The two boys found themselves being awoken by their mentor at the very early morning of dawn. The sun only showed hints of rising, and thr crisp cold winter bite of the air could be felt on the two. Trabia's winters were always brutal, and Kalen could only be grateful that he could have a taste of the summer weather before fall settled in. He would need to be ready for the coming winter. The most brutal of time here in Trabia.
The two were given a nice early morning breakfast, a big meal surprisingly in comparison to the dinner they had last night. Both had two large cuts of Behemoth Steak, four large chocobo eggs and separated between a plate of potatoes, fried. This was necessary, and he prefaced that they eat their large meal, for they would be not stopping their travel for a majority of the day. It was going to be a long treck through the forest, and they couldn't be allowed to stop for any reason. The Lunar cry had wrought the most dangerous of beasts into the heart of the forests, and getting stuck in the forest at night was a proven death sentence that Makoto was expressively warned, never to do until he tamed his own monster.
After their meal, their travels began, Varitas leading the boys across miles and miles worth of travel. Almost immediately, Kalen could see the dangers present in this place. Right at the borders of the forest, he could see hundreds and hundreds of tombstones. They coated the valley, almost eerily fencing off the borders of the forest, only leaving an opening to one entrance into it. A clear warning and message stated right here. Death was only around the corner.
"No matter how strong you are, no matter how brave you are, this forest will take your life without mercy. Do not ever enter this forest by yourself, and most of all, do not leave the trail. Because of the Lunar cry, it's practially mandatory for A ranked SeeDs to traverse with students on training missions. Every monster we encounter has the capacity of transforming into a Boss monster. In which case, only a full squad of Elite ranked SeeDs can beat them. More often than not, this is the reason why graves are filled here. So, when I tell you to run, flee, abandon me, or each other, I don't want you to question it. I don't want you to be brave, or to fight to save me or each other. It is my responsibility to keep you two alive, so, if such a monster comes our way, I will deal with it, and you two must return to camp. Follow the trail. And then, Makoto, you will take Kalen to the Garden, and inform our headmaster of what occurred."
He looked to the boys, waiting for their responses, as well as their assurance that they would do as he said without question. He had to really put it in Kalen's head that rushing head first into combat, taking unecessary damage, would result in his death. Makoto had already had this information beaten into him at the Garden, and by Varitas himself. There were multiple times where they had to abandon missions just because of monsters evolving mid fight. This often lead to many regions being forced into quarantine zones to avoid tragedies. This is why the prospect of monster taming was necessary. To combat the lunar cry, one needed to find a means to coexist with these ever evolving creatures, now more than ever.
Status: IT. IS. COLD. Location: Trabian Wasteland Company: Varitas, Makoto Thoughts: No Place Like Home Weapons: Hrunting ll Thunder Rose Magic: Scan (1) Crystal Stock: Earth (x10)
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Kiss me good-bye, love's memory Follow your heart and find your destiny Won't shed a tear, for love's mortality For you put the dream in my reality
All Kalen could do was shiver, his breathing illustrated with the mist conjuring itself in front of his face and past with each and every step. The momentary fire and warm meals that they had enjoyed seemed like a far and distant memory, the change of atmosphere and environment causing those recent moments to be looked upon with a high sense of nostalgia. There would be no use complaining, even if for a moment Kalen wished he was back in UNITA, for he was here and knew there was no turning back. His prayers were the only thing that would reach out of this frozen hellscape, errant thoughts towards his sisters, mother, and father. I won’t die out here.. That was the only sentence that he repeated to himself ad nauseum. All that the Rieko youth could do was shiver and trudge on, holding onto that sentiment to drive him successfully through whatever would be coming towards them.
Varitas’ words were heeded in their importance. There could be no experimenting in combat here. There was no room for error. It was kill or be killed and the whole point of this venture was to be the kill and not le killed. Smart and scientific fighting, do what you know. Rely on the basics. Rely on yourself. Cold blue eyes looked upward towards Varitas’ back as he led the way and nodded in agreement, having been silent the whole trip before allowing a glance towards Makoto. The advise to speak less had been heard and Kalen would more or less resemble a mute at this point, a sight that would baffle Nyale and Rem if they had the chance to witness it.
Keep moving forward. Stick to the path. Run when told.
It would be easier said than done, Kalen feared.
