Re: The Grand Battle [Final Round: The Subconscious!]
06-09-2010, 06:24 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Aryogaton.
Normally, Aeon would have taken a moment to consider the situation and weigh all alternatives before making any decision. However, when faced with three corporealized images of his own guilt, there was no time for thought. Aeon grabbed the bomb and leapt out of the way, narrowly dodging one of Alcarith's Burgund Shards. He attempted to make for the nearest doorway, but was quickly backed into a wall and surrounded.
Aeon looked at the bomb in his hands. The timer seemed to read a formless amalgamation of numbers, giving a completely arbitrary time to detonation. He looked at the three images surrounding him, each with a look of vengeance of varying degrees on their face. There was little time to act, and the only option seemed to be to attempt to pass the bomb onto one of the three, attempt to flee, and hope that it detonates at the preferred time. Yes, that seems to be the best course of action. It would be using the bomb on her again, no less, but so what? These are images. Inanimate. All that matters now is surviving. Nothing can be done to bring Alcarith, Nathan, or Emily back to life, and I simply have to accept that…
Aeon blinked, breaking out of the momentary trance. Nathan lunged with his dagger, and Aeon reacted. The wall behind him quivered and alleviated, allowing Aeon to fall through and escape to the next room. Aeon rose to his feet, and examined the wall again, now perfectly solid. I still retain control over this place. I… almost forgot that. He looked again at the bomb, which he fortunately was not forced to use. I still have it. If I can control aspects of this house, then I might be able to control when the bomb detonates. Maybe… I could simply use it on Eximo, and leave this god-forsaken game. Maybe…
Aeon broke out of his trance again. The bomb seems to be a symbol, like everything else. It… represents my drive to survive, the emotional state that I had when I placed it on Alcarith… I can't let it take over me again. He raised his hand, and a metal hammer appeared in it—here, Aeon didn't need his adaptive tool to do such things. He dropped the bomb on the floor, and brought the hammer down upon it. The bomb was not damaged at all. He hit it harder, still to no effect.
“It doesn't work like that. You should know that by now.†Aeon turned his head sharply to the voice, and saw himself, looking intently upon him. His illusionary self was entirely unscathed, his appearance taken from a time when he first entered the game. The contrast was startling—the real Aeon had the markings of a battle, while the illusionary Aeon was entirely unscathed.
“You can't destroy greed or selfishness. You have to give it up, keep it down, or otherwise suppress it. Forceful regret only strengthens it.â€
“Then what do you suggest I do? You seem to know everything I do, but you're not exhausted from so much fighting.â€
“Leave it. What comes back to bite you are Alcarith and the others, not the bomb.â€
Aeon paused. It seemed that the bomb would not be destroyed by forceful means, and keeping it would risk being controlled by its effect. The clear course of action was to follow his illusionary self's advice. Aeon left through a doorway on the opposite side of the room.
Aeon walked down a bare hallway, assessing his next action. After seeing the stark contrast between him when he first entered the game and now, he had doubts on his own judgment. This was further supported when a bony hand grabbed his throat as he turned a corner. The hand warped and became a bone collar, and Aeon caught the glimpse of a familiar grin before he was thrown off his feet and pinned to the ground.
“Hel-lo there! Haven't seen me in a while, eh? Or have you? With all these weird fake-selves and book-selves and memory-selves I'm starting to lose track! EHEHEHEHA!â€
Before Aeon could even have time to react, he was sharply pulled by the neck. A glimpse revealed that Lutherion had summoned a skeletal steed, and was dragging Aeon behind him with a chain attached to his collar. Lutherion's steed jumped and onto a catwalk, and Aeon landed shortly after, choking but alive due to the abstract effects of the subconscious world. Lutherion dismounted and looked below, where nothing of interest was occurring.
“Amazing, isn't it? How many times have you seen everyone after their death? Just when you think you're finally rid of me I come back! Ha!â€
As Lutherion was beginning his monologue, a winged figure rose from the floor below. Ignoring the oblivious necromancer and his ramblings, Alcarith shifted back to her human form and pointed her Burgund Pistol at Aeon's forehead.
