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drcpanda12 · 2 years ago

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New Post has been published on https://www.knewtoday.net/the-rise-of-openai-advancing-artificial-intelligence-for-the-benefit-of-humanity/

The Rise of OpenAI: Advancing Artificial Intelligence for the Benefit of Humanity

OpenAI is a research organization that is focused on advancing artificial intelligence in a safe and beneficial manner. It was founded in 2015 by a group of technology luminaries, including Elon Musk, Sam Altman, Greg Brockman, and others, with the goal of creating AI that benefits humanity as a whole.

OpenAI conducts research in a wide range of areas related to AI, including natural language processing, computer vision, robotics, and more. It also develops cutting-edge AI technologies and tools, such as the GPT series of language models, which have been used in a variety of applications, from generating realistic text to aiding in scientific research.

In addition to its research and development work, OpenAI is also committed to promoting transparency and safety in AI. It has published numerous papers on AI ethics and governance and has advocated for responsible AI development practices within the industry and among policymakers.

Introduction to OpenAI: A Brief History and Overview

An American artificial intelligence (AI) research facility called OpenAI is made as a non-profit organization. OpenAI Limited Partnership is its for-profit sister company. The stated goal of OpenAI’s AI research is to advance and create a benevolent AI. Microsoft’s Azure supercomputing platform powers OpenAI systems.

Ilya Sutskever, Greg Brockman, Trevor Blackwell, Vicki Cheung, Andrej Karpathy, Durk Kingma, John Schulman, Pamela Vagata, and Wojciech Zaremba created OpenAI in 2015; the inaugural board of directors included Sam Altman and Elon Musk. Microsoft invested $1 billion in OpenAI LP in 2019 and another $10 billion in 2023.

Brockman compiled a list of the “top researchers in the field” after meeting Yoshua Bengio, one of the “founding fathers” of the deep learning movement. In December 2015, Brockman was able to bring on nine of them as his first workers. In 2016, OpenAI paid business compensation rather than nonprofit payments to its AI researchers, but not salaries that were on par with Facebook or Google.

Several researchers joined the company because of OpenAI’s potential and mission; one Google employee claimed he was willing to leave the company “partly because of the very strong group of people and, to a very big extent, because of its mission.” Brockman said that advancing humankind’s ability to create actual AI in a secure manner was “the best thing I could imagine doing.” Wojciech Zaremba, a co-founder of OpenAI, claimed that he rejected “borderline ridiculous” offers of two to three times his market value in order to join OpenAI.

A public beta of “OpenAI Gym,” a platform for reinforcement learning research, was made available by OpenAI in April 2016. “Universe,” a software platform for assessing and honing an AI’s general intelligence throughout the universe of games, websites, and other applications, was made available by OpenAI in December 2016.

OpenAI’s Research Areas: Natural Language Processing, Computer Vision, Robotics, and More

In 2021, OpenAI will concentrate its research on reinforcement learning (RL).

Gym

Gym, which was introduced in 2016, intends to offer a general-intelligence benchmark that is simple to deploy across a wide range of environments—similar to, but more extensive than, the ImageNet Large Scale Visual Recognition Challenge used in supervised learning research. In order to make published research more easily replicable, it aims to standardize how environments are characterized in publications on AI. The project asserts that it offers a user-friendly interface. The gym may only be used with Python as of June 2017. The Gym documentation site was no longer maintained as of September 2017, and its GitHub page was the site of ongoing activity.

RoboSumo

In the 2017 virtual reality game RoboSumo, humanoid meta-learning robot agents compete against one another with the aim of learning how to move and shoving the rival agent out of the arena. When an agent is taken out of this virtual environment and placed in a different virtual environment with strong gusts, the agent braces to stay upright, indicating it has learned how to balance in a generic fashion through this adversarial learning process. Igor Mordatch of OpenAI contends that agent competition can lead to an intelligence “arms race,” which can improve an agent’s capacity to perform, even outside of the confines of the competition.

Video game bots

In the competitive five-on-five video game Dota 2, a squad of five OpenAI-curated bots known as OpenAI Five is utilized. These bots are trained to compete against human players at a high level solely by trial-and-error techniques. The first public demonstration took place at The International 2017, the yearly premier championship event for the game, where Dendi, a professional Ukrainian player, lost to a bot in a real-time one-on-one matchup before becoming a team of five. Greg Brockman, CTO, revealed after the game that the bot had learned by competing against itself for two weeks in real-time, and that the learning software was a step toward developing software that could perform intricate jobs like a surgeon.

By June 2018, the bots had improved to the point where they could play as a full team of five, defeating teams of amateur and semi-professional players. OpenAI Five competed in two exhibition games at The International 2018 against top players, but they both lost. In a live demonstration game in San Francisco in April 2019, OpenAI Five upset OG, the current global champions of the game, 2:0.During that month, the bots made their last public appearance, winning 99.4% of the 42,729 games they participated in over a four-day open internet competition.

Dactyl

In 2018 Dactyl uses machine learning to teach a Shadow Hand, a robotic hand that resembles a human hand, how to manipulate actual objects. It uses the same RL algorithms and training code as OpenAI Five to learn totally in simulation. Domain randomization, a simulation method that exposes the learner to a variety of experiences rather than attempting to match them to reality, was used by OpenAI to address the object orientation problem. Dactyl’s setup includes RGB cameras in addition to motion tracking cameras so that the robot may control any object simply by looking at it. In 2018, OpenAI demonstrated that the program could control a cube and an octagonal prism.

2019 saw OpenAI present Dactyl’s ability to solve a Rubik’s Cube. 60% of the time, the robot was successful in resolving the puzzle. It is more difficult to model the complex physics introduced by items like Rubik’s Cube. This was resolved by OpenAI by increasing Dactyl’s resistance to disturbances; they did this by using a simulation method known as Automated Domain Randomization (ADR),

OpenAI’s GPT model

Alec Radford and his colleagues wrote the initial study on generative pre-training of a transformer-based language model, which was released as a preprint on OpenAI’s website on June 11, 2018. It demonstrated how pre-training on a heterogeneous corpus with lengthy stretches of continuous text allows a generative model of language to gain world knowledge and understand long-range dependencies.

A language model for unsupervised transformers, Generative Pre-trained Transformer 2 (or “GPT-2”) is the replacement for OpenAI’s first GPT model. The public initially only saw a few number of demonstrative copies of GPT-2 when it was first disclosed in February 2019. GPT-2’s complete release was delayed due to worries about potential abuse, including uses for creating fake news. Some analysts questioned whether GPT-2 posed a serious threat.

It was trained on the WebText corpus, which consists of little more than 8 million documents totaling 40 gigabytes of text from Links published in Reddit contributions that have received at least three upvotes. Adopting byte pair encoding eliminates some problems that can arise when encoding vocabulary with word tokens. This makes it possible to express any string of characters by encoding both single characters and tokens with multiple characters.

GPT-3

Benchmark results for GPT-3 were significantly better than for GPT-2. OpenAI issued a warning that such language model scaling up might be nearing or running into the basic capabilities limitations of predictive language models.

Many thousand petaflop/s-days of computing were needed for pre-training GPT-3 as opposed to tens of petaflop/s-days for the complete GPT-2 model. Similar to its predecessor, GPT-3’s fully trained model wasn’t immediately made available to the public due to the possibility of abuse, but OpenAI intended to do so following a two-month free private beta that started in June 2020. Access would then be made possible through a paid cloud API.

GPT-4

The release of the text- or image-accepting Generative Pre-trained Transformer 4 (GPT-4) was announced by OpenAI on March 14, 2023. In comparison to the preceding version, GPT-3.5, which scored in the bottom 10% of test takers,

OpenAI said that the revised technology passed a simulated law school bar exam with a score in the top 10% of test takers. GPT-4 is also capable of writing code in all of the major programming languages and reading, analyzing, or producing up to 25,000 words of text.

DALL-E and CLIP images

DALL-E, a Transformer prototype that was unveiled in 2021, generates visuals from textual descriptions. CLIP, which was also made public in 2021, produces a description for an image.

DALL-E interprets natural language inputs (such as an astronaut riding on a horse)) and produces comparable visuals using a 12-billion-parameter version of GPT-3. It can produce pictures of both actual and unreal items.

ChatGPT and ChatGPT Plus

An artificial intelligence product called ChatGPT, which was introduced in November 2022 and is based on GPT-3, has a conversational interface that enables users to ask queries in everyday language. The system then provides an answer in a matter of seconds. Five days after its debut, ChatGPT had one million members.

ChatGPT Plus is a $20/month subscription service that enables users early access to new features, faster response times, and access to ChatGPT during peak hours.

Ethics and Safety in AI: OpenAI’s Commitment to Responsible AI Development

As artificial intelligence (AI) continues to advance and become more integrated into our daily lives, concerns around its ethics and safety have become increasingly urgent. OpenAI, a research organization focused on advancing AI in a safe and beneficial manner, has made a commitment to responsible AI development that prioritizes transparency, accountability, and ethical considerations.

One of the ways that OpenAI has demonstrated its commitment to ethical AI development is through the publication of numerous papers on AI ethics and governance. These papers explore a range of topics, from the potential impact of AI on society to the ethical implications of developing powerful AI systems. By engaging in these discussions and contributing to the broader AI ethics community, OpenAI is helping to shape the conversation around responsible AI development.

Another way that OpenAI is promoting responsible AI development is through its focus on transparency. The organization has made a point of sharing its research findings, tools, and technologies with the wider AI community, making it easier for researchers and developers to build on OpenAI’s work and improve the overall quality of AI development.

In addition to promoting transparency, OpenAI is also committed to safety in AI. The organization recognizes the potential risks associated with developing powerful AI systems and has taken steps to mitigate these risks. For example, OpenAI has developed a framework for measuring AI safety, which includes factors like robustness, alignment, and transparency. By considering these factors throughout the development process, OpenAI is working to create AI systems that are both powerful and safe.

OpenAI has also taken steps to ensure that its own development practices are ethical and responsible. The organization has established an Ethics and Governance board, made up of external experts in AI ethics and policy, to provide guidance on OpenAI’s research and development activities. This board helps to ensure that OpenAI’s work is aligned with its broader ethical and societal goals.

Overall, OpenAI’s commitment to responsible AI development is an important step forward in the development of AI that benefits humanity as a whole. By prioritizing ethics and safety, and by engaging in open and transparent research practices, OpenAI is helping to shape the future of AI in a positive and responsible way.

Conclusion: OpenAI’s Role in Shaping the Future of AI

OpenAI’s commitment to advancing AI in a safe and beneficial manner is helping to shape the future of AI. The organization’s focus on ethical considerations, transparency, and safety in AI development is setting a positive example for the broader AI community.

OpenAI’s research and development work is also contributing to the development of cutting-edge AI technologies and tools. The GPT series of language models, developed by OpenAI, have been used in a variety of applications, from generating realistic text to aiding in scientific research. These advancements have the potential to revolutionize the way we work, communicate, and learn.

In addition, OpenAI’s collaborations with industry leaders and their impact on real-world applications demonstrate the potential of AI to make a positive difference in society. By developing AI systems that are safe, ethical, and transparent, OpenAI is helping to ensure that the benefits of AI are shared by all.

As AI continues to evolve and become more integrated into our daily lives, the importance of responsible AI development cannot be overstated. OpenAI’s commitment to ethical considerations, transparency, and safety is an important step forward in creating AI that benefits humanity as a whole. By continuing to lead the way in responsible AI development, OpenAI is helping to shape the future of AI in a positive and meaningful way.

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#Artificial intelligence #ChatGPT #ChatGPT Plus #Computer Vision #DALL-E #Elon Musk #Future of AI #Generative Pre-trained Transformer #GPT #Natural Language Processing #OpenAI #OpenAI&039;s GPT model #Robotics #Sam Altman #Video game bots

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twinkdrama · 2 years ago

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#tumblr shitpost #chatgpt #chat generative pre trained transformer #chat gpt #cmt #charcot marie tooth #twinkdrama

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enterprise-knowledge-advisor · 11 months ago

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Leveraging the Power of AI: How Celebal's EKA Can Revolutionize Enterprise Knowledge Management

In today's data-driven world, businesses are constantly accumulating information from various sources. This includes emails, documents, presentations, and more. Managing and effectively utilizing this vast knowledge base can be a significant challenge. Here's where Celebal Technologies' Enterprise Knowledge Advisor (EKA) comes in. EKA is a revolutionary information mining solution powered by OpenAI's Generative Pre-trained Transformer (GPT-3) technology, designed to empower businesses to unlock the true potential of their internal knowledge.

What is EKA and How Does it Work?

EKA is an AI-powered information retrieval system that goes beyond simple keyword searches. It leverages the capabilities of GPT-3, a cutting-edge AI language model, to understand the context and intent behind user queries. This allows EKA to deliver highly relevant and insightful results, even for complex or nuanced questions.

Here's a breakdown of how EKA works:

Deep Knowledge Ingestion: EKA seamlessly integrates with various enterprise data sources, ingesting and indexing a wide range of documents, emails, and other internal content.

Advanced Natural Language Processing (NLP): It utilizes NLP techniques to comprehend the meaning and relationships within the ingested data. This enables EKA to not only identify relevant documents but also understand the context and connections between them.

AI-powered Search and Retrieval: When a user submits a query, EKA employs its AI capabilities to analyze the query and user intent. It then retrieves the most pertinent information from the indexed knowledge base, considering not just keywords but also the context and relationships within the data.

Intelligent Information Delivery: It presents the retrieved information in a user-friendly and informative way. It can highlight key points, summarize findings, and even suggest related content that might be valuable to the user.

Benefits of Utilizing EKA for Enterprise Knowledge Management

GPT-3 OpenAI-powered EKA offers a multitude of advantages for businesses seeking to optimize their knowledge management practices. Here are some of the key benefits:

Enhanced Search Accuracy and Relevance: EKA's AI-powered search capabilities deliver highly relevant results that directly address user queries. This eliminates the need for users to sift through irrelevant information, saving them valuable time and effort.

Improved User Engagement: EKA's intuitive interface and intelligent information delivery make it easy for users to find the information they need. This can lead to increased user engagement with the knowledge base and a more informed workforce.

Boosted Productivity: By providing users with quick and easy access to the information they need, EKA can significantly improve employee productivity. Less time spent searching for information translates to more time dedicated to core tasks and strategic initiatives.

