Risen Nausicaa (Challenge Zone - Completed)

[Karl Jak]

What had once been a dense fog had cleared in recent hours, revealing a hulking landmass near the southeastern corner of the containment area. While there were supposedly still dangers that lurked in nearby waters, the securing of the ‘Southerly Islet’ gave the strike force a little peace of mind when it came to their flanks.

“There’s still a lot of fog,” the voice over the megaphone was that of the lead carrier’s captain. The naval veteran tapped the screen of the viewfinder that the Syntech people had installed and wondered for a moment if he was missing some type of command to get a better view. Despite what you might imagine, it’s not that easy to go from a decade of pirating a sailing ship to coordinating the maneuvers of a giant metal can.

“You can hear me up there, right?” He asked again as he looked at the massive iron giant, who lifted a thumbs up without diverting his attention from the approaching beaches. “Good. We’re going to get in as close as we can, but like before, you’re going to have to travel through the shallows to the beach. You’ll have the cover of smaller ships, and the landing parties just behind you. There don’t seem to be any fortifications or hidden defenses, but we won’t know until we’re within range.”

The Colossus simply nodded.

***​

Characters Involved: The Clockwork Colossus (@Gizmo Gear

Notes: This first component is ‘the landing phase’, where you’ll have to beat back the relatively minor that inhabit this zone and secure a literal beachhead. You’ll be fighting on beaches and in the shallows for the most part. After 24 hours, you’ll face what I’ll just call ‘the beach boss’.

Enemy NPC Characters: None, but you and the troops will be confronted with a number of parademons and unmade zombies

Length of Scene: This Scene will last for 48 hours
Post Count/Size: 2 Posts max / 2000 words max
Other Stuff: Others MAY join this scene if they move along this path.

Good luck.

 

[Gizmo Gear]

After the thumbs up the Clockwork Colossus looked away as its eyes turned blue and made a sad expression. As Gizmo and Gadget are also solemnly silent inside the robot's head. As the robot walked across the shore to the beach it looked at the horde in front of them. A bunch of zombies on the ground and horrific beings called Parademons flying through the skies. The Clockwork Colossus began reeling its right foot back and began kicking mounds of sand onto the zombies. Burying them within the sand until they are all unable to move.

However as the Parademons come closer, the Colossus begins trying to wave them away like someone would shoo a fly away. Until various Parademons begin to cover it. As it kneels down on the ground as if unsure of what to do. As the Parademons scratched and clawed at the exterior, banging onto it with their fists and brute strength, jabbing at it with their spears trying to break through the tough exterior. Gizmo and Gadget could feel it echo through the halls. And through the Clockwork Colossus' eyes, they could catch a glimpse of what was happening. And it didn't take long for them to both realize why CC was refusing to fight after it saw the brothers distraught about the fact that they murdered beings who were once innocent.

Gizmo then grabs the mic to reach CC.

"I know you feel terrible about what happened and don't want to make us sad again, but please you need to do this. Don't let yourself get destroyed just so we wouldn't be sad. Besides, at the moment there are people here you need to protect like back in Tundhara. Without you who is going to protect the soldiers?" Gizmo said.

The Clockwork Colossus then turned to see that various Parademons were flying over to the soldiers coming to the beachside. Clenching its fists it got up and shook the Parademons off, and swiped them off with its hands. Before running towards the Parademons behind it. It uses a spring-loaded fist to blow through a couple of Parademons to get their attention. As the Parademons flew towards CC, they clapped their hands together onto the Parademons as if squishing a bunch of flies at once. CC then turns back toward the rest of the Parademons which began using their laser rifles at CC.

The laser riflers do not penetrate CC's armor and only leave scorch marks. CC then unleashes a spring-loaded fist with its left arm, before reloading and doing the same with its right before repeating, this barrage smashed through the Parademons aerial horde and knocked them out of the air. Some end up smushed into nothing more than green puddles of blood while others are heavily damaged on the ground unable to fly and most likely lost or broken some of their limbs. CC then noticed the zombies starting to crawl out of the sand it buried them in. It then began stomping on the zombies with one foot. Before shaking off the remains from their foot and scraping it off with the beach sand.

It began to look around trying to spot any more enemies in the surrounding area. Those Parademons are fast but luckily it was able to use its size and deceptive agility to its advantage. As it begins trying to see if there are anymore more flying around in the vicinity. As the zombie threat has already been taken care of. Then things began to be eerily quiet, too quiet some might say.

 

[Karl Jak]

Updates:

Sorry, a bit delayed, but you can consider another 24 hours from this update if you need the time to coordinate and think out a post.

As the forces land, Clockwork Colossus included, you'll push ahead until you are confronted by a (minor) Sand Elemental, as the beaches themselves literally try to smash you all back into the ocean. You must defeat this Size 4 monster if you want to claim the beach head and be able to further infiltrate the Challenge Zone.

 

[Gizmo Gear]

As the sand begins to coalesce and form into a large sand elemental. As the brothers see the sand monster through Clockwork Colossus's eyes. Gadget as always is shocked as he begins to fidget while Gizmo is looking more confused if anything as he squinted at the sand elemental.

"That's just a big moving pile of sand, it's not even that big compared to CC. Does it even count as alive or sentient? I am not sure if we are supposed to take this seriously?" Gizmo said.

As the sand elemental slams into them and Clockwork Colossus begins to hold it back the insides are rocked as Gizmo and Gadget are sent tumbling around in the head.

"I say given the situation we are in Gizmo that yes we have to take it seriously!" Gadget screamed.

Clockwork Colossus then punches the sand elemental and knocks a chunk off before the sand reforms. It then punches again in the creature's abdomen only for its arm to be stuck.

"I hate it when you're right," Gizmo said.

As the sand elemental keeps slamming its fists onto the Clockwork Colossus. The Sand Elemental finds its fist keep breaking apart upon the robot's hull. So it instead begins to collect more sand in an attempt to smother and bury it. This causes panic in Clockwork Colossus as it reminds it of when it was buried in the desert sands after it was left broken. As Gizmo and Gadget try to think of a way out of this, Gizmo remembered that there is an ocean behind them. And sands become wet, clumpy, and soft while in the sea so maybe just maybe. He then screams within the Colossus' head.

"CC, yeet that sand beast into the sea!"

The Clockwork Colossus of course does not understand the request. As it was built before modern-day Earth lingo was made aware of the larger universe. Gizmo rolls his eyes and sighs.

"Throw the sand monster into the ocean!" he shouted.

Clockwork Colossus, now understands the request and plan. Begins to pick up and hold onto the sand elemental. And begins spinning around to gain momentum. Before tossing it aside over the soldiers in the boats that docked onto the island shore or haven't docked yet as it splashed into the water a long way away from them. As the Sand Elemental rises from the ocean it finds itself unable to hold onto its form. As it begins screaming while it begins to appear to melt as it starts falling apart.

The Sand Elemental tries to move and reach for the soldiers in a desperate attempt to take out something with it only for the elemental to fall into the water and sink to the bottom. Now a part of the ocean floor forevermore. Gadget then gives Gizmo a pat on the back.

"That was a really great idea Gizmo, if there's one thing you're good at it's quick thinking in times of pressure," Gadget said.

"Oh you know it, bro," Gizmo said.

