Post by Mr.Chocobo on Aug 14, 2011 10:06:07 GMT -5
The City was bright that night, so long ago.
Its tall retro-steel spires and reflective windows reached far as the eye could see. The City was more of a country, than a city. There was not a single spot on the Mainland that wasnt covered by duracrete or retro-steel.
The mainland covered 3/4ths of the planet, the rest was water.
The Old King Born, as everyone called him lovingly, was in his room. His wife had died 6 years ago. Too long to still be felt in this room, so it felt completely empty.
A small boy was with the old king. This boy, however, seemed different than other children of the Jeru race. This one's skin seemed misty. Not all there.
The Old King led his son, Blade, into a golden room carpeted with rich red. A large silver and gunmetal alter was in the center of the room, EverBrights line the golden, curving walls.
"Why are you taking me into your Sanctum, father?" Said Blade.
The Old King looked down at his son, and put a hand on his head.
"Remember how your beautiful mother died to bring you into this world, little one?"
Blade nodded, and gripped his fathers red and gray robe.
"Well, that happened for a reason. And today, exactly six years later, we will unlock that reason. Show you why you are special."
the Old King explained to his son, whos bright blue eyes twinkled with fear.
Even though he was obviously scared, the boy nodded bravely.
"Good lad. Just remember, this power you will recieve, you must use it for good. To rule your kingdom justly. Do you promise?"
Another nod.
The Old King smiled and hugged his son. The King's long gray beard tickled the childs face.
And the Old King took a finger on the child's hand, and pulled out a small knife.
"Be brave." The King said, and pricked the finger, drawing oddly dark blood.
Blade didn't even wince. The Old King was proud.
"Are you ready? It will be fast."
One final nod, and Blade stiffened in anticipation.
The Old King let the blood drip on the alter. He needed to do this right, else he would lose his son to the Demon of Power, just like he lost his wife.
The blood started to boil.
The Old King started to chant one phrase over and over.
"Let your power become his, O Grand One.
Let your power become his."
After a few minutes, all the EverBright lights suddenly went out.
And a flame erupted from the alter, and the black smokey demon raised from the fire.
"YOU SUMMON ME AGAIN SO FREELY, OLD KING? WHAT NEED OF ME HAVE YOU?" The Demon of Power said. Its voice sounded like a mere whisper, yet was so forceful it could've been a shout.
The Old King fell to one knee. "It has been six years, O Grand One. The time for the joining has come."
The demon's red eyes narrowed.
"YOU STILL WISH TO GO THROUGH WITH IT...? VERY WELL. THE BOY AND I SHALL BE ONE."
And with that, the demon lept at Blade, who stood there, wide eyed.
"Father?" Was the only word he said.
And then the demon was on him, in him, around him. And the tiny body of the boy became obsorbed by the shadows. Wind ripped around the room, and tore at the Old King's face.
"My gods, what have I done?" he said in terror.
And then the EverBrights relit.
Before the old king stood a man, half shadow, half real. You could see his black skin beneith the smokey blackness that swirled around him.
Then Blade turned around to look at his father, blue eyes now twice as bright, and twice as cold.
"Thank you for this lovely birthday present, father. But I'm afraid this creation will do as all good creations do. Turn against its creator." Said Blade.
"No.. But you promised me.." The Old King stuttered.
"That was before I got this... Power!" Blade said simply. His voice became akin to his name, sharp as a blade. Like the hiss of a sword through air.
"No.. no... no... not my son too... you corrupted my son! You bastard demon! NO!" The Old King yelled and charged at Blade.
Blade snapped his fingers and his father was lifted into the air.
"Hmm. Interesting," Blade said.
Blade snapped his fingers again and his father was cut by shadows, like a million razor blades buzzing around him.
The body of the old king fell to the ground, limp. A tear was on the side of the old man's face.
"Now I am king, it would seem."
Blade wished there was a robe around here for him to wear... his shadowy skin would scare most people.
And then fibers from the rug started pulling away, becoming black, and forming together. Withing a minute, there was a black, hooded robe hanging in the air.
Blade slipped it on, flipped up the hood, and let the darkness in him conceil everything but his glowing blue eyes.
Two Palace Guards entered. They were the Old King's personal favorites, and close friends.
"My lord." They bowed.
Blade was shocked.
"You recognise me?" He hissed.
The Guard on the left nodded briskly.
"The Old King told us that whatever happened, what you would become would be our King."
Blade was pleased.
"Then I accept the possition whole-heartedly."
"Long live King Blade Born! Long live the king!" The Guards chanted.
Blade smiled.
____________________________________________________
278 years later
____________________________________________________
Xeir opened his eyes.
And looked out of the smoking hole that was his bedroom.
Or, used to be.
He looked around. Where was his wife?