Knowledge Democratization: EKA empowers all employees, regardless of their technical expertise, to access and utilize the organization's knowledge base effectively. This fosters a culture of knowledge-sharing and collaboration.

Data-driven Decision-making: With EKA, businesses can leverage their internal knowledge to make more informed decisions. EKA's ability to surface relevant insights and connections within the data can provide valuable guidance for strategic planning and problem-solving.

A Real-World Example of EKA's Impact

According to Celebal Technologies, a major media conglomerate using EKA reported a significant increase of 25% in user engagement with their internal knowledge base. This demonstrates the effectiveness of EKA in making information more accessible and user-friendly, ultimately leading to a more informed and productive workforce.

The Future of Enterprise Knowledge Management with EKA

EKA represents a significant leap forward in the realm of enterprise knowledge management. As AI technology continues to evolve, we can expect EKA's capabilities to become even more sophisticated. Here are some potential future advancements:

Advanced Personalization: EKA could personalize search results and information delivery based on individual user preferences and past search behavior.

Integration with Cognitive Tools: EKA could integrate with other cognitive tools and applications, allowing for a more seamless flow of information and knowledge within the organization.

Enhanced Knowledge Graph Capabilities: EKA's ability to understand relationships and connections within data could be further refined, enabling more advanced knowledge graph functionalities.

Conclusion

Celebal Technologies’ Enterprise Knowledge Advisor represents a significant advancement in enterprise knowledge management. By leveraging the power of GPT-3 OpenAI and the Generative Pre-trained Transformer model, EKA offers a comprehensive information mining solution that enhances decision-making, improves efficiency, and provides a competitive advantage. Organizations across various industries can benefit from the transformative capabilities of EKA, unlocking the full potential of their data assets. As businesses continue to navigate an increasingly data-driven world, tools like EKA will be essential in driving innovation and success. To learn more about EKA, schedule a free consulting session with the experts at [email protected].

#enterprise knowledge advisor #eka #information mining solution #gpt3 openai #ai language model #Generative Pre-trained Transformer

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shaileshrathod · 1 year ago

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GPT-4 (Generative Pre-trained Transformer 4) નો ઉપયોગ

GPT-4 (Generative Pre-trained Transformer 4) નો ઉપયોગ અનેક ક્ષેત્રોમાં કરવામાં આવે છે અને તે બહુ ઉપયોગી સાબિત થાય છે. અહીં કેટલાક મુખ્ય ઉપયોગો જણાવ્યા છે:1. **લેખન અને સામગ્રી સર્જન**: લખાણની રચના, બ્લોગ પોસ્ટ્સ, લેખ, કવિતાઓ અને સ્ક્રિપ્ટ્સ જેવા મલ્ટિમીડિયા સામગ્રી બનાવવા માટે.2. **ગ્રાહક સેવા**: ચેટબોટ્સ અને વર્ચ્યુઅલ અસિસ્ટન્ટ્સ તરીકે ગ્રાહકોને ત्वरિત અને અસરકારક જવાબો આપવા માટે.3. **અનુસંધાન…

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#શૈલેષ રાઠોડ ai #gpt #GPT-4 (Generative Pre-trained Transformer 4) નો ઉપયોગ #gpt4o #shaileshrathod

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twinkdrama · 2 years ago

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new religion just dropped

#chat generative pre trained transformer #chat gpt #chatgpt #ai meme #queer #twinkdrama

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uplymedia · 2 years ago

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Boost Your Business Edge with GPTs

A Deep Dive into the World of Customized GPTs FeatureStandard GPTsCustom GPTsKnowledge BaseBroad and generalSpecialized and focusedRelevanceGeneral-purposeHighly contextualApplicationsWide-rangingIndustry-specificCustom GPT Types Hello, dear reader! Today, We are thrilled to guide you through the fascinating world of Custom Generative Pre-trained Transformers, commonly known as Custom GPTs.…

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#AI Customization #AI Technology #Custom GPTs #Generative Pre-trained Transformers

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startheskelaton · 3 months ago

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Do you have a timelime for your sparkplug au?

Yes and It's LONG. This isn't even all of it but it's what I have written out at least

Timeline: important plot points

Pre war

Orion pax and D-16 are born

Both experience the loss of parental guardian

D-16 is taken to the pit

Orion pax breaks into the pit, he and Dee start the foundations of the Decepticon cause

Revolution starts to take shape on Cybertron

Orion is killed in an attempt to stop D from falling down the slippery slope of a rage filled warmonger

Orion is brought back as Optimus prime

OG Ultra Magnus makes him a general in the Autobot ranks

During war

War goes on for like…. Long ass time

Autobots land on earth

Main decepticons fallow suit and step up shop due to amount of resources

Governments make deals with different factions in place of protection and access to weapon technology

Eventually Megatron has a “oh fuck” moment when he invades an illegal mining operation in central Africa. It puts into perspective how far he has fallen, seeing his commanders make deals with those who profited off the mines, just like those in power back on cybertron.

Midlife crisis, Megatron leaves the Decepticon cause, he takes Soundwave with him. Declares he will do whatever he needs in order to free those enslaved on this planet

Megatron joins the Autobots, this cases Prowl to leave and switch sides

Battles pick up heat as both sides are desperate

Millionaires and those in places of high power use Cybertronian technology to flee earth and live in space as earth is being destroyed

Starscream kills Optimus Prime in an attempt to kill Megatron. Both sides retreat as a result

Optimus splits the matrix and gives it to Hotrod and bumblebee,

Rodimus prime and Vespa Prime are born

Optimus Prime’s spark is put in a reformation chamber with parts of Megatron in an attempt to bring him back

Treaties are made and the decepticons take Cybertron as the Autobots stay on earth

Post war

Decepticons start rebuilding Cybertroinian society

Shockwave finishes creating a replacement for Soundwave

Soundblaster is born

The first sparkling born on Cybertron in millenia emerges

Nightflyer is born

Due to the splitting of the matrix of leadership, dormant energon on earth awakens and allows for new sparklings to emerge

The attempt the revive Optimus prime’s spark fails

Sparkplug is born

A new era

Earth

The Autobots have made it their mission to help reform the planet and help the humans rebuild

Rodimus prime leaves earth in a hope to find some kind of explanation for why he feels like everything is in the shitter

Subsections of colonies start to pop up, some keep to themselves, others work directly with the autobots, some hate transformers entirely

Railroads are made more efficient in order to transport supplies across countries

Earth starts to heal with the help of the matrix, forests grow and temperatures fall to a normal level

Major cities act as sanctuaries for the human population, help from other alien races arrives as well, helping earth to become a space traveling hub

Cybertron

The Decepticons no longer go by that name, no longer wanting to be associated with the past. They go by Workers of Prime

Shockwave has put together a complicated and purposeful chain of command and leadership that he sits at the top of. However Starscream is the “king” of Cybertron, while being a puppet

Prowl takes care of enforcing laws and regulations to the planet. Along with trying to unite the cities with one another

Cybertron now has a entertainment industry, focused on promoting good morals to the population along with keeping bots distracted

Cybertron only communicate with it’s colony planets, trying to form a stronger relationship between all transformers

“Peace times” (start of the story)

Sparkplug is currently working as the assistant of Ratchet under the blessing of Megatron and Elita one

Sparkplug trains in her free time to be a scout and will sneak off every once and a while to play basement concerts

On Cybertron, Nightflyer is top of his class while training to be a high guard soldier. He is chosen by Shockwave to go on a mission to earth and infiltrate the Autobots

Cybertron is in desperate need of resources

Nightflyer lands on earth and pretends to be a Decepticon defector, Sparkplug is wary of him

Nightflyer manages to become an Autobot and meets Sparkplug during the scout tryouts

Reluctantly Sparkplug is passed but gets put on the Energon transportation and quality control team, she’s fine with this as she just wanted to see the world

Nightflyer gets put on a mission team, meeting Landlot, Defender and other bots his age.

During this time we get our first mentions of a cult ran by a former Decepticon that’s turning humans into purple energon

Both Spark and Night explore earth and meet new and old bots.

Example: Sparkplug gets to know earth born transformers, Nightflyer gets to meet bots like Skyfire

Back at the base, Sparkplug gets annoyed with how much fanfare Nightflyer is getting, while she still gets treated like a sparkling

She breaks Night’s social mask and gets to know the real him. A romance between the two starts to form

Shockwave informs Nightflyer that they’re sending a team to take over the main Autobot base

Shockwave employs the DJD to help in the Autobot attack

Return to war

Sparkplug confesses to Nightflyer, Nightflyer returns the feeling as he does like her.

Right before the invasion he tries to convince her that living on Cybertron wouldn’t be so bad. Sparkplug refutes that she likes Earth and that Cybertron would probably hate her.

The DJD and a group of seakers make their way to Earth and start fucking shit up

Big dramatic reveal to the characters that Nightflyer was a spy all along and is Starscream’s ward

Things are going in the bad guy’s favor until Tarn realizes Sparkplug is part Megatron.

He orders his men to capture her and kill everyone else, as they have a new leader of the Decepticon cause

The battle becomes even more messy as sides are switched and the Autobots and seekers are now fighting to survive

While attempting to help Megatron fight off Tarn, Sparkplug is grabbed by Soundblaster, who hopes to bring her back to Shockwave in order to get in his favor.

Space distortion happens when Skywarp tries to help get Soundblaster out of there and accidentally sends him and Sparkplug halfway across the universe.

This cases the DJD to leave as they are now looking for Sparkplug, and the seekers(after getting beaten by the DJD) are taken prisoner for now

Depression but in space

Sparkplug and Soundblaster are in the middle of nowhere on a deserted planet. After trying to restrain one another, they realize they need to help each other if they wanna survive this mess

Back on earth, Rodimus comes back from space due to getting a SOS message, he is yelled at by his family

Acidstorm, Slipstream and Airachnid are absolutely furious about being stuck on earth for the time being. Nightflyer is currently being used as a verbal punching bag for the Autobots

Back in Space, Sparkplug and Soundblaster start to develop a chemistry as they learn more about each other.

Rodiums takes it upon himself to get Sparkplug back as a way to make up for leaving everyone years ago. This is a big reference to “the lost light”, characters like megatron, rodimus, swerve and others join, along with some OC’s like Nanabah (native american sharpshooter) who forms a friendship with Preceptor, and Lobo (the lowrider transformer born on earth)

Rodimus takes nightflyer under his wing in an attempt to reform him

In space, Spark and Soundblaster start to feel romantic feelings for one another. However this is interrupted by them getting found by the DJD.

Soundwave takes it upon himself to split off from Rodimus group as he might be able to locate her better through his mind powers (I don’t know, it's all space magic man)

Sparkplug properly meets Tarn and is quickly given a new frame and alt mode against her will.

Soundwave finds the DJD with Spark on it and sneaks on, However he is caught, and even if he fights well, he can’t fight off all of them.

Tarn forces Sparkplug to finally give into her anger when he kills Soundwave in front of her and lets her kill him.

Spark takes on the name “Megatron” and is then forced to eat Tarn’s spark in an act of dominance. She is now the leader of the DJD

There will be more to come!!! this is not all of it

Part two

#transformers #oc #ask box #asks #ask #ask blog #one spark au #transformers au #time line

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imsobadatnicknames2 · 5 months ago

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You once said you mostly like playing Dwarf Fortress in adventure mode nowadays, right? Any adventure mode tips you can give for a total noob?

Okay I'm not any kind of expert by any means, but...

For combat, there are weapon skills (e.g. Crossbowman, Swordsman, Hammerman, Bowman) which determine how good you are at using a specific weapon, but there are also two I like to call "parent skills": Fighter, which determines how good you are at using melee weapons in general, and Archer, which determines how good you are at using ranged weapons in general (as well as attacking with thrown objects). Attacking with a sword uses (and trains) both your Fighter and Swordsman skills. For character creation I think it's better to put points into Fighter and/or Archer, and train in the use of specific weapons during play. That way, if you ever need to switch to a different weapon from the specific one you're trained in you'll still be able to use it competently.

Always put one point into the Reader skill, otherwise your character will be illiterate. Since the only way to train skills in game is by using them, there is no in-game way to ever learn to read if you start with an illiterate character.

There is currently no implemented in-game way to fulfill the needs to be with family, be with friends, or make romance in adventure mode, so you should avoid creating a character with a personality and set of values that gives them these needs, otherwise they will inevitably become distracted from being unable to fulfill them. Also, the need to eat a good meal is technically possible but extremely hard to fulfill (since it requires either eating an extremely valuable meal, or a meal made with one of your character's randomly selected preferred ingredients) so you should probably avoid it too.

For purposes of trading, carrying small high-value items such as gems or high-quality crafts is a lot more useful than carrying coins around, since coins don't have any monetary value outside of the civilization that minted them, so you can only use certain coins for trade in certain sites.

However, with a high Thrower (or Archer) skill, coins make for a surprisingly decent and easily replenishable thrown weapon.

In certain climates, the water in your waterskin may freeze at night, or even stay frozen all the time. This took me a while to figure out back in the day, but: If you need to drink but your water is frozen, you'll need to interact with an adjacent empty space to make a campfire there, and then interact with the campfire and select the ice to heat it (or, in pre-steam versions, press g and then choose the option to make a campfire, and then while standing next to it press I to open advanced interactions with your inventory and then select the ice and choose the option to heat it)

If you find it annoying to constantly have to find food and water, play as a goblin, since goblins don't need to eat or drink.

I haven't tested if it works the same way in the post-steam versions, but in iirc performing anything at a tavern and then talking to the tavern keeper about your performance would get them to give you a discount on your room and drinks, regardless of the actual quality of the performance. I don't think this has been changed, but still.

Offloading a site by moving in travel mode will instantly heal you of all temporary damage, such as wounds, broken bones, bleeding, etc. If you're bleeding out during combat you can avoid dying by running away from your enemies until you're far away enough to initiate travel mode and then moving in any direction.