“Quite the reversal of the situation, isn't it? But, not completely, of course. This time, you get to see your murderer, and you get to know exactly why, how, and by whom you got killed. Goodbye, Aeon, and good riddance.â€
“Oh, is this lady bothering you?†Alcarith looked sharply at Lutherion, but altogether too late. Before she could react, Lutherion extended his Wightmaw arm and hit her squarely in the chest, and with a swift motion, eviscerated her. To Aeon's revulsion, Lutherion made her death as painful as possible. Only the reminder of illusion by the dissipation of her image gave Aeon any sort of relief.
“Now where was I? You don't remember? Were you even listening? Fine.†Lutherion assumed a wicked expression on his face. “Let's find that annoying machine then, shall we? HAHAHAHA!†Lutherion remounted his steed and leapt off the catwalk, dragging Aeon behind him.
***
Eximo sped down a hallway, combing its sensors for Aeon's signal, which had seemed to adopt fast and random movements. With the disappearance of another life signal, Eximo would have to find him quickly to avoid future unnecessary and counterproductive conflicts.
“Lifeform Aeon is currently moving at high speeds, overall direction is towards this unit. Sensors suggest that Lifeform Aeon is currently in pursuit of another lifeform.â€
Konka Rar looked at Eximo with an edge of suspicion. If the ever-increasing tremors reverberating throughout the house were any indication, he had a good reason to suspect anything.
***
Aeon's mind was in complete chaos. Lutherion made little regard of any obstacles in his way, and Aeon took the full force of the decision. With his control of the logistics of the conscious, he was able to cushion himself, not enough to make the ordeal any close to painless, but at least enough to avoid breaking a dozen bones with every impact. After feeling as if pulled through a pile of rocks, Aeon at last came to a stop.
“Well hey there! I remember you… you're that old techno-necro-whatchamacalit, the one who specializes in making undead vacuum cleaners or something! You're not a contestant, what are you doing here?!â€
Konka Rar took a moment to make sense of the situation and formulate a reply. “If you must know, I am here to guide Eximo through this last round. Namely, to remind it of its purpose and… encourage it to follow through.â€
“Oh really? Sounds boring.â€
“Then what is your purpose here?â€
“Me? Well I guess you can say I'm doing what you're doing… only I'm doing it to this bag of meat behind me! You could even say… that I'm Aeon's Yin to Eximo's Yang!â€
Konka Rar attempted to force down his disbelief. “That makes no sense whatsoever. We are not even remotely in the same s-â€
Konka Rar stopped, realizing that Lutherion had began laughing past half of his first sentence.
“Sense? Sense?! You're asking me if this makes sense? †Lutherion broke to an enthusiastic laugh. “Tell me, does anything that we've been through up to this point make sense? Does any of this make sense?†Lutherion indicated to the walls surrounding him.
Konka Rar said nothing.
“TELL ME!â€
Again, Konka Rar remained silent.
“No answer?†Lutherion broke into a chuckle. “So… you think that somehow, this place, this… cesspool of an amalgamation of the insanities of one crazed individual, follows some kind of logical or rational pattern? That it follows a set of rules and is consistent and reasonable? Well, I've learned a little secret while you all've been playing out this ‘game'. Nothing, nothing in this universe makes sense. The only thing that is absolutely universal throughout this entire plane of existence is chaos. Pure, sweet, unabridged CHAOS. All you scientific folk ever do is make crackpot theories and funny little predictions and spend your entire lives in search of something that doesn't even exist. Learn to embrace the chaos! That's what the Director and all the other masters of the universe have done. They LOVE CHAOS!â€
“Maybe you're right.â€
Eximo, Konka Rar, and Lutherion paused, and saw Aeon getting to his feet. “Maybe I've been going about this the wrong way. Maybe not. But there is at least something that's certain, something that I've learned through this: I can't control everything. Sure, I've strived for it, maybe even came close to it. But it's never complete. So if I want something done, if I want something to be completed, then I suppose I'll need some help. And help comes best from the other side.â€
The world around them began to shift once more. Wallpaper gave way to stone, doors gave way to arches, and a stairwell appeared at the end of the hall. Soon after, footsteps were heard from opposite the stairwell, and a figure walked in. It was familiar, taking on a shape identical to one already present in the room.
“What's all this noise about?†Konka Rar said, clearly irritated.
