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rubastax-blog · 6 years

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Two minutes late… She was supposed to be here by now. Couldn't have forgotten the meeting, not considering who - and what - she was. She was stalling on purpose, probably trying to make him nervous. But he wouldn't buckle, not to that offworlder. This was his neighborhood. His livelihood. He wouldn't get chased out by some prissy bitch. For all he knew she was some uppity rich kid with no actual idea of who she was fucking with.

He'd been entertaining himself by warping the light around himself so it looked like he wasn't there for just long enough that the bartender had to double-take. Almost felt bad for fucking with the poor girl, but not quite enough to stop. Vulkan expected the sound of heels, but got the sound of metal clicking against concrete, the footsteps of three, not one. He expected some uppity businessgirl with a pretty little umbrella, maybe some subtle cybernetics, all done up in that horrific office uniform, two stereotypical bodyguards in black suits.

The mobster heard them enter through the entrance behind him, and held off on trying to see what the so-called “Akaso” or what was probably her bodyguards looked like. He tried to make himself look as laid-back as possible, leaning into his seat and slowly swirling the whiskey inside his glass between taking small sips. He heard the trio take a step towards his booth. And another. And another.

At that moment, a distinct sense of wrong overcame Vulkan. It felt as though the closer the woman came to actually coming into view for him, a little bit of colour was drained from the world. The two glass-fulls of whiskey he'd warped into existence after buying the first one seemed to evaporate into nothingness, and even the cigarette ash and butts he'd left in the ashtray seemed to disintegrate.

She looked nothing like he expected - the outfit, the mask, the guns, the sheer sense of ego carried in her every movement. Akaso sat down in the booth, leaning back. One arm over the seat, one leg on the table, the other dangling in mid-air. She didn't even seem to acknowledge Vulkan's existence.

The first words that came out of her mouth didn't even have anything to do with the deal. Her voice sounded like an intentionally distorted artificial voicebox. Simultaneously too perfect and too demonic to come out of a human, but only just.

”IB-1, IB-2, at ease.”

”Affirmative, ma'am.”, two male, synthesized voices sounded from behind Vulkan. Their identical, armored, masked figures came into view as the creatures completely shifted from their professional demeanor to almost child-like gawking at all the different drinks and pastries the cafe had to offer.

Akaso glanced at them, letting out a muffled chuckle from beneath her mask. It was the accursed ask, it must've been. Just looking at the thing hurt his eyes. She reached up, and took it off, setting it face-up on the table.

Every fiber of Vulkan's being wanted to stand up and bitch-slap her for not acknowledging him, bodyguards be damned. In his core he truly believed he could kill her and her bodyguards right then and there if he wanted to.

She ignored him, even as she called over the barista and asked for a custom drink.

She ignored him, even as the barista went pale at the exact dosages this woman had requested, yet was convinced into complying with an underhanded hundred-credit chit.

She ignored him, even as she took the first sip of that fluorescent orange liquid, muttered something about it being good enough, and put it back down.

Then she looked at him, and Vulkan was convinced that the cafe would come to be his grave. It was as if the image of him, paralyzed, amused the demonic creature before him, if that slight smirk and overly polite tone were anything to go by.

”Y'know, it cost me an awful lot of money and resources to buy this place out, let alone the surrounding properties. It cost me even more to have it built into something respectable that my customers would bother with. So why? Why don't you just… Leave? Run your little mafia somewhere else? It's not like I'd chase you.”

Another sip of that infernal swill. One of her goons said something to the barista, and handed her a credit chit. The girl ran into the back, and brought out three apple pastries. The “IB”s took two, while the barista set one down in front of Akaso, which prompted a “Thank you dear.” and another twenty-credit chit.

”At least someone's having a good day.”, Vulkan thought to himself. The mobster gathered every scrap of willpower still left in his bones, in desperation attempting his trademark trick - warping a speeding bullet into existence in front of his target.

“Th-these str-reets belo-ong to m-ee.”

He saw the air in front of him shudder as his thoughts became reality. The bullet manifested, but before it could even move an inch, an ear-splitting whirr sounded from the mask, and a blinding flash of red lightning struck. From the mask, to the bullet, and to a single spot on his right hand.

Vulkan wanted to scream, but he couldn't. He wanted to run, but he couldn't. He would've shat himself, but he couldn't. All he could do was bear the incomprehensible pain that shot through his hand, and was now slowly spreading along his bloodstream. Bloody thorns of red crystal seemed to grow out of the wound, procedurally going up his arm, penetrating muscle, skin, and clothing alike.