As they then perform their victory secret handshakes which involve a complex series of movements before ending with a high five. Well, high four in their case as they each have only four fingers. The battle was over and they could end it on a high note. Considering most of what they faced were zombies and horrific demon-like insectoid things, having a big sand monster at the end added a bit of much-needed levity to the situation. Though with the boy's track record to get into trouble, well more so Gizmo since Gadget is more stuck with him so to speak, the worse is yet to come.

 

[Karl Jak]

"We're ready to move!" One of the soldiers shouted as the landing party started to mobilize. As they pulled out, the Clockwork Colossus paused momentarily as it felt the beaches shudder. Twisting around, it lifted and fired its fist just as the sand elemental erupted up from the beaches and belched a lancing shard of congealed sand. While the spring-loaded punch knocked the head off the monster, its spear-like attack crashed into the giant's sternum, shredding the outer plating but failing to disrupt the important bits inside.

As the seas settled once again, the Clockwork Colossus turned, but once again, it was stopped by a beeping. Inside the control section of the giant, its operators received a recorded message.

"We've completed an analysis of the region ahead of you, and we'll send out a detailed report shortly. Be advised that your survivability rate in this zone is 40%. Good luck?

Updates:

Clockwork Colossus receives a Minor Injury

The rest of Risen Nausicaa is unlocked to the contestants (map update before days end).

To 'win' a Challenge Zone, the contestants will have to complete at least 3 of its 5 areas. This will unlock the Boss zone.

 

[Karl Jak]

Nothing There and Phantoon have arrived with their attachment of ships and soldiers. They disembark on the beaches and head toward the borders of the Challenge Zone, seeing as how said beaches have already been secured.

 

[Karl Jak]

Moments later, another group of ships pulled up.

Sam (@Nico Cinder), Krampus (@Tails), and Deadpool (@Deadpool) have also landed and started toward the zone.

 

[Karl Jak]

Subzone 1 - "The Gardens" – Once some sort of public park, this area has now grown over with corruption and exposure to the depths. At the heart of this part of the city, there’s a great, plant-like monster that resides, stalking trespassers and seemingly coming and going at will throughout the overgrown mess. It will need to be destroyed to secure this area. (Reference Image: https://www.monkeydm.com/post/the-blightwalker-monster-for-dnd-5e)
Characters Involved: Nothing There (@Lilith)

Subzone 2 - "The Sunken Theatre" - Once an extravagant public amphitheater, this area remains partially underwater, even after this shard of the city emerged from the corrupted depths of the oceans. Over the last few nights, a few soldiers have reported singing coming from the theatre, and anyone who has gone closer has never returned. One half-insane soldier spoke of a horrifying amalgam of woman and sea monster lurking within this structure. (Reference Image: https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/v...-scylla.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20200619080325)
Characters Involved: Phantoon (@Ridley)

Subzone 3 - "The Rot" – Beneath the city streets, there are tunnels that are filled with some the most festering corruption present beneath the containment zone. Part of these old tunnels jut out above the oceans, and hidden passageways delve deep into the heart of this corrupt landmass. While all sorts of molded monstrosities lurk in the dark, a particularly overgrown and grotesque creature seems to command these defiled tunnels. (https://residentevil.fandom.com/wiki/Fat_Molded)
Characters Involved: Krampus (@Tails)

Subzone 4 - "The Hills" – A region of buildings and habitations that was a little higher than the surrounding areas. These buildings, already of higher quality during their usage, remain more intact than their peers in the rest of the risen city. Despite this, they died all the same. Some prowl the streets but others were seemingly (and ingloriously) thrown into a mass grave and rose again as an amalgam of diseased and corrupted flesh and bones (https://dragonage.fandom.com/wiki/Harvester)
Characters Involved: Deadpool (@Deadpool)

Subzone 5 - "The Chittering Hall" – No one is quite sure what this place may have been previously. An apartment building. A public house. Now, however, it is one of the beating hearts of infection in this floating revenant. Walls writhe with bladed spikes feasting for blood and flesh. The ground shifts and churns as if it is fueled by some eldritch heartbeat. An even greater monster is said to lurk at the heart of this corruption. (https://carrion.fandom.com/wiki/The_Monster <- Only green instead of red)
Characters Involved: Raimi's Revenge (@Nico Cinder)

Length of Scene: You each have 4 days to write (an extra day because I think you'll all take use of it, lol)
Post Count/Size: Your word count limit is 3500 words

 

[Christopher Chaos]

Low. Low, low, low, low, low.

How low can we go?

The first thing Victor noticed as he and Krampus started down the tunnels below Nausicaa was the smell. It reeked of decay, of corpses, of death, but also of firepower. The doctor hadn’t been on hand for the Nausicaa Incident — too busy caring for his own on the hub — but he’d seen the stories over and over again on the news. The corruption had spread into the heart of the island itself as it was dragged beneath the water. ‘Heroes’ had gone deep, deep, deep into the tunnels below the surface and found… something.

The contents of Nausicaa’s interior had never been revealed to the public, so he supposed they were getting their first glimpse as he led the normal-sized Krampus through the caverns. Karl Jak’s cameras were stealthy and silent, but Victor was no fool; he knew they’d be watched the entire time they were on this island. The man in the purple suit may have altruistic motives in setting his recent death tournaments in the mouth of the horde, but they were still death tournaments.

Fries had taken to walking since Krampus had been shrunk to normal size. He stood just a few paces in front of the monster, one hand holding a torch he’d mocked up on the surface and one hand firmly gripping his bond’s chain.

I am bound to the will of the Signatory, Krampus’ voice boomed, you do not have to pull me along like a dog.

“Forgive me if I don’t believe you,” Fries scoffed, waving him off. That wasn’t it, though — not exactly. It wasn’t that the Krampus hadn’t proven itself trustworthy over the course of this competition; in fact, Fries would argue that considering what he knew of the creature, it had been positively docile, aside from a few errant disagreements. No; there was a shifty energy in the Krampus since they’d entered the tunnels. Something about this place — about the Rot — had shaken his beast. He’d felt it, too, felt the Krampus’ energy shift, likely because of their bond. As a scientist, he wasn’t about to let his specimen out of his control, not when they were in unknown territory.

He tightened his grip.

***

It must be that hours are passing. My legs grow weak, my energy wanes, the little frozen man in front of me… wiggles, or at least that’s what my eyes tell me. He starts to twist and turn as something creeps up my spine. I reach to scratch, but I’m not sure if my claw can make it. Or if there’s anything there to scratch in the first place. Perhaps it’s just a feeling.

His shape, in the blur. It’s… familiar, round and bulbous, less jolly, though, yes, less jolly. I see the top of the iceman’s head and it shines like his, though he had a hat. I see the snowy complexion, and think… the last Signatory was less blue.

He had a hearty laugh, that human man, and I was glad of it. I’m not prone to laughter or joy or any of those things — I see them and let them waft on by, past me as I lurk in the shadow he makes, a big, big, shadow, very big, waiting to cast aspersions on those he ignores. He won’t do the dirty work himself, no, had to hire a demon to do it for him, but it’s alright. I respect it, I’m thankful for it, I wish for it. It’s my gift. My talent and my reward.

Naughty and nice, that’s what he says; that’s us. But one of us is gone, and I think his replacement is just naughty.