Guardian Force: G...Gilgamesh? Status: O'HO, I HAVE SOMETHING Spells 0
Status: Prepared. Location: The Great Valley of Monsters Spells:
Water (x3), Blizzard (x3), Blind (x3), Cure (x3), Esuna (x1)
____________________________________________________ Makoto's breakfast preparations were somewhat different than Kalen's. While he ate the majority of the meal, he cut one of the behemoth steaks into cubes and doused it into some of the potatoes and slapped a bit of sake on top to hide the smell. Then he wrapped it up tight in packaging to take with him. A good morning preparation was absolutely fine, but with little stopping refueling along the way wouldn't hurt too much. And if his preparation went properly, it wouldn't have enough scent to attract creatures above their own native scents.
"Perhaps for you youngin's, but for the Lord of the Revelry, this would be little more than a walk in the park! Perhaps you should chide young Kalen to release Gilgamesh. The boy could use a good lesson." The young samurai wanted to roll his eyes at the supernatural samurai, however he instead would focus on the dangers of the travel. Catching Kalen's glance, he gave the blonde a reassuring nod.
"It is not so bad. Serenity and patience. Guides unerringly." ____________________________________________________
Posted: Tue Feb 04, 2025 11:51 am
With their acknowledgement, Varitas began their journey through the forest, guiding them through trails and passes that were barely noticeable if not for the trained eye. The winter tundra had easily hid a majority of the path features, and it was mostly due to memory alone that Varitas knew the path ahead of them. Makoto, having previously traversed the pass with his mentor, knew of the real danger that lied ahead of them. The cursed forest. This place was notoriously haunted with the spirits of monsters lingering. Those among the spirits, were the tonberry, very much like ushers into the afterlife, leading karma to all. Unlike the tonberry that inhabited the ruins of Centra, these tonberry dawned black coats, and their usual green skin, was replaced with a charcoal black and glowing eyes. Their habitat often revolved around the mass burial gravesites of ancient Trabian natives, only recently showing up after Trabia Garden managed to bury all of their dead in various regions, unaware that th result of that would be what Makoto would come to know as Cursed Gravesites.
One such site was nearby, and a passage that required them to go through. Although the cursed gravesites were dangerous, the gravekeeper tonberries often remained dosile during the day when spirits slept. It was only during the nights where things got bad. Spirits would surface, and both tonberries and spirits alike would wage combat, and any unfortunate passerby would be caught up in the midst of their battle. In a way, the tonberry here were guardians, but that did not mean they appreciated human presence. Quite the contrary in fact. They showed no hesitation in the treatment of humans as they would a spirit at night, and the spirits that surfaced were wretched, and hostile towards all life. It was only during the full moons that hell was brought to earth in these gravesights. That was when all monsters were active the most in Trabia, as if the moon itself was their battle flag gesturing them to go to war upon all life in Trabia.
This was the daily life of a Trabian. A place where even the islands closes to heaven and hell, could not hold a candle to when it came to unpredictability in the types of monsters that would surface here. With rapid evolution, this environment allowed monsters to develop in ways that they hadn't seen before. New measures needed to put them down. New weaknesses, and immunities; on top of the possibility of boss monsters spawning in at a moment's notice.
"When the trees start to rot, and the ground no longer holds life, you have reached a burial ground. Under no circumstances are you to visit these sites during the night, less you wish to die a horrible death. The tonberry here will leave you be during the day. That is why daylight is important to travel. It is your only time where movement is allowed. Hunting at night is a death sentence. Better to bunker up, protect our shelter, and worse case scenario, flee back to the Garden." He spoke out, mainly to Kalen as they were arriving at the burial grounds. Immediately the group could see rotted trees, desolate land, and in the distance, cloaked figures meandering their way around old tombstones carrying ethereal flame lanterns. Unlike the normal orange flames of the centra tonberry, the gravekeeper tonberry dawn a white flame, with the gasping expression of an eyeless person's face in the flame.
"There they are. Do not engage with them. Just walk past them, and they won't bother us... if we're lucky." Of course, to expect a tonberry to act in a certain manner was pointless. The Tonberry were sentient beings, capable of their own heirarchy. Whatever curiosities or desires they had were their own, and each one was different from the other in such things. One could only hope that they weren't too curious about them.
