Gargoyles were a bit of an odd species on Planet ULTRA.
None knew of where the first generation of their kind originated from. In fact, based on the best estimations that historians could come up with, they seemed to have existed since the dawn of ultranian civilization.
They were creatures of stone who guarded the first ultranian castles and cathedrals. One would assume they had to have been sculpted, but no artist could be found for any of them, barring one conman simply trying to steal credit for them.
In the early centuries of ultranian life, gargoyles were nothing more than decoration. They did not move or speak. They simply existed, perched high atop walls and arches, supposedly offering protection.
It was not until the death of the ULTRA Knight that the gargoyles began to make their presences truly known. The first of their kind to spring to life was Vangre, who had occupied the walls of the castle in Cairn Leone for centuries. He broke free from his stone perch, and glided on heavy wings directly to the throne room. There he met with the then-active king of Leotera, introducing himself and his kind.
Vangre was, physically, one of the most frightening beings anyone had seen. He was gargantuan; unable to stand at his full height while inside the throne room, with wings that could not fold and only served to enlarge his silhouette. And while he was capable of speech and movement, his body was still made of stone, and thus he was unable to change the wild, raging visage he had been sculpted with.
The gargoyle explained that his kind were in fact sentient, and would soon begin to awaken themselves. But he assured the king that they meant no harm, and that most of them would continue to operate as dormant guardians, just as they always had.
Vangre himself committed to protecting the Leoteran capital for the rest of his near-three-hundred-year-long life, before his soul passed on, and his stone body crumbled to dust and rubble.
After their awakening, more gargoyles began to appear all over the world, but this time, through observable means. Many of them manifested physical bodies atop large stone structures, oftentimes in empty spaces left behind by their predecessors. These gargoyles were not the same as the ones previous, however, and were entirely new beings.
As time passed, the creatures began to become even more integrated into Planet ULTRA society. Sculptors learned how to properly craft gargoyle bodies, and these bodies would, in time, become sentient. Not only that, but other species, such as ultranians and elves, were also able to mate with gargoyles. It required those other species to have a very, very, very high tolerance for abrasive physical contact, but it could be done, and thus, gargoyle hybrids were born.
Rocky Roran was not a hybrid, however. He didn’t actually know where he came from, just that he had lived the first 58 years of his life as the guardian of some long-abandoned shrine, and he had grown bored of it. The only signs of life he had encountered during those 58 years were bugs crawling around on the trees and vines that had consumed the abandoned shrine, and, every few years, the occasional hiker passing by.
And so, sick of his life of dormancy, Rocky Roran broke free from the shrine, stretching his arms and wings out wide.
Unfortunately, the stone that comprised his body, as well as that of the ancient shrine, was not in the best condition at the time. His wings crumbled to pieces as he came to life, dropping to the dirt in clouds of dust. He felt no physical pain as it happened, but would later feel aches along his back for many consecutive days.
The newly awakened gargoyle, now free from his stone shackles, began to wander around for the first time, taking in the sights. He had no destination or goal in mind, and simply sated his curiosity. For the few first hours of his awakening, his physical senses started to come into play. He began to hear the sounds of chirping birds and a distant flowing creek for the first time, and when he stepped into the sunlight, he could feel a warmth he’d never experienced before.
Taste was not one that came to him, however, which led to him feeling no particular joy at eating, whether it was bug, fruit, or animal (live or otherwise). He also could not smell, which was helpful at the time, as there was quite a bit of animal waste and corpses lying around the floor of the jungle he awakened in.
His heavy, stone feet carried him miles and miles without tiring until he finally broke free from the jungle, and out into a village. And in that village, for the first time, Rocky Roran met ultranians, and was made aware that the world was far, far bigger than he had known it to be during his first 58 years of life.
And it was there, in that village, that he decided he was going to see every bit of it.
* * * *
ULTRA ROCK
* * * *
“Has the mech made any sudden moves?”
The scout shook his head. “No, ma’am. It’s been dormant for the last eight hours.”
Captain Carmine nodded in response before dismissing the scout. She had just arrived at the Redvein Militia base in the early hours of the morning following the sudden appearance of the mech. She hadn’t even put on her uniform yet, wearing only a simple long-sleeved gray shirt and matching slacks.
As she stepped into her office, she made her way over to her closet to retrieve the final pieces of her usual attire: the red-and-black military jacket, along with the matching beret that capped her head of frizzy brown hair. Oh, and the holster housing her usual forcepistol, of course, which she strapped around her waist.