All the while, Akaso just watched. No pity, just a sick amusement in her face. Like she didn't even consider him human. He saw her raise her right hand, and the same thorns that were growing from his arm covered hers in less than a second, no sign of pain in her face. The thorns grew and grew, forming into scaled and soon plates, entirely encasing her arm in a beastial fascimille of its form.

She moved it as if it was her own limb, and observed its claws as if they were fingernails. At this point, Vulkan's own forearm was entirely encased in crimson crystal up to the elbow, and the pain started permeating the joint, the crystalline structure penetrating his sinews and ligaments, yet somehow avoiding the veins.

Her flaming gaze finally shifted to him, and there was no mercy, no amusement, no hatred behind those eyes. There was only disdain and pity.

”I know you're a reality warper, Vulkan. My ancestors waged and won a war of extinction against creatures like you, did you really think we'd be vulnerable to your tricks?”

The glow within her eyes intensified for a short moment. The crystal encasing and penetrating Vulkan's arm glowed a bright red, crackled with an unworldly energy. It emanated a crystalline ringing sound which felt like it penetrated the deepest depths of his being, it felt like fire in his veins, like a blinding light that consumed all until nothing was left.

He woke up in a back alley, his right arm torn apart from the inside-out, yet free of crystals. When he tried warping it back into a healthy state, nothing happened.

Akaso took a bite of her pastry, and smiled to herself. Her two bodyguards walked back into the cafe. One of them had blood on his hands, yet there was no blood on the floor.

”IB-1, IB-2, feel free to order a round of stims on my account for getting rid of our “friend” so cleanly.”

The two nodded, while IB-1 did a “thumbs up” with his bloodied hand. They pulled back their masks, revealing what looked like blackened human skulls, partially encased in black synthetic muscle, their empty eye sockets filled with the same ghastly light their bodies emitted.

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rubastax-blog · 6 years

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rubastax-blog · 6 years

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A mighty roar resounds across Novahome's south-eastern coast. The city of Triumvirate shudders to its very foundation, all those who inhabit it stopping in their tracks.

Reality itself shudders and shifts, a fluctuating field of Void Energy becoming visible around the great megatropolis built upon the body of a God-machine mere years ago. The sole bulwark against terror, fueled by the great machine and the people who live upon it alike.

A city-wide alert is broadcast directly into the implants of its inhabitants, however despite this fact it can be clearly heard being projected across the entire city, and numerous hidden blast doors all around open up to allow for easy evacuation.

"Subdimensional incursion detected, please evacuate into the nearest shelter in an orderly fashion and stand by for termination of the threat. Licensed citizens with NovaSec-grade or higher combat enhancements may disregard this alert at their own discretion."

While a significant portion of the city's inhabitants did evacuate, a few dozen remained. Mercenaries, enhanced to the point where they had little more than their original skull remaining, old, musclebound sailors covered in seams from biotech enhancements, foolhardy young cyborgs with the newest cutting edge in sensory enhancement.

Alas, they remained not to fight, but to watch what would unfold in person. The Triumvirate's inert body stirred to life, its skeletal mouth opening up just in time for the unseen threat that had the entire city on lockdown to show itself.

The creature wasn't out of the ordinary. A brutish giant, nearly the size of a small building, bearing the telltale many-eyed, tentacle-mouthed visage of a Composite Subdimensional. The very fabric of space and time reshaped like clay to the beast's will, and from the sand it walked upon arose a great host of angels and demons alike, a testament to their origins, for from within the Fleshgod, subdimensionals were not the only creatures born. In her perpetual war against those who wield the Void's cleansing light, the Fleshgod looked upon ancient mythology, combining numerous Old Earth religious canons into a single realm of warped reality, a pocket universe for her monsters to spew forth from.

With each step of the Composite's elephant-like feet, more servants arose from the sand, angel and demon alike. The creature managed to make its way within less than fifty meters of the city's Void Shroud before an air-shattering noise echoed, its point of origin just above the Triumvirate's maw.

From within the sleeping God-Machine, two lights rocketed towards the sky at supersonic velocity, orange and purple. Two lights, one a mere reflection of the other, yet still immensely powerful in its own right.

The Composite's horned, betentacled head shot up, an ear-splitting screech leaving its hidden mouth, its warping of reality intensifying. The beast stomped the ground, and much of its summoned minions began throwing all they had at the city's Void Shroud, while the beast itself along with the more powerful of its servants turned to face its enemy.