The only way to heal permanent damage such as lost body parts or severed nerves is to become a werebeast, since your body will be completely restored every time you transform. You can become a werebeast by getting bitten by one and surviving (the bite has to tear at least one tissue layer or it won't pass on the curse), or by getting cursed either by toppling a statue at a temple dedicated to a deity you worship, or by rolling one of the divination dice found at shrines three times (although when you get cursed it's randomized if you become either a vampire or a werebeast). However, being a werebeast will make you vulnerable against a random metal, and transforming will unequip and drop all your worn items (including backpacks and pouches) unless the size of your werebeast form is relatively similar to your normal size (plus destroy all non-leather clothing you're wearing regardless of size change)

If you don't start with a high Armor User skill, wearing a full set of armor can actually be more harm than good, since a low Armor User skill makes you more susceptible to the armor's encumbrance penalty, and makes you tire more easily while wearing armor, making it harder to dodge attacks and get attacks in.

However, any leather clothing counts as armor for the purposes of training, and doesn't have encumbrance penalties. So if you don't have a high armor user skill you should equip yourself with maybe a metal helmet, gauntlets, and or/boots, and then put on as much leather clothing as you can, so you can avoid the penalties while you train the skill to the point that you can wear a full set of metal armor.

#dwarf fortress #df

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just-a-little-cellist · 9 months ago

Note

Can I request Commander Wolffe x reader, who's a Jedi knight and Plo Koon's former padawan? Reader is from an alien race that can turn into a giant wolf and shares a gentle nature toward the clones like their master. Reader is also an absolute fighting unit and tall (Like a gentle giant) Bonus if reader uses their enhanced sense of smell to locate things and finds Wolffe's scent most pleasant. What if reader uses their wolf form to warm up Wolffe and his brothers when they get trapped in some snow planet? (You can put fem! reader if gender has to be specific. )

(omg this is such a cute idea! also this is my first ever Star Wars piece with one of my favourite copy paste men?? so excited <33 this is also sort of a pre-relationship build up thing, so if you'd like me to do a follow up I'd be more than happy to! hope you enjoy!)

(Wolffe x gender neutral reader (can be read as platonic) - warning for brief mentions of fighting, no detail though)

His general is the one to introduce the two of you, Master Plo stating that his former padawan would be 'shadowing' until they were assigned their own battalion.

Wolffe had an immediate respect for you - your sweet smile and offer of a handshake were somewhat unusual, since many of the higher ups chose to keep their distance from the clones where they could help it, but you seemed genuine, so he returned the handshake and nodded politely.

Your introduction alone made it very clear that you had trained under Master Plo. Your temperament was very similar, with the same aura of patience, kindness and wisdom that the general had.

You also seemed eager to get to know the soldiers you were serving with, making sure to remember all of their names and asking questions about them.

The Wolfpack responded well to you, Wolffe had to admit. While he was somewhat hesitant having a new face around, it was good to see his men's morale so high.

They all seemed to trust you and your abilities. While he knew not to underestimate you, especially given your towering height, he would not be convinced completely until he saw you fight.

The first callout to battle had you buzzing with anticipation, and Wolffe watched you warily as you whispered something to the general, to which he shook his head in response.

There was no time to wonder though, as your ship soon touched down and you were thrust onto the battlefield not long after.

You didn't remember the name of the planet, but it was layered in snow, and the glow of blaster bolts and lightsabers was all that guided you in the blizzard you had landed in.

Everything was moving so quickly, and you did your best to put yourself between your men and the enemy fire wherever you could, but it soon became clear that they would overwhelm you in this weather. The more men you saw fall to the ground, the more your hope fell.

You couldn't see well enough in this form. You knew that, the general knew that. Plo Koon had told you not to shift unless it was a last resort, you had asked on the way there - though with the enemy fire now surrounding you, surely this counted?

A quick nod from him confirmed your thinking and, while your former master gave Wolffe the most warning he could, you shifted into wolf form.

It was relieving, to suddenly have your senses be so sharp when you could barely tell where you were stood seconds earlier, and you were easily able to tell where the enemy horde stood. There were stragglers in other directions, but they were soon picked off by the clones.

Your attackers were clearly startled by your transformation (reasonable enough), but their moment's hesitation was enough to allow you to spring forward and send the majority scattering with a sweep of one enormous paw. You felt your claws tear through some, and the ones left intact were swiftly finished off with your teeth. Any that were smart enough to run didn't make it far either.

The sounds of blaster fire ceased once your swift massacre had ended, and you slowly padded across the snow, lifting your nose to the air to find the only ones left were your men.

Far fewer of your men than you would've liked.

Plo Koon watched with mirth in his eyes as you approached the clones, their expressions fixed in awe, aside from Wolffe, who seemed uncharacteristically nervous.

You supposed you couldn't blame him. But still, to will him to trust you, you lay down in front of him, blood-stained muzzle pressed into the snow at his feet while he stared, perplexed, down at you.

"They are still aware in this form, Commander. You need not worry."

The comforting words from the general seemed to placate Wolffe momentarily, then he turned to you.

"We must find shelter quickly. We'll never make it back to the ship with so many injured."

You dipped your head in understanding, and gestured south. It seemed like a smudge on the horizon to the others, but you could make out the silhouettes and smell the scent of the forest enough to know it was your best option.

Not having a better choice, they agreed to follow you, and those still standing began helping up the injured clones. Seeing this, you huffed and nodded at your back.

Plo nodded in understanding. "They will carry the injured. We can move faster that way."

Wolffe, still watching you warily, started helping the others climb onto your back, not willing to waste time even in his distrust. He could ask questions later, but the general trusted you, so he could too.

Moving in this form was certainly faster, and it was not long before you were amidst a cluster of trees and helping down the clones on your back. It wasn't perfect, but you were more shielded from the blizzard.

Wolffe and the general were at the back of the pack, ensuring you weren't followed. They didn't seem confident in the condition of the men, and you tilted your head in question.

The commander looked up at you, seemingly frustrated. "We have no supplies. We'll freeze if we stay here."

You huffed in reply and padded over behind the cluster of injured clones, laying down and using your nose to nudge them closer to your fur. Some of them nestled closer to your warmth on instinct, and you looked back at Wolffe expectantly.

"You can't be serious..."

Comet in particular seemed to be happy with this arrangement though, and quickly dove into your mountain of fur beside his brothers.

Plo patted Wolffe on the shoulder and urged him to sit, humming in amusement at the look on his face as you draped your tail over the small group of clones.

You were... useful. Wolffe couldn't deny that. Useful and very, very warm.

As he drifted to sleep far faster than usual, he thought maybe he could get used to this...

#star wars #star wars x reader #star wars x you #wolffe x reader #commander wolffe #commander wolffe x reader #clone wars x reader #clones x reader #clone troopers x reader #clone trooper x reader

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x-dark-whimsy-x · 9 days ago

Text

The Sundered Soul, Chapter 1

Prompt credit for this fic goes to @theroundbartable. I found it on @merlinficprompts. https://theroundbartable.tumblr.com/post/723312849564418048/camelot-is-being-attacked-by-a-sorcerer-somehow

I hope it does this prompt justice!

Twelve chapters are currently written, and now I'm proofreading them one by one. This first chapter is as good as I'm going to get it without a beta. (Any volunteers?) :D Also I will be cross-posting to ao3.

Enjoy!

Edit: I'm an idiot who didn't know how to add Keep Reading. Fixed, I hope.

The Sundered Soul Chapter 1: What Remains

The throne room of Camelot stood empty in the pre-dawn darkness, save for the guards at their posts and one restless prince. Arthur Pendragon sat on the steps below the throne—never on it, not yet—and watched the first pale fingers of light creep through the high windows. The great seat loomed above him, carved stone that had borne the weight of kings for generations. Soon, perhaps sooner than anyone suspected, it would bear his.

He could still see his father's vacant stare from the evening before, the way Uther had looked through him as though he were a stranger. The physicians spoke in hushed tones about shock and grief, about time needed to heal. They didn't speak the truth that Arthur saw in their eyes: the king's mind had shattered like glass when Morgana's betrayal was revealed, and all the healers in Camelot couldn't piece it back together.

King Regent. The title sat uneasily on his shoulders, heavier than any armor he'd ever worn. In all but name, he ruled Camelot now. The thought should have filled him with pride—wasn't this what he'd been trained for his entire life? Instead, he felt only the crushing weight of every decision, every life that hung in the balance of his choices.

"You're brooding again."

Arthur didn't startle—he'd learned years ago to recognize the particular quality of silence that meant Merlin was approaching. His manservant had an uncanny ability to move through the castle like a shadow when he chose, though he was just as likely to crash into suits of armor when distracted.

"I'm thinking," Arthur corrected without turning. "Kings must think."

"King Regents," Merlin corrected gently, coming to stand beside him. "And I've seen you think. This is definitely brooding."

Arthur finally looked up at his servant, ready with a sharp retort, but the words died on his tongue. The morning light streaming through the windows had caught in Merlin's dark hair, turning it to burnished gold at the edges. His eyes—had they always been that particular shade of blue? Like the deep waters of the lake beyond the citadel, holding depths that seemed to go on forever.

Arthur's chest tightened inexplicably. He forced his gaze away, focusing on the middle distance.

"The council meets within the hour," he said, his voice rougher than intended. "Have you—"

"Prepared your papers, polished your ceremonial sword, and ensured the kitchen knows you'll need breakfast after because you never eat before important meetings? Yes, Sire." There was gentle mockery in the title, a warmth that transformed what should have been proper address into something almost like endearment.

Arthur found himself fighting a smile. "I don't know why I keep you around."

"Because no one else would put up with your royal pratness," Merlin replied promptly. "Also, I'm the only one who remembers that you prefer your wine watered at formal dinners so you can keep a clear head."

It was true, and the fact that Merlin had noticed—had been watching him closely enough to discern such preferences without being told—sent another uncomfortable flutter through Arthur's chest. He stood abruptly, needing distance.

"The council will want to discuss the raids on the border villages," he said, striding toward the doors. Merlin fell into step beside him, as natural as breathing. "Leon returned last night with disturbing reports."

"Magic?" Merlin's voice carried an odd note, something Arthur couldn't quite identify.

"When isn't it?" Arthur sighed. "Sometimes I think every hedge wizard and sorceress in the five kingdoms has decided to test Camelot's defenses now that—" He cut himself off.

"Now that the king is indisposed," Merlin finished quietly.

They walked in silence for a moment, their footsteps echoing through the empty corridors. The castle was beginning to wake around them—servants scurrying past with lowered eyes, guards changing shifts with muted clanks of armor.

"You're a good king, Arthur," Merlin said suddenly. "Regent or otherwise."

Arthur glanced at him, startled by the conviction in his voice. Merlin wasn't looking at him, his gaze fixed ahead, but there was something in his expression—a fierce pride that made Arthur's breath catch.

"Merlin—"

"The kingdom sees it. The knights see it. Your father—" Merlin paused, choosing his words carefully. "Your father prepared you for this, even if he didn't intend it to come so soon. You're ready."

They'd reached the council chambers. Arthur could hear voices within, the low rumble of conversation as Camelot's advisors gathered. He should go in, take his place, be the leader they needed. Instead, he found himself lingering, studying Merlin's profile in the torchlight.

There were shadows under his servant's eyes, a tension in the line of his shoulders that spoke of burdens carried. When had Merlin begun to look tired? When had the boyish enthusiasm that had so irritated Arthur in their early days together given way to this quiet strength?

"Sire?" Merlin prompted gently. "The council?"

Arthur squared his shoulders, becoming the prince—the king regent—Camelot needed. "Have my breakfast waiting when I'm done. And Merlin?"

"Yes?"

Arthur hesitated just a moment too long, stifling the open gratitude he wanted to express. Too many watching eyes and listening ears that would pounce on something so un-kingly as thanking a servant, and use it against him. Or worse, use it against Merlin.

"Don’t wander off,” he said instead. “I’ll need you afterward to remind me which advisor is Lord Havelock and which one is Lord Harrow, because I still can’t tell those two wrinkled old buzzards apart."

Merlin blinked, then grinned. "Havelock’s the one with the beard that looks like a distressed squirrel."

Arthur gave a soft huff that might have been a laugh. "Distressed squirrel. Right. That’ll help."

He stepped toward the chamber doors, then paused again, voice quieter.

"And... don’t let the kitchen burn the toast. You always get it right."

Merlin’s brows lifted slightly, but he said only, “Wouldn’t dream of letting your royal highness suffer subpar toast.”

Arthur nodded, then pushed through the doors before he could do something foolish, like reach out to smooth the worry lines from Merlin's brow or ask him to attend the council meeting just so he could have that steady presence beside him.

The councilors rose as he entered, a sea of bowing heads and murmured "Your Highness"es. Sir Leon stood near the great map of the kingdom, his expression grave. Geoffrey of Monmouth clutched his ever-present scrolls, while Lord Cynric and the other nobles arranged themselves according to rank and precedence.

"Gentlemen," Arthur said, taking his place at the head of the table. Not his father's seat—he couldn't bring himself to claim that yet—but close enough. "Sir Leon, your report?"

Leon stepped forward, indicating several points on the map. "The attacks have increased in frequency and boldness, Sire. Three villages in the past fortnight, all along the northern border. The survivors speak of a sorcerer who commands the very trees to attack, who can call lightning from clear skies."

"Druids?" Lord Cynric suggested, his voice dripping with familiar disdain.

"No," Leon said firmly. "The Druids seek only peace. This is something else—someone else. The attacks seem random, but there's a pattern. Each village had recently sent men to serve in Camelot's army."

Arthur studied the map, his mind already working through possibilities. "He's trying to weaken our defenses, make us pull back our patrols to protect the villages."

"Or testing our responses," Geoffrey added quietly. "Seeing how quickly we can mobilize, how we deploy our forces."

"Then we give him nothing to study," Arthur decided. "Double the patrols but vary their routes. I want word sent to all border villages—any sign of magic, any strangers asking questions, and they're to send word immediately." He looked at Leon. "Take Gwaine and Percival, scout the area where the attacks occurred. Look for patterns we might have missed."

"Yes, Sire."

The meeting continued, flowing from border defenses to grain stores to the ever-present challenge of maintaining order with the king's... condition. Arthur found his attention wandering, his gaze drifting to the door where he knew Merlin waited.

It was foolish, this hyperawareness of his servant. Dangerous, even. But lately, Arthur couldn't seem to help himself. He noticed things—the way Merlin's hands moved when he was nervous, quick and fluttering like birds. The particular tilt of his head when he was listening intently. The way he bit his lower lip when concentrating on a task.

"Sire?"

Arthur jerked back to attention, finding the entire council staring at him expectantly. Heat crept up his neck.

"I apologize, Lord Cynric. You were saying?"