Status: IT. IS. COLD. Location: Trabian Wasteland Company: Varitas, Makoto Thoughts: No Place Like Home Weapons: Hrunting ll Thunder Rose Magic: Scan (1) Crystal Stock: Earth (x10)
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Kiss me good-bye, love's memory Follow your heart and find your destiny Won't shed a tear, for love's mortality For you put the dream in my reality
Kalen would not budge in his move towards silence, embracing what Makoto said with a slow nod and apprehensive smile whilst he listened to Varitas. The silence was forcing Kalen to think, and reflect, on his actions of the past and what he wanted in the future. Too many thoughts, and not enough time or people to sit and truly discuss it with. Makoto was not the kind of person you sat and chatted with, and Varitas was the cool, cold uncle that you only would ask the most important things. All that Kalen thought of was his home, and it brought an ache to his heart as he thought about his parents, all of them, and his siblings. All that could be done was a private prayer to whatever God would answer that they were okay, but he had to focus on the now.
Or Die.
Gilgamesh had been slightly more quiet since the meeting with Makoto's guardian force, perhaps facing his own brand of introspection, but he would always throw a verse or thought toward Kalen's internal monologue to try and support or bolster here and there. Perhaps he too was surprised and felt admonished by the other presences that spoke to them like baby deer, apt and painful the description may be. The only thing that kept those thoughts from loitering in the constant of Kalen's brain was the fact they were in a cold wasteland with, as Varitas proclaimed, tonberries. The description of the environment were facts that he would remember, and honestly things that he had implemented already in his travels noticing the attitude of monsters in the day and night. The only times that he had traveled at night had been when there was crossing through Galbadian territories, having been told numerous times to not be seen by Galbadian forces. Being the kid of three major political figures and godson to another was, well, precarious at its worst.
The notes that Varitas provided were not disregarded, Kalen only nodding to illustrate that it was understood. Even as they came to the burial grounds, Kalen slowly kept his nerves at bay, refusing to let the fear of the tonberries take over his actions and breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Do not look at them, look forward. Hopefully, like Varitas said, they would be ignored, Kalen followed closely in Varitas' footsteps while keeping his wits about him.
"We are in the belly of the beast, boy. Don't let the emotions get the best of you. They're monsters, just be on your guard." Gilgamesh's voice kept Kalen focused, his jaw tightening at the gentle and non boisterous words that surprisingly came from the Guardian Force. "Their blades are dangerous but they have short reach, kid. Just stay on your guard."
Guardian Force: G...Gilgamesh? Status: O'HO, I HAVE SOMETHING Spells 0
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Posted: Wed Feb 12, 2025 10:58 am
Makoto Akihiro Ishikawa
Status: In the Cold. Location: Trailing Sensei. Spells:
Water (x3), Blizzard (x3), Blind (x3), Cure (x3), Esuna (x1)
____________________________________________________ "They can be Swordsmen. Blades alight at night whirling. Maybe Samurai."
A kindly word of warning for Kalen. A moment of disinformation or surprise can be the difference of life out here in the wilds, and he would at least try to teach his compatriot enough to lessen those odds. It may not have meant to be his role, but sometimes you can stray out of your lane.
Makoto let his hand grip the hilt of his blade just in case. While his mentor was correct in that the best methodology for this was essentially live and let live, monsters weren't something you could trust. Hunger, bloodlust, boredom, though on average it should be a peaceful passing, he felt it in the back of his mind to be prepared. Just in case.
His gaze was burning a hole in the back of Varitas. These reminders and descriptions seemed a bit too painfully obvious for him now, but he wondered if this was what made a good mentor. To remember to explain what is to the advanced as agonizingly dull and basic. Breaking the boring effect on Varitas, his eyes flickered over to the downcast Kalen. He hoped the guy would keep his nerves, that his confidence would grow quickly enough to keep up with the nature of Trabia. ____________________________________________________
Traversing through the cursed grounds appeared to go off without a hitch. The Tonberry appeared to be more focused on checking the tombstones than they did the group that passed on by. Varitas noticeably took different paths around the Tonberries that walked in their direction, avoiding getting within their pathway less they wanted to gain its attention. Most of them looked to be staring at the ground, not bothering to look up as they walked, only focusing on their objects of obsession. As long as the other two did not step in their way, they would be fine.
Once the ordeal had passed, their venture deeper into the mountainous valley finally brought them to their target of focus. Crouching down low, the boys would see their mentor examining tracks, some branches torn off, claw slash marks across bark on the trees, showing it was a large monster. Looking back to the two, he gave them a serious expression. "Ready your weapons. Our target is close by." He warned as he readied his blade, crouching down. "Pay attention to the trees above you, it could be hiding around here."