Into the sand, two craters were made when they landed. The venerable Lord of Shards and her most recent creation, equal parts a free entity and safeguard against the potential of death. A vessel for the Lord in case her body were to be damaged beyond repair, too powerful to be locked away in a vault, and thus, made autonomous by the virtue of AI.

"Take care of the smallfry, if you would." the Lord commanded and requested of her companion in equal part. He obeyed without question, not for lack of independent thought, but for immense loyalty to the Lord. The blades upon His arms flowed and changed, the living metal that made them up seemingly gaining in mass almost thrice over, before superheating to a shining white. His eyes shined a bright purple, and the slaughter began. Wherever the blade-limbed AI went, reality settled down, restored to its rightful place, and with the greatest of ease he cleaved through the lesser of the Composite's servants.

All the while, the Lord simply... Spoke.

"Core, Clock On." she spoke, an unholy light igniting within her eyes, the belt upon her waist slowly coming to life with the very same glow.

The Composite screeched yet louder, directing four of its greater servants towards the Lord. She moved not an inch, for she trusted her companion to react in time. And he did, horrifically mutilating the angelic creatures with his livingmetal limbs.

"Core, Clock Up." she spoke yet again, strange circuitry upon her torso becoming visible, glowing with the same light as her eyes, water from the sand beneath her feet evaporating, a shroud of crackling crimson energy forming around the horned Novahuman.

"Core. Overclock!" she spoke one final time, the very sand beneath her feet beginning to melt, the tips of her hair turning a flaming orange as she seemingly began to cry tears of black ichor. The belt upon her waist had snapped open, clearly revealing a bright orange crystal crackling with dimensional power.

Music, please.

"Thou who art the innocent rage, the innocent hatred, the innocent sword!" she spoke, her voice booming far louder than any human's ever could, removing the livingmetal blade from its place upon her lower back and scraping its cutting edge through the track ontop of her belt. Crimson sparks crackle across it, and jagged crystal begins to grow upon its surface.

"Become one with my soul, one with my body, and let us walk this path of destruction together!"

Within mere seconds, the three-foot blade was completely encased in crystal, at this point entirely hidden inside a titanic, crystalline greatsword, the discharge of Void Energy so great even the Lord's left arm and horns had become fully encased in crystal.

The sound barrier breaks, and the small pool of molten glass she had been standing in at this point is pulled along with the Lord's charge, splattering the mutilated angels. With a single swing of her titanic blade, the Composite's left arm is cleaved off, the Lord gripping onto one of its horns to use as a pivot point. It breaks from the sheer force halfway through, the Lord spinning in mid-air, cleaving a wide gash into the Composite's side.

As quickly as it all begun, it ended. The Composite collapses on the ground, writhing in pain as its very essence is burned away by the power of the Void, the creature having been warped together from many lesser Subdimensionals, rendering it even more vulnerable to the cleansing light than the lowest of the low among its kin.

It's just another Tuesday at Triumvirate City.

#writing #original-character #demon #half-demon #halfdemon #mythos #sci-fi #mecha #transhumanism #space #bio #biography