"I was inquiring about the feast for the Feast of Beltane, Sire. With His Majesty unable to preside..."

"The feast will continue as planned," Arthur said firmly. "The people need to see that Camelot remains strong, that their lives continue uninterrupted. We cannot afford to show weakness."

The meeting dragged on for another hour, each issue blending into the next until Arthur felt his patience fraying. When Geoffrey finally suggested they adjourn, Arthur barely managed a dignified exit before escaping into the corridor.

Merlin was there, of course, falling into step beside him without a word. They walked in comfortable silence back to Arthur's chambers, where a simple breakfast waited on the table by the window.

"How did it go?" Merlin asked, busy himself with pouring wine—watered, Arthur noted with a fond exasperation he didn't examine too closely.

"Lord Cynric is convinced that every ill that befalls Camelot is the result of magic," Arthur said, sinking into his chair. "Lord Bayard thinks we should increase taxes to fund more soldiers. And Geoffrey wants to consult prophecies and portents before making any decisions."

"So, the usual then." Merlin set a plate before him, the gesture so familiar, so domestic, that Arthur had to look away.

"The usual," he agreed, attacking his breakfast with more force than necessary.

Merlin moved about the room, tidying things that didn't need tidying, adjusting items that were already perfectly placed. It was a nervous habit, one that emerged when he had something on his mind.

"Out with it," Arthur said finally.

Merlin froze mid-reach for a candlestick. "What?"

"Whatever it is you're not saying. You're rearranging my chambers like you're preparing for a siege."

A flush crept up Merlin's neck. "It's nothing, Sire. I just... I worry. About the raids, about you taking on too much. You haven't been sleeping well."

Arthur set down his knife carefully. "And how would you know that, Merlin?"

The flush deepened. "I... that is, when I bring your breakfast, sometimes you're already awake. And there are circles under your eyes. And you've been..." He gestured vaguely.

"I've been what?"

"Distant," Merlin said quietly. "Like you're carrying the weight of the world and won't let anyone help bear it."

The words hit too close to home. Arthur stood abruptly, moving to the window to put space between them. Below, the courtyard was filling with people going about their daily lives, blissfully unaware of the threats gathering at their borders.

"That's what kings do," he said to the glass. "They carry the weight so others don't have to."

"You're not alone, Arthur." Merlin's voice was closer now, though Arthur didn't turn to look. "You have the knights, the council. You have—" A pause, heavy with things unsaid. "You have people who would stand beside you, if you'd let them."

Arthur's hands clenched on the window ledge. He could feel Merlin's presence behind him, warm and steady and impossible to ignore. If he turned now, what would he see in those impossibly blue eyes? What might he do?

"I should attend training," he said instead, his voice carefully neutral. "The knights will be waiting."

"Of course, Sire." Was that disappointment in Merlin's tone? "I'll prepare your armor."

They fell back into routine, the familiar dance of servant and master that had defined their relationship for years. But as Merlin helped him into his mail, his fingers brushing against Arthur's neck as he adjusted the collar, Arthur found himself holding his breath.

"There," Merlin said softly, stepping back. "Perfect."

Arthur met his eyes, saw something there that made his heart race. Then Merlin was turning away, busying himself with gathering laundry, and the moment passed.

The training ground was already crowded when Arthur arrived. His knights—his knights, the ones who'd chosen to follow him rather than simply obey the crown—were warming up. Gwaine was regaling Percival with what was undoubtedly an exaggerated tale of his latest tavern conquest. Elyan and Leon were discussing sword techniques while Lancelot stretched in preparation for the bout.

And there, sitting on a barrel at the edge of the field, was Gwen. She caught his eye and smiled, warm and knowing in a way that made Arthur want to fidget like a squire caught in mischief.

"About time you showed up, Princess," Gwaine called out. "We were starting to think you'd gotten lost in your own castle."

"The only thing lost around here is your sense of propriety," Arthur shot back, but there was no heat in it. These men had proven themselves time and again. They'd earned the right to informality.

"Propriety's overrated," Gwaine grinned. "Ask Merlin—he's been dealing with your royal pratness for years without any."

Arthur's jaw tightened. "Merlin is—"

"Standing right there," Lancelot interrupted quietly, nodding toward the colonnade.

Arthur turned, found Merlin lurking in the shadows of the arches, a basket of laundry forgotten in his hands as he watched the knights prepare. When he realized he'd been spotted, color flooded his cheeks.

"I was just—the laundry—I'll go," he stammered, backing away.

"Stay," Arthur heard himself say. Then, when everyone turned to stare at him, he cleared his throat. "That is, someone should be on hand in case of injuries. You know how Gwaine is with a sword."

"Oi!" Gwaine protested, but he was grinning.

Merlin hesitated, then set down his basket and moved to sit beside Gwen. They put their heads together immediately, whispering about something that made Gwen giggle and Merlin duck his head.

Arthur forced his attention back to his knights, drawing his sword. "Right then. Let's see if any of you have been practicing."

The training session was brutal, Arthur pushing himself and his men harder than usual. He needed the distraction, the simple clarity of combat where the only things that mattered were blade and balance and breathing. But even in the midst of a complex drill with Leon, he found his awareness drifting to the edge of the field.

Merlin had produced a small kit of medical supplies from somewhere and was tending to Elyan's scraped knuckles with gentle efficiency. The young knight was saying something that made Merlin laugh, the sound bright and clear across the yard, and Arthur's concentration shattered completely.

Leon's blade slipped past his guard, stopping just short of his ribs.

"Point," Leon said mildly, but his eyes were knowing.

Arthur reset his stance, irritated with himself. "Again."

They went three more rounds, Arthur winning two through sheer stubborn determination, before Gwaine called out a challenge.

"How about we make this interesting? Team sparring—me, Percival, and Elyan against you, Leon, and Lancelot."

"Hardly seems fair," Arthur said. "You'll need at least two more to make it a challenge."

Gwaine's grin was wicked. "Cocky bastard. You're on."

The melee that followed was chaos of the best kind. Six of Camelot's finest warriors moving in deadly synchronization, testing each other's limits. Arthur found his rhythm, Leon on his left and Lancelot on his right, the three of them moving as one unit against Gwaine's more chaotic approach.

Sparring brought order.

Strike, pivot, react. In those moments, the weight of Camelot slipped from his shoulders. No politics, no council, no shadows of his father’s judgment. Just motion, timing, and breath.

Arthur called the rotation. “Circle left!”

Lancelot flanked smoothly. Leon followed. Across the yard, Gwaine, Percival, and Elyan mirrored the shift. Gwaine, true to form, added an unnecessary flourish to his step, as if auditioning for a crowd.

From the bench near the edge of the yard, Arthur caught Gwen’s laughter. Merlin must have said something — probably at his expense. Arthur didn’t mind. Not when things felt, for once, almost normal.

A glint of movement caught his eye: Percival lifting the two-handed training axe, more suited to strength drills than finesse. Arthur made a mental note to question that later, but now—momentum.

He angled toward Gwaine, who was weaving wide in an attempt to bait Leon. Arthur recognized the tactic, cut inside, and drove toward him fast.

Gwaine blinked. “Oh, now you’re trying?”

Arthur ducked beneath Gwaine’s swing and stepped into his guard, catching his elbow and turning his weight. Gwaine tried to counter—too slow.

Arthur released his sword deliberately, letting it drop to the dirt, and used both hands to drive Gwaine backward with a controlled shoulder slam.

Gwaine grunted as he went down hard.

Arthur straightened, breathing fast, ready to retrieve his blade—

And that’s when it happened.

Gwaine’s boot, flailing for balance, caught a length of rusted training chain half-buried in the dirt.

His leg shot out from under him.

His elbow slammed into Percival’s side.

There was a startled shout—Percival’s grip twisted mid-swing—and the axe flew, end-over-end, loosed in a wild arc that glittered in the sun.

Arthur turned just in time to see it coming.

The weapon was spinning straight for his unprotected side. His sword was out of reach. He had no time to move.

He couldn’t stop it.

Then—

“Gestillan!”

The air hummed, and the axe froze mid-air, held for a suspended second before it dropped harmlessly to the dirt at Arthur’s feet.

Silence slammed down over the field.

Arthur stared at the axe. Then, slowly, he looked up.

His servant stood frozen at the edge of the field, one hand still half-raised, his face draining of color as he realized what he'd done. Their eyes met across the yard, and Arthur saw naked terror there.

Then Gwaine laughed, loud and boisterous. "Nice catch, Merlin!"

The tension didn’t break, but it seemed to loosen its stranglehold on them. Leon, his expression carefully neutral, reached to help Gwaine to his feet. Percival approached Arthur, placing his huge frame none-too-subtly between Arthur and his line of sight to Merlin, clapped him on the shoulder and quietly apologized for losing his grip on the axe.

Arthur’s mind spun uselessly as he looked at his knights, perplexed. Everyone seemed determined to pretend nothing unusual had happened. They had all seen it, of that he was certain, and yet the only one who would meet his eyes now was Gwaine, who stood casually less than a sword-strike away. His easy grin never faltered, but his sharp eyes glared, threatening, and the message was clear. Just you try to hurt Merlin, I dare you.

And Arthur couldn't help but turn and stare at Merlin, who was now very deliberately organizing medical supplies with shaking hands, his pale skin almost bloodless from fear. Gwen put a comforting hand on Merlin’s shoulder and whispered something to him before casting an apprehensive look briefly in his direction.

Magic. Merlin had magic.

The thought should have filled him with rage, with betrayal. Magic was evil, dangerous, the root of all Camelot's suffering. His father had taught him that from the cradle.

But all Arthur could think about was how many times he'd fallen—from horses, from walls, in battle—and walked away with barely a bruise. How many times had Merlin been there, quiet and unassuming, cushioning his landing?

"I think that's enough for today," he said, his voice sounding strange to his own ears.

The knights dispersed so reluctantly, he almost made it an order, but then Percival threw his arm around Gwaine’s shoulders and began to drag him off, saying something, with forced cheerfulness, about getting a drink at the Rising Sun. Elyan muttered something about needing to get something from the armory, and Leon fell into step beside him as they walked away. Lancelot paused beside Arthur, his expression pensive.

"Sire—"

"Not now, Lancelot."

The knight inclined his head and withdrew. Arthur found himself alone in the yard with only Gwen and Merlin remaining. His servant was standing now, the medical kit clutched to his chest like a shield.

"Merlin," Arthur began.

"I should go," Merlin said quickly. "The laundry won't—I need to—"

"Merlin." Arthur put command into his voice, saw his servant flinch. "My chambers. Now."

Merlin's shoulders slumped in defeat. He nodded once, then turned and walked toward the castle like a man heading to his execution. Arthur watched him go, his mind churning.

"Arthur," Gwen said softly, suddenly at his elbow. "Whatever you're thinking—"

"Did you know?" The question came out harsher than intended.

Gwen lifted her chin. "I suspected. As did your knights, apparently. As did you, if you're honest with yourself."

"That's not—I never—"

"Arthur." Her voice was gentle but firm. "How many times has he saved your life? How many impossible escapes, how many lucky chances? You're not a fool. You've always known there was something different about him."

"Magic is—"

"What? Evil? Look at him, Arthur. Really look at him. Does anything about Merlin seem evil to you?"

Arthur's jaw worked. He thought of Merlin's ridiculous ears, his terrible jokes, the way he fussed over Arthur's meals and worried about him getting enough sleep. The way he'd stood against sorcerers and monsters and kingdoms for Arthur's sake, armed with nothing but loyalty and—apparently—secret magic.

"He lied to me," Arthur said finally.

"To protect you both," Gwen countered. "What would you have done, truly, if he'd told you that first week? That first year? Would you have listened, or would you have done your duty?"

Arthur didn't answer. They both knew the truth.

"Talk to him," Gwen urged. "Before you do something you'll regret."

She squeezed his arm and left, her skirts whispering across the stones. Arthur stood alone in the empty yard, staring at the spot where Merlin had saved him.

Again.

When he finally made his way to his chambers, he found Merlin standing by the window, his back rigid with tension. The abandoned laundry basket sat by the door, forgotten.

"How long?" Arthur asked without preamble.

Merlin's hands clenched at his sides. "Always."

"Always?" Arthur's voice rose. "You've had magic this entire time?"

"I was born with it." Merlin turned finally, and his eyes were bright with unshed tears. "I didn't choose it, Arthur. It chose me. I've tried to—I've only ever used it to protect you, to protect Camelot."

Arthur tried and failed to comprehend. "All those times—the magical attacks, the creatures, the sorcerers who mysteriously failed—"

"Yes."

The simple admission hit Arthur like a physical blow. He sank into a chair, suddenly exhausted.

"The dragon?"

"Me."

"The branch that fell on that bandit who had his sword to my throat?"

"Me." Merlin's voice was barely a whisper now. "Always me."

Arthur buried his face in his hands. His entire world was tilting, everything he thought he knew crumbling. Merlin—his Merlin—was a sorcerer. Had been lying to him every day for years.

"Why didn't you tell me?" The question came out broken.

"And say what?" Merlin's laugh was bitter. "Hello, I'm Merlin, your father made me your manservant because I saved your life using the same magic for which he would see me burn at the stake?”

Arthur’s breath hitched. “Even then?”

“Of course even then!” Merlin said, exasperation and hurt in his tone, even as his eyes finally overflowed. He angrily scrubbed the tears from his face with the cuff of his sleeve. “You think it was coincidence that a chandelier just happened to fall on that woman after she’d already put everyone to sleep? You think I’m naturally quick enough to race across the room and pull you out of the way of the dagger that would have killed you?”

Arthur opened his mouth, but no words emerged. Well, when he put it that way…

“I wanted to tell you so many times, Arthur.” Merlin said quietly, still wiping ineffectually at his face. “You have no idea how much I wanted to trust you with this."

Arthur shook his head and looked down, struggling to parse all this information. "But you didn't," he said.

"How could I?" Merlin moved closer, his voice desperate. "Your father had children drowned for showing signs of magic. He burned men and women whose only crime was brewing healing potions. And you—you believed what he taught you. I watched you agree with him, watched you hunt down sorcerers—"

"They were trying to kill me," Arthur protested. He couldn’t defend all of his father’s actions, but they weren’t completely without reason.

"Not all of them." Merlin's voice was quiet, sad. "Some were just scared. Some were angry at what had been done to them. And yes, some were evil. But magic itself isn't evil, Arthur. It's just... it's just what I am."