His… wife, he says he has a wife, I feel her. I can see her through our together eyes. She’s blue too, but tinged with death. How do I tell him she probably will never be saved? How do I tell the Signatory his will goes against the great will of the cosmos, of life and death, the glory of the unmaking?

Yes, yes, the glory! I remember him. I remember the Fallen One, if only in feeling. I was a monster once, much like I’m monster now, only different. I felt loved — no, that’s the round man talking; I felt made. I felt created, used, purposeful, not just a goat at the end of a chain. I felt made and unmade in one swift swipe, the great tool of a great user.

Betrayed. Never loved, never held in regard, never certain if the first Signatory… wait. Two Signatories have been blue. What a chance.

We delve deeper and I know we shouldn’t be here. Something lurks, lurks, lurks.

A monster.

Not like me.

A real monster.

He’s making a list. He’s checking it twice…

***

“These things somehow smell even worse than the ones on top,” Victor sighed as the Krampus slashed down another goon.

The deeper you go, the worse the rot, the Krampus growled, turning back. Victor knelt down to pick up the chain. I am bound to the will of the Signatory, it boomed again, please release me from your cold grip!

Victor flinched — the first time he’d done so in this game, other than maybe when faced with the Cube’s surreal monstrosities — and took a step back. “I won’t be disobeyed,” he said, trying to keep his voice level and calm as the monster’s frame hunched over him. “Step back, Krampus.”

The chain, it screeched.

He scowled. “No,” he barked. “I am the Signatory, and you will heel!”

The chain— it bellowed, lunging forward. Fries ducked beneath it; it hadn’t meant to harm him, just to force his hand, but he wasn’t letting go without a fight. The beast slammed its claws into the rotted floor, its head whipping around to look at the doctor. Fries could feel a thousand variations of this situation playing out inside his mind, and knew that which path he tread depended entirely on what he did next.

But he didn’t get to choose. The Rot chose for him.

Black vines, dripping with an intensely glowing indigo ichor, snaked out of the ground and wrapped around the chain. The chain began to glow, too, a deep shade of blue, unmade energy slowly beginning to entangle with it. Victor’s gaze shifted up towards the Krampus’ face, expecting a comparable amount of horror — but all he could see was joy.

The deeper you go, the worst the rot, it repeated, quietly. The closer to home.

The vines pulled, a stronger force than Fries had ever fought against in his life. He felt the wrist he’d wrapped the chain around snap, then watched as the very floor of the tunnel sucked the chain up. He glanced back up at the Krampus just in time to watch it disappear into the dirt.

Fuck.

***

Into the floor I go. What was the blue man singing in his head? How low can we go? Lower, lower, lower.

Almost to hell, but it’s my heaven. I love the feeling of crashing into the floor of somewhere, some abyss, some terrifying place that any mortal human might call frightening. I don’t feel that — not ever, I’m not frightened. I delight in the dark, feel full when fear rears its ferocious head. I think of the scientist and I realize suddenly I’m not thinking of him as the Signatory anymore.

He’s still the Signatory but I feel… outside of that. And inside of something else. For a moment, I’m feeling free, but then I feel the chains begin to wrap around my neck again.

My eyes glaze over red and I feel him.

The first Signatory.

His thoughts — or what he wants me to know — flow freely into my line of sight as I writhe in… wherever this is, the dark and the cold, I chitter, I chatter, I snarl, I scream, and I see the bodies of his minions I’ve sliced to bits on these islands, see the ones I’ve bludgeoned until they looked like dented gifts in the second Signatory’s sleigh. It feels like a fire in my brain but not too hot — just all-consuming.

He’s disappointed in me.

But I live to make people feel absolutely awful, don’t I?

***

Of fucking course, it dawned on the doctor. Of course it’s unmade.

He should’ve known from the very beginning. Those glowing red eyes, the hunched, twisted body, the way he was a reflection of the natural world but also such a bastardization of it; clear signs of a creature of Darkseid’s making. Fries wondered if Jak knew — if he had any idea the creature he’d pulled from the wilds of Inverxe had been a leftover product of Darkseid.

He wasn’t sure how the Krampus itself had gone so long without realizing it, without hearing its master’s call; perhaps it had, and had been biding its time. Perhaps it had planned all along to be captured and find itself once again in Nausicaa, here to finish whatever its master had started.

For his part, Fries bolted. He certainly couldn’t survive without his Bond, not here in the depths of the Rot nor, frankly, anywhere on these islands — without his freeze gun, without the Krampus, he was useless, a worthless scientist with nothing to offer.

Nora’s face flashed before him.

I won’t be saving you today, he thought, sadness bowling over him.

His wrist burned. The vines — or the Krampus, or Darkseid himself, whoever had mustered that strength — had completely snapped the bone. He almost couldn’t run, the pain was so overwhelming, but he had to get out. He couldn’t stay beneath the surface. If he could get to the top, he could find Nico and Sam, find Deadpool, find his Syntech soldiers, find anyone who could help him get out of here so he could fight another day.

But he didn’t find them.

He found… what they’d come in here to find.

The tunnels had turned into a maze, and he couldn’t remember which way they’d come. A “challenge zone,” Jak had said — they’d been teleported out of the Cube, so they could be teleported out of here, right? Only if they won, though — he wouldn’t be saved; losing was such good television.

He stepped into the central antechamber of the Rot, face-to-face with the Mold they’d been sent to kill. Or face-to-ass, really, as the hulking, naked creature stood faced away from Victor, slouched atop a mountain of bones and guts and intestines and stone. Victor bit his lip; there was absolutely no way it wouldn’t have noticed him by now, which it confirmed by craning its head over one shoulder and turning to face him, gigantic belly bouncing as it moved.

The creature didn’t speak — it probably couldn’t — but it did open its gaping jaw. Fries dove out of the way, just barely avoiding the hot vomit it spewed down the hill at him.

“Fuck!” he screamed as he landed on bones himself, his wrist throbbing with pain. He scrambled to his feet, stumbling through the boneyard towards the other side of the antechamber. Maybe if he could reach the other door, he’d get out. Maybe the thing was so bloated it would be slow—

An arm swung out, smashing into Fries’ abdomen. He could feel his ribs starting to splinter, tasted blood spurting out of his mouth.

This will not be how you die, he said to himself.

No. That wasn’t his voice.

This will not be how you die.

Fries collapsed onto the bone-ridden floor, turning his head toward the top of the hill where the bulbous monstrosity stood. From beneath its feet, the Krampus burst forth, slicing at its stomach with its claws. It connected, and molten acid spewed from the wound, landing on the Krampus’ fur and singing it slightly. His Bond let out a yelp, but swung its birch staff toward the creature and sent it rolling down the hill to the other side of the chamber.

Turning its attention to Fries, it clambered down the mountain of bones and knelt next to the doctor.

Get up, it growled. Our foe will be on its feet soon.

“Our foe?!” Victor shouted, rising slowly to his feet. “You’re cut from the same unmade cloth as that twisted monstrosity. It’s likely as close to you as family.”

The Krampus grabbed Victor by the throat, lifting him up and slamming him into the wall.

The Fallen One does not control us, it roared.

And neither do you.

Victor would’ve gone pale if he hadn’t felt something… warm begin to beat within his chest. It wasn’t under his control, perhaps, but he could still feel his bond, deeply, truly. He hadn’t felt warmth like this in a long time, and the Krampus hadn’t either. Not since…

“Nora,” he exhaled.