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rubastax-blog · 6 years

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BIRTH AND CHILDHOOD Akaso was born a late-generation Novahuman in the depths of Neo-Tokyo, a city gripped by the Yakuza - neither an all bad, nor an all good situation. Though they were, well, the Yakuza, they and their subordinated gangs kept the city running (mostly) quietly laundering funds into their own pockets. He was born into a small, albeit successful, biotech startup - simply named Akaso Industries - and as quite a few, he dropped out of school after he was no longer legally required to attend, continuing his education at home. Victor, his father, inadvertently drilled biotech into his son through exposure and interest, as body modification was picking up in popularity in the undercities at the time. He funneled all available funds towards improving products and furthering the development of his magnum opus, a possible solution to the drawbacks of classical body modification. EXCERPTS FROM THE DIARY OF AN INVENTOR'S SON Stardate 4522 April 16th Upped the caffeine dosage in my stimulant mix today. Dad said I'd have to pay for my own ZeroTolerance if I kept drinking the usual stimulant mix this often. I don't think he realizes he doesn't pay me for helping at the clinic. April 21st New customer came in, grown-ass man and didn't even have a body mod manager yet. Who goes for the better part of three decades without a single mod? Also checked the price on ZeroTolerance biomods. A kid could do better for less. Hell, I can do better for less. There is an .omt file attached, detailing a cobbled together but functional biomod with the same function as the expensive ZeroTolerance brand. By the trash code, it seems to be based on a hair regrowth modification. April 29th Asked dad to let me use the bioforge after we closed down for the day. Really makes you think just how primitive the tech was back when they designed these, fuckin' thing doesn't even have a VR API. At least the command prompts make sense. May 8th Why and how does modifying brain receptors change hair colour? It's a nice shade of pink though. May 13th I'll never get tired of the surprised looks first-timers give me when I start screwing in the supports for their chrome. As if we're some sort of ass-backwards ghetto clinic without proper pain suppressors. May 20th Dad's working on his "Big Project" again. Hasn't left the lab for almost three days. May 22nd Three arms, a BMM, and a re-engineering. Thank the Void we're allowed to put the kids down under for most of the process. Looked in dad's project files once the customers left. That much original code and he calls it "Project Shardlord", really? Like some cheesy newretropunk movie. April 16th Upped the caffeine dosage in my stimulant mix today. Dad said I'd have to pay for my own ZeroTolerance if I kept drinking the usual stimulant mix this often. I don't think he realizes he doesn't pay me for helping at the clinic. April 21st New customer came in, grown-ass man and didn't even have a body mod manager yet. Who goes for the better part of three decades without a single mod? Also checked the price on ZeroTolerance biomods. A kid could do better for less. Hell, I can do better for less. There is an .omt file attached, detailing a cobbled together but functional biomod with the same function as the expensive ZeroTolerance brand. By the trash code, it seems to be based on a hair regrowth modification. April 29th Asked dad to let me use the bioforge after we closed down for the day. Really makes you think just how primitive the tech was back when they designed these, fuckin' thing doesn't even have a VR API. At least the command prompts make sense. May 8th Why and how does modifying brain receptors change hair colour? It's a nice shade of pink though. May 13th I'll never get tired of the surprised looks first-timers give me when I start screwing in the supports for their chrome. Like we're some sort of ass-backwards ghetto clinic without proper pain suppressor staples. May 20th Dad's working on his "Big Project" again. Hasn't left the lab for almost three days. May 22nd Three arms, a BMM, and a re-engineering. Thank the Void we're allowed to put the kids down under for most of the process. Looked in dad's project files once the customers left. That much original code and he calls it "Project Shardlord", really? Like some cheesy newretropunk movie. Jun 6th Another new batch of mods, took me almost three hours to sort the templates and load 'em up. Turns out the horn growth capsule was the prototype, not the "Bombardier". Some sort of succubus/incubus themed cosmetic mod line, figures. Alright, let's see what the modpack has: - Black sclera is easy enough, so is changing the pupil shape and iris colour. - Bit iffy to get the shape right every time, but that's been worked out to perfection decades ago. - The horns should work fine, though the shape variations across pairs are a bit too much for my liking. - Pointy ears are child's play, considering you can do it without any actual genetic mods. Bit out of place to gender such a simple modpack, but I suppose including a temporary enhancement to the sexual traits of any given individual is difficult without a masculine/feminine distinction. And the "bonus features", don't even get me started. They must've dug into the scrap fields to get a template that still supports Pain Inversion. Pain Inversion was a technique which originated before the flight from Terra used in live genetic modification to "Invert" the immense full-body pain associated with such procedures