She then spent the next few minutes reading over a more comprehensive summation of the scouts’ observations, including the exact coordinates the mech had nestled itself into, as well as photographs and a live video feed overlooking the scene.
There were other topics of interest she needed to look over as well, though. While the mech was generally viewed by the Militia as the number one priority, Carmine valued all threats to her home of Redvein equally, whether they be robots appearing from nowhere and demonstrating incredibly destructive powers, giant kaiju rampaging in the wilderness nearby, or more local threats, like the secret illegal forcevein siphoning ring that had been plaguing the city for the past few months.
She hadn’t been Captain of the Militia for very long, having only been promoted less than a year ago, but she had been a part of the force for almost ten years of her 27-year-long life, and had always been as proactive as her rank allowed her to be in confronting the city’s major threats. She’d spearheaded the dismantling of a child smuggling operation, the stopping of an assassination attempt on the mayor, and even the warding off of a wandering troop of skelementals.
From the meetings she had had with other authority figures in the city, the mech that had defeated the kaiju had them worried. It made sense; it was unlike any mech they had seen before and possessed highly destructive power on a scale the Militia was unable to match.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
But while Carmine agreed with the logic, and would certainly be keeping a close eye on the mech, personally, she was more grateful to it than anything, as it had helped protect her home, for whatever reason.
And so, once she had completed her usual early morning ritual, she decided to head back out from the base, gathering a small team with her.
“Where are we going, ma’am?” one of the militiamen asked.
“To the mech,” she answered succinctly. “Well, first we’re going to the confectionery to buy gifts. After that, we’ll drop by the mech to thank the pilot for their assistance yesterday.”
The soldiers accompanying her all exchanged apprehensive looks among themselves before following her out the door.
* * * *
ULTRA ROCK
* * * *
With a yawn, Rocky stretched his arms above his head, his body giving off a similar sound to that of a tire driving over asphalt as it pulled itself from the depths of sleep. “Morning, Rak.”
No response to that came, as was customary. Rakshasa never really knew how to respond to that. Saying “good morning” just wasn’t in his blood, so he never really acknowledged the statement as anything more than the confirmation that Rocky was awake.
The GODBREAKER had a bit of a strange relationship with the concept of sleep in general. Ordinarily, when Rocky went to bed for the night, he would put the mech into sleep mode, shutting down all of its functions to preserve fuel, as well as to keep the machinery from rumbling too much and disturbing the gargoyle’s beauty sleep. However, Rakshasa always remained conscious during this time period.
It wasn’t like he was incapable of “sleeping”, either. When Rocky had first found him in the desert a few weeks prior, he had not been cognizant for quite some time, so it was certainly possible for the GODBREAKER to shut down in some form, but neither of them had been able to determine what that method was.
“Anything interesting happen last night?” the gargoyle then asked.
[THE MORTALS FROM THE CITY HAVE BEEN OBSERVING US.]
Rocky reached around to scratch at his ass. “That makes sense. You give them a show?”
[OF COURSE NOT! I HAVE NO PATIENCE FOR SUCH IDIOCY!]
The gargoyle slowly got to his feet, stepping closer to the console in front of him. His stone hand reached forward for what appeared to be the key for the mech: a small, blood-red piece of shining metal shaped like a sword. An impractically curved and spiky sword, but a sword nonetheless. “Let’s go for a walk, yeah?”
[I CARE NOT WHAT YOU WANT TO DO, MORTAL.]
After removing the key, Rocky moved it up to his neck, strapping the band of it around his neck. He then made his way to the exit, stepping out into the Rosso Woods properly for the first time.
“Oh, yeah, this is gorgeous,” he said, eyes slowly panning over the scarlet landscape in front of him. He immediately found it to be more visually appealing than the jungle he had originally awakened in. The various shades of red gave the entire forest a more vibrant sense of energy, and even if it turned out to be a stock-standard forest in every other way, the novelty of the color change was enough to elicit a sense of thrill and discovery within him.
The key around his neck began to glow with a red light.
[THEY ARE NAUGHT BUT TREES. THE COLOR IS IRRELEVANT.]
Ignoring him, Rocky started his early morning stroll. While there was an obvious trail nearby, he elected to ignore it, and simply make his way through the brush. There was no destination in mind; he simply wanted to explore.
“What kinda wildlife you think this place’s got?” he asked.
[I CARE NOT.]
“Quit bein’ a dick and answer the question.”
The key glowed again, but this time, it seemed to come with an ever-so-slight spark of red electricity.
[RED BUGS. RED BIRDS. RED SQUIRRELS. AND WHATEVER OTHER VERMIN ORDINARILY INHABIT THE FOREST.]
