Chapter 1.2
Arrival: The Soldier
Miles braced for unexistence as the wave of grey swept the room, but when it passed through his fatigues and enveloped his skin, he felt a pervading sense of serenity infiltrate his mind instead of the hollowness of instant antimaterialization. He clamped down on the feeling, instructing his neural relay to analyze the phenomenon, but there was no response.
Miles felt his rising panic dissipate like sand in his fingers against the onslaught of forced calm. He attempted to reestablish the link between his mind and his neural relay, feeling nothing for the first time in a decade. So he tried again, and again, and again.
Still, nothing happened, and he glared at the rotund priest in blame, staring in focus at his hands as if they would reveal the mysteries behind the strange technologies that allowed him to create such energy with a lazy swipe.
Unique Skill Created - Observe
Suddenly, information popped into his psyche, familiar but different to the advanced, but inherently technological porting of the neural relay. Instinctively, he knew he had a new ability, yet it felt like it had always been there; He could gleam information with a glance, and unlike the neural relay, he didn’t need prior data to do so, as if he was divining knowledge from form alone.
Despite feeling like it was part of his very being, Miles did not trust it. Still, he was curious, and so he narrowed his eyes at the plump priest, willing the truth to emerge.
Name: Cardinal Clay Crassus
Synopsis: Born to nobility, Clay Crassus was raised among other scions of power, his minglings and play dates eventually forming him a connection with the future King of Alvalon.
Despite his talent and plethora of tutors, Clay was never fond of combat, physical or magickal. Instead, Clay focused his efforts on mastering the domain of the mind, making him valued by the King in his role as an agent embedded within the Order of One. However, though his skills in combat are laughable, he can still easily kill you with the same spell he uses to cut his food.
His most fearsome, yet unknown spell involves not only the manipulation of feelings, but memory itself.
Currently, he is curious about the spell you are using against him.
Miles looked up in alarm from the wall of text that appeared in his mind to see the priest- no, Cardinal, staring at him, his head slightly tilted in interest. Miles’ mind raced as he thought about the information he just gathered, realizing how calm he still was despite how much he shouldn’t be.
“Welcome, Great Heroes! I beseech you to save our world!” The cardinal shouted, tearing his gaze away from the anomaly to address the dazed crow. “I’m sure you must all be disoriented from your arrival, but rest assured, we are not your enemies.”
Miles sifted through his memories, feeling a sense of deja vu at the man’s words as he thought of the man’s description, of his skillset. He didn’t believe in magick, but he’d seen things that might as well have been; Ships that could cross oceans in minutes, beams of death that glassed cities, inhuman beasts that could fell entire companies with just their blade and shield.
So while Miles didn’t trust the validity of the information in his mind, he could still test it. He sifted through his memories, trying to feel for any gaps or discrepancies.
You have been summoned by Fate itself to save our world, our very existence from a threat that cares not for either.”
The last thing he remembered before waking up here was sitting in a floater, inspecting his weapons one last time before their mission began. Then, he was here, surrounded by civilians too clean and just as lost as he was. But there was something else, an impression of a man once there…
“But worry not, Great Heroes, for you will not be mere soldiers in this fight, you will be legends, lavished under our thanks.”
There
At the front of the group he was clustered in was a puddle of blood. Another glance revealed a similar puddle just a few feet away. The crimson liquid was so conspicuous amongst the sterling white marble, yet no one else seemed to notice or care.
Name: Blood of Shiro
Synopsis: The final remains of the Hero once named Shiro, his presence short-lived and all but unremembered.
Killed in a blow so overpowering it shattered his protection in one strike, Shiro did not even realize his life was over until his liberated head was on the floor.
Miles remembered now, bits and pieces coming together to paint a blurry picture. There was a man, a spokesperson of sorts for their group. He was arguing with the Cardinal in protest of their kidnapping and killed for it. But Miles would not levy accusations, he would not even show that he knew. He would pretend ignorance, and bide his time.
“Of course, I’m sure you are all tired from your journey. Sercados.” Miles looked up to see the lapdogs of the Cardinal straighten up, evidently being addressed by the foreign term. “Please escort the Great Heroes to their chambers.”
Miles watched as the crowd of dozens of priests moved forward as one, each moving towards a specific hero. Being towards the back of the group, Miles watched as they exchanged words with their dazed target, receiving a dumb nod in return before they walked away with a hero in tow.
One of the priests was walking towards him, and so he focused his ability on them.
