red hue as she unleashed a volley of bullets toward Merkmal. But in a flash of royal blue light, Merkmal vanished into thin air, teleporting out of harm's way with effortless grace.
From above, Merkmal conjured Rewritten Royal Blue spikes, their luminous glow casting an eerie light over the battleground as they hurtled toward Vörher and his companions with deadly precision. With no time to spare, Seraphina called upon the unknown scientist, its form radiating a vibrant green aura as it materialized before her. The scientist bore an uncanny resemblance to Merkmal, and with a swift motion, it intercepted the spikes, knocking them aside before they could reach Seraphina.
Vörher's instincts kicked in, his mind racing as he activated PERSISTENCE, a brilliant purple flash enveloping him as he deftly dodged the incoming spikes with fluid grace. Meanwhile, Rück relied on his agility, darting around the spikes with calculated precision, his movements fluid and graceful as he evaded each deadly projectile. But to their dismay, the onslaught showed no signs of abating, the spikes continuing to rain down relentlessly from above.
Undeterred, The Director remained steadfast, her gun trained on Merkmal as it glowed with a fierce yellow light. With a steady hand, she fired another volley of shots, each bullet streaking toward Merkmal with lethal accuracy. Yet, even as they closed in, Merkmal's agility proved unmatched, his body contorting in mid-air as he deftly avoided each projectile, narrowly escaping their deadly trajectory.
With a burst of determination, Vörher leaped into the air, activating his Tenacity to bolster his resolve. But before he could make a move, Merkmal unleashed the power of his Rewrite, his skeletal hand cutting through the air with a swift motion. In a surreal display, both scientists mirrored Merkmal's movement, their hands slashing through the air with synchronized precision. The collision of their Crimson and Royal Blue slashes sent shockwaves rippling through the air, culminating in a deafening explosion that engulfed the battlefield.
As the dust settled, Merkmal landed gracefully on the ground, his form unscathed by the blast. Meanwhile, Rück's body glowed with a pulsating purple energy, his anticipation palpable as he awaited his opportunity to strike. Not to be outdone, The Director's aura intensified, her gun emitting a brilliant yellow glow as she aimed it squarely at Merkmal.
With perfect timing, The Director unleashed a massive yellow shot, the energy surging towards Merkmal with unstoppable force. Simultaneously, Rück seized his chance, unleashing his attack with pinpoint accuracy. The combined assault struck Merkmal with devastating impact, engulfing him in a blinding explosion that sent him hurtling into the unforgiving stone walls of the underground chamber.
As the dust settled, the once luminous royal blue light in Merkmal's eye sockets flickered and faded, leaving his skeletal form motionless amidst the rubble. Yet, just when it seemed that all was lost, a faint sound pierced the silence—a heartbeat, faint but unmistakable. Slowly, Merkmal began to glow with an off-red hue, mirroring Seraphina's own radiant aura.
In an astonishing display, Merkmal rose from the debris, his eye sockets now aglow with both royal blue and a fiery off-red. The significance of this transformation hung heavy in the air, a testament to the enigmatic skeleton's resilience and power.
the chamber echoed with the remnants of their skirmish, dust settling around them like a shroud of uncertainty. Merkmal Arzt stood resolute, his words heavy with the weight of past loss and determination. "I've already tasted death once and lost everything. I will not endure it again."
Vörher, his composure strained by the chaos, stretched out his hands in a gesture of restraint, his voice tinged with urgency. "Alright, alright. If we persist like this, the very foundation of this place will crumble upon us."
Merkmal, though visibly tense, softened slightly at the prospect of an alternative. He clasped his hands behind his back, considering Vörher's suggestion. "Are you proposing diplomacy?"
Vörher nodded, the gravity of the situation settling upon him. "For the moment, yes. If that aligns with your intentions. We stand here as representatives of Vörher, Seraphina, Rück, and The Director."
The revelation of Merkmal's identity as a doctor brought a momentary pause, Vörher's brow furrowing in surprise. "You're a doctor?"
Merkmal's response was measured, his voice carrying the weight of his profession. "I am a trait scientist, one who delves into the intricacies of creation and expansion upon traits."
As Vörher and Rück exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passed between them, acknowledging the complexity of the situation they found themselves in. Their attention returned to Merkmal, a silent agreement forming amongst them as they braced themselves for what lay ahead.
Vörher's voice carried a sense of urgency and determination as he spoke, his words echoing in the tense silence that hung over them. "We are trait scientists of this era. We, too, have been endeavoring to achieve the same goal."
Merkmal Arzt's gaze narrowed, curiosity mingling with skepticism. "And you believe you've managed to prevent another catastrophic war?"
Rück, his expression a mixture of solemnity and inquiry, interjected, "You mean the war that brought about the world's destruction?"
Merkmal nodded, a flicker of memory crossing his features. "Yes, but for you, it's a distant memory. The conflict arose from the integration of traits into society. It split humanity into two factions: the Wizards, proponents of traits, and the Mechanilists, vehemently opposed."
As Merkmal recounted the history, The Director slumped onto the ground, her exhaustion evident. Merkmal's gaze shifted momentarily to her, a hint of sympathy in his eyes, before he continued his narrative. "The power wielded by the Wizards was so immense that it decimated any nation that dared oppose them. But as fear and resistance grew, a coalition formed to challenge their dominance."