""
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Posted: Wed Jul 02, 2025 3:13 am
┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓ ▌ＡＤＥＬ ▌The Queen of Ruin ┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛ ⤷ ???: [∞] | Location: [???] | Mood: Immutable | Music: “The World That Should Have Been”
Varitas was right. The Great Valley of Monsters would take their life without mercy, and even as prepared as he was, no one was prepared for Adel. Not anymore. Once she had allowed her pride to make her complacent; but that would only happen once. The Galbadian's believed they could control her, but she had experienced her own death infinitely, consumed by Ultimecia, obliterated by time compression. She had failed once, but that cold fury of what she had learned, had experienced, had honed her to a razors edge.
Better. It had given her a chance. For Durentis, none. A hand reached out from the tree, speed incredible for even a warrior of Varitas' caliber, and before he could fully react he was gone, tossed away and simply.... non-existent. It was now the mirage began to falter, the shattered real space broken like a battered mirror.
What was once a tree was a towering woman, she loomed over the two training, a cold smile gracing her purple lips. They had to know, she was beyond them, and beyond even Varitas on his own. But was she why existence was fractured here? A question they may not even have the time to register. The towering Sorceress, larger than some buildings, who at her full standing profile was easily twenty three feet tall. Like toys the two boys were pulled from the ground, into the iron grip of the giantess. They were bound in clawlike hands, with a vice like grip. Unyielding.
They felt it before they heard it. "The only way forward..." Was she speaking? It was as if their very beings were shaking in response to what one could assume to Adel's voice. But where was she?
Kalen found himself in Winhill. The laughter of children echoed through the empty town plaza, the blondes books scattered liberally across the stones and each of them hollow; blank, the pages fluttering in the gentle breeze. A cursory glance around would eventually reveal only one other inhabitant, at least the only obvious one would gleam. Facing away, at the bridge that led to the rest of the town, opposite of the path that led to the Everett Estate, stood a blonde haired man. Older. Familiar. Kalen's head burned, like things forgotten ringing once again in his head.
Varitas found himself in a palace. Surrounded by servants, they all kneel in a circle before their lord, the summoned king. "The Throne is yours, if you can take it." Spoke a familiar voice, as each of the nameless men held a pillow over their heads. Each with a key, a key to a mirrored door, each mirror reflecting the path to the throne.
Makoto awoke to a battlefield. There lied his parents, friends and others deeply wounded. His weapon gone, there was a blade left standing covered in blood, rust beginning to take it's bite, but the howl of monsters meant that he did not have much time. Creatures were coming, and those before him would be a easy meal if one did not stand against the tide.
❖ Status Effects: [???] [???] [???] ❖ Active Abilities: [???] [???] ❖ Allies: None | Threats: All “Time does not forget. It simply learns to punish slower.”
Status: IT. IS. COLD. Location: Trabian Wasteland Company: Varitas, Makoto Thoughts: No Place Like Home Weapons: Hrunting ll Thunder Rose Magic: Scan (1) Crystal Stock: Earth (x10)
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Kiss me good-bye, love's memory Follow your heart and find your destiny Won't shed a tear, for love's mortality For you put the dream in my reality
The month had passed and Kalen learned to survive…slowly. The experience of hunting and the terrain had slowly begun to harden his body and spirit. Makoto and he had also started to gel better, becoming more cohesive as a team as they trained and bonded together, all the more showing the progress Kalen was forcing upon himself. This self enforced isolation was truly showing the benefits of this style of living that Kalen had needed, his mood and day to day mannerisms becoming more quiet, intuitive, and subdued.
It did not matter right now though.
For in one moment, he was in a giant woman’s grip and next…he was in Winhill. Makoto was gone. Varitas was gone. It had all happened so fast and the giant, fearsome woman had vanished as well…but he knew what that force he felt was. Just like his sisters abilities and his best friends…sorceress. Why he was here though, what the Sorceress’ game was…he had no clue. The only way forward…he shivered at thought. Such a foreboding statement from the giant of a woman.
All he could do was move forward in this dream state. His head had begun throbbing at the odd familiarity of it all, like a brand slowly burning hotter and hotter in his soul and brain. All he could do was move forward towards the blonde figure, wincing with each step as he drew near.
No Gilgamesh. No one was here beyond the choir of children’s voices.
”Hell…hello?” his voice rang out towards the figure. He knew this was not real…but all he could do was play and engage as if it was. Kalen was in the hands of the sorceress now.