Name: Sercado Gabriel Bright
Synopsis: Orphaned at the tender age of 9, Gabriel was raised in a church of the Order of One. Inspired by the kindness he was shown, Gabriel dedicated his life to becoming a Sercado - a vaunted position given only to the devoted and talented - eventually realizing his dream at the young age of 18.
Despite his steadfast belief in the teachings of the Order of One, Gabriel holds reverent respect for the Three Heroes, with borderline worship for the Saint - like many in the clergy.
This admiration is projected onto you as well, and if Gabriel’s mind were untampered with, he would be shocked and appalled by the Cardinal’s actions.
Currently, Gabriel is very nervous but excited to speak with you.
“H-Hello, Great Hero. Would you allow me the honor of showing you to your chambers?” The young man asked politely, pushing through his fear to look Miles in the eyes - or rather his brow, but the effect was the same.
“No,” Miles denied instantly. “Take me to your data center-”
Data Centers do not exist. The appropriate term is “Library.”
“-To your library,” Miles corrected, though he bristled at the sudden and uninvited information, his fear increasing.
“Are you sure, Great Hero? Do you not require rest?” Gabriel asked in concern, making Miles narrow his eyes, Gabriel gulping at the response.
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Name: Sercado Gabriel Bright
Synopsis: Gabriel’s mind has been impressed with the belief that the Heroes will be drained from their arrival into this world.
“...I have been trained to withstand exhaustion,” Miles eventually settled on, reluctantly using the information from his mysterious ability.
Despite his misgivings, however, his statement worked, Gabriel’s eyes lighting up in excitement as the Hero lived up to his expectations.
“Really? Are you a knight, Great Hero?” He asked, his hands politely held down and at his sides through sheer willpower.
Miles scrunched his brow at the question, confused as to why the boy would know the term. “No, I am not large enough to be a candidate,” he answered. Only the most behemoth of men were worth the armor, and at 5’10”, he was not one of them. “Now, library,” he reminded, setting them back on course.
“Oh! Of course, my apologies, Great Hero,” Gabriel replied meekly.
The young priest then motioned for Miles to follow him, before leading him out of the grand hall and into a series of labyrinthian hallways. Along their long, almost circular feeling route, neither said a word. Gabriel was too nervous, unable to see the Hero’s expression while he was behind him, and Miles simply didn’t care to speak. Eventually, they rounded a corner to see a large, wooden door guarded by two men in leather and steel armor, a halberd in their hands.
Miles frowned in distaste at the primitive protection, his derision deepening when they crossed their pointy sticks across the door in a feeble act of intimidation.
“Halt,” one of the guards authoritatively stated. “Sercado, who is this man?” The guard questioned, his voice warped by a thick cockney accent.
Gabriel glanced in confusion between the guard and Miles, the Hero’s foreign clothes making his status obvious to him. “He is a Great Hero, sir,” he said slowly.
Miles didn’t like the way the other man was eyeing him, narrowing his gaze at him in return.
Name: Rorik Elm
Synopsis: A lowly, but trusted guard of the King, Rorik was given his last name due to his contribution in a skirmish near Elm River.
Rorik isn’t particularly bright, but he is loyal, a trait the King values above all.
Rorik knew you were a Hero as soon as he saw you and is currently suspicious of your being here.
“Oh, a Great Hero, is it? My apologies fer not noticing. Great Hero, why are ya here?” Rorik repeated, making Gabriel bristle at the lack of respect.
“This is the library. I am here to use it,” Miles answered levelly.
“Why?” The guard immediately replied.
“To learn from it,” he calmly answered.
“Learn what?” Another immediate follow-up, voice challenging.
“Information,” he coolly replied.
“What information?” Rorik pestered goadingly.
“Enough!” Gabriel shouted indignantly, face red in anger. Miles raised an eyebrow at the unexpected behavior, while the two guards firmed their grips on their weapons, though their faces betrayed their apprehension. “Cease your disrespect, guard. You speak to a Great Hero,” Gabriel ordered, his voice firm and commanding, so unlike his timidity in the great hall.
Rorik’s features scrunched in ire at the treatment but averted his eyes, cowed. “...Apologies, Sercado. Please, enter,” he bit out through clenched teeth. The two guards pulled their halberds out of the path, unblocking the door.
Gabriel began moving forward, Miles following behind, the priest’s chin held high and his face dignified as he moved past the guards. With a flick of his hand, the large doors swung themselves open, revealing the library.