Arthur looked up, found Merlin standing before him, tears now tracking unhindered down his cheeks. He looked young, vulnerable, nothing like the secret sorcerer who'd apparently been defending Camelot from the shadows.

"Were you ever going to tell me?"

"When you were king," Merlin said, his voice wet, strained with the sound of a hope yet to materialize. "When you could change the laws, when it was safe. I promised myself I'd tell you then."

"And if I'd had you executed?"

Merlin's smile was heartbreaking. "Then at least I'd have died as myself, not hiding anymore."

Arthur shot to his feet, unable to bear the resignation in that voice. "You idiot,” he said. His chest felt tight; his heart pierced, and not with the sting of betrayal. “You complete idiot. Did you really think—after everything—"

He couldn't finish. Too many emotions were within him—anger at the deception, grief for the trust broken, but underneath it all, a desperate relief that Merlin was still here, still breathing, still his.

"Arthur?" Merlin ventured uncertainly.

"I need time," Arthur said roughly. "To think. To... process this."

"Of course." Merlin moved toward the door, paused. "Arthur, I am sorry. For lying, for... for all of it. But I'm not sorry for protecting you. I'll never be sorry for that."

He left before Arthur could respond, the door closing with quiet finality.

Arthur stood in the center of his chambers, feeling more alone than he could remember. Everything was different now. Everything had changed.

Except...

Except Merlin was still Merlin. Still the man who brought him breakfast and nagged him about sleeping. Still the one who stood between Arthur and danger without hesitation. Still the person Arthur trusted above all others, the one whose opinion mattered most, the one whose smile could brighten Arthur's darkest days.

Magic hadn't changed that. If anything, it only proved what Arthur had always known deep down—that Merlin was extraordinary.

The thought was terrifying in its implications.

Night fell over Camelot, bringing with it a sense of expectation, like the air before a storm. Arthur stood on his balcony, watching torches flicker to life across the city. Somewhere out there, Merlin was probably in his chambers, wondering if tomorrow would bring execution or exile.

"Idiot," Arthur murmured to the night. As if he could ever—

A commotion in the courtyard below caught his attention. Guards were running, shouting orders. He could hear sounds of crashing armor and cries of pain.

Arthur grabbed his sword and ran, taking the stairs three at a time.

He burst into the courtyard to find chaos. Blue flames licked at the walls, impervious to the water the servants threw at them. A multitude of ravens circled overhead, croaking and cawing. At the center of it all stood a figure in dark robes, hood thrown back to reveal a gaunt face marked by desperation.

"Arthur Pendragon!" the sorcerer called out. "Face me, or watch your kingdom burn!"

Arthur stepped forward, sword raised. Around him, his knights were converging, drawn by the commotion. He saw Leon organizing the guards, Gwaine and Percival flanking him, Lancelot and Elyan moving to cut off escape routes.

And there, emerging from the shadows like he always did when Arthur was in danger, was Merlin.

Their eyes met across the courtyard. Arthur saw the question there, the readiness to act tempered by fear of exposure. He gave the tiniest shake of his head. Not yet. Let me try.

"I'm here," Arthur called out to the sorcerer. "What do you want?"

The man laughed, high and unstable. "What do I want? I want my sister back, but your father burned her. I want my home back, but your knights destroyed it. I want justice, but there is none to be had in Camelot!"

"My father is not—" Arthur began.

"I know about the king!" the sorcerer spat. "Broken in mind, useless. But you... you're just like him, aren't you? The son following in the father's bloodstained footsteps."

"I am not my father."

"Prove it." The sorcerer raised his hands, the circling ravens cried in unison, a terrifying cacophony, and the blue flames leap higher. "Show me you're different. Show me there's hope for change, or I'll reduce this castle to ash and bone."

Arthur stepped closer, lowering his sword slightly. "What's your name?"

The sorcerer blinked, clearly not expecting that. "What?"

"Your name. And your sister's. If I'm to understand your grief, I should know who you mourn."

"I... Aldric. My name is Aldric. My sister was Anya."

"Tell me about Anya, Aldric."

For a moment, the flames flickered lower. But then Aldric's face hardened again.

"Words," he snarled. "Just words. You want to understand? Feel what I feel. Loss. Despair. The knowledge that someone you love is gone forever."

He pulled something from his robes—a stone on a leather cord, black as midnight but pulsing with sickly green light. The ravens shrieked, and the air was filled with the sound of wings.

"Someone offered me coin to test you, Arthur Pendragon. To humiliate you, prove you to be the weak figurehead you are and, better yet, provided me the means to do so." His smile was terrible. "I'm going to steal the soul of the person you most value. Let's see how you handle real loss."

"You can't—" Arthur started forward, but Aldric held up a hand, muttered an incomprehensible word, and an invisible force slammed into Arthur's chest, holding him in place. The ravens broke from their circling formation and settled on the stone roofs and battlements, gazing down at the courtyard, their sudden silence even more unnerving than their noise.

"Can't I? This stone is older than your kingdom, boy. It hungers for souls, and it never misses its mark." He looked around the courtyard, taking in the knights, the servants, the guards. "So many to choose from. But it will know. It always knows."

"Everyone here is under my protection," Arthur said firmly. "Everyone here is equally valuable. You want a soul? Take mine."

Aldric laughed. "Maybe it will! The stone chooses based on your heart, not your words. It will take whoever you value most – even if it’s yourself! -- and there's nothing you can do to stop it."

"Arthur!" That was Gwaine, sword drawn, but the blue flames formed a barrier between them.

"Although," Aldric continued, studying Arthur with bright, mad eyes, "if it's not you it takes—if someone else here more valuable to you than your own life—then perhaps you're not fit to be king after all."

Arthur's heart was racing, but he kept his voice steady. "Every person under my rule is valuable. Every life matters."

"Pretty words," Aldric sneered. "Let's see if they're true. Let's see who Arthur Pendragon can't live without."

He gripped the stone, speaking words in the old tongue. The green light pulsed brighter, spreading out like seeking fingers. Arthur fought against the invisible bonds holding him, but couldn't move.

He heard a familiar voice call his name, and he turned his head and saw Merlin, who was shoving his way through the crowd to get to him, all caution tossed aside.

The light touched each person in the courtyard—guards who had tried and failed to stop the sorcerer’s approach through the lower town. The people who had followed, out of foolish curiosity or lack of self-preservation. His knights, Leon, Gwaine, and Percival. Gwen and Gaius, who had appeared in a doorway. The green light passed over them like they were nothing. It swirled, searching, hungry.

Then it found Merlin, just as he emerged from the crowd and stumbled into the courtyard. Arthur realized a moment before Merlin did, because, as the sickly light streaked toward him, Merlin was too focused on Arthur to realize the danger he was in. There was only a moment for their eyes to meet before Merlin noticed the light that was racing straight at him. He raised his hand in defense, and Arthur saw his eyes flash, a brief, strange glow--

The light struck Merlin like a physical blow. His eyes went wide, the glow extinguished, a strangled gasp escaping his lips, and then he was falling, crumpling to the stones like a marionette with cut strings.

The courtyard went utterly silent.

"What?" Aldric stared at the fallen servant, then at the stone, which now pulsed with a contained light. "That's... a servant? Really?"

"What did you do?" Arthur's voice came out raw, desperate. The invisible bonds had released him, and he was across the courtyard in seconds, dropping to his knees beside Merlin's still form. "What did you do to him?"

"I... I took his soul," Aldric said, sounding bewildered. "The stone takes the soul of whoever you value most. But why would it choose a servant? Unless..."

Merlin's chest rose and fell with mechanical precision, but his eyes were closed, his face slack. Arthur touched his cheek, found it cool.

"Merlin?" No response. Arthur grabbed his shoulder and shook him. "Merlin, come on. This isn't funny."

Merlin blinked his eyes open, and Arthur was so startled by the bright gold of his irises that he jerked back, as if burned.

Merlin sat up, staring blankly ahead.

“Merlin?” Arthur’s voice broke hoarsely. “What—what are you—” He stopped as Merlin turned his head slowly to look at him and Arthur felt his blood run cold. Merlin’s glowing, golden eyes were open but empty, like windows in an abandoned house. There was nothing there, no spark of recognition, no warmth, no Merlin, even as his servant – his magic-using servant -- sat up and slowly got to his feet.

"Oh," Aldric breathed, looking at the pendant that now pulsed with bright, golden light. "Oh, this is bad."

Merlin raised one hand, and his eyes burned brighter, the glowing gold of his irises bleeding into pupil and sclera.

On the battlements, the ravens shrieked and took to the air, dispersing as quickly as they came.

The temperature in the courtyard plummeted. Frost spread across the stones in spiraling patterns. The blue flames went out like candles in a hurricane.

"This is very bad," Aldric said, backing away. "You should run. All of you should run."

"What's happening?" Arthur demanded, standing but not moving away from Merlin. "Why are his eyes like that? What's wrong with him?"

"Don't you understand?" Aldric's voice was high with panic. "Look at him! Really look! That's not human magic—that's raw power. He's not just a sorcerer. He IS magic."

Merlin tilted his head, studying Aldric with those terrible golden eyes. When he spoke, his voice was hollow, emotionless. "You are a threat to Arthur Pendragon."

"No, wait—" Aldric threw up a shield, but Merlin's hand cut through the air, and the shield shattered like glass.

"Merlin, stop!" Arthur commanded, but Merlin didn't even pause. Another gesture, and Aldric was lifted off his feet, choking.

"I surrender!" Aldric gasped out. "I yield! Please, I'll return his soul, I'll—"

Merlin closed his fist. There was a sound like breaking wood, and Aldric crumpled to the ground, unmoving. The stone fell from his lifeless fingers, still pulsing with that contained light.

Then Merlin simply... stopped. He stood perfectly still, hands at his sides, staring at nothing.

"Merlin?" Arthur approached cautiously. "Can you hear me?"

No response. The glow of his eyes faded until only his irises burned gold, but they remained empty, unseeing.

"He has magic," someone whispered.

"So not the problem right now!" Gwaine said. He approached slowly, waving a hand in front of Merlin's face. "Hello? Hey, Merls? Anyone home?"

Nothing.

Gwen pushed through the crowd, Gaius close behind her. The old physician staggered when he saw the evidence of Merlin’s magic writ plainly in front of everyone in his blazing blank eyes, and he looked around, fearfully seeing all the witnesses still gathered, still witnessing this crime against Uther’s laws that bore but one punishment, but then his gaze was drawn to the pendant on the ground, the black stone pulsing with golden life, and he paled.

"No," he breathed. "No, my poor boy."

"Gaius?" Arthur's voice was sharper than he meant, but he needed answers now. "What's wrong with him?"

Gaius moved to examine Merlin, checking his pulse, looking into his empty eyes. His hands shook.

"The stone took his soul," he said quietly. "But Merlin... Merlin isn't like other men. He's..." He paused, seeming to age years in seconds. "There are prophecies. Ancient texts. They speak of Emrys, the most powerful warlock ever to walk the earth. Magic incarnate, born to restore the balance."

Arthur opened his mouth to ask how that was even possible, but before he could speak, Leon asked, with no small amount of awe, "Wait… Merlin is Emrys?"

Gaius nodded. "Yes. And without his soul, without his humanity to temper it, he's just... power. Raw, unlimited power, with no will but to serve his purpose."

"Which is?" Arthur demanded.

Gaius looked at him with infinite sadness. "To protect you, Sire. The prophecies say Emrys exists to ensure Arthur Pendragon becomes the Once and Future King. Without his soul, that order is all that remains."

Once and Future King? Emrys? None of that made any sense, and Arthur didn’t care for an explanation. He stared at Merlin—his friend, his servant, standing without his soul, and apparently powerful enough to kill a man with a twitch of his hand—and felt his world tilt further off its axis.

"How do we get him back?"

"I don't know," Gaius admitted. "The stone still holds his soul, but with the sorcerer dead..."

Arthur snatched up the stone, the leather cord still warm from Aldric's grip. The golden light within pulsed steadily, like a heartbeat.

"Then we break it," he said.

"Sire, no!" Gaius caught his wrist. "Breaking the stone might destroy the soul within. We need knowledge, research—"

"Then get started," Arthur ordered. He looked around the courtyard, taking in the shocked faces of his people. "Leon, double the guard. Gwaine, Percival—help me get Aldric's body to—"

"Sire," Leon said quietly, "perhaps we should continue this inside. The people..."

Arthur looked around, saw servants and guards all staring at Merlin with mixtures of awe and fear. Word would spread through Camelot like wildfire—the prince's manservant was a sorcerer.

"You're right. Leon, have the body taken to the vaults—we may need to examine his possessions. Everyone else... go home." He raised his voice. "What happened here goes no further. Anyone who speaks of it outside these walls will answer to me personally."

Murmurs of agreement, though Arthur knew it was futile. By dawn, all of Camelot would know, and Arthur would be all that stood between Merlin and arrest and execution.

Arthur walked up to Merlin until they were standing face to face. He stared into those empty eyes, trying to see something of his friend in their eerie depths.

“Merlin,” he said.

Merlin didn’t respond, or acknowledge him in any way. His face was blank, peaceful in a way that was deeply wrong. Merlin's face was meant for expressions—exasperation, fondness, that particular smirk when he thought he was being clever.

"Merlin… Do you recognize me?"

No response. Arthur felt thorns of dread twisting in his chest. “Do you even know who I am?”

Merlin focused his gaze on Arthur for the first time. "You are Arthur Pendragon. Crown Prince. King Regent. The Once and Future King."

Again, that nonsensical title, but he didn’t care. At least Merlin was talking to him. "Do you know who you are?"

A pause. "Emrys."

"No.” Arthur resisted the urge to reach out and try to shake some sense into him. “Your name is Merlin," he said firmly. "You're my—" He stopped, unsure how to finish. Servant seemed insufficient. Friend felt too small. "You're Merlin."

No response. Those empty eyes stared through him.

“Gaius.” Arthur turned to the old healer, who was staring at Merlin with a soft, sad horror. “Do you have anything that can fix this?”

“I will do everything in my power to restore Merlin’s soul to him, Sire,” Gaius said gravely, and with enough conviction that Arthur felt a small spark of hope. “I will start with the books and scrolls in my chambers. I have encountered records of the Stone of Souls before, and, while I do not recall reading of any way to undo this enchantment, it will at least be a place to start.”