into mind-numbing euphoric pleasure. It quickly fell out of use outside seedy mod junkie brothels once less potentially sexual forms of pain mitigation came into existence, and was never widely used by the inhabitants of Novahome in the first place thanks to their altered and considerably lesser natural perception of pain. Jun 10th New customer, kinda mousy looking. Had mostly covering clothes, though kinda suggestive. Long hoodie. Short shorts. Stockings with a garterbelt. Boots looked like sneakers. Reminded me of myself some three years back, actually. Bought the "Succubus" female pattern modpack. Asked me to hold off on the pain suppressants, apparently he trusted the mod to work. I mean, it did. But I'm the one that gets weird looks when a customer makes noise during a procedure. The mod turned out great, too. The guy went from kinda androgynous to perfectly passable, not to mention how well the horns turned out. Bent back and kinda to the side, textures like cracked stone. Jun 19th A really nice old man came in today, had no significant mods beyond the standard health upkeep stuff. Gave me the heartiest laugh I've ever heard and asked me to give him arms that can crush the turret of a tank. Had the proper licenses and power limiters installed so I didn't really have a reason to refuse. Lemme tell ya, hydraulic fluid will take your eye out if you overpressurize it. I'll have to hook up a cybernetic for the time being before I can tailor an ocular regeneration mod for my genetics. Jun 24th Looked in the demon-themed modpack at the bioforge. Most of the code was unencrypted, if messy. Apparently the eye modification is based on exactly what I need, so it should theoretically fix my eye if I fiddle with the code a bit. Jun 26th Pain Inversion is uh... Let's just say I get why the guy made noise. I think I must've activated trash code from the male variant because it gave me abs and toned most of my musculature, not that I'm complaining. Having control over my pupils is kinda fun too, not a proper wetware replacement but it's a nice bonus. Oh, one last thing. I like my horns. GENETIC DEFECTS Due to simple bad luck, Akaso was stricken with one of the few genetic defects Novahumans at the time were still yet to root out and cure. A degenerative skin disease which caused the skin to dry, crack, weep and bleed in places of movement such as under the neck, elbows, knees, et cetera. Akaso fell into depression as a result, becoming reclusive and antisocial. Around this time, Victor had left Akaso to run the clinic by himself while the man sunk all of his time and resources into finishing his Magnum Opus. This is where our story continues, and the Lord of Shards is born. EXCERPTS FROM THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN INVENTOR Thanks for buying - or as is likely the case - 'legally obtaining' my stupid little ego trip. In these voice logs I'm going to remove any semblance of mysticism or legend surrounding my upbringing, early life, and how I came to be, well, myself. My childhood was... Surprisingly normal and rather dull, actually. I did all the things a kid does, I slacked off from doing chores, I messed around with temporary 'mods, played games for days at a time, crawled around in the maintenance tunnels lookin' for shiny trinkets. Disappointing, ain't it? No tragic backstory, no motivation for revenge. It must go wrong somewhere right? There's gotta be a reason why I went through with imprinting the alpha mechafract swarm. 'Course there is, but that'll come a bit later. So teens, puberty, first permanent 'mods. Fun times. I don't think I've gotta go into details here, everyone knows the story behind how I look. Worked at the first - and at the time only - of our clinics to make my keep, that's when I learned to work a bioforge. Victor would always buy a replication license for some brand-name 'mod, and we'd sit over it for weeks filing in the scrambled code and improving the design. That's right, the big bad 'Akaso Industries' started out making off-brand gene mods of nebulous legality. We needed the money, Victor sunk everything into his 'big project'. His Magnum Opus. That revolutionary piece of tech that you, the listener, and everyone around you has coursing through your veins and keeping your body from degenerating like a Homo Sapiens would. Those precious, precious nanomachines that you have instead of bone marrow. Wanna know how they came to be? Well, there was this genetic defect, back in the day. It was a rare degenerative disease that affected a small portion of the population, and caused the immune system to react to benign materials and substances as if they were serious threats. An 'allergy' if you will. If you got it, your skin would start drying up in spots, reddening, and itching. Then it'd start cracking, weeping and bleeding. Even basic movement would cause discomfort, and the worst part? It was the only of its kind that slipped through genetic re-engineering. It always emerged again no matter how thoroughly they went through your genetics to look for defects. The only way to get rid of it was a complete bone marrow transplant, and without nanos... Even with our tech it was excessively expensive and took long to recover from. Even worse, it could cause permanent changes in body chemistry and personality. So as I'm sure you already know, I got it. When I was about seventeen, I got hit with a pretty severe case and my mental health kinda went downhill from there. Depression, anxiety, insecurity, what have you. I'd wear mostly covering clothes to hide my scarred, cracked skin. Victor started abusing stimulants, never slept, spent weeks in the bioforge. One day he told me not to open up and come see him in the back, that he had something to help with my skin. I don't think I've ever enjoyed pain more than that day, y'know. Nerve endings went first, then my brain. 