Nicholas, the Krampus scowled.

The monster slowly lowered Victor to the floor, looking down at him with glowing red eyes. Something inside it had shifted beneath the surface of the Rot — he could feel, through their connection, a sense of… rejection. But it hadn’t been rejected. It had said no.

It is my choice, the Krampus nodded. Naughty… or nice. Behind it, the Molded slunk around the corner to fight another round. The beast turned toward it and crouched into a battle stance, Victor sliding behind it.

“Let’s get naughty, Krampus.”

WC: 2232

 

[Ridley]

Karl Jak’s men were not badly trained, Ridley reflected as the ships hit the shore. Most seemed to be veterans, and the Space Dragon wondered if any had lived through the siege of cevanti, perhaps survivors of Nausicaa, the few not so deluded in their ivory tower to shut off from their war.

Still, Ridley reflected, when he thought of ‘peace’ he meant that relatively. The loss of soldiers to singing water of all things, without further investigation proved his point nicely. Had this been a WYVERN operation, enough soldiers with video equipment would’ve been sent in long before now to ascertain the threat, and exactly how to exploit it.

Or, in the case of the unmaking, the minimum number of explosives required to guarantee it’s death.

Regardless, this was the reason why Phantoon had now been called to strode through the ruins of Nausicaa, disregarding the tattered remnants of the city and its fallen defenders with a casual flick of rubble. To clean up the mess left by Karl Jak’s men. To clean up the mess left By Opealon’s negligence.

The cracked halves of the amphitheater were almost implausibly intact, but not unmarred. Barnacles and Weeds littered the dark ruins, and their mark on the ceiling left the are cast in strange shadows, the sea-life clicking and clattering.

Phantoon’s eyes darted back and forth, as they approached a section of Coral walling their path - a barrier about twice as tall as Phantoon himself, and the length of the entire street. . The reddish-black structure pulsed with Unmaking energy, filled with a glowing blackness., and the Eldritch beast took no chances as it dashed through the structure with blackened claws.

As a group of unmade things burst out, all teeth and claws and eyes that flashed all different colors, Phantoon doused the rebellious leeches with a puff of flames that struck the ground and fanned out in a puff. When the fire settled, nothing was left.

The zerg had infested the previous station, made it their own. This was something else. Something far more dangerous. The ground, the rocks, the water, even the taint wafting through the air - all of it had surrendered to Darkseid’s embrace.

“You have changed.” Phantoon spoke up.

Ridley’s eyes snapped wide. “I have not.” The dragon growled, thinking the insult to his strength out of character for Phantoon.

“General Ridley would have boasted of his eventual victory. How Darkseid was nothing to him. He would have preened in his moment of victory.” Phantoon replied simply, as they neared the cathedral.

“I Leave nothing to chance in my victory. I never have.” Ridley insisted, but Phantoon simply stayed quiet at the statement - gaining Ridley’s ire once again.

Whatever. Phantoon’s irritation had thoroughly worn out the welcome of an old comrade, but the Space Dragon’s interest did not lie in playing games of riddles with the old cephalopod.

Behind him, a small detachment of allied scouts followed - wisely deciding to keep their main forces out of pulverizing distance until the threat in this sector was known. If he recalled, the commander of this fleet was Lieutenant Lena Ary… and from what else he recalled of her background, this level of planning was still far more competence than he expected from a Skylander of Opealon.

Still, the forward position was being taken by the giant among them, even in his shrunk stature dwarfing all but the largest men, and with the scouts around Ridley taking various positions to hold the line, and holding flare guns to signal for obvious traps or encircling soldiers to something at Phantoon’s size. The approach was eerily quiet, as Ridley entered the sunken Amphitheater. For all the reports of singing, the place was still quiet - to the ears of everyone present, there was only the eerie quiet befitting a sunken tomb.

Phantoon’s ethereal form crackled and fizzled as they at last made it to the threshold, and the phantom shuffled its crackling robes into the decayed chambers.

The rot in this place immediately assaulted Ridley’s nose - the first time a scent had been able to reach him within Phantoon’s form - and he flared his nostrils as he forced himself not to vomit his innards out into Phantoons. This was more than bile or carrion - this was something that likely could have been weaponized, and the team behind him, Weapons up, were already adjusting their face masks with a look of disgust.

Still despite the carrion, and the brackish, repugnant water, It might have almost seemed to be a wild goose chase, as the sea remained silent and undisturbed.

Were it not for the mutilated bodies of Karl Jak’s former men, of course. And the fact that a few had already started to rise from their watery grave.

Ridley did not see the point in smashing them, as he nudged Phantoon to investigate the water below. A few sniper rounds whizzing by their shared head coldly blasted the failures apart without any need for a creature of his importance to smash a few unmade wretches.

What truly caught his interest lay beneath the water, and as the pair approached the broken, blasted floor of the great, ruined structure, and stepped forward to the edge of the water. The amphitheater itself was one of the largest Ridley had ever seen - a couple kilometers wide, and twice as long. Humanity’s commitment to such pointless pursuits never failed to Amaze Ridley.

More interesting was the water - brackish, black, and covered with a surface layer of Algae, whatever lay hidden within would not give up it’s secrets to those cowardly enough not to plunge within the depths of it’s waters - and those foolish enough to do so without a plan would be quickly devoured.

Phantoon and Ridley pondere this, the older beast pressing a tentacle to it’s chin - or at least, what Ridley could generously consider a chin, as they considered what to do in this situation.

The first step was not made by Ridley, Phantoon, or any of their companions. It was something far from what Ridley would expect for an attack, and yet something bubbled up from the depths.

And Ridley, even within Phantoon’s misbegotten body of starstuff, forced himself to suppress a gasp.

What followed was not an attack of any sort, though Ridley’s compatriots obviously took it as such with their screams of horror and immediate loss of composure, clutching their ears. No, the song they spoke of was quite beautiful indeed. It spoke to Ridley of the feeling of prey’s final, quiet breath. Of gold and pearls and other things that lustered, hoarded within one’s home. Of Bones and fire and kings and pearls.

“Ridley! On your guard!” The Space Dragon heard screaming in his mind, as the musician pulled herself from the depths, breaking Ridley at least partially out of his spell. For all the song and dance, the beast pulling itself from the depths had a monstrous ardour to it, even as it continued its sweet songs, and he dimly registered Karl’s minions running in terror.

The Space Dragon snorted. Cowardly and unrefined. He was certain Lilith would have been able to appreciate the Unmade monster’s carrion song, and dimly noted it was the first time he actually wished her nearby for something other than a simple task or stress relief.

A set of twisting, carnivorous heads, eyes filled with malice, surrounding a single, malformed human face. The beast was almost an art piece of Man’s numerous failures, and Ridley would have been charmed by it’s appearance in another situation.

Yet, the fact that this minstrel, this beast, belonged wholly to Darkseid turned his thoughts to a covetous jealousy all too quickly, that they had not captured and trained such a beast for himself first. And if he could not have it…

Phantoon unleashed a blast of Azure fire, coating the creature in fire by surprise, as it let out a shriek… only for a sickly green coating of fluid to Burst from unseen pores, dousing the blaze in an instant and surprising both Ridley and Phantoon himself.