Guardian Force: G...Gilgamesh? Status: O'HO, I HAVE SOMETHING Spells 0
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Posted: Thu Jul 03, 2025 11:15 pm
Varitas Durentis Status: Elsewhere and Nowhere
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It was only for a moment, but his instincts had flared to warn him of the oncoming attack, yet despite all his training and agility, there was no way he could have anticipated Adel of all people to come and make her move on them. In a blink of an eye he was gone, out of sight of the boys and apparently in some palace? His eyes fixated on the room around him, then the servants who all strangely bore his own appearance. Each of them held up a key, but all of them were unique in their alterations, some new, some worn, some in a state of decay, others various degrees of damage or wear, but at the end of it all, he was given many choices, but only one direction. Whatever game this was, that Adel had him playing, it appeared that, indeed, there was only one way forward.
He was to inheret a throne? What kind of throne would that be? Was this some ploy to make him her knight? Or did the sorceress simply throw him across space and time in hopes that he'd be erased? Whatever the reason, his eyes fixated on two keys. The first was the key that looked to be the newest and most pristine out of the bunch, and one that rusted. To him, these represented the end and beginning of this throne he would obtain. His mind drifted back to the centra ruins, and his time there, how he managed to coexist among the tonberry populace, keeping to himself, avoiding the tonberry king, but always near the ruins. Perhaps it was a hopeful thought that this was something that held answers to questions he had long since forgotten, moved on from.
Now he was here, forcefully thrusted to a random choice he had no idea what the stakes were, and yet it felt like this mattered the most. Standing before the one with the newest key, he spoke. "What does it mean to claim the throne?"
The Hollow Plaza The wind carried the echoing laughter of children—until it didn’t.
Silence fell. The books fluttered, but held no stories. The bridge ahead wasn’t the bridge he remembered. The angle was wrong. The slope bent too far. And there was no sound of water beneath it.
And the man?
The blonde figure stood at the edge, unmoving. He didn’t turn.
Kalen stepped closer. His boots echoed on too-flat stone. The air crackled faintly, charged with the scent of scorched paper and burned ozone. Thunder Rose hummed at his hip — not in warning.
In recognition.
Another step— And the man turned.
It was him.
Older. Stronger. Broader. Wreathed in the golden aura of lightning, breathing in perfect rhythm with the storm. His coat was high-collared, regal. Behind him, bound in chains of flickering light, loomed a great wolf — molten gold, snarling in agony, half-phased through the stone. It pulsed with pressure, like a storm held at bay by inches of failing steel.
“You don’t belong here,” said the other Kalen.
His voice was calm. Emotionless. As if whatever made it human had long been excised.
“I,” the double continued, stepping forward as arcs of lightning cracked along the plaza tiles, “am the only path forward.”
The wolf lunged — the chains held. But they were fraying.
He moved like royalty, like thunder itself was at his command. This was a man who had mastered the beast within — who wore it like a crown, not a burden.
“Once I’m through you,” he said quietly, drawing Thunder Rose, “I’ll get to see them again.”
The moment the revolver left its holster, the lightning vanished. The hammer fell. The first shot wasn’t a bullet. It was lightning, in the shape of a wolf, howling for Kalen’s heart.
The Hall of Reflections It is quiet. Not like the stillness of windless desert, or the breath before battle — this quiet weighs heavily. The throne at the room’s center stands silent, vast, and cold. Carved from Centran obsidian. Veined with rootlike fractures of light, pulsing slowly. It is empty. Asides a crown of glass.
Varitas stands in a ring of men who wear his face.
Some younger. Some older. Some armored in styles he does not recognize. Some cloaked like monks. All kneel. All bear black pillows. Each pillow holds a key. None match. Some are polished like new blood. Some are cracked and chipped. Some appear as if they’ve been held for lifetimes.
Above them hang mirrors. Beyond them, doors. But none of the kneeling variants gesture toward any of them. There is no divine response. No judge’s voice. But something shifts. A key rattles. One of the kneeling Varitas — older, hair bone-white and eyes dulled by wars lost — raises his head slightly. He doesn’t meet the real Varitas’ gaze, but speaks. “I sat there once. I was ready. I thought.” Another — younger, but with broken fingers and sun-wrecked skin — lets out a small laugh, almost bitter. “That’s what we all thought. Then the door closed. And we weren’t the one who came out.” A third voice, this one calm, inquisitive, like Varitas when he plans his strikes, adds: “Maybe it means nothing. Maybe it means everyone forgets who we used to be.”