Aeon broke free of his collar, and made a break for the stairwell. Welcome home, Eximo.
Normally, Aeon would have taken a moment to consider the situation and weigh all alternatives before making any decision. However, when faced with three corporealized images of his own guilt, there was no time for thought. Aeon grabbed the bomb and leapt out of the way, narrowly dodging one of Alcarith's Burgund Shards. He attempted to make for the nearest doorway, but was quickly backed into a wall and surrounded.
Aeon looked at the bomb in his hands. The timer seemed to read a formless amalgamation of numbers, giving a completely arbitrary time to detonation. He looked at the three images surrounding him, each with a look of vengeance of varying degrees on their face. There was little time to act, and the only option seemed to be to attempt to pass the bomb onto one of the three, attempt to flee, and hope that it detonates at the preferred time. Yes, that seems to be the best course of action. It would be using the bomb on her again, no less, but so what? These are images. Inanimate. All that matters now is surviving. Nothing can be done to bring Alcarith, Nathan, or Emily back to life, and I simply have to accept that…
Aeon blinked, breaking out of the momentary trance. Nathan lunged with his dagger, and Aeon reacted. The wall behind him quivered and alleviated, allowing Aeon to fall through and escape to the next room. Aeon rose to his feet, and examined the wall again, now perfectly solid. I still retain control over this place. I… almost forgot that. He looked again at the bomb, which he fortunately was not forced to use. I still have it. If I can control aspects of this house, then I might be able to control when the bomb detonates. Maybe… I could simply use it on Eximo, and leave this god-forsaken game. Maybe…
Aeon broke out of his trance again. The bomb seems to be a symbol, like everything else. It… represents my drive to survive, the emotional state that I had when I placed it on Alcarith… I can't let it take over me again. He raised his hand, and a metal hammer appeared in it—here, Aeon didn't need his adaptive tool to do such things. He dropped the bomb on the floor, and brought the hammer down upon it. The bomb was not damaged at all. He hit it harder, still to no effect.
“It doesn't work like that. You should know that by now.†Aeon turned his head sharply to the voice, and saw himself, looking intently upon him. His illusionary self was entirely unscathed, his appearance taken from a time when he first entered the game. The contrast was startling—the real Aeon had the markings of a battle, while the illusionary Aeon was entirely unscathed.
“You can't destroy greed or selfishness. You have to give it up, keep it down, or otherwise suppress it. Forceful regret only strengthens it.â€
“Then what do you suggest I do? You seem to know everything I do, but you're not exhausted from so much fighting.â€
“Leave it. What comes back to bite you are Alcarith and the others, not the bomb.â€
Aeon paused. It seemed that the bomb would not be destroyed by forceful means, and keeping it would risk being controlled by its effect. The clear course of action was to follow his illusionary self's advice. Aeon left through a doorway on the opposite side of the room.
Aeon walked down a bare hallway, assessing his next action. After seeing the stark contrast between him when he first entered the game and now, he had doubts on his own judgment. This was further supported when a bony hand grabbed his throat as he turned a corner. The hand warped and became a bone collar, and Aeon caught the glimpse of a familiar grin before he was thrown off his feet and pinned to the ground.
“Hel-lo there! Haven't seen me in a while, eh? Or have you? With all these weird fake-selves and book-selves and memory-selves I'm starting to lose track! EHEHEHEHA!â€
Before Aeon could even have time to react, he was sharply pulled by the neck. A glimpse revealed that Lutherion had summoned a skeletal steed, and was dragging Aeon behind him with a chain attached to his collar. Lutherion's steed jumped and onto a catwalk, and Aeon landed shortly after, choking but alive due to the abstract effects of the subconscious world. Lutherion dismounted and looked below, where nothing of interest was occurring.
“Amazing, isn't it? How many times have you seen everyone after their death? Just when you think you're finally rid of me I come back! Ha!â€
As Lutherion was beginning his monologue, a winged figure rose from the floor below. Ignoring the oblivious necromancer and his ramblings, Alcarith shifted back to her human form and pointed her Burgund Pistol at Aeon's forehead.