The Eldritch parasite raked an astral claw forward, cutting the front of the monster, but the blow was shallow, and the creature countered with a vicious bite from one of it’s snake heads on Phantoon’s shoulders. Other heads darted in, with Phantoon grabbing one head in hismighty claw and the other twisted between his head tentacles, holding the massive beast back as it gave out an unearthly howl.

Still, Phantoon could feel his grip slipping, and as the beast stepped fully out of the water, the Squid was pushed back, slowly buckling under the force of his opponent.

Thus, the creature responded by disappearing from sight and space, disappearing in a puff of smoke and leaving the unmade beast stumbling forwards.

The Creature growled, looking for it’s prey, before Phantoon reappeared from behind, slashing at the back of the massive creature’s body - and aiming right for the spine. The Claws cut through the beast’s Vertebra easily, snapping the bone without issue - and Phantoon immediately stepped forward to feed, not wanting to waste a second when the creature’s life force was already dribbling away in front of him.

This proved to be a mistake, as snakelike coils struck around, grabbing Phantoon and sweeping him off his feet. In front of the Alien’s astonished eyes, the Body regenerated, the spine pulling itself back together and flesh re-knitting itself within seconds. A set of snakelike maws struck from all directions, intending to pull Phantoon apart like a disobedient toy, but the Creature flew through the beast, phasing through his grip as he rushed through and past the Amphitheater horror - and then, slipping back out of sight.

“Plans, Ridley?”

“Already formulated. Track down the rest of Karl Jak’s Toy soldiers. We’ll need their resources.” Ridley growled.

A bold, dangerous beast. But not unassailable - and anything breakable was within Lord Ridley’s grasp.

1667 words

 

[Nico Cinder]

Nico told the soldier-y fellas to stay back a ways, but he was beginning to wish maybe he hadn't. Ickly green ooze dribbled from the windows of this place, streaks of red blood running into yellow where the two substances mix and merge. Sam sniffed, and listened. His host heard it too - this place was definitely chittering. Time would tell if the chittering really belonged to a hall or not. Nico had been around the block enough times to know that anytime something 'clicks' like that, you should probably dip as politely and briskly as possible from the party. Come to think of it, Nico was pretty sure he had heard Sam make this noise before. There was...what could have been a wooden sign, at some point, hanging precariously above the door. Nico bade Sam knock, so it was the one who knocked.

The sign gave a squeak of defiance, or terror, and crashed to the ground next to them. Sam leaned over it, to get a better look, but it was little use. Whatever was once written here had been washed away by slime. "Nothing like a good B&E," Nico thought aloud.

Breakfast... Sam thought. Nico did not correct him.

The door swung outwards with some effort, trails of flesh juice hanging off the old rotted wood. The flesh they came from formed a wall of rancid looking green meat and bone. Sam did not miss a beat, ripping a substantial chunk out of the blockade and holding it up for the usual sniff inspection. Not rotten, no. Well seasoned. Marinated, if you will.

"I will," Sam said, answering Nico's thought, and took a bite out of the meat clump in his clenched fist. Hm. Chunky.

A sound then thus erupted from the meat, a sound so horrid and blood curdling it would make the demons residing in the farthest reaches of hell shit their very britches. Sam wrinkled his 'nose' and snorted. Before he could spit his food out, four spiked tendrils shot from the flesh hallway and noosed themselves tightly around the malefactor machine, binding its arms at its sides. Sam dropped the meat, a pouty look on his face. Spikes of his own began to sprout from his arms, piercing the meat ropes. Both bond and bonded felt the hallway try to drag them inside, making its disgusting clicking noise as it did. The pulling really wasn't necessary though. They were already on their way.

"Eugh," Nico groaned. "This hall really do be chittering."

A quick little hop is all it took. As Sam's feet left the ground, there was no resistance, and the meat pulled them in. The door slammed shut with a fleshy thwack.

-----

Inside the house, blood became more blood. Sam and Nico's furious screeches mingled with tittering of the hall's walls as they tried to hack the whole establishment down, board by board. There were doors and stairs, probably, but what was the point? Everything melded together, everything was tender, pull-off-the-bone meat. If the two of them needed a hole, they tore it open and went through. The building seemed to be alive, writhing and slithering. And very angry. A sharp tendril coiled and launched itself like a spear, finding purchase in the symbiote's shoulder plate. With a grunt, Sam grabbed the slippery thing and squeezed, pulled, wringing the rag out. It snapped under the pressure, spewing green ooze all over the place like a water hose. With a yank, the sharp end pulled free and was slung to the floor with a satisfying wet smack. More spear tips slithered around in the dark corners of the hallway, as Sam's arms configured into a pair of wicked looking hatchets.

"I don't know any jokes about butchers or meat shops," Nico said with a hint of salt.

Less joke, Sam hissed in his ear. More kill.

"Kill what? A fucking building? Ah whatever, I guess that's doable. These don't really look like cleavers anyways."

Sam launched forward in a twisting leap, his blades gouging blindly into the walls and floors, leaving deep bleeding wounds wherever he went. More tendrils came for them in a frenzy, the hall chittered, meat given purpose and murderous intent. Nico decided that he and Sam could say the same about themselves. An overhead slash lopped another spear tip off, and Nico looked about, unsure of where to go. The musician did notice, the meat quivered with a rhythm - like that of a heartbeat. A pulsating glow accompanied every ba-thump. Maybe...

Another lunge from the creature's appendages distracted them, coming from behind this time. It nicked Sam's forearm as he whirled around and pushed the blow aside. Trimming the vines was not so difficult, but they kept coming, unceasing, endless meat. There was more of it than Sam and Nico. It was trying to tire them out, catch them slipping.

"Like hell," Nico said. "Like hell!"

Sam roared something incomprehensible, but Nico got the feeling he agreed. They would be louder than the chittering of the Hall, louder than Hell. They would rip the sound out of the walls themselves, like a beating heart from a chest.

~858 words

 

[Ridley]

Captain Clark was still catching his breath when he turned to see his ‘commander’, Phantoon - or was it Ridley, somehow? Clark didn’t fucking get it when it was first explained to him - phased back into view in front of him. His men were likewise taking cover, still trying to physically and mentally recover from the sonic assault that thing had given. Naturally, since it was the most horrible fucking noise in the world, it hadn’t bothered the cephalopod one iota, since he was the most fucking disgusting thing in the world.

Still, he was his boss - and while he had usually done it at far larger size, the former behemoth had saved his and his team’s bacon More than once.

Thus, when the Kaiju appeared in front of him, he snapped up to attention when the creature said, “Put me on comms. We need special reinforcements.” Clark hadn’t questioned a goddamn word. He just sighed and nodded.

“Yes sir, mister Phantoon.”

“Don’t confuse me with him.” Phantoon’s other, scarier voice claled out - or was that ridley? He’d come out here to fight the unmaking at the front once again, not to deal with this creepy flavor of giant monster Multiple Personality Disorder.

“If you say so, mister Phantoon.”

---

Lieutenant Lena Ary was quick to answer the direct line, hoping it was something important, and from one of his men. Though really, her greatest hope was simply that it wasn’t Lilith making a Booty call and ignoring the mission.