The mirrors shiver.
Each of them, the duplicates, wanted to help. Or they think they do. But every time Varitas locks eyes with one, they look away. They don’t answer the question. Maybe they can’t.
Posted: Sat Jul 05, 2025 4:53 am
Makoto Akihiro Ishikawa
Status: Unbound by grief, blade unsheathed. Location: Eternal Twilight Spells:
???
____________________________________________________ The Cracked Shore The wind howled with no direction — just noise, static grinding across the battlefield like the scream of bent metal and old grief. Makoto awoke with the taste of copper in his mouth and the smell of ozone hanging heavy in the air. He lay in a shallow crater, rainless thunder cracking across a sky too purple to be real. The land stretched before him — broken buildings, shattered walkways, and the unmistakable scent of saltwater. But there was no sea.
There were people. He saw them first by shape — collapsed forms strewn like fallen flags. His mother. Her hair fanned in the rubble, unmoving. His father, one arm shielding the other. Kalen, pinned beneath metal.
All of them—wounded, unconscious, but breathing. None of them dead. Not yet. A sword jutted from the earth in front of him. Old. Rusted. Buried to the hilt in crimson mud. Etched along the blade: 'To sheath me is to choose who will not rise.' Not Maelstrom. No satchel. No rope. Nothing but his heartbeat and a decision. And then: the howls. Monsters. Dozens. Maybe more. Crawling, flying, burrowing — creatures stitched from nightmare and memory, coming from every direction. The ground itself shook.
Makoto moved without thinking. He grabbed the rusted blade. It came free like it had been waiting.
⬖ The First Time He fought. He bled. He moved faster than he ever had. It wasn’t enough. Kalen's throat torn out. Varitas flung into a wall. His mother burned by lightning. His father consumed by darkness. And then it reset.
⬖ The Second Time He fought smarter. Blocked the western flank. Reinforced the ruins with magic. Screamed poetry into the wind like it might hold the line.
Still not enough. Selphie died. Then the rest. And again...
⬖ The Sixth Time "Endless dusk repeats No name survives the thunder Even stars forget."
Makoto stumbles. Cuts down two beasts. Reaches Remington. Nyale falls. Nona calls out — silent. Her throat is gone. Yukiko screams for help but disappears in fog.
He does not even recognize them. Who is he fighting for now?
⬖ The Twentieth? Thirtieth? Makoto fights. He wins. They've all died. The wounds rewind. The loop begins anew.
⬖ He Stopped Counting. Some whisper his name, others scream it. None answer. They all seem like strangers for a moment, yet familiar.
"Who do I fail now? Who did I fail long ago? Does it matter still?"
⬖ The Breaking Makoto collapses beside the sword. He doesn’t fight. He doesn’t move. The monsters reach the others. One by one. Again. But they don’t vanish. They don’t reset.
The loop… hesitates. Makoto’s fingers hover over the blade. To touch the rust.
"This blood is not mine But I wore it like armor And called it duty."
He rises. Not to fight. To walk. He kneels by one of the fallen — someone who never had a name in his memory. He closes their eyes.
"You can sleep this time My shame will not hold your soul I will bear less now."
❖ Moment of Peace The monsters howl, and they always come. Faster. Louder. He stares at the rusted blade planted in the ground. Still not drawn. His breath shakes. His vision blurs as tears streak down his face, his gaze focuses on the book in his hands. The last memory of his family, their book of haikus.
It slips for a moment — he reflexively tightens his grip and catches it. Then… he breathes out, fingers releasing. The soft thump of it landing in the mud is the loudest thing he's heard in days
The sword cleans itself. The rust crumbles away like ash on the wind. The battlefield ripples — no longer a stage for war, but a mirror of calm water. Susano’o whispers in his mind.
“The blade that lets go… cuts deeper than any storm.”
The blade has become Maelstrom, its blade now shaped of pure flowing water, no longer rusted steel.
"The sword left untouched Is the one that saved them all Grief sheathed. Peace drawn forth." ____________________________________________________
Makoto's hand descended upon the hilt of the weapon, and with that his Echo unraveled, and he found himself somewhere unfamiliar.