'Ship of Theseus' sort of deal, to keep me going throughout the conversion even when my organs got tossed or replaced. Watching your own bone marrow getting mulched by ravenous nanomachines and rebuilt at the same time, and being able to feel it happening? It's an experience, let me tell you that. He died a few months later from a heart attack due to one of his veins getting plugged up with inert nanos, and that combined with his stimulant abuse caused him to just kinda drop dead. The marrow in one of his bones was partly converted. Mad bastard tested the nanos on himself until they worked. So there you have it, you wanted my 'dark secret'. I got an immunological defect and my father saw it as a sign I'm meant to carry on and finish his Magnum Opus. OVERLORD OF SHARDS Akaso would go on to slay several Subdimensionals through heavy firepower, dissect them, and frankenstein together a just-functional D-Coupler Core from the remains of organic cores, those of mere Subdimensionals being fragile and shattering upon their host's death. He used it as a power source for his mechafract at first, however lacked the technology and experience to effectively control it. Despite the immense power granted by the D-Coupler, Akaso still nearly killed himself using it to slay the eponymous Hyperbeast. It overloaded his body to the point where his legs and entire upper torso burned out, crippling him for several months. Thus began the work on the Overlord Driver to help tame the power of the D-Coupler. There is not much to say here, the project was largely successful. Over the course of several years, the Akaso Industries Headquarters would be proverbially scuttled and all hardware moved to a new site located in the scrap fields on Novahome, the property being dirt-cheap to the point where he bought out almost half of the continent upon which the scrap fields were located, and raw material as well as valuable tech being more than bountiful. Now, Akaso Industries exists in the form of an undisclosed, heavily fortified facility deep in the scrap fields, its existence only proven to the outside world by the massive amount of proxy-shielded network traffic going in and out of the fields. THE FIRST HYPERBEAST AFTER TWO DECADES After a long twenty-three years, Akaso was alerted to the presence of a growing subdimensional instability - the telltale sign that a Hyperbeast has appeared somewhere and is wreaking havoc. He used it as an opportunity to test his newfound abilities, tracking it down with little to no effort and fought the beast in hand to hand combat. Despite its additional pair of limbs and unfathomable strength for its size, Akaso pushed his then still developing body to its limits and crippled the beast, ruining its joints by bending them backwards. The still-living, but powerless reality warper was then taken to Akaso Industries HQ, and placed within a containment tank, perpetually being exposed to just enough Void energy that it survived in a state between life and death. Data obtained from the body of this Hyperbeast served as the building blocks upon which the synthetic D-Coupler cores were built, and made way for the development of Type-03. THE TYPE-03 PROJECT: DESIGNATION HYPERBEAST Aside from the manufacturing portions required to improve upon the previous design and its performance while separating the core and blade physically, a significant alteration to the Overlord System was discovered during maintenance. It was found that Akaso, in his attempt to take control over the Overlord Driver, had the still-living Hyperbeast Core installed in place of his heart instead of the manufactured duplicate, which was instead placed into the Overlord Driver. This way, the Overlord Driver can not function without Akaso nearby as the link only works over a short distance, while Akaso suffers no negative consequences as he appears to be capable of utilizing the Hyperbeast Core just as easily as a manufactured version. Of course thanks to this, the aggressive evolutionary tendencies of Mechafract have caused him to develop an exceedingly effective Voidlink interface, removing the necessity for creating one from scratch. It was also discovered that the Hyperbeast in question - the Alkahest Napalm beast, in fact - had overtaken the base programming of his Mechafract, and was the root cause for the existence of Type ZERO. Speaking of which, the original strain has gone extinct as a result of the fact that Akaso is the primary Body Modification Manager firmware update server, and the Hyperbeast strain has caused a significant increase in self-defense cases. The improvements and changes to the functionality of the Overlord Driver that stemmed from the Type-03 Project had rendered Vermillion type One obsolete, granting an end to the era of transformation-reliant heroics THE TRIUMVIRATE [The Faith's Crusade] After the Composite Titan fell, the more powerful of the Subdimensionals set a millennium plan in motion. While their children, who worshipped them as Gods, became little more than pests, the Old Ones sought out a new civilization. One impressionable enough to influence, untouched by the light of the Void. They would serve as the Old Ones' bulwark against the Novahumans. And so it is, that Novahome came under attack, in the name of "The Great Ones". Great ships of flowing grace, ebony and gold. The planet's Void