"Get him, now!" I bellowed, my voice slicing through the air like a blade. My subordinates, eyes blazing with determination, surged forward, their movements synchronized in a deadly dance of vengeance. The figure before us, a menacing silhouette against the flickering lights of the dimly lit alley, seemed to exude an aura of arrogance, a palpable sense of self-righteousness that made my blood boil. He was the embodiment of everything I once was.
I leaped into action, my muscles coiled. Beside me, my first subordinate moved with precision, his blow landing with a thunderous impact against the bastard's sternum, while I aimed a punishing kick at his jaw. The collision felt like slamming into a brick wall, the reverberations echoing through my bones. "What is he made of?" I pondered, my mind racing to comprehend the sheer resilience of his body. Before I could formulate an answer, a searing pain exploded across my face as his left arm lashed out, striking me with a force that sent me hurtling through the air. The world spun around me in a dizzying blur as I crashed to the ground, the metallic tang of blood flooding my senses. My body skidded across the unforgiving pavement, leaving a trail of crimson in its wake as my consciousness wavered, flickering like a dying flame. Through rapidly blinking eyes, I caught fleeting glimpses of the chaotic scene unfolding around me before darkness enveloped me fully.
With consciousness gradually returned, I found myself lying on the cold ground, my vision blurred as if shrouded in a haze of confusion and disbelief. Blinking away the remnants of unconsciousness, I turned my gaze towards the street I had been tasked with guarding, only to be met with a sight that sent a shiver of despair coursing through my veins. There, in the harsh glare of the streetlights, I watched helplessly as my comrades, individuals with whom I had shared countless trials and triumphs, were unceremoniously loaded into the back of a police van, their faces etched with resignation and fear. It was a scene that struck a chord deep within my soul.
In a fit of rage and frustration, I slammed my fist against the unforgiving earth, the impact resonating through my weary bones. "How dare you?!" I seethed, my voice choked with a potent mixture of anger and despair. Every fiber of my being rebelled against the injustice unfolding before my eyes, cursing the powers that be for their heartless betrayal. Attempting to rise, I placed a trembling palm against the ground, willing my weakened muscles to obey my commands. Yet, despite my best efforts, I found myself faltering, my body betraying me in my moment of need. Suddenly, a shadow loomed over me, casting a dark pall over my battered form. Startled, I looked up to find myself confronted by the imposing figure of the man we had dared to challenge, his presence exuding an aura of dominance and superiority. In that moment, as I gazed into the depths of his steely gaze, I knew with a chilling certainty that our fate had been sealed. We stand no chance.
With a weary sigh, I relaxed. "How many groups is that now? Like twelve?" I mused aloud, the question hanging in the air.. "They aren't hard to beat." I admitted begrudgingly, my lips twisting into a wry smirk. "But even when I hold myself back, they nearly die." I don't want to kill them on accident. I surveyed the battlefield before me, I noted the strategic placement of the groups, each one separated by a considerable distance that prevented them from teaming up against me. "Not like that would matter anyways." I muttered darkly. "Two hundred atoms versus one human is still only two hundred atoms."
Shaking off the creeping tendrils of doubt that threatened to ensnare my resolve, I steeled myself for the inevitable confrontation with the toughest ones yet. In Las Vegas, a city teeming with neon lights and hidden dangers, five Heads had gathered, their presence casting a sinister shadow over the bustling streets. And among them, one name stood out like a beacon of dread: "War." What could someone who has that moniker be capable of? Whatever I do, I knew with a sinking certainty that I did not want to face him in battle, for to do so would be to court certain death.
Ethan's words hit me like a cold gust of wind, leaving me momentarily stunned. "We're pulling out." he declared, his tone resolute yet tinged with a hint of resignation. I turned to face him, my brow furrowing in disbelief. "What?" I exclaimed, the words tumbling from my lips before I could stop them.
He shrugged, his expression grim. "Our strongest gifted here is someone with 50 strength," he explained matter-of-factly. "It's not worth it anymore. Don't worry about holding back, just move forward and end this." "No, dude. Your support is what—" I began, but he cut me off with a shake of his head. My protests died on my lips as Ethan silenced me with a gentle gesture, his finger pressing against my mouth "Not at all," he insisted, his voice firm with conviction. "you're carrying us pretty hard. If you need an evacuation, we'll come." Ethan rallied his men, his words ringing out with a steely resolve. "Move, most of the citizens have already evacuated. Oren will finish this now."