"Then I will help you,” Arthur said. “Merlin, follow me." And, to his relief, Merlin obeyed.

They made a strange procession through the castle—Arthur leading, Merlin following with measured steps, Gaius hurrying behind. Servants scattered from their path, eyes wide.

Once safely in the physician’s tower, Arthur closed the door firmly. Merlin walked to the middle of the room and just stopped and stood motionlessly, while Gaius began going through the books on his shelves.

Arthur did not like the way Merlin was absolutely motionless, like a statue. "Sit," he said to Merlin, gesturing to a chair.

“I do not need to sit,” Merlin said blankly.

“Ugh,” Arthur groaned, as apparently Merlin was as disobedient without his soul as with it. “Just… do as I say, will you? You are my manservant, after all.”

“I am your protector,” Merlin corrected. “Sitting provides no benefit to my ability to protect you.”

“It will bloody well protect my peace of mind,” Arthur snapped, as he genuinely wondered if this was what it felt like to go mad.

Merlin looked at him with those terrible, empty eyes for a long moment. Then he walked over to the chair and sat.

Arthur heaved a sigh, and ran his hands through his hair. "Do you need food or water?"

"No."

"Do you need anything?"

"No."

“What—” He swallowed. “What happened to you?”

“My soul was removed and trapped by the Stone of Souls,” Merlin said, as calm and emotionless as if he was commenting on the weather.

“You said your name is Emrys.”

“Yes.”

“So what—how--” Arthur gestured to him, struggling to articulate his question.

Merlin blinked. “I am what remains. I am Magic. I am Emrys.”

Arthur took a deep breath. “And Merlin?”

Merlin pointed to the pendant, its leather cord still clutched in Arthur’s white-knuckled fist. He looked down at it, at the golden light trapped within the black stone.

“You mean,” Arthur said hoarsely, “that there is nothing left of Merlin in you, somewhere deep down? That everything he ever is and was, is in this?”

“You are correct that there is nothing left of Merlin in me,” Merlin said. “But we are meant to be the same, I in him, and him in me. We have been sundered in a way that was never meant to be.”

Arthur swallowed. “If you’re the magic, do you know how to… to break the enchantment on the stone and free your soul?”

“No. It is ancient, dark magic, and the enchantment is tied to many anchors that cannot be undone without proper ritual.”

“Do you know the proper ritual?” Arthur asked.

“No.”

“Do you know who does know the proper ritual?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“No.”

Yes. This was definitely what going mad felt like. “If you’re magic; if you’re raw, unlimited power like Gaius said,” he said, gesturing to the physician who had stopped rummaging through his shelves to watch this exchange. “Isn’t this something you should know?”

Merlin gazed at him with expressionless, golden eyes. “I am confined to this flesh, and thus subject to many of its limitations. It is within my power to release myself from this body, but then I would return to the earth, sea and sky, and would be unable to continue as your protector. This body would die, and my soul would remained trapped in the stone.”

The words hit Arthur like a blow. Angrily, and without another word to the magical husk that wore his friend’s face, he hung the pendant around his neck so that the stone rested next to his heart. He turned to Gaius, who was already setting books out on one of the tables.

"Tell me everything," Arthur demanded. "About Merlin, about this Emrys. About his magic. Everything you've kept from me."

Gaius sank into a chair, suddenly looking every one of his many years. "I've known since he first arrived in Camelot. The power in him... it was like nothing I'd ever seen. He could move objects with his mind before he could walk, could speak to the earth itself as a child."

Arthur scoffed. “Oh, is that all.” He turned and strode toward the window before turning back quickly. "And you never thought to mention this," he exclaimed.

"Would you have listened, Sire? Or would you have followed your father's laws?" Gaius's eyes were steady, challenging. "Merlin could have left at any time, and yet he stayed in Camelot for one reason—to protect you. Everything he's done, every lie he's told, has been in service of that destiny."

"Destiny," Arthur spat the word. "I don't believe in destiny."

"Then believe in choice," Gaius said quietly. "Because Merlin chose you, every day. He could have been a king in his own right, could have ruled through power and fear. Instead, he chose to be your servant, to hide his gifts, to suffer in silence so that you might one day bring about a kingdom where magic and non-magic folk could live in peace."

Arthur looked at Merlin, sitting perfectly still in the chair. "And now?"

"Now he's been reduced to his base purpose. Without his soul, his humanity, he's simply the instrument of prophecy. He'll protect you, serve your destiny—but the man who chose to do those things is trapped in that stone."

Arthur’s hand reached up to the pendant and pressed the stone against his breastbone, golden light streaming from between his fingers. Was Merlin aware inside the stone, alone and afraid? The thought was unbearable.

"How do we free him?"

Gaius opened a large, leather-bound tome, its pages yellow with age, and shuffled carefully through the pages. "The Stone of Souls is ancient magic, predating even the Old Religion. Legend says it was created by those who feared love, who saw it as weakness.” He turned pages carefully, then stopped on a page where Arthur could see a drawing of the pendant. Gaius scanned the page, and said, "There are stories of those who tried to break such stones. Most ended with both souls destroyed—the trapped and the trapper."

Arthur frowned. "There has to be a way--"

A knock at the door interrupted him. Arthur called out an irritated "Enter."

Leon stepped inside, his expression grave. "Sire, forgive the intrusion,” he said, glancing at Merlin who sat unmoving, staring off blankly at nothing. “There's something you need to know."

"What now?"

"The attacking sorcerer—Aldric. We searched his belongings as you ordered. We found letters." Leon held out a sheaf of parchment. "He told the truth, he was hired, Sire. Someone paid him to attack Camelot, to test you."

Arthur took the letters, checking them quickly. No names, no identifying marks, but the intent was clear—humiliate the young regent, prove him weak, sow discord in Camelot.

"Double the patrols," he ordered. "And I want to know who is behind this.” He met Leon’s gaze and knew that his First Knight’s thoughts echoed his own on who was the most likely culprit: Morgana.

It had been over three months since she had attacked Camelot and overthrown the citadel with Morgause and her immortal army. And while Morgause had sustained a possibly fatal injury, it was still long enough for Morgana to regroup and plan another attack. Perhaps even a plan where she hired sorcerers to attack with devastating magical artifacts that stole souls.

But rather than voicing their fears, Leon simply bowed and said, “Yes, Sire,” before walking out and closing the door behind him.

Arthur turned to Gaius and, with an enthusiasm he did not feel, clapped his hands and said, “All right, where were we? Research! We’d best get to it. Where would you like me to start?”

Gaius handed him an ancient, heavy tome from the increasing pile, and he sighed.

They read and researched well into the small hours of the morning, until Arthur’s eyes burned and the words on the pages began to blur, and the next thing he knew, he was woken by the sound of a chair scraping across the floor. He jerked upright, noticing with some chagrin that he had fallen asleep at the table. Someone had draped a blanket over his shoulders, and a quick scan of the room showed Gaius asleep in his cot. Thin, grey morning light seeped through the windows. He turned and saw that the noise that woke him was Merlin standing from his chair.

"Merlin?"

Merlin’s head tilted to the side as if listening to something only he could hear. "There’s danger approaching," he said in that hollow voice. "There’s magic coming from the north. More than one source. They mean harm."

Arthur's blood ran cold, and he stood, pushing himself away from the table, the blanket falling from his shoulders. "Can you tell how many?"

"Seven. They will be arriving within the hour."

"Seven sorcerers?"

"Yes."

Arthur looked upward, as if accusing the heavens. Was it only yesterday morning that his biggest worry had been enduring the council? Since then, he had discovered that Merlin was a sorcerer, complicating his already complicated feelings for the man, then he lost Merlin to a magical artifact wielded by an idiot sorcerer who didn’t even know what he was doing, and now his troubles had multiplied sevenfold.

Gathering himself, strode to the door, opened it, and called for the guards. A guard raced up the stone steps of the physician’s tower. “Sire?”

“Fetch Sir Leon,” Arthur ordered. “Sound the warning bells. Inform the captain of the guard that I want every guard armed and ready for an attack. Evacuate the lower town to the citadel. If you see Sir Leon, send him to me."

"Yes, Sire!" The guard quickly ran to obey.

“Sire, what is happening?” Arthur turned to see Gaius awake and easing himself out of his cot as quickly as his old bones would allow.

Arthur nodded his head at Merlin, who stood impassively. “He said danger is on the way in the form of seven sorcerers with evil intent.

Gaius paled. “Oh dear,” he said. “An attack so soon after the first bodes ill.”

The sound of the warning bells began to clang loudly, and Arthur could hear shouts of alarm from outside. “I need to get Sir Leon and muster the knights,” he said. He looked at Merlin, who remained standing, unaffected, and turned to Gaius, frowning. "Can he defend himself? Like this?"

"He's more powerful now than ever," Gaius said quietly. "Without his humanity holding him back, without fear or doubt...”

They both turned as Merlin suddenly moved and walked toward Arthur. “I will fight and destroy the enemies of Arthur Pendragon and Camelot,” he said without inflection, and something about that made Arthur’s heart clench.

“You are not a weapon,” he said firmly. “And I will not use you like one.”

“It is what I am for.”

“No!” Arthur turned and grasped Merlin by his shoulders. He could barely stand to look into those empty eyes, but he refused to let anything happen to Merlin, even if it was just his physical form. “No, you will stay here, with Gaius, until it is safe, do you understand?”

“I cannot effectively protect you if I stay here,” Merlin said. “I will come with you.”

“No! You utter—” Arthur tightened his fingers around Merlin’s shoulders and shook him lightly. “Listen, you… you cabbagehead, if you serve me, you have to do what I say, and I order you to stay here during the battle!”

Merlin didn’t even blink. “I will always serve your best interests,” he said. “Staying here during a battle where you could be harmed or killed is not in your best interests.”

Arthur released Merlin’s shoulders abruptly, leaving him swaying slightly before he once again stilled, and growled in frustration. He glared at Gaius, who was watching the exchange with wide eyes. “He might not be Merlin,” Arthur snapped, “but he is just as disobedient and infuriating!”

Gaius’s gaze darted between Arthur and Merlin. “To be fair, Sire,” he said carefully, “Merlin has always protected you, usually from the shadows. If he goes to battle with you now, the only difference will be that he will be out in the open. And, as he is now, I have little doubt of his ability to protect you, and Camelot.”

“But Gaius, using him like this, like a weapon—"

"I know," Gaius said gently. “You don’t know how many times I wished for him to be safe and free of this burden. But he is the only genuine protection against magical threats. He always has been. You need him. Camelot needs him."

Arthur rubbed his hands over his face, then turned to Merlin. “Are you still capable of helping me into my armor?“

“Yes.”

“Fine. With me, then. Gaius?”

“I will prepare for casualties, Sire.”

Arthur nodded grimly and strode out the door, Merlin keeping pace behind him.

The castle was abuzz with activity as the warning bells continued to ring out. No one attempted to stop Arthur and ask for an explanation, though many stopped to stare at Merlin and his glowing, golden eyes. Knights ran to their posts, servants secured valuables, children were hustled to safety.

When they reached his chambers and Arthur closed the door behind them, he moved to his armor stand. Merlin moved without being commanded and began strapping on pieces with practiced efficiency, helping with buckles and straps, anticipating needs with eerie precision.

Arthur contemplated his soulless manservant as he continued to help him with his armor. “You know,” he said, “I can lock you in here to keep you safe.”

Merlin didn’t even pause in his work. “I cannot be contained by locked doors,” he said, securing Arthur’s pauldron in place.

Arthur nodded, thin-lipped. “Of course not,” he said through gritted teeth. “And that actually explains a lot.”

When his armor was in place and secure, Merlin handed Arthur his sword. Arthur took it, sheathed it in its scabbard, and sighed heavily. "When this is over," he promised, "we'll find a way to bring you back. I swear it."

Merlin stared at him, hollow-eyed, and didn’t respond.

As the warning bells continued to toll across Camelot. Arthur strode through the corridors, Merlin at his heels. Leon met him in the main entry and fell into step beside him.

In the courtyard, his knights were assembled. Gwaine's usual levity was absent, his face grim. Percival stood like a mountain, unmovable. Elyan was checking the edge of his blade while Lancelot spoke quietly with the men.

"Seven sorcerers approach," Arthur announced. "We don't know their purpose, but given recent events, we must assume hostile intent."

His knights glanced at each other, uneasily.

"And why is he here?" Gwaine asked, jerking his head toward Merlin.

"Apparently he fights with us," Arthur said sardonically. "Explicitly against my will. I can explain more later, though I will happily give ten gold pieces to anyone who can convince him to stay inside during the battle."

The knights leaned forward as one to look at Merlin. He looked back at them, standing more motionless than humanly possible.

No one moved.

"Right then!" Arthur continued. "Leon, take archers to the battlements. Gwaine, Percival—you're with me at the main gate. Lancelot, Elyan—"

"Movement on the north road!" a guard called from the walls.

Arthur ran up the steps to the battlements, his knights behind him. In the distance, he could see them—seven figures in dark robes, walking unhurriedly toward Camelot. The air around them shimmered with power, and behind them in the air, an unkindness of ravens flew in haphazard patterns.

“Well,” said Gwaine, looking at the ravens, “that explains why we are being attacked again so soon. I’d bet even odds that those birdies are spying for whoever is behind all this.”

“You are correct,” Merlin said. “The ravens are being used as vessels for scrying.”

Arthur frowned, remembering the ravens that watched on, witnessing as Merlin’s soul was stolen from him, and then Emrys’ ruthless retaliation.

"Confident bastards," Elyan muttered.

"Perhaps they think us weakened?” Lancelot asked.

"Are we?" Percival asked quietly.

Arthur glanced at Merlin, who stood perfectly still beside him, those empty eyes fixed on the approaching threat.

"Let's find out.” Taking a deep breath, he said, “Merlin, can you stop them from here?"

"No. The distance is too great for precise targeting. Collateral damage to the surrounding forest is unacceptable."

And Arthur felt the tight knot of fear and anxiety coiled in his gut loosen just the slightest. Even soulless, he wouldn't harm the innocent. Some part of Merlin remained, buried deep.

"Then we meet them at the gate," Arthur decided. "If they want Camelot, they'll have to go through us."

They descended to the courtyard, taking position before the main gates. Arthur drew his sword, the weight familiar in his hand. Around him, his knights formed up, shields raised, faces set with determination.