Status: IT. IS. COLD. Location: Trabian Wasteland Company: Varitas, Makoto Thoughts: No Place Like Home Weapons: Hrunting ll Thunder Rose Magic: Scan (1) Crystal Stock: Earth (x10)
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Kiss me good-bye, love's memory Follow your heart and find your destiny Won't shed a tear, for love's mortality For you put the dream in my reality
The silence fell onto the area like a smothering blanket, no noise coming from the world around him as each step seemed to echo through the quiet world that he had been beset upon. Chilling, foreign, wrong. All these words described what Kalen felt about the environment that he was thrust into, all slowly beginning to drown behind the apprehension that swelled up inside whilst slowly making his way towards the figure that was not so in the distance. Said man did not move, nor make a sound, but stand at the edge of what seemed like nothingness as the young man approached his still form.
The smell of the air was a warning. It was electrical. Dangerous. Covered with a scent of Ozone. If there were to ever be an area that could use a "DANGER, ELECTRICAL HAZARD, DO NO PROCEED." sign, it was most certainly here. All Kalen could do was look forward and stare like a cornered dog, feeling the sensation that his revolver propagated whilst resting in the holster on his hip.
One last step had Kalen coming face to face with a face that looked oh so familiar but absolutely foreign in the nature of it all.
It was himself. Or a form, rather. An older, stronger, seasoned, and absolutely alien look of himself that looked the complete opposite of the young, hopeful, and ragtag youth that stood across from him. Twins was not a proper description here, but rather a before and after stillshot of seemingly different worlds and lives. Everything about the older Kalen was different, from the dress to the demeanor, the golden wolf behind the older man becoming noticeable as it lashed and snarled behind the doppelganger. It's volatile nature drew Kalen's eye for a moment, hairs standing on end. This was not a world that he wanted to be in.
The man before him spoke, echoing a sentiment that not only did Kalen know, he agreed with. The voice in question was even foreign, Kalen, normally an explosive man of passion and emotion, even when controlled, could not identify what could cause this person to be so..empty. There was nothing behind him, no sense of love or passion. It was cold, apathetic, like the coldest steel of a blade that slipped into your spine in an arrent night, by an assassin whomst you knew and called friend. This was no friend, however.
This was Kalen.
"I don't want to be here...and whatever you are, I don't want to be you."
His voice, shaken but still firm in its message. His presence was power, but there was nothing human or remotely Kalen, about this Kalen. Kalen would never sacrifice the things that made him whole, that made his friends and family love him...to look like this, to be as strong as this. Even the man's movements portrayed a sense of destructive regality that, privately, Kalen clamored for in this moment to stand against him.
"Them?"
It was all he could say before his hand reached for his own revolver, launching to the side in a roll after his own gun hammer fell, a shot ringing out as the lightning shot at him like a piercing comet in this world.
What on earth was happening? This wasn't real...
It couldn't be.
Guardian Force: G...Gilgamesh? Status: O'HO, I HAVE SOMETHING Spells 0
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Posted: Tue Aug 05, 2025 10:41 pm
The thunder-wolf struck — a crackling blur of molten light. The shot struck the stone as if lightning had descended. And when the storm faded… He was still standing. Smoke hissed from the scorched tiles. A line had been carved clean through the plaza — molten glass and shattered stone — but the elder Kalen hadn’t moved an inch.
The younger Kalen hadn't missed, it simply hadn't mattered. Smoke curled off the Elder's coat. He twirled Thunder Rose once. An old habit — or punctuation. A hollow flourish to fill a hole nothing ever could. "You flinch when you pull the trigger," he said flatly, voice like cooling metal. "I used to. Until it cost me everyone worth flinching for."
His eyes, golden-lit and hollow, met Kalen’s. There was no warmth there. Only weight. "That hesitation," he said, voice low, measured, "The breath you held before the shot... I remember it. It was the last breath I ever took with mercy in my lungs."
Behind him, the chained wolf bucked violently. The links cracked — just a little. Its snarl turned… strangled. It wasn’t fury now. It was grief. "You think the wolf is your burden?" the echo whispered. "No, Kalen. You are his. And every second you delay, he remembers that. Every second you hold back… they die again. The Wolf fights for, and with, his pack."
The storm paused — just for a heartbeat. As if waiting to see if Kalen believed him. "You know who they are. Nyale. Remington. Yukiko. Mom, both of them. Lloyd, aunt Lisanna, you know the names. The faces. You already know why we fight. I've lost them, you'll lose them, but when I go through you... they won't be lost again."
The golden wolf locked eyes with the young Kalen. There was no hate in them. Only a terrifying hope — the kind that begged not to be the last one left alive.