I watched in silence as the policemen obediently filed into their waiting cars, the sound of engines roaring to life. As Ethan climbed into his own vehicle, he leaned out of the window, his voice carrying across the distance with a note of unwavering support. "I believe in you, buddy!" he yelled, his words a beacon of encouragement amidst the encroaching darkness. And then, in a whirl of dust and exhaust fumes, they were gone, leaving me standing alone amidst the chaos of battle. They really just abandoned me, didn't they? A bitter taste of betrayal lingered on my tongue, but I pushed it aside, choosing instead to give them the benefit of the doubt. I'll admit, they don't really help me much. But in the end, it didn't matter. My duty lay clear before me, a path fraught with danger and uncertainty. I would see this through to the end, not for the sake of glory or recognition, but for the safety of those I held dear. I'd rather have them protect Aroha anyways.
I trudged on, each step carrying me further into the depths of uncertainty. Time seemed to stretch and warp around me, the minutes ticking by with agonizing slowness. Glancing at my phone, the digital display read two o'clock.. I still had a considerable amount of time left, but every passing moment weighed heavily on my shoulders like an oppressive burden. Slipping my phone back into my pocket, I scanned the path ahead with a sense of wary vigilance. And there, looming like a specter in the distance, was a solitary figure. Tall and imposing, he exuded an air of refined confidence that set him apart from any random joe. Short black hair framed his chiseled features, and his muscular frame bespoke a lifetime of rigorous training. There was no mistaking it; he was from the Alliance. Instinctively, I quickened my pace, putting as much distance as possible between myself and the enigmatic stranger. But to no avail. He had noticed me, his keen eyes narrowing with interest as he approached. "You're him, huh?" he remarked with a hint of disdain, gesturing towards my worn hood. "Dressed in that cringe hood."
I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to maintain a steely composure in the face of his mockery. "Yes, I'm the Crusader." I replied evenly, refusing to rise to the bait. He clicked his tongue in disapproval, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "No." he countered, swiping a finger through the air with a casual flick. "I'm talking about Oren Hashigana." My blood ran cold at the mention of my true identity, a name that he shouldn't know. He wasn't just a mere deputy; he knew the truth. I confronted him with a question that burned on my lips. "Who are you?" He chuckled darkly, slipping his hands into his pockets with an air of casual arrogance. "To you?" he replied cryptically. "I'm the Head of War."
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Damn it.
He knelt down before me, a gesture of unexpected humility. "Let us sit for a moment and talk, shall we?" he proposed, his tone surprisingly cordial given the circumstances. With a hesitant nod, I mirrored his movements, lowering myself to the ground beside him. There was a sincerity in his demeanor that belied the usual façade of deception and hostility that I had come to expect from these people.
"About what?" I inquired cautiously, my guard still firmly in place. He pointed a finger in my direction, his gaze piercing and unyielding. "Why are you doing this?" Why am I doing this? The question echoed in the recesses of my mind, a nagging doubt that threatened to unravel my resolve. A fleeting flashback of Jack flashed before my eyes, a reminder of the hatred that came about from the gift. But just as quickly as it had come, the memory slipped through my grasp, leaving me grasping for answers in the darkness of uncertainty. "To stop the malice and injustice you are committing." I replied, my voice steady.
He seemed aloof, unaffected by my words. "Like what, Oren?" he challenged, his tone bordering on indifference. I fixed him with a stern gaze, my resolve hardening with each passing moment. "Aiding a terrorist organization, murder, robbery, arson—" I began, listing off the litany of crimes that stained his hands with blood. But before I could finish, he erupted in protest, his voice rising in a crescendo of denial. "No! Those are not things I've done," he insisted, his words stuttering. He started rolling around, a strange display of agitation that only served to highlight his childish demeanor. "All I've done is what Thana asked of me." he explained, his voice tinged with a hint of desperation. "Oh, that's all?" I retorted, my sarcasm laced with bitterness. "'All'? You've hurt people under Thana's command and have still aided a terrorist organization." He glanced away, a flicker of guilt crossing his features. Could it be that he was feeling remorse for his actions? "You can still become good. Just help m—" Before I could finish my plea, he cut me off with a disarming smile, his gaze meeting mine with unsettling innocence. "What if I just don't care about that?"
He gathered himself and rose to his feet, a sense of defiance emanated from every line of his body. "What if I just want to do what I want when I want?" he declared. I mirrored his movement, rising from my seated position with a steely resolve. "Then you're an apathetic monster." I shot back, disappointed. It was useless talking to him.
My fists clenched at my sides, I prepared myself for battle. Then, I noticed a subtle shift in his demeanor. His face, once marked by the petulance of a man-child, transformed into that of a seasoned soldier. His eyes narrowed, his pupils dilating as if he had entered a state of heightened awareness. It was clear that he had shifted into what could only be described as 'battle mode'.