The seven sorcerers stopped just beyond arrow range. One stepped forward, lowering his hood to reveal a scarred face and cold eyes.

"Arthur Pendragon," he called out. "We've come for the sorcerer Emrys. Surrender him, and Camelot need not burn today."

Wait, they had come for Merlin?

"Any sorcerer under my protection stays under my protection," Arthur replied. "Turn back now, and you can leave with your lives."

The scarred sorcerer laughed. "You would die for a servant? For a creature of magic?"

"I would die for any of my people."

"How noble. How foolish." The sorcerer raised his hand. "Take them."

The attack came like a thunderstorm. Lightning split the sky, fireballs rained down, the very earth cracked beneath their feet. Arthur raised his shield, felt the impact of magical force nearly drive him to his knees.

Then Merlin moved.

He stepped forward, raised both hands, and the world went silent. Every spell, every attack, simply... stopped. Frozen in midair like insects in amber.

"I have evaluated the threat," Merlin said calmly. And then he retaliated.

He pushed, and the frozen spells reversed, hurtling back toward their casters. The sorcerers scrambled to defend, throwing up shields, diving aside. Two weren't fast enough—they fell, their own lightning turning against them.

"Impossible," the scarred leader breathed.

Merlin tilted his head. "You are incorrect." He gestured, and the leader was yanked forward, held suspended by invisible force. "State your purpose."

The sorcerer struggled, but couldn't break free. "We came for you, Emrys. The prophecies speak of your power. With you, we could remake the world, bring magic back to its rightful place."

"Magic's place is in service to the Once and Future King," Merlin replied tonelessly. "Your goals are incompatible with what I was made to do."

"You're enslaved! Can't you see? They've bound you, reduced you to a pet!"

"I am not bound. I am focused." Merlin's eyes flashed gold. "You will leave. Now."

"Never! We came for Emrys, and we'll have him!" The sorcerer spoke a word of power, and his fellows attacked again.

This time, Merlin didn't hold back.

The air itself seemed to bend around him. One attacker's flames turned to ice mid-flight, shattering harmlessly. Another found the ground beneath him had become quicksand. A third simply... stopped, frozen in place by invisible bonds.

It wasn't a battle. It was a demonstration.

In seconds, five sorcerers lay unconscious or restrained. Only the leader and one other remained standing, and they were backing away, terror replacing arrogance.

"You're not Emrys," the leader whispered. "Emrys would never... You're something else. Something wrong."

"I am what I need to be," Merlin replied. He raised his hand again.

"Merlin, stop," Arthur commanded, fearful that he would be ignored if Emrys didn’t consider this in his best interests.

Merlin paused, hand still raised.

Without letting the immense relief he felt show, Arthur stepped forward, addressing the sorcerers. "You've seen what he can do. What I could order him to do. Leave now. Tell others what happened here. Any who threaten Camelot will face the same."

The leader stared at him. "You command Emrys? You dare?"

"I don't command him," Arthur said, though the words tasted like ash. "But the fool who attacked earlier today removed and trapped his soul.”

The leader’s gaze flicked to Arthur’s chest where a golden light strong enough to penetrate chainmail and plate shown through, and his face turned grey.

Arthur smiled grimly. “That’s right,” he said, “this is your doing, and until his soul is returned, I'm all that stands between him and the world. Would you rather face him with my conscience guiding him, or without?"

The sorcerer paled further. He grabbed his remaining companion, and they vanished in a swirl of smoke, leaving their unconscious fellows behind.

The ravens immediately dispersed.

"Secure the prisoners," Arthur ordered his knights. "Gently—they're defeated."

As his men moved to comply, Arthur turned to Merlin. "Are there other threats?"

"I’m checking." A pause. "No."

"Good. Then..." Arthur hesitated. What did one do with a soulless all-powerful sorcerer? "Return to my chambers. Wait for me there."

Merlin turned and walked away without a word. Arthur watched him go, his chest tight with something that might have been grief.

"That was..." Gwaine started, then stopped, apparently at a loss for words.

"Terrifying," Elyan supplied.

"Efficient," Leon corrected, though he looked shaken.

"Not Merlin," Lancelot said quietly, and that summed it up perfectly.

Arthur sheathed his sword, suddenly exhausted. "Have the prisoners taken to the cells—the comfortable ones. I want them treated well. Maybe one of them knows something about the stone."

He started to turn away, then paused. "And thank you. All of you. For standing with him. With us."

"Always," Gwaine said, and the others nodded agreement.

Arthur made his way back to his chambers slowly, dreading what he'd find. Merlin was exactly where he'd expected—standing in the center of the room, motionless, but he immediately turned and helped Arthur divest himself of his armor without being asked.

With is armor gone, Arthur reached up and carefully removed the pendant with the Stone of Souls from around his neck and set it gently on the table. Merlin’s soul shone like a small sun within the black stone.

"Sit down," Arthur said tiredly, gesturing to a chair by the fire. “You must be cold."

"The temperature is acceptable," Merlin replied but sat anyway. Arthur wondered if it was done solely to protect his peace of mind.

Arthur sank into the opposite chair, staring at his friend's empty face in the firelight. Just yesterday, he'd discovered Merlin had magic. Had been angry about the deception, hurt by the lies. Now he'd give anything to have that Merlin back, lies and all.

"Do you remember anything?" he asked. "About before? About... us?"

Silence. Then, "I do not understand the question.”

Arthur's throat burned. "Do you remember being my friend?"

"I have no memories prior to my current state. I possess the knowledge necessary to protect you. Personal experiences are... absent."

"But you knew about the approaching sorcerers. You know how to use your magic."

"I am magic. But I have no memory of time before my soul was removed. I know Arthur Pendragon requires protection. I do not remember why."

Arthur closed his eyes. Somewhere in that stone, Merlin's soul held all those memories—of shared adventures, quiet evenings, inside jokes, and unspoken truths. Everything that made him Merlin rather than just Emrys.

"I'll get you back," he promised. "Whatever it takes."

Merlin didn't respond. The fire crackled between them, casting dancing shadows on empty walls.

Outside, night deepened over Camelot. In the cells below, five sorcerers nursed their wounds and wondered what they'd stumbled into. In his chambers, Gaius pored over ancient texts, searching for hope. In the tavern, Gwaine bought rounds and didn't make jokes, while Percival sat silent and Elyan sharpened a blade that didn't need it. In Gwen’s house, Lancelot sat next to her and held her as she wept into his shoulder.

And in the prince's chambers, two figures sat by the fire—one wrestling with newfound knowledge and feelings he couldn't name, the other empty of everything that had once made him human.

The stone pulsed on the table between them, golden light steady as a heartbeat, holding a soul captive.

Holding Merlin captive.

"I need you," he whispered to the hollow shell wearing Merlin's face. "Not Emrys. Not magic. You. The idiot who can't polish armor properly and makes terrible jokes and always knows when I need someone to tell me I'm being a prat."

Golden eyes flickered in the firelight, but remained empty.

Arthur settled in for a long night of watching, of guarding what remained of his dearest friend, of planning how to achieve the impossible.

He would get Merlin back.

He had to.

-------------

Feedback and constructive criticism welcome and appreciated! :D

#merlin fanfic #bbc merlin #merlin fandom #merthur #merlin x arthur #arthur pendragon #merlin emrys #emrys #emrys without merlin

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twinkdrama · 2 years ago

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#chat generative pre trained transformer #chat gpt #chatgpt #hello kitty #queer #shitpost #twinkdrama

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hnwd · 6 days ago

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Azaquiel 2025 Sheet ✨

Backstory below ⬇️

(Had to use a translator for the text sorry for any mistakes)

Pre-Arc.

Azaquiel's origins come from Shinetale*, in this universe of angels and demons, the entity that called itself Azaquiel, guardian of the Orb*, he had reigned, seen thousands of lives, the sight of destruction he had within his grasp had left him. The circle of war between demons and angels was nothing more than a child's quarrel in his eyes. He had already seen everything in this world and was the equal of a god, he who advocated balance. He would have grown tired of this role, one day a crazy idea came to him: what if there were other universes?

Why would they be the only ones? If an entity had indeed created them, there must be other creations, even other creators. Thus came to him the plan to leave this world, this identity, and this life, even if it meant losing everything.

He finally succeeded by using the Orb to create a rift that ruptured the fabric of his universe, just brief enough for his passage. To pass, he had reduced himself to the simplest state of energy, a soul, leaving a closed multiverse*. Crossing the Nexus* as a new anomaly, his soul eventually re-entered a new multiverse, and his soul slipped into the code of a universe guided by a spirit* caring for wandering souls, allowing him to insert himself into a life cycle, but his simple existence had already been detected before his rebirth.

Arc 1

Azaquiel was born on a floating island; his new existence as a Unicorn* had barely begun before he felt the terror of death weigh on his frail body. In one exception, Azaquiel was born with a twin, and their litter had exhausted their mother to the point where she was unable to transfer the magic necessary to satisfy their newborn hunger. In such cases, it was normal for the two foals to kill each other to regain the energy needed to survive. However, Azaquiel was the weaker foal, and even more paralyzed by his dark twin. His life was destined to end abruptly. Yet, the firstborn turned away from him and turned toward their mother's body.

He saw it absorb the remaining energy of the being that had given them life as if it didn't matter to him. As his eyes were absorbed by the scene, a shifting air current, a strange smell, the others in the herd raised their heads toward him. Not toward him, behind him, as his brother turned his nose in his direction, Azaquiel felt hands lift his body and pull him into a portal that closed instantly. His body trembling, he raised his nose toward a strange skeleton with a cruel smile.

"❄︎♏︎ ❖︎□︎♓︎●︎◻︎ ♏︎■︎♐︎♓︎■︎"

He didn't yet know that he had just become the perfect exception for an obsessive entity.

Unfortunately, or rather with frustrating satisfaction, EchO* noticed that the soul was irrecoverable, rendered nonexistent since this soul didn't possess one. But this provided the opportunity for a new possibility of transformation.

Azaquiel found himself tied up for the first part of his life as a lab rat. He couldn't even move, forced to stand like a doll with its joints locked. His mind was beginning to normalize this life, to be an object of testing and injection. This dull idea gradually changed when his code was trained to generate another body. The tests became less frequent, he was forced to walk with an unbalanced body, unable to assume his birth form, his true self. He was beginning to understand what the Gaster wanted. He was beginning to understand its words.

"Create something for me, Helvetica."

Helvetica

Who was Helvetica?

Why were her letters carved into the back of his neck?

He wasn't Helvetica.

He wasn't Sans.

He wasn't Human.

He wasn't Gaster.

He was Azaquiel.

That name was etched in his mind, the only trace of his old life. But for that life, a life that filled him with emptiness, it wasn't worth fighting for.

He had become docile; he no longer sought to escape, since he had never known freedom. But this idea was about to begin to take root in his mind when a child was thrown into the next cell. She described to him the outside world he had forgotten, she promised him he would live, or die, even if he had to try. Otherwise, he could stay here, within her walls, like a doll. The young colt finally mustered the determination to get out, and together they waited for the right moment. The moment when the OTHER wasn't there, the right moment.

When the elevator doors were about to close, and they were untied, the moment when Azaquiel was removed from the collar that prevented him from returning to his original form. They dashed off together, as Azaquiel reverted to his original form and the girl climbed onto his back. The doors closed right behind them, and his sidekick punched the highest button. After all, they were in a basement; the exit had to be the highest, right?

The doors finally opened in another burst. It wasn't a corridor, just a circular room with dark windows, and two scientists lunged at them.

Azaquiel instinctively lowered his head and his horn sank into the first scientist before he stepped back, letting his body fall. His legs trembled, and the second scientist was just as paralyzed by the scene. But Frisk shouted at him to take advantage of this opportunity. She pointed at a window, and Azaquiel woke up. He lunged forward, brandishing his horn, and they went through the window… And found themselves falling into the void.

The laboratory was built on a tower overlooking a colony city*. The air whipped his feathers as they fell. He woke when the human on his back pulled his wings with a scream to bring him back to consciousness. His young wings spread with desperate energy, but if he was old enough to fly, he wasn't old enough to carry someone while flying. Nevertheless, this allowed Azaquiel to partially glide to a neighborhood covered with stalls where they crashed.

Azaquiel found himself stunned by the shock; when he regained consciousness, it was to the shouts of merchants, no trace of the child with him. Considering these people just as dangerous as the one who had abducted them, he fled into a maze of alleys and remained hidden there. He realized that every time they came out in their natural form, they attracted attention, they attracted aggression, they were starting to get hungry, they had never hunted. All the energy they had received came directly from the laboratory.

Logically, he began to take this other form; no one was looking at them at that moment. We ignored him… It was perfect, naturally he began wandering for food. The adults were too strong, the other children were always watched. There were still people who wandered like him, those who were too sick, those who found themselves in dark alleys.

The first time wasn't so difficult, and he felt much better when his hunger subsided, but he quickly learned to hide after his hunts. The principle of murder was ridiculous to him; others had the right to kill for food, and so did he by the same logic. He wanted to live.

After a few months of wandering, he had a strange encounter. As he finished absorbing the soul of a homeless person into his birth form, he heard the rustling of clothes. Turning his head, he noticed the presence of an elemental child. The silence lasted a few moments before it growled, preparing to attack before hearing someone approaching. Azaquiel therefore decided to flee by flying across the rooftops.

This encounter remained in his mind, and a few days later, he returned to the alley. The body was no longer at rest, and many people had passed by, but the scent of the little one was more present than the others, showing that he had returned often. Azaquiel decided to wait for its next visit; after all, it would be easy prey, right?

He waited and waited, and after a few hours, he heard it. He bared his fangs, and yet the elemental remained, showing no fear and simply asked:

"Don't be afraid."

What a strange phrase! Wasn't he the one who should be afraid? The child took a step forward:

"My name is Lux…"

He took another step forward and was tackled by the foal, yet his flames remained calm. He repeated:

"Don't be afraid."

He was so calm that Azaquiel calmed down. He took his skeleton form, straddling the elemental, and asked curiously:

"You're not afraid?"

"Not too much."

"You're weird."

"You're the one who eats people, I should be the one saying that."

Azaquiel stepped back and Lux stood up:

"So what's your name?"

_ I…"

Helvetica

_ Azaquiel…

_ Funny name… Why do you eat people?