She Bit back an exasperated sigh, at the thought. WYVERN had been surprisingly helpful and non-destructive so far, despite their lack of discipline. Ridley had surprised her less - whatever else he had done at Nausicaa, or as an Unmade Nightmare, his effectiveness was not in question - but even his relative respect and work to protect the fleet had been almost charming.

“Lena Ary.” Ridley’s voice crackled through the microphone. “We’ve located the threat.”

“I know, And I’ve already sent reinforcements your way. A group of light infantry-”

“Don’t bother. Send them back.” Ridley responded, his voice dripping with indifference.

[had[/I] been almost charming.

“You don’t want support?”

“It’s regenerative. Your support would be more zombified bodies. None of your standard soldiers are equipped for this being. Guns will do nothing.’

“We have some big guns.” Lena countered.

“I cut across and through it’s spine, Ary. Don’t make me repeat myself.” Ridley spat, and Lena instinctively leaned halfway across the counter, to the surprise of the others in the command room, before Realizing Ridley was not physically in the room to strangle - and that she was physically incapable of it.

Adjusting her cap, brushing a blonde hair out of the way of her face, and letting out an exasperated growl of impatience. “Then we’ll be happy not to reinforce you-”

“I have a request. The Spider mines. Send a strike force with a group of them. We’ll overload it’s regeneration. Phantoon will do the rest. Those are my orders. We will hold until the arrive”

“I am in command-” Lena protested, before being cut off.

“Lord Ridley out.”

The silence in the room was palpable as the Lieutenant balled her hands into fists. Everything about this made her blood curdle as she was forced to work with this asshole. But his tactics made a certain sense, and if she didn’t reinforce him - if they lost the dragon…

Well, She’d rather give her left arm than see what happened when Lilith was let off the leash.

“Lord Ridley out.” She muttered under her breath, realizing she was being childish. Still, she was starting to see what her…

Right. Her special forces division. She’d been holding them in reserve for when the fighting on land got thick, but this was a special occasion, and they were cleared for driving the best vehicle for the job.

“Alright, I’ll give you some fucking Reinforcements!” She repeated with a heavy grin - one that made the rest of the staff on board just a little nervous.

“Tell Slayer Division they’re about to mount up for a little mine-laying expedition. And remind them the lizard’s on our Side right now.”


God knows I could use one right now.

---

The Amphitheater Horror would not take long to hunt Phantoon down - Ridley had a feeling that a creature with such obvious biological markings of the deep ocean, one that may have been sunken down here for months, would not rely on something so crude as sight - so After he concluded his business with the scouts, he chose to battle just outside the amphitheater itself - as the ascending stands on the inside created an equally wonderful wall Phantoon could utilize on the outside, for the purposes of safety - and carnage.

The Creature’s beautiful song echoed, as it smashed it’s way through the half-ruined entrance of the amphitheater, but it’s voice seemed to carry far less as it left the Structure. Phantoon Glared straight at his opponent - unmoved by the song, or by the size of the opponent that now smashed the very ground it slid across as it mounted. It was a more dangerous thing amidst the ground than it was the water, with four misshapen sets of legs all working in harmony to Run across the floor at unnatural speed.

Hitting nothing but air as Phantoon phased through the beast, Removing it’s grasp on the materium, and only taking hold of it again as the Multi-headed monster’s tail came in view. Claws dug into and through the screaming monster, as Phantoon Dragged it back with all of it’s strength. The claws skewered the creature as well as a fishing hook, and it seemed, luckily, that the creature wasn’t completely immune to pain, as Phantoon Focused his energy and unleashed a blast of Blazing fire from his eye, coating the Hydra in an azure inferno.


For a moment, Ridley wondered if they hadn’t over-prepped - at least, until the tail swept into Phantoon’s mid-section, and sent the two flying with a sudden surprise attack. Slammed into the wall, the Sirenic monster charged them with an unnatural speed, sinking it’s teeth into Phantoon’s shoulder and leaving the Squid to let out a wail - before Retaliating in turn, his deadly claws tearing into the beast’s side as his body glew red and fire burned along his claws.

The Amphitheater Horror’s form was torn, but it put itself back together within a few seconds, and now the beast was far too enraged for the pain to be able to stop it, Gnashing and biting at Phantoon - and further enraging the cephalopod, as it pushed the creature back with Ferocity alone.

It was no longer a Battle of strategy, as the Middle, humanoid head let out a sonorous song. It was a beastly brawl, as Phantoon struck, ripping gouges into the creature’s form, and the draconic heads biting and snapping into Phantoon’s body in turn. The Cephalopod was somehow winning ground, pushing the shrieking beast back inch by inch, but the wounds he left were temporary - the wounds left by the Siren-beast, meanwhile, were beginning to accummulate, and Mix with the battle damage left by what had become a long campaign. Ridley, from within his ethereal prison, flared his control collar, desperate to gain back power over the situation, to Push Phantoon to back up and out of his rage, but the Level of hatred the Beast now possessed for his Opponent left Ridley drowning in Phantoon’s rage - he could hardly form a thought, let alone give a command like this.


Eventually, the Amphitheater Horror turned the tables, Not with an attack, but with a simple forward charge that let it’s far greater mass slam Phantoon right back into the wall he had fought his way out of, leaving the eldritch squid hobbled on the ground. All eight heads reared up to strike, and Ridley cursed - if they were to lose their position in this battle, it would not be for such a stupid reason as his counterpart’s rage.

But for the first time in this contest, Ridley struggled to think of answers. Luckily, he didn’t have to.

“Gee, you look Fucked up! Can’t say I sympathize!” A voice called out, barely audible amidst the sound of loud repulsor engines - and the immediate launch of several grenades from behind, the Amphitheater Horror’s back-end exploding in showers of quickly healing gore. The beast turned to face it’s assailants, but the high-flying vulture hoverbikes closed the distance before they could respond, Katchin swords relieving a few of the beast’s heads from it’s shoulders with lightning-quick cuts, before they disengaged for another past.

Any Relief Ridley would have gained from this surprise rescue was cut short when he saw his rescuers. A quintet of men, Each wearing lime-green armor and blades, one of them Firing off a sawed-off shotgun blast with one hand to continue peppering the Amphitheater Horror as they pulled away.

“Rip and Tear!”

Karl Jak certainly enjoyed his bad jokes, and the Helldivers, as a result, had found themselves a disgusting little niche in his own battle.

Still, as Ridley attempted to move past his overwhelming level of anger and focus, he was reluctantly forced to admit that this was the breed of soldier he needed in this situation. Most of the crossroads knew squabble, but didn’t know war. They lacked a real understanding of it’s emotions, it’s nuance, it’s pain. But the helldivers?

He’d shown them War. And he’d shown them Hell. If anyone on this battlefield knew what a war against the unmaking truly meant, other than Lord Ridley himself, it was the helldivers.

As He forced Phantoon to phase forward, finally able to get past his wall of hatred, his confidence in the plan went up - As it seemed they already had a perfect idea of what he needed.

The Amphitheater Horror ran forward, charging the Bikes as they zoomed away, throwing an occasional ineffectual potshot with the sawed-off for good measure, before stopping straight on the open road… or what looked like an open road.

Turning practically on a dime, the Vultures unleashed one last blast of grenades, the fragmentation shots burning holes in the beasts flesh, as it stumbled forward, intent on crushing the Bikes in one idiot-speed charge.