And his children?
His apartment smelled of burnt flesh.
"Oh." Xeir said. His deep voice rolled over the ash filled room.
The Military police had done their job.
Xeir stood and walked to the gaping hole in the wall where his cowering family used to be.
All that was left was a hand.
A crisp, burnt hand. He could tell it was his wifes, because the wedding ring he'd saved up for was on one of the fingers.
He felt nothing. He was sure once the feelings came crashing down, he would probably break.
He bent down and pulled the ring off of the ring finger of the burnt hand, and slipped it on his real pinky. No way it'd fit on his robotic hand. His wife always had such small hands... where as Xeir was the biggest and tallest Jeru on record. She was a beautiful woman, when she was alive.
So were his children. His son and daughter.
'She's dead. They're dead.' The thought hit him.
He fell to the ground, and wept.
Several house later, he thought of something.
And stopped crying. His job. He was an Advanced Cybernetics Engineer. If he couldn't use that to his advantage, he a fool.
When he got to his work place, he went straight to the Small Works department.
"What the hell are you do.... Why are you covered in dust?" one of his coworkers asked, also a Jeru.
"Families dead, MP's. Where are the nanites I was working on?"
He opened the box he used for work and pulled out a bottle, labled "Mark 7 nanites".
Xeir simply filled a few syringes until the bottles were empty.
"Help me with this, Pol-X."
Pol-X was droid that Xeir had built.
Xeir layed out on a table he used for constructing robots, and Pol-X gripped the 3 large syringes full of nanites for human/jeru enhancement in its spindly arms.
"When I say go, inject me." Xeir instructed him.
Xeir almost expected to robot to scold him, or warn him of the dangers. Even if the robot was capable of responding, it was programmed for science. Not to be his wife.
His wife.
"Go."
Then, the robot injected him, and the nanites started doing their work. Coating his muscles, super charging his nerves, and basically amplifying every last fiber of him.
And it was the most painful thing he had ever experianced. He screamed as the nanites coated his eyes in a black film. He couldn't see, and couldn't hear either, as the nanites were on his eardrums now.
Then it was over. His eyes cleared as the nanites became clear, like a contact.
He got up off the table, he felt as light as a feather. It was probably just the nanites that coated his insides, enhancing his movements.
He grabbed the swordcane that was by his work desk, it'd been a present from his wife.
"Hmm. Never actually needed this thing before."
Xeir said as he left the building.
"So begins my adventure."
Its tall retro-steel spires and reflective windows reached far as the eye could see. The City was more of a country, than a city. There was not a single spot on the Mainland that wasnt covered by duracrete or retro-steel.
The mainland covered 3/4ths of the planet, the rest was water.
The Old King Born, as everyone called him lovingly, was in his room. His wife had died 6 years ago. Too long to still be felt in this room, so it felt completely empty.
A small boy was with the old king. This boy, however, seemed different than other children of the Jeru race. This one's skin seemed misty. Not all there.
The Old King led his son, Blade, into a golden room carpeted with rich red. A large silver and gunmetal alter was in the center of the room, EverBrights line the golden, curving walls.
"Why are you taking me into your Sanctum, father?" Said Blade.
The Old King looked down at his son, and put a hand on his head.
"Remember how your beautiful mother died to bring you into this world, little one?"
Blade nodded, and gripped his fathers red and gray robe.
"Well, that happened for a reason. And today, exactly six years later, we will unlock that reason. Show you why you are special."
the Old King explained to his son, whos bright blue eyes twinkled with fear.
Even though he was obviously scared, the boy nodded bravely.
"Good lad. Just remember, this power you will recieve, you must use it for good. To rule your kingdom justly. Do you promise?"
Another nod.
The Old King smiled and hugged his son. The King's long gray beard tickled the childs face.
And the Old King took a finger on the child's hand, and pulled out a small knife.
"Be brave." The King said, and pricked the finger, drawing oddly dark blood.
Blade didn't even wince. The Old King was proud.
"Are you ready? It will be fast."
One final nod, and Blade stiffened in anticipation.
The Old King let the blood drip on the alter. He needed to do this right, else he would lose his son to the Demon of Power, just like he lost his wife.
The blood started to boil.
The Old King started to chant one phrase over and over.
"Let your power become his, O Grand One.
Let your power become his."
After a few minutes, all the EverBright lights suddenly went out.
And a flame erupted from the alter, and the black smokey demon raised from the fire.
"YOU SUMMON ME AGAIN SO FREELY, OLD KING? WHAT NEED OF ME HAVE YOU?" The Demon of Power said. Its voice sounded like a mere whisper, yet was so forceful it could've been a shout.
The Old King fell to one knee. "It has been six years, O Grand One. The time for the joining has come."