Energy saturated atmosphere not a threat in and of itself, the Holy ships of The Faith pushed onward through the solar system, all the while being watched by the innumerable mining drones and solar high orbit satellites that the Novahumans filled their new home with over millennia. Down on the planet, in the megacities of Novahome, almost a trillion people waited with bated breath. Some fell into desperation, while others made their way to the starports, launching spaceships from mining corvettes to superheavy fighter carriers, in the case of PMCs. But alas, among the millions of ships, many were lost in the fight, with many more to follow, all the while the black ships of the Faith showed no signs of major damage. Not a single one. The Novahumans simply weren't prepared for large scale space combat against a normal ememy - in all their years, they only ever needed to combat the Subdimensionals, who fell to Void weaponry with ease, and while the very fires of creation raged against the black ships' hulls, they failed to penetrate. Thus, within the headquarters of Novahome's three largest megacorporations, three of the planet's most powerful people did things they wished they'd never have to do. The CEOs of Magnatron Mechanics, Neptune Solutions, and Akaso Industries collectively made their way to the deepest depths of their corporation's HQ, and spoke their piece of the key to a lock they all hoped would never have to be opened. "Thou who art the innocent rage." "The innocent fury." "The innocent sword." Three gigantic buildings on different sides of the planet shuddered with an unworldly energy as hidden Dimensional Couplers within their bowels spewed forth an unending stream of energy, undocumented shafts filled with prismatic crystal like blood within veins, and the three spoke once more, in perfect unison. "Become one with our souls, one with our bodies, and let us walk the path of destruction together." The image of three superstructures, each the size of an Old Earth city, leaving the atmosphere of Novahome with ease and grace left even those of The Faith perplexed. Their surprise became even greater when the three met in one spot above the planet. Metal flowed like water, geysers of the very forces of creation erupted from the merging of three titans into one. The resultant monstrosity shuddered and crackled with titanic arcs of golden lightning as part organic, part synthetic limbs emerged from the central mass accompanied by a skull-like head, the monstrosity decoupling a city's worth of material alone to reveal a matching torso. The remaining ships of Novahome's impromptu planetary defense force, as well as those of the Faith, received an overwhelming IFF signal the moment the giant humanoid finished forming. Novahome Defense Initiative First Regiment Absolute Decisive Supergigantic Humanoid Weapon for the Preservation of Humankind TRIUMVIRATE [The Day a Novahuman Cried] ”Triumvirate.” The gigantic machine ripples and shifts, even as it is still in the vacuum of space. Uncounted trillions of drones flow through and across its surface, repairing damage and improving its design even as the Triumvirate heads into battle. Gigatonnes of synthetic muscle and crystalline bone surge with untold energies, and the titan crosses its middle set of arms. ”I thought - I *hoped - that it would never see the light of day. That it would never have to be brought to bear.” As the Faith's holy ships draw nearer and nearer to Novahome, its now sole protector fires many thousands of dreadnought-class graviton thrusters embedded within its mostly mechanical legs and lower back. It shudders with the sudden surge of velocity, discharges of golden lightning dancing across Triumvirate's skinless musculature. ”I thought - hoped - that if it were, it would be against another Composite Titan, not the first nonhuman civilization we encounter.” The first wave approaches, and in rows, they all stop in their tracks. Triumvirate grabs hold of the Faith's flagship with its upper pair of arms, a miasma of pitch black ichor flooding across its golden surface. The fluid emerges from the creases in Triumvirate's musculature, flooding towards the flagship's weaponry and any other openings in its ull. Within minutes, the Faith's “worldkiller” cannon is plugged from the muzzle to the firing chamber, and the ship's interior is being flooded with hyperaggressive, perpetually evolving black goo. ”But all of that is in the past. The Triumvirate is assembled, and its auxiliary pilots are dead. Consumed by their thirst for power, they did not heed my warnings, or my pleas, and sought to become as I have become.” The destroyers and fighter esorts are merely swatted away with a few waves of the titan's lower arms, and those that get through are inexplicably struck by runaway arcs of golden lightning - vaporizing in a flash of golden light. ”It is our nature as the descendants of mankind that we pay for everything. Everything demands a sacrifice of some sort. Even I, the oh so mighty “Lord of Shards”, had to pay the toll. There is nobody back on Novahome waiting for the person behind this visage, only for the political and financial power my status brings.” Within the God-Machine, three Dimensional Couplers reside. Three gates into the infinity of the Void. Neither the first, the second, nor the third ever left Akaso Industries. In their pursuit of power, the first and third most powerful men on all of Novahome rerouted the output of the Dimensional Circuits sent to them as a part of the Novahome Defense Initiative by Akaso to flow through them before routing into the machine. ”I am