And then the already ruined road split apart even further as the laid spider-mines unburrowed, and the Amphitheater Horror’s body was covered in a cacaphony of explosions.

This was the moment Ridley was waiting for, as Phantoon rushed forward and grabbed it’s last intact body part, it’s strange, sunken head.

“The pain will soon be over, creature. Sleep.” Phantoon echoed, as he drank deeply on the Amphitheater Horror’s energies.


The creature healed, but wrong this time. It’s body came back dry, withered, cracked. By the time it finished regenerating, all that had came back together was a grey, lifeless husk.

1829 words for this post, leaving me at a total of 3,496.

 

[Karl Jak]

Deadpool clambered along a dilapidated balcony railing, saltwater-eroded metal crumbling to rust under his gloved hands. He paused there, the lacy curtains of the vacant apartment's glass doors flapping behind him in the briny breeze rolling off the sea, and took stock.

Standing on the very edge of the balcony, Wilson peered down at the stuttering waves below. The white 'eyes' of his mask narrowed, carefully scanning the underwater city for signs of life.

He could make out the water-logged shapes of smaller dwellings— a wee suburb, a corner store, a library —all submerged far beneath the waves. Amongst the gloom he could just barely glimpse the faint vestiges of a children's playground, its swings and slides stark and colorful against the inky, shadowy depths. The inky waters shimmered as a glittering school of fish darted around the dark silhouette of a submerged jungle-gym, weaving between its slanted monkey bars and ladders in silvery flickers of movement.

"Laying it on a bit thick for little ol' me, aren't we, duck-lady?" Wilson wondered aloud, seemingly apropos of nothing. He turned and scanned a neighboring building that had also been tall enough to escape being consigned to a watery grave, sizing it up to see how fast he could climb it. "Hi again, by the way, just loving the scenery chewing…. Aaaand now you're looking up the right BB Code color..."

The neighboring building was a large clock tower, looming against the waterlogged cityscape like a sentinel, its frozen face telling the same time it did when Nausica still rose above the sea. And just beyond it…

Scattered across a series of rolling hilltops just beyond the towering clock tower, a collection of buildings and dwellings stood tall; a more elevated part of the island that was seemingly untouched by the sea, completely protected from the floodwaters that had ravaged the city below.

"Jackpot," said Deadpool. He lifted one hand, bringing it down in a sharp smack over a strange little device wrapped around his wrist.

Transforming into Goji-Pool in a sparkling flash of light, Wade dove from the balcony and into the sea, crimson scales glinting in the muted sunlight. He crashed against the raging swells like a red-hot meteor, frothing the depths in his wake.

A glassy lip wove over the sloping bumps of his mask-covered eyes as he plunged into the ocean headfirst, the sea churning with his every move—

"Wow, duck-lady," Wade warbled around a mouthful of seawater, bubbles spilling from between his teeth. "You're really going ham. Save a little bit for the actual fight scene, yeah?"

—wild white foam bubbling up from the mighty force of his red-scaled body breaching the surface. Slight, thin ripples marked his progress, furling like frothy lace curtains behind him.

Little flickers of light like the spots of a whale shark traveled along his dark crimson frame as he rolled and swam headlong into the deep, the slightest thrash of his meaty tail causing a chaotic cascade of silver as fish scattered in all directions, their scaly bodies shimmering in the darkness.

The man-sized reptile clad in sturdy red spandex dog-paddled forward leisurely, swimming between the dark submerged shapes of fancy condominiums and shattered townhouses. The last breath he had taken before diving coiled inside his reptilian lungs; a bubble escaping from his nostrils like thin, glassy thread, wisping towards the surface.

In seemingly no time at all, Goji-Pool dragged his scaly hide onto the shore-line, claws gripping the sand as he ambled ashore. He reared up onto his hind legs, the fern-like spines bristling along his back rippling as he gave a wild shake, droplets of salty water flying in every direction.

"Alright," he huffed, mouth contorting to reveal jaws crammed full of saw-like teeth, a bulbous and slimy reptile tongue slithering out from between them. “So it's not as cool marching ashore like Godzilla when I'm normal-sized, but hey— sometimes that's just how the cookie crumbles...”

Sliding the rest of the way out of the water, he began restlessly pacing down a deserted street. His big feet plapped wetly against the cold pavement with every step, snout twitching at the distant, shrill cries of seagulls wheeling in the distant sky above.

The air felt still... almost too still— an oppressive hush enveloped him as he ventured further and further into the empty, sloping hills of the island suburb. The windows of each house he passed were like dark eyes staring out into the street, empty and vacant, the paint chipped away and doors hanging off their hinges.

Suddenly, a gust of wind picked up a white plastic grocery bag, sweeping it by in a frenzy. Goji-Pool craned his neck, watching the whirling debris until it disappeared from sight. An eerie silence made itself known as the man-sized lizard once again resumed his slow, loping strides, each meaty footfall echoing like the tolling of a bell in the stillness.

He emitted a lazy, drawn out hum as his body began to sway back and forth. "Do you ever feel... like a plastic bag..." he sang quietly under his breath, the cartoonishly off-key lyrics garbling around his sharp teeth. "Drifting through the wind... wanting to start again?"

Waddling along, Goji-Pool's lengthy alligator tail swung from side to side in a fluid motion as he trotted down a random side street. A broad crater, vaguely resembling the size and shape of one of his reptile form's feet, gaped at its center— long, branching cracks arcing outward from it, rippling across the dark asphalt.

"Do you ever feel... feel so paper thin," the spandex-clad reptile continued to croon, lumbering slowly forward. "Like a house of caaaaards, one blow from cavin' iiiiiin...?"

Goji-Pool stepped cautiously to the edge of the crater, peering into its depths. At the bottom lay a profane barrage of mutilated limbs and organs, all of them completely torn asunder, shattered bone jutting out from between split, sun-shriveled skin and burst organs, strings of intestinal matter oozing amid the rest. The soiled earth was drenched in rancid blood, drying slowly around the decimated remains— black flies buzzing around the carnage in tight, frenzied circles, their pale maggot children writhing in the gory muck.

"Do you ever feel... already buried deep?" Goji-Pool trilled quietly, the white lenses of his mask narrowing. "Six feet under screams, but no one seems to hear a thiiiing..."

His sing-songy words trailed off, gaze drawn by a sudden flicker of movement, eyes darting to one of the limp limbs twisted beneath all the rest. It was totally indiscernible as either an arm or a leg due to rot... and it just laid there, motionless, lifeless, doing nothing.

A frown turned the corners of Wade's reptilian muzzle downwards, the dead limb earning a dubious eyebrow-raise. He held his gaze there for an agonizing minute, then with a sudden jerk of his head, swiveled to face the street behind him, his muscled kaiju body bristling and ready for combat.

But the street was also empty. Completely void of life, only the distant shrieking of gulls bouncing off the vacant husks of the houses lining the street, the stench of rotting fish and brine carried on the salty breeze from the distant shoreline.