"I want to beat you in what you excel at." he declared, his voice laced with a challenge that sent a shiver of excitement coursing through my veins. "What is it you excel at?" A flicker of suspicion danced behind my eyes, but I couldn't deny the allure of his challenge. What was he playing at? Despite my reservations, I decided to take the bait. "Strength." I replied, my voice firm. He snapped his fingers with a grin, the sound echoing in the air like a gauntlet being thrown down. "Challenge set." he proclaimed.
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You have been trapped in the skill "Challenge". Movements are restrained until you win or admit defeat. If you admit defeat, the System will disappear.
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Slowly advancing towards me, I felt his power. I fell for his stupid trap. But gone were the days of weakness and doubt; I had grown stronger, both in body and spirit, and I refused to be cowed by the specter of fear. "I've heard rumors of your strength," he remarked, his words a taunting challenge that hung in the air like a dark omen. "I can handle you."
I stood my ground as he closed the distance between us, our faces mere inches apart. His arm rose like a coiled serpent ready to strike, the air crackling. "You are not allowed to dodge, but you can block it." he declared, his voice echoing with the weight of an unspoken challenge. And then, with a primal roar, he unleashed his attack, his fist hurtling towards me with deadly intent.
Raising both arms in a defensive stance, I braced myself for the impact, steeling myself against the inevitable. And yet, when his fist made contact, it was as if the very fabric of reality itself had been rent asunder. My skin erupted in a bloom of crimson, blood staining the ground beneath me as the force of his attack grazed my flesh with a savage ferocity. But it was what lay beyond was more frightening. Turning to my right, I beheld the devastation wrought by his errant strike, buildings reduced to rubble and earth rent asunder in a testament to the sheer magnitude of his power. A hole, stretching for miles, yawned before me like a gaping maw hungry for destruction. He looked upon his clenched fist with a mixture of frustration and determination. "I missed," he acknowledged, his voice tinged with a grim resolve. "I won't next time."
Should I use it? That Unstoppable Omega Critical Hit? If I use it, he won't live. But what would I use against Thana? He's many times stronger than War. No, no. I have an idea.
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Soul: 630 (-100)
Skills:
Lvl. 2 Divine Might - Embody the spirit of judgment. You maintain free will, unlike the previous. For the next minute, your speed is amplified by 250%. 100 soul to use, one day cooldown. (Activated) The one day cooldown has commenced.
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My cloak shimmered with a radiant white glow, crackling arcs of electricity danced around me in a dazzling display of power. It was a sight to behold, a manifestation of the latent energy coursing through my veins, and for a moment, I allowed myself to bask in the praise that heaped upon me. "Oh, so you also have an 'aura' like me," he remarked, his voice tinged with a note of surprise. "Only specific people have this. Not like it actually hurts anyone though." His words caught me off guard. So, it was a real phenomenon after all. I raised my left hand, channeling my power with a focused intensity that bordered on desperation.
With a swift pivot of my hips, I unleashed a powerful overhand strike, the lightning-infused punch hurtling towards him with lethal precision. But to my astonishment, he reacted with fast instinct, catching my fist in a vice-like grip before it could connect. How did he—? The question died on my lips as I caught sight of his pained expression, his features contorted in a grimace of agony. It was then that I realized the truth: he had not emerged from our clash unscathed. "That was... good," he admitted through gritted teeth, his voice strained with effort. "It took all I had to block that."
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Soul: 610 (-20)
Skills:
Lvl. 1 Strength Booster - Increase your speed by 150% for three seconds. 20 soul to use, one minute cooldown. (Activated) The one minute cooldown has commenced.
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With a subtle shift of my fist, executing what martial artists might call a one-inch punch, I unleashed a devastating blow. His arm recoiled violently, a shockwave radiating outward, shaking the very ground beneath us. The force of my strike tore through flesh and sinew, leaving behind a grotesque tableau of torn skin and exposed bone. The sight was enough to turn even my own stomach. Yet, despite the gruesome spectacle before us, there was no cry of pain, no sign of distress on his face. Only a bead of sweat trickling down his brow as he wiped it away with a determined gesture.
"That was... unexpected." he admitted, his voice tinged with a hint of surprise. I prepared to unleash another barrage of attacks, determined to press the advantage while I still could. I charged up another punch, "I'll give you some more surprises, War."
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Quest 14: Warring Head
Beat War down and prove yourself to be the strongest!
Requirements:
Dispatch War.
Recommendations:
N/A
Rewards:
10000 points
+150 Strength
+Item: Manna Flask
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