“Quite the reversal of the situation, isn't it? But, not completely, of course. This time, you get to see your murderer, and you get to know exactly why, how, and by whom you got killed. Goodbye, Aeon, and good riddance.â€
“Oh, is this lady bothering you?†Alcarith looked sharply at Lutherion, but altogether too late. Before she could react, Lutherion extended his Wightmaw arm and hit her squarely in the chest, and with a swift motion, eviscerated her. To Aeon's revulsion, Lutherion made her death as painful as possible. Only the reminder of illusion by the dissipation of her image gave Aeon any sort of relief.
“Now where was I? You don't remember? Were you even listening? Fine.†Lutherion assumed a wicked expression on his face. “Let's find that annoying machine then, shall we? HAHAHAHA!†Lutherion remounted his steed and leapt off the catwalk, dragging Aeon behind him.
***
Eximo sped down a hallway, combing its sensors for Aeon's signal, which had seemed to adopt fast and random movements. With the disappearance of another life signal, Eximo would have to find him quickly to avoid future unnecessary and counterproductive conflicts.
“Lifeform Aeon is currently moving at high speeds, overall direction is towards this unit. Sensors suggest that Lifeform Aeon is currently in pursuit of another lifeform.â€
Konka Rar looked at Eximo with an edge of suspicion. If the ever-increasing tremors reverberating throughout the house were any indication, he had a good reason to suspect anything.
***
Aeon's mind was in complete chaos. Lutherion made little regard of any obstacles in his way, and Aeon took the full force of the decision. With his control of the logistics of the conscious, he was able to cushion himself, not enough to make the ordeal any close to painless, but at least enough to avoid breaking a dozen bones with every impact. After feeling as if pulled through a pile of rocks, Aeon at last came to a stop.
“Well hey there! I remember you… you're that old techno-necro-whatchamacalit, the one who specializes in making undead vacuum cleaners or something! You're not a contestant, what are you doing here?!â€
Konka Rar took a moment to make sense of the situation and formulate a reply. “If you must know, I am here to guide Eximo through this last round. Namely, to remind it of its purpose and… encourage it to follow through.â€
“Oh really? Sounds boring.â€
“Then what is your purpose here?â€
“Me? Well I guess you can say I'm doing what you're doing… only I'm doing it to this bag of meat behind me! You could even say… that I'm Aeon's Yin to Eximo's Yang!â€
Konka Rar attempted to force down his disbelief. “That makes no sense whatsoever. We are not even remotely in the same s-â€
Konka Rar stopped, realizing that Lutherion had began laughing past half of his first sentence.
“Sense? Sense?! You're asking me if this makes sense? †Lutherion broke to an enthusiastic laugh. “Tell me, does anything that we've been through up to this point make sense? Does any of this make sense?†Lutherion indicated to the walls surrounding him.
Konka Rar said nothing.
“TELL ME!â€
Again, Konka Rar remained silent.
“No answer?†Lutherion broke into a chuckle. “So… you think that somehow, this place, this… cesspool of an amalgamation of the insanities of one crazed individual, follows some kind of logical or rational pattern? That it follows a set of rules and is consistent and reasonable? Well, I've learned a little secret while you all've been playing out this ‘game'. Nothing, nothing in this universe makes sense. The only thing that is absolutely universal throughout this entire plane of existence is chaos. Pure, sweet, unabridged CHAOS. All you scientific folk ever do is make crackpot theories and funny little predictions and spend your entire lives in search of something that doesn't even exist. Learn to embrace the chaos! That's what the Director and all the other masters of the universe have done. They LOVE CHAOS!â€
“Maybe you're right.â€
Eximo, Konka Rar, and Lutherion paused, and saw Aeon getting to his feet. “Maybe I've been going about this the wrong way. Maybe not. But there is at least something that's certain, something that I've learned through this: I can't control everything. Sure, I've strived for it, maybe even came close to it. But it's never complete. So if I want something done, if I want something to be completed, then I suppose I'll need some help. And help comes best from the other side.â€
The world around them began to shift once more. Wallpaper gave way to stone, doors gave way to arches, and a stairwell appeared at the end of the hall. Soon after, footsteps were heard from opposite the stairwell, and a figure walked in. It was familiar, taking on a shape identical to one already present in the room.
“What's all this noise about?†Konka Rar said, clearly irritated.
Aeon broke free of his collar, and made a break for the stairwell. Welcome home, Eximo.