Merkmal's voice carried the weight of past battles and lost comrades as he recounted the struggle. "Leaders of the Wizard faction fell one by one, until I stood as the last, a reluctant symbol of their cause. Despite my abilities, my very power to rewrite reality, I too fell, surrounded by those who sought to end the tyranny."
His words hung heavy in the air, punctuated by the undeniable evidence of his demise—a bullet hole stark against his skull. Seraphina, her voice soft yet resolute, added her perspective to the tale, her eyes reflecting the weight of history.
Seraphina's inquiry hung in the air, a thread of curiosity woven through her words as she sought to unravel the mystery before them. "I assume you created Legion because of our connection, and Legion's recognition of you. But how exactly did you breathe life into something that wasn't alive?"
Merkmal's response was almost amused, a ghost of a smile flickering across his skeletal visage. With a deliberate gesture, he raised a bony finger, silently signaling for a moment's pause. He moved gracefully toward the throne upon which he had been seated, his movements betraying a familiarity with the space. Nestled beside the throne lay the bones of a small, curled-up cat, a poignant reminder of life extinguished.
Crouching beside the feline remains, Merkmal placed his hand gently upon the skull, his touch reverent yet purposeful. "Even in death, you remained by my side. Join me once again in this world," he whispered, his voice carrying a solemn plea.
As if in response to his invocation, the room crackled with energy, the air thick with the swirling manifestations of countless traits. The very fabric of reality seemed to shimmer and shift as Merkmal continued his explanation. "With an object imbued with the capacity to harness traits, whether for combat or existence, one can infuse it with as many traits as desired. The richness of these traits determines the intricacy of its abilities and personality."
A symphony of colors danced around them, a mesmerizing display of potential and power. "For this demonstration," Merkmal continued, his tone tinged with anticipation, "I shall utilize the synthetic traits within your arsenal."
From above, a cascade of red and green light descended, merging seamlessly with the cat's bones as Merkmal's finger pressed down upon the Rewrite button.
Merkmal's explanation hung in the air, his words laden with a sense of discovery and intrigue. "I utilized your Strength and Health traits to fashion Purity," he elucidated, his gaze fixed on the newly formed cat. "Normally, Purity manifests as white, but intriguingly, it retains its essence even with this altered combination."
As if responding to the energy coursing through its skeletal frame, the cat's bones trembled with renewed vitality, gradually coalescing into a feline form. A soft, tentative meow escaped its newly formed mouth, drawing the attention of the gathered group.
The Director, her curiosity piqued by the unexpected development, posed a question that echoed through the chamber. "But how does it produce sound?"
Merkmal, his eyes alight with knowledge, offered a succinct response. "Apache here was resurrected through Rewrite, granting him the ability to vocalize and experience sensation, even in the absence of conventional receptors or a voice box. It's the same principle that allowed Legion to communicate."
As Apache bounded gracefully onto Merkmal's shoulders, a sense of calm seemed to envelop the room, punctuated by the rhythmic purring of the newly created companion.
Vörher, his voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and concern, broached a sensitive topic. "You don't strike me as a villain. So why did you unleash Legion to attack?"
Merkmal's expression darkened briefly, a shadow passing over his features as he recounted the intentions behind Legion's actions. "Legion was meant to be a beacon of hope, a force to tip the scales of war in our favor. But his noble aspirations were tainted by hubris, leading him to indiscriminately extinguish humanity, regardless of allegiance. He sought to reshape civilization, only to be entombed in his own misguided heroism."
Rück, ever the analytical mind, sought clarification on a more practical matter. "How is it that your bones have not succumbed to decomposition?"
Merkmal's response was as insightful as it was matter-of-fact, shedding light on the intricate workings of Rewrite and its effects on the physical form. "Even as my flesh decayed, Rewrite maintained a tenuous connection to my body, preventing complete dissolution. Traits such as Determination can stave off death in a similar manner. Each trait exerts a passive influence on the body, with strength correlating to rarity. The trait scientists I've encountered possess abilities to manipulate DNA, traits, and even the fabric of reality itself. Perhaps you all possess similar capabilities, awaiting discovery in due time."
With his explanation concluded, the shimmering glow of the traits surrounding them began to fade, the room returning to a state of eerie calm as the Rewrite button vanished from sight.
Merkmal's question hung in the air, a pivotal moment of decision suspended in the silence that followed. Each member of the group weighed their options, contemplating the implications of their next move.
Finally, it was Vörher who broke the silence, his voice measured yet resolute. "Given the invaluable nature of your research, there's no denying its potential benefits. You can still pursue your original goals. Why not join forces with us?"
With a gesture of goodwill, Vörher extended his hand, a symbol of trust and collaboration. "All we ask is that you return the traits you've taken from everyone."
Merkmal's response was tinged with resignation as he reached for the Rewrite button, its glow pulsating with a finality that echoed throughout the chamber. With a press, the button flashed once before vanishing into thin air.
In a dazzling display of light, the surroundings dissolved into a royal blue hue, transporting them back to the bustling streets of the city. As the group reoriented themselves to their new surroundings, Merkmal approached Vörher, his expression a mixture of resolve and acceptance.
With a firm handshake, the pact was sealed, marking the beginning of a new chapter in their collective journey.