_ Why do you eat meat?

_ Touché…

_ Why aren't you afraid?

_ Why are you so suspicious?

The two children judged each other. Azaquiel was now withdrawing, watching with clenched fists, and yet he… enjoyed this interaction.

Lux was elementary strange; he returned to the alley several times, and it became a sort of rendezvous between them when each was free. Little by little, Azaquiel began to become aware, to understand that young people shouldn't be killed, just as he hadn't wanted to be kidnapped. But he didn't have the strength to really choose his prey, unless he found a way to get some… he began to push deeper and deeper into the confines of Luxtalesw, the black neighborhoods, where there were only traffickers and thugs ruled by a growing mafia.

One could only imagine the henchman's surprise when a child asked to be part of the next clandestine arena*, because he was starving. But after all, why not?

It was just easy fodder, filling the arena with people who wouldn't have volunteered.

A bigger surprise came when the child survived after devouring some of the participants. After that, the henchman brought Azaquiel directly before the Boss.* Faced with the immense stature of the shark monster,

Azaquiel bared his fangs. Was he going to be locked up again?

While he was thinking of all the ways to escape, the Boss told him he was hired. The term went over his head, but the conditions were explained to him.

He was allowed to eat in the arenas, and from the people they gave him, but no more. He wouldn't be allowed to kill or talk about his organization. In exchange, he would be protected by the Family and receive a small portion of the winnings to start.

Money was something he didn't care about, but he understood that he would be able to feed himself, be housed, and clothed. That was enough for him; he simply asked for one thing: that the initials engraved in his neck be removed.

H.N.W.D

Unfortunately, since the engraving was too deep, he was given a tattoo instead, almost as deep in his bones as the engraving. Not a word passed the child's lips during the entire engraving, and he silently endured the pain like a branded animal.

Between two arenas, he returned to the alley to speak with Lux, but one day, Lux no longer came. It was almost logical for him to ask for someone to look for him. He had to ask several times, but in the end, he got the address. He paid a visit, startling the poor child in his room when he scratched at his window.

He then learned that Lux would no longer be able to come; he had to take care of the cafe, helping his father, whose health was beginning to fail.

With each visit, the situation seemed to get progressively darker. He understood that money was also at the heart of the problem.

He could earn the money, but he didn't use it. He didn't care about the sums that kept adding up, so he began participating in the arenas to accumulate money. It took him over a year, but he was so proud that night when he brought a card containing more money than he needed. But in the meantime, things had accelerated for Lux, and when Azaquiel came to see him, he had just lost his father, and he didn't know what to do. Lux rejected Azaquiel abruptly. His words were cruel, and the unicorn eventually left, leaving the card behind, but he never returned.

Instead, he continued in the arenas and slowly gained freedom of movement, of hunting, and of his money. He didn't realize how important he had become to the Boss. He was entering adolescence and their stories didn't interest him, so he ended up asking not to have to make arenas for them anymore. And he didn't question whether his request would be granted.

Instead, he began exploring the universes, using the coin* to move from one world to another. The years passed, and he became an adult who had learned to play with masks and emotions. He trusted no one, even those who were by his side, even Lux, who had finally crossed paths with him again. The elemental had tried to reconnect, to apologize, but Azaquiel remained unmoved. Sometimes he came to his bar, but it was more of a hunting ground.

And then one day, he met a Papyrus* passing through Luxtale. A flirtation, a little one-night stand he hadn't given much thought to, and yet a new encounter, a fortuitous fate, little by little, even though Azaquiel was charming, Papyrus managed to break through Azaquiel's defenses. It had taken years, years during which Azaquiel had finally given his full trust, he had even planned to propose.

But Papyrus's brother had sensed that something was wrong with Azaquiel, he had tried to warn his brother without success. So he had waited, he had looked for evidence, and he had contacted the right people.

It should have been a normal day, and yet everything changed. Azaquiel found himself arrested. As he struggled, he took his natural form to kill the guards… And he froze when he saw Papyrus's horrified expression.

In one second, he was bombarded with tranquilizer darts and lost consciousness, realizing he had been betrayed.

Locked in a cell specially designed for him, forced to assume his skeletal form and wear a muzzle like a common wild animal, his anger boiled over.

The last thing Azaquiel expected was to be freed, no, to be helped to escape, and especially not from a skeleton who, despite his unfamiliar face, recognized that scent immediately.

A scent he had only smelled once.

His brother.

Elceifer

As he tore off his bonds, dragging him with him, Azaquiel wondered how he had found him, how he had ended up with such a body.

Once he had escaped from the detention center, Elceifer offered to help him get revenge.

"Why?"

"Because you are my Mark."

It was a term Azaquiel would understand far too late.

Azaquiel had accepted revenge; he had returned to where he lived in the middle of the night.

He had slipped into the bedroom, climbed onto the bed, and even though the pain in his chest was excruciating, the anger faded when he saw his beloved sleeping.

And then he opened his eye sockets, staring at him first with surprise, then a mixture of pain and anger.

"If you want to kill me, do it quickly."

"Is that what you think of me?"

He didn't answer, closing his eye sockets. Azaquiel got out of bed.

"I would never hurt you."

Then he left the room through the open bay window and joined Elceifer perched on a nearby roof. An argument broke out between them. His brother wanted him to kill him, to get rid of him; if he didn't, he would do it himself. Neither wanted to give up; they eventually returned to their natural forms. Elceifer, unlike Azaquiel, was bigger, more powerful. It was clear that Azaquiel wouldn't win, and yet he tried. The two beasts began to fight, eventually ignoring their whereabouts, waking the neighborhood. The authorities were alerted when Elceifer at one point knocked Azaquiel down before flying toward the apartment, breaking the window with his wings spread out, swollen with rage.

Azaquiel appeared as his brother was about to charge, the two beasts rolled in a torrent of feathers and fur, shattering the walls and furniture. Azaquiel managed to pull Elceifer out of the apartment, forcing his brother to engage in a dogfight.

They were unaware of the arrival of the authorities, nor of the weapons pointed at them. Weapons specialized in eradicating the most vindictive species. The shot rang out, the bullet pierced Azaquiel's body with deadly precision. His body fell as Elceifer slowed his fall to the ground. He then threw himself at the one who had shot his younger brother, knowing full well it was the worst thing to do.

Azaquiel closed his eyes, hearing less and less, a slow, cold calm, as he felt his hunger subsiding. He barely felt hands grasp his snout, nor saw a call out to him; he simply sank into darkness as his body transformed into the worst magic and dispersed into the air. His soul was now waiting in a dark environment.

Arc 2 (Ongoing)

When Reaper arrived to reap him, Azaquiel regained consciousness, his unconsciousness having reverted to a skeleton. He looked at the outstretched hand in silence, before slowly raising his own. Before contact was made, there was a crackling sound. The reaper's expression deepened as he gripped his scythe.

"Cheater"

It was then that he realized his code was being reinserted; someone was bringing him back to life. He reached out to Reaper.

"No, wait, I-!"

It was too late; amidst a crackle of code, he disappeared and found himself in an alleyway.

He was back alive, several months after his death, which had passed in mere seconds with the god of death.

He realized that from the beginning, his freedom hadn't belonged to him. Echo had never lost him; he had simply let him have fun outside, but he still belonged to him.

He didn't know what to do anymore, he didn't know where to go, and yet instinctively, his steps took him to Lux's bar and restaurant. When the Elemental saw him walking through the door alive, he dropped the glass he was cleaning before rushing towards him. At first, Azaquiel tried to make fun of him, but Lux looked at him seriously.

"Tell me the truth."

Azaquiel broke down. He told him everything, and the whole time, Lux listened to him. The unicorn still couldn't come back, so for the first few days, he stayed at his place. Then he went back home, intending to finish this story, but the apartment was almost empty, full of boxes, natural dust, and the smell of Papyrus was slowly fading. He searched every box in his smallest hiding place, but he couldn't find the Coin. This surely meant that Papyrus had returned to his original world.

Azaquiel then began a troubled period of mourning, mourning for a life, mourning for his brother. He realized he had so completely rejected his natural form that he felt like he had two identities. This caused him many crises where he would ask Lux or his boss to re-emerge him until he calmed down. During these crises, he was nothing more than a raging beast struggling in a room covered in scratches and cracks.

Then there were other times when he no longer wanted to eat, no longer move, no longer fight, and yet this small circle of close friends was ready to help and vibrated whether he wanted it or not. During his periods of confinement, it was more often Lux who came to air out the apartment and take care of him. It was also he who pushed Azaquiel to move out, to leave all the furniture, to wipe the slate clean of the past.

In a new environment and with the support of those he hadn't trusted, Azaquiel slowly began to recover. He began going out again, and began hunting on his own. He occasionally visited arenas, and his situation improved; he often took the time to assume his natural form at home or outside the colony*.

He hadn't forgotten his revenge, though; he had received a Hate Arrow as a prize from one of the arenas. Since he couldn't access his Aus without the arrow, he simply hung it up at home for D-Day.

One day, like so many others, Azaquiel accidentally made his first portal. Brutally, he was sucked in with a violence that strained his bones, and found himself ejected with the same violence onto unfamiliar ground.

This world was his homeworld, and as he stood up, he saw two people staring at him curiously. It was hard to tell which was the demon and which was the angel. The woman smiled broadly.

"You're back? I can't believe it! What a strange body."

She cupped his face like a child's, while the man smiled.

"Chara, calm down, you can see he doesn't remember."

"Aww, I hope he's the same, otherwise it'll be boring."

She let go of him, and the demon slowly slid its wing behind him.

"I'll tell you everything, old friend."

And that's how Azaquiel learned of his origins, learned of his past, guardian of the Orb? Here it was strange, he didn't feel hunger, he absorbed energy directly from a greater source.

The Orb, unbearable since its return, crossed the heavens to hell to join him, and Azaquiel understood that this source of nourishment came from the Orb at his side.

He remained in the universe for a while before wishing to return. At first disappointed to learn that no one could make a portal here, the Frisk simply told him that if he had come by making one, he could make another. A grimace, a laugh. But he had nothing to lose, so he trained, because thanks to the orb, he had an unlimited supply of energy and shouldn't think about his survival.

His raw portals were too dangerous; they were so powerful that they could fool his bones. So he trained himself to create layers to mitigate the absorption power. After much work, he was finally able to generate one. He said his goodbyes to the strange duo, leaving the orb in its original state, and returned to Luxtale.

Since then, his daily life has become stable again. Except for one thing: he began to feel himself being watched, and to notice objects moving around his house. But there was no trace of odor, no residue. This was clearly not Echo's style. One day, he found a bouquet of red fairies* at home; fortunately, he hadn't inhaled any and immediately left the apartment. With a little help from his boss, he moved to a more secure apartment.

And yet, he felt something was wrong, but it was as if the entity that was haunting him didn't exist. Once, he found a small screen on his bed and recognized it immediately; the box was the one he had bought with the ring for Papyrus. He had immediately thrown the box away. But it had reappeared under his bed with the utmost discretion.

Because in the end, even if he had stopped thinking about his revenge,

Something had already taken revenge, and it had caused irreversible damage. Something uncontrollable…

..............................................................................................................................

Glossary:

Shinetale: is an AU about which I wrote (an old) story, available on my accounts. To better understand the history of this AU, I recommend reading it.

The Orb: literally the power of a creator personified in the universe. The person who uses it, other than the guardian, will end up consumed by the Orb.

Closed Multiverse: A multiverse that has no current connection to the others.

Nexus: If a multiverse contains universes, the Nexus contains Multiverses. There, the data is in a state of simplification bordering on "Perfection," a space filled with a luminous void, with code cubes changing from other cubes in measured silence.

The Spirit: who guided Azaquiel's soul is an old Oc who has no recent profile.

Unicorn: See true form profile.

EchO is one of my two main Gasters; both are linked to a majority of universe-related stories in my fandom space. EchO is indeed far from a good person, obsessed with the single variant among thousands of failures.

Colony: A colony is a cluster of erased/corrupted/incomplete universe codes that gathers to form an island in the void. Most won't reach the size of a large island, but in the case of Luxtale, which possesses a unique energy source, this colony reached the size of a megalopolis by the end of Arc 2. When you step outside the boundaries of a colony, there is only emptiness, no sky. Luxtale generates the illusion of a sky for the comfort of its inhabitants.

Arena: Arenas in Luxtale are legion. They are not places like Roman arenas, but rather teleportation points to universes where open spaces are generated for combat and survival. Participants survive for several days by battling each other under various rules. The winner(s) receive a large sum of money or a unique item. Most arenas save their participant's code, so if they die, their code is restored to their original world. Clandestine arenas don't do that; they retrieve random codes and summon random participants. Whether in an abandoned city, a forest, a vast underground, etc., whether it's simply the participants or beasts and others, the arenas are extremely popular and dangerous, broadcast on various channels.

Boss: The boss of the Luxtale mafia will eventually dominate almost the entire Colony. He's a huge, thick, shark-like monster with a closed expression. He quickly becomes attached to Azaquiel, who will be the same age as his son. But unlike his son, who will betray him and be eliminated, Azaquiel, who has no interest in power, will become his successor even though he doesn't want to.

Coin: Azaquiel's legendary coin normally allows one to transcend all laws and do whatever one wishes. He earned it in the only infection arena he'd ever played. The coin, however, has a conscience and is known to play tricks on the wishes granted to it. However, Azaquiel will simply use it to move from universe to universe, which will cause the object to become attached to him. The coin cannot be stolen; it must be given. Unfortunately, Azaquiel will leave it as a hidden gift to Papyrus and will never find it again.

Papyrus: Based on a classic Papyrus, I believe that once on the surface and in an environment that allows for normal development, Papyrus will mature and lose his innocence while retaining his own gentleness.

Exterior of the colony: Luxtale is linked to a variety of universes via different code links. Once the link is strong, you can buy stakes to move from one to another.

Red Fairies: Belonging to a family of magical flowers called "Fairies," Red Fairies are a vibrant scarlet, symbolizing passionate, even obsessive, love. Like all flowers in their family, their pollen can influence species. The Red Fairy is known to drive bestial monsters into a state of rage.

#undertale #aus #digital art #undertale au #utmv #azaquielhnwd #azaquiel art #azaquiel sans #lmao i will never rewrite IT AGAIN #No way someone will read everything #at least its done #Luxtale Colony

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