The demon's red eyes narrowed.
"YOU STILL WISH TO GO THROUGH WITH IT...? VERY WELL. THE BOY AND I SHALL BE ONE."
And with that, the demon lept at Blade, who stood there, wide eyed.
"Father?" Was the only word he said.
And then the demon was on him, in him, around him. And the tiny body of the boy became obsorbed by the shadows. Wind ripped around the room, and tore at the Old King's face.
"My gods, what have I done?" he said in terror.
And then the EverBrights relit.
Before the old king stood a man, half shadow, half real. You could see his black skin beneith the smokey blackness that swirled around him.
Then Blade turned around to look at his father, blue eyes now twice as bright, and twice as cold.
"Thank you for this lovely birthday present, father. But I'm afraid this creation will do as all good creations do. Turn against its creator." Said Blade.
"No.. But you promised me.." The Old King stuttered.
"That was before I got this... Power!" Blade said simply. His voice became akin to his name, sharp as a blade. Like the hiss of a sword through air.
"No.. no... no... not my son too... you corrupted my son! You bastard demon! NO!" The Old King yelled and charged at Blade.
Blade snapped his fingers and his father was lifted into the air.
"Hmm. Interesting," Blade said.
Blade snapped his fingers again and his father was cut by shadows, like a million razor blades buzzing around him.
The body of the old king fell to the ground, limp. A tear was on the side of the old man's face.
"Now I am king, it would seem."
Blade wished there was a robe around here for him to wear... his shadowy skin would scare most people.
And then fibers from the rug started pulling away, becoming black, and forming together. Withing a minute, there was a black, hooded robe hanging in the air.
Blade slipped it on, flipped up the hood, and let the darkness in him conceil everything but his glowing blue eyes.
Two Palace Guards entered. They were the Old King's personal favorites, and close friends.
"My lord." They bowed.
Blade was shocked.
"You recognise me?" He hissed.
The Guard on the left nodded briskly.
"The Old King told us that whatever happened, what you would become would be our King."
Blade was pleased.
"Then I accept the possition whole-heartedly."
"Long live King Blade Born! Long live the king!" The Guards chanted.
Blade smiled.
____________________________________________________
278 years later
____________________________________________________
Xeir opened his eyes.
And looked out of the smoking hole that was his bedroom.
Or, used to be.
He looked around. Where was his wife?
And his children?
His apartment smelled of burnt flesh.
"Oh." Xeir said. His deep voice rolled over the ash filled room.
The Military police had done their job.
Xeir stood and walked to the gaping hole in the wall where his cowering family used to be.
All that was left was a hand.
A crisp, burnt hand. He could tell it was his wifes, because the wedding ring he'd saved up for was on one of the fingers.
He felt nothing. He was sure once the feelings came crashing down, he would probably break.
He bent down and pulled the ring off of the ring finger of the burnt hand, and slipped it on his real pinky. No way it'd fit on his robotic hand. His wife always had such small hands... where as Xeir was the biggest and tallest Jeru on record. She was a beautiful woman, when she was alive.
So were his children. His son and daughter.
'She's dead. They're dead.' The thought hit him.
He fell to the ground, and wept.
Several house later, he thought of something.
And stopped crying. His job. He was an Advanced Cybernetics Engineer. If he couldn't use that to his advantage, he a fool.
When he got to his work place, he went straight to the Small Works department.
"What the hell are you do.... Why are you covered in dust?" one of his coworkers asked, also a Jeru.
"Families dead, MP's. Where are the nanites I was working on?"
He opened the box he used for work and pulled out a bottle, labled "Mark 7 nanites".
Xeir simply filled a few syringes until the bottles were empty.
"Help me with this, Pol-X."
Pol-X was droid that Xeir had built.
Xeir layed out on a table he used for constructing robots, and Pol-X gripped the 3 large syringes full of nanites for human/jeru enhancement in its spindly arms.
"When I say go, inject me." Xeir instructed him.
Xeir almost expected to robot to scold him, or warn him of the dangers. Even if the robot was capable of responding, it was programmed for science. Not to be his wife.
His wife.
"Go."
Then, the robot injected him, and the nanites started doing their work. Coating his muscles, super charging his nerves, and basically amplifying every last fiber of him.
And it was the most painful thing he had ever experianced. He screamed as the nanites coated his eyes in a black film. He couldn't see, and couldn't hear either, as the nanites were on his eardrums now.
Then it was over. His eyes cleared as the nanites became clear, like a contact.
He got up off the table, he felt as light as a feather. It was probably just the nanites that coated his insides, enhancing his movements.
He grabbed the swordcane that was by his work desk, it'd been a present from his wife.
"Hmm. Never actually needed this thing before."
Xeir said as he left the building.
"So begins my adventure."