Status: IT. IS. COLD. Location: Trabian Wasteland Company: Varitas, Makoto Thoughts: No Place Like Home Weapons: Hrunting ll Thunder Rose Magic: Scan (1) Crystal Stock: Earth (x10)
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Kiss me good-bye, love's memory Follow your heart and find your destiny Won't shed a tear, for love's mortality For you put the dream in my reality
To say that Kalen was on edge was a whole new sense of the word understatement.
His hand shook with the experience, a tremor caused by the sudden influx of adrenaline that made the world seem brighter yet leagues more intense and focused. A sharp inhale brought him to his feet, eyes unsure for a moment before shooting daggers at the elder form. They looked similar. They breathed similar. Yet Kalen knew, whatever there was of himself did not rest in the recesses of the soul of what stood before himself. Like a facsimile of a painting that missed the integral part that made a piece of art a masterpiece versus a seemingly flawless copy. Perhaps, some people might look at the echo's frame as an improvement. Broader, stronger, more sure in the coldness that emanated from it.
It.
Kalen knew one thing, that this moment was real but it also wasn't. There was something to be said here, to be learned, even if there was an imminent threat that was laced in the very fibre of its being. Kalen still knew that he was looking at a version of himself when the revolver flourished in the hand of his opposition, a very familiar motif that he, in his own stubbornness, refused to emulate. The words entered his ears, and they were not unheard or ignored. Matching eyes met one another in an electric gaze, both refusing to break from the trance. One was filled with a burning heart of determination, and the others were laced with a cold, cruel apathy that were absolutely foreign to the other.
The wolf's manners behind the Elder's form also reached Kalen's senses, the sounds of mourning. ...I'm the one thing holding the wolf back from doing what it wants...for a reason... The volatile and violent nature of the monster within was something that still haunted him, the aether in which he found himself lost and away from the qualms of the real world only further incentivizing his urge to not wish the beast to be free from its confines. This did beg the question though...was it better to be lost in blissful ignorance when the beast was unleashed upon the world in moments of his own weakness? Or was there something that Kalen himself was not understanding?
The words of hesitation. Of flinching. The moment he should have shot but waited to see if the older Kalen would strike or not...was this all just a lesson?
"You lost everyone here..." A whisper came out, but its words carried in the silence of the world they had found themselves in. One thing was for certain, his body coming to a full stand, twirling the revolver before placing it gently in its holster. Hearing the names of his loved ones was the pull to reality and his senses that gave him a moment of understanding, at least as much as he hoped was to be learned from this chance encounter. A sharp inhale through his nose sent the nerves to a quelled state, even if just for a second, allowing the blue hues to stare directly into the face of his elder, a curious gaze coloring their look.
"We fight for them. We picked up the gun and the blade to fight battles that others did not wish upon us. Not because we were too weak...but because we knew that we would give everything to keep them safe." His voice was quiet, but words pointed. What Kalen had felt when he decided to defend Rem when they were younger. What Kalen had felt every moment he stepped into danger against Koyuki Rieko. They were fights others might not have wanted them to do, but it was for the right reason. To save the people he loved, even at the cost of his own well being. "...I don't want to lose them...I won't. I'm...scared of embracing the beast thats within us. I don't want to lose control of it...but..." His stare hardened, his fists clenched. "I know its a part of me...a part of us. And something in me has held that back, maybe I just don't trust myself...but...that beast is still me, isn't it? That thing inside of us that makes us wild, proud, and free to shape our own destiny. To push our own dreams into the world despite the world telling us to be one thing or the other."
The realization that his eyes looked not at the elder Kalen, but into the eyes of the beast beyond him.
"I would rather take that risk than lose what makes me who I am, and that is my family. That is my friends. Nyale... I won't lose myself and become what you are, or lose them. They would look at you and see nothing but a stranger, a ghost of what I must never become." His shoulders broadened, brow furrowing as he felt something deep in his chest. A power forming as his fists clenched, and even his face slowly gave a more feral appearance as he looked at the Echo that stood before him.
The message was clear, here. A lesson of what could be if the young man did not embrace what made him who he was. There something to be learned about taking that leap of faith and worrying about the results later. One thing that was certain in Kalen Vicaria's heart now.
"I'll embrace what I must become without losing what makes me human."
Guardian Force: G...Gilgamesh? Status: O'HO, I HAVE SOMETHING Spells 0