It was far more grandiose than Miles was expecting, a far cry from the cramped interiors of data centers. There were more shelves than he could count, each of them lined with more books than he had ever seen in his life from floor to ceiling. Illuminating the library were floating candles, their fires glowing unnaturally bright for their size, yet they weren’t glaring, instead soft and warm. Along the walls, there were colossal works of glass, windows allowing the lunar light of the night to beam through in silver rays.
Miles followed Gabriel as he led him to a large desk near the entrance to the room, a wizened old man hunched over behind it.
“Please meet the Keeper of Books,” Gabriel introduced, the old man’s head briefly popping up from where it was lodged between the pages of a tome larger than his torso.
“O-oh. Visitors. What can I do for you, young man?” The old man asked with some surprise, his question directed at Gabriel, eyes still locked on his book.
Miles focused his gaze on the old man, using his ability as he’d done for everyone else he’d met so far.
Warning: Insufficient Mana.
Mana: 12/35
But instead of information being delivered to his mind, as expected, he felt an immaterial churning in his stomach, energy swirling only to collapse back on itself. Miles read the notification in confusion, ignorant of what mana was. His eyes flitted to the two rectangles at the top left of his vision, easily ignorable as some kink in his sight. But now, one of the rectangles was filled to only over a third of its way, the red one still full.
“Fascinating,” the old man breathed out. “Would you mind doing that again?”
Miles felt a stab of worry emerge at his words, a feeling that actually stayed this time, ironically calming him down somewhat. “No,” he answered.
“A shame,” the old man accepted easily. “Are you here for anything?”
“The Great Hero has come for knowledge,” Gabriel stated with pride, as if he was showing off the virtues of the Hero.
“Oh?” The librarian hummed, perking up at the mention of Miles’ title. “And what would you like to know, ye of another world?” He asked, eyes now glinting with interest as his voice intensified, losing its doddering quality.
“I would like to know what I was summoned for, and where I am,” Miles deadpanned, the librarian’s face falling slightly at the answer.
“I see. Were you not informed on your arrival?” He asked, tone tinged with pity.
“An enemy was mentioned,” Miles hedged, the only lead he had.
“Indeed.” The old man straightened from his hunch, any illusion of weakness dashed as he came to his full height, and Miles felt a static charge permeate the air, the man’s eyes seeming to glow. “Then allow me to paint you the full picture.”
——————————————————————————————
The Parasite Queen. Gold’s Bane.
An image of a falling meteor, decimating the earth for miles upon landing.
The Bug God. Destroyer of the Zolotoy Empire.
From ground zero - shadowed by the smoke and fire - a being stood.
Arriving from the stars in a ball of flame, the Parasite Queen entertained no dialogue and offered no recourse.
Where the being walked, life ceased. Flora withered and shriveled, the earth becoming barren rock and dust. Fauna slowed, collapsing in exhaustion.
From start to finish, the Parasite Queen decimated the most powerful nation on Unis in under a year.
When they stood once more, they were different, corrupted. Rotten flesh and fur falling off in chunks, yet they continued to advance.
Igor of Steel, Lacerator Lanya, Mikhail the Chained, Sky Blotter Kira…
Men and women garbed in fantastical armor, all standing as one with their weapons drawn and a confidence born from a thousand battles won carved into their being.
All slaughtered like cattle under the might of the descended god.
Like their strings were cut, they slumped over limply, only to rise once more with blank expressions and bloodied clothes.
…even the Golden Man.
An aureate wave passed through their animated corpses, and when it dissipated, they were no longer there, a new man standing in their place, brilliantly shining sword drawn as he squared off.
Bested, taking an entire city with him to leave only a scratch…
The man began to glow from every pore in his body, his eyes an aureate beacon before the energy was released in a massive, golden explosion.
…leaving none strong enough to oppose.
The dust settled, and within moments, the lifeless ash was trampled by monstrosities.
“And now, we fight to halt an unrelenting advance, our borders shrinking by the day,” the old man finished, and the hordes of flesh and chitin fizzled out of view.
Miles stood resolute, seemingly imperturbed by the revelation of who he was expected to eliminate, stoically taking in the information. Next to him, Gabriel’s face was somber and tinged with anger, but when his gaze turned to the Hero in front of him, hope firmed his spirit.
“So, young man, are you sure you want to know more?” He asked, voice soft and understanding, the option to give up there and unjudged.
Miles took a deep breath, mind racing back to the death and destruction he’s seen, faced, and given out…
“Tell me everything,” he ordered.
…Some bugs didn’t hold a candle to it.