almost fifty cycles of age, and I have conversed with people who remember making Landfall nearly two millennia ago. It irritated me when they treated me like little more than a child, but they were right.” The moment these men, these legends of industry, spoke the ancient words they had no understanding of, they had signed their death warrants. And now, all that remained was a veritable living nation unto itself, piloting the most destructive weapon in the history of mankind since her ancestors made landfall. ”I was hungry for power, just as the two crystallized corpses I have for copilots were. I thought myself larger than life. I suppose age does bring some wisdom, after all. Sitting in front of a veritable God, imprisoned and used for the betterment of mankind like some sort of artifact, and realizing that I had entire years just… Missing from my memory, how few actually memorable things I've done myself, something inside changed.” Triumvirate's torso rips open - its pectorals simply detaching to reveal millions upon millions of crimson, crystalline spikes, each the size of an ICBM missile. ”Should the weak and unfortunate come under oppression, I will lift even the sky itself to make this world a better place. If the weight of the sky becomes much to bear, I shall bring forth wider shoulders from the fires of creation that rage within me.” The first crystal is let loose, and thousands more follow. All six of Triumvirate's arms are shredded to bits as it holds the Faith's war flotilla at bay, both by their weapons and its own. ”And should the very stars in the sky seek to destroy our paradise… I'll cleave the heavens in twain.” In the end, all that is left is the remnants of a civilization, enslaved by the Old Ones and mobilized in its entirety into a crusade, and an armless, motionless machine-God, slowly drifting into Novahome's atmosphere and charring from re-entry. Upon the beaches of Novahome's dedicated nature preserve, a veritable nation unto itself lays. A being bearing the power to destroy cities with a word, a demonic creature with the power to destroy and create in equal measure. She stares into the sunset, and sheds tears of black ichor. [And At Last, I am Here] The Triumvirate has fulfilled its purpose, and now lays inert and shattered upon the beaches of Nova Eden - Novahome’s dedicated nature preserve. Its gigantic muscles charred and singed by the rigors of atmospheric re-entry, endoskeleton bent and broken, energy conduits burnt out to nothing. Its secondary cockpits, burst with volatile crystal, the primary abandoned by its pilot long ago. The veritable God-machine lays still, its sorry state a testament to a flaw so tantamount to the human condition, even millennia of self-modification did nothing to alleviate it. Mere minutes after Triumvirate begun its descent into Novahome’s atmosphere, thousands of opportunistic “Analysis and Retrieval” firms scrambled to analyze its flight path and determine where it will land, so that they may claim the wreckage before anyone else does. The vultures had an unflinching certainty of all its pilots being deceased, especially considering what it took to destroy the Faith’s invasion flotilla. According to all scientific knowledge pertaining to the Void, the sheer volume of Void energy the Triumvirate generated and solidified into stable crystal was impossible to survive. Even for one such as the Triumvirate’s main pilot, the load of creating 4,030,020 crystalline missiles would cause the aforementioned to, at best, turn to so much as shiny crystal sand. At least, according to available information. In reality, it took four cycles for the Triumvirate’s carcass to be finally discovered, and even then just because Akaso willingly shut down the machine’s signal scrambler systems. Indeed, despite its sorry state, the majority of supplementary systems were fully functional. The power source was still within conduitless power transfer range, after all. How did Akaso spend those four years, you wonder? So did the recovery crew when they finally arrived at the site. It was buzzing with life, but not of the organic kind. Constructs of stone, metal, even wood, all with a glowing crimson crystal within. In the epicenter of it all, Triumvirate - or what remained of it. The endoskeleton had been stripped clean of musculature, and its internal systems extensively modified into part living quarters, part what appeared to be a research and construction facility. As the recovery team approaches, Akaso's constructs freeze in place, before swarming the team and surrounding them. The horned Novahuman soon emerges from the depths of Triumvirate's corpse, jacketless. ”Took you long enough. Pack up and leave, this place is property of-” She sighs, looking at something just behind her. Akaso's voice shifts, losing its signature edge as she speaks again, almost emotional in tone. ”This is my home now.” Following the invasion of the Faith and the ensuing usage of the Absolute Decisive Supergiganti Humanoid Weapon for the Preservation of Mankind, otherwise known as Triumvirate, Akaso had come to a revelation. He would elect to remain at the landing site of what remained of the combined headquarters of the three largest megacorporations on Novahome, and build a fortress of his own design around it. Along his many constructs, Novahumans seek the elusive Triumvirate to gaze upon the sleeping god-machine and learn from the reclusive creator of modern body modification.

#half-demon #original-character #demon #space #sci-fi #transhumanism #mecha #mythos #bio #biography

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