Rocky ducked his head beneath a branch, stepping over the thick roots of the tree that were partially sprouting from the grass. The roots, too, were red. In fact, they appeared to be even brighter in color than the rest of the wood. “You really think the animals are red too, huh?”
[IS THAT NOT THIS FOREST’S GIMMICK?]
With a shrug of the shoulders, Rocky said, “I guess so. But most animals and bugs aren’t green, even though forests tend to be.”
[HMPH.]
“But I guess it depends on why this forest is red, right? Cuz then we’d know if it’s something that could spread to animals, or something that couldn’t.”
The silence from the key said it all. The observation had gotten even Rakshasa’s mind thinking, despite his lack of interest in the entire place.
The answer to the question came to the two soon afterwards, as a pair of monkeys clambered overhead, leaping from branch to branch like gymnasts. Neither was especially red in color; their fur was a typical shade of brown, and not one that offered any notable camouflaging with the red leaves of the trees.
“So it’s only the eyes, huh?” Rocky noted.
[IT MUST BE UNDERGROUND THEN.]
“Hm?”
A harsh growl of irritation emanated from the glowing key.
[THE CAUSE OF THE REDNESS, FOOL! IT MUST COME FROM UNDERNEATH THE SOIL. ONLY THE ROOTS OF THE VEGETATION CAN REACH IT.]
The gargoyle nodded his head. “Ah, that makes sense.” He suddenly dropped down to the floor, fingers clawing into the dirt below.
[WHAT IN THE BLAZING HELLS ARE YOU DOING?]
“Trying to find the stuff that makes the plants red, duh.”
[YOU ABSOLUTE BUFFOON! YOU WILL NEVER FIND IT WITH PITIFUL EXCAVATION METHODS AS THIS!]
Rocky paused as the truth of Rakshasa’s (rather harsh) statement hit him. Dusting his stone hands off, he got back to his feet. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
Instead of continuing onward, the gargoyle swiveled back around 180 degrees, which prompted the GODBREAKER’s voice to ask,
[WHERE ARE YOU GOING?]
“Back to your body. I bet it’s strong enough to dig up the dirt, yeah?”
[WHAT?! OF COURSE IT IS! BUT I AM NO GLORIFIED SHOVEL, MORTAL!]
* * * *
ULTRA ROCK
* * * *
Banditry was another problem that had once plagued Redvein city, before Captain Carmine came into power. Most of the bandits had been driven away from the walls of Redvein, and had instead moved their business to the wilderness surrounding the city.
A trio of such bandits slowly raised their heads up from behind the red foliage they had been using as cover. Their hungry eyes honed in on their intended victims: a civilian family of three having a hike and picnic in the Rosso Woods. It was a cute, picturesque family. All of them looked clean and on the wealthy side, and none of them gave off the impression of being combat capable. There was no guard dog by their side, either, and there hadn’t been any other signs of ultranian life in the vicinity.
The leader of the bandits licked his lips, tightening the grip on his handaxe. While ordinarily the trio of thieves kept violence to a minimum to avoid causing too much of a ruckus, there was something about this soft, vulnerable family in this quiet forest that sparked something in him. A beast like hunger for a little bloodshed, and judging by what he could see of the wife, maybe a little something more than that, too.
He charged in first, so suddenly that his two partners hadn’t even noticed right away. They fumbled with their weapons for a brief moment as they realized he had taken off, and followed suit.
The lead bandit’s eyes widened as he closed the distance between himself and the family setting up their picnic. They hadn’t noticed him either, and he was nearing the edge of the brush and approaching the clearing they were camping in. Once he reached the edge, all it would take is a single forward leap, and his axe could cleanly cut the husband’s head right off of its neck.
His mouth opened wide, spittle flapping out from his tongue like a rabid dog. This was going to be his best score in a long, long time. Just a few steps more….
Strangely, he didn’t seem to be making any forward progress.
His head slowly craned down, and he noticed that simple physical motion was more straining on him than it otherwise should have been. When his eyes finally settled down at a low enough angle, he realized why it was so painful for him to move, and why his face and body felt as though they had been frozen in place, obstructed from moving closer to their goal.
Captain Carmine’s crimson spear had skewered him to a tree.
His neck turned to his left, struggling inch by inch to make the full rotation towards the direction the spear had appeared from. But rather than the Redvein Militia captain, all he saw were the bodies of his two allies, writhing on the forest floor, bodies wrapped in red netting.
And then, emerging from a curtain of red leaves, Captain Carmine stepped into the brush. “I don’t think so, gentlemen.”