"Ah, the ol' horror movie shtick," Goji-Pool drawled. He planted his clawed hands on his hips, right above his emblem-laden belt, evidently speaking to the empty street. "Guy gets distracted by some crap and then 'BAM!' A saucy beastie shows up to dish out a beatdown. See, I know exactly how this works, duck-lady, so if you can just get it over with already—"

His voice cut off as he was suddenly engulfed by a cold, slimy grasp that clung to his body like the bulging muscular coils of an icy python. Whatever it was lifted him bodily off the ground, and when he looked down, he saw that the arm gripping him wasn't just one arm— it was several severed limbs threaded together haphazardly, swollen veins tracing along its messily stitched-together skin as rotted brown blood oozed freely down its length, spattering against the asphalt below.

"Oh, that's freakin' gross," the Merc with a Mouth said with great feeling, trying to claw himself free to no avail. "That's actually really gross. I think I'm gonna hurl—"

The hideously mutated arm whipped in the air, hurling him across the street. His body collided with the exterior of a cute little townhouse with an immense SMASH, crashing through the rotten siding in a barrage of shattered wood and debris.

With a hearty groan, Goji-Pool stirred from amid the rubble, a thick cloud of dust and fragmented insulation raining down around him in a shuddering veil. He lay sprawled across a soft couch, his large tail lying haphazardly on the lacquered wooden coffee table, splitting it right down the middle.

As he laid there, an ominous shadow spilled from the jagged gash in the side of the house, casting across his fallen form. It writhed and stretched grotesquely, steadily growing larger as it fell over him like a dark, shadowy curtain.

The lizard glanced up with bleary eyes, the white lenses of his mask squinting against the harsh rays of sunlight leaking around the hulking silhouette towering above him.

"Wow, okay," he complained, leveraging himself up and onto his feet. His tail smacked against the ground with a meaty, irritated thwack. "I bet this house was worth a pretty penny, and you just... went and wrecked it with a big ol' hole, totally trashing its property value. Do you even know what the housing market is like right now?! If you try to resell this place now, you'll be lucky to get enough for a freakin’ Happy Meal!"

A beat of silence passed them by, the monster merely gaping uselessly at him, its disgustingly-assembled shoulders heaving with strain. Sewn together with barbed wire and dripping with putrid brown ichor, it shuddered and convulsed in a ghoulish parody of life, soulless eyes staring unblinkingly into his own— rancid grave-stench seeping off its frame, the smell so eye-searing and oppressive it was a wonder there weren’t visible stink lines wiggling around its head.

It reminded him of one of those… brachycephalic dog breeds, actually, with how much of a struggle merely breathing seemed to be for the creature. Like a bulldog or a pug or something. You know? One of those. Only this thing didn’t have the added benefit of being all (debatably) cute and cuddly.

After a moment, Goji-Pool's shoulders slumped, his white eye-lenses turning to indignant slits. "Riiight. You're just a big… fleshy meatball of a creature. You have no idea about the complexities of real estate investing, do ya, beefcake?" he shook his head. ”Then again, neither does duck-lady, so I think she’s lost the plot on this one.”

The creature unleashed an unholy, hoarse roar that sounded like the combined screams of an entire choir, charging straight for him. Its hulking corpse-body wobbled and flagellated about with every step, its grotesque feet squelching as they dragged across the ground, the air around its stampeding body turned thick with the sickly sweet stench of decay.

Eyes widening, Goji-Pool haphazardly dove to the side as one of the corpse gestalt’s mighty arms swung out and slammed into where he'd been standing just a mere second before. With a wild crash, the sofa behind him was hurled through the other wall in a hail of splintered wood, crushed stuffing, and shattered windows, undoubtedly further damaging the house's resale value.

“Un-fuckin’-believable.”

Don't thank me, thank @Arthur Morgan

 

[Lilith]

Grimy rain trickled onto a diminutive boat, gently pitter-pattering against its sullied, faded paint, the lustrous kingly purple finish peeling off and laying bare the engraved imprint - 'Syntech'. Convoluted as the flow of space-time, the perplexing storm poured down, up, and sideways, some droplets even halting altogether, suspended like they had like they had forgotten the concept of gravity, losing all sense of purpose and direction, so overwhelmed with choice they were paralyzed and instead went nowhere at all.

The vessel coasted along the inundated avenues of the reawakened city, sloshing through bevies of rancid, decomposing fish, varnishing its hull in aquatic viscera. Long since robbed of oxygen and purity, the defiled ocean was uninhabitable for any being, save for the distorted unlife brought forth by the Fallen Arbiter. Exuding from the bloated, floating masses of scaled corpses, a pungent, acrid miasma suffused the passengers of the ship - a stench more foul than any expired sushi, enough to make any pescatarian swear off seafood for life.

The distinct lack of Skysnobs screaming and fleeing in terror, the deceptively calm ambience; the catatonic placidity that seemed ready to pop at any moment, yet never doing so. It all pissed Lilith off to end. Was Nausicaa trying to lure her in, gulling her into dropping her guard? What an idiotic ploy, if that was the case. Lilith was more than thrilled to return to the scene of the crime. She had made her presence known to the universe, forced the Crossroads to acknowledge her monstrous elegance, her villainous artistry. And most importantly, it marked the genesis of her and Ridley's relationship. It should've been romantic, returning to where they and their first date!

The news they would have to separate, however, nearly broke Lilith's vile heart into a million depraved pieces. It must have been a cruel joke, surely. Fate was a cruel bitch not even she could match. Just one more thing to add to the ever-expanding list of reasons to hate Darkseid. And to top off the one-two guts punch, arriving in this accursed place had shrunk her pet abomination. She had earnestly rubbed Nothing There in an attempt to soothe its minimized form, despite the fact it had no reaction to the change. Her flesh suit remained snug, though perhaps tighter fitting, as she stood at the ship's forefront, as she gawked at the surrealist landscape.

Obsidian obelisks carved with abstruse symbology soared to interminable heights, radiating auras of infernal corruption. Contorting spires of countless leviathans precariously teetered and lurched, leading Lilith to wonder if they too were the limbs of a greater pelagic beast. Yet more impossibly tall structures surrounded her, vaguely residential buildings twisting, folding in on themselves, and repeating sections in ways that defied all reason, scintillating with soporific lanterns that strained her brain to watch. Colossi stretching high, marveling and musing at the insignificant ants below. A significantly worse state than she remembered leaving the city in, on the whole. Completely unrecognizable from the sprawl of ruined architecture it used to be, even further removed from the opulent island that had once hovered proud, arrogant.

There were no slivers of fond memories here. They should stay buried and untainted within the depths, beyond any god's reach.

A permeating gloom lurked over the soldiers aboard the ship. Lilith was the de facto leader of the squad, as only common infantry were assigned to this mission — it would've been futile to have an authority competing with the abnormality-woman hybrid. She did not relish commanding the dozen or so Syntech lackeys, though. Having them assist her was practically suicide, and she was in no mood to provide cover. They were useless baggage only slowing her down, far as she was concerned. But, she couldn't discount how hilarious their horrible deaths would be, and so she accompanied the convoy, if only to let them head first into danger and get her own source of cheap entertainment.

The soldiers appeared rather dull, on that subject. Probably couldn't have much fun with them, Lilith supposed. Their opaque helmets obscured their unreadable expressions, visors like dim blacklights. She knew the suffocating silence had them on edge, one in particular lingering close by and frantically fidgeting. Perhaps she could liven things up a bit.

Lilith swiveled round to regard her wary regiment, clearing her throats. “Well, aren't you all tense. Can't have you fighting like that. Luckily, I know just how to fix that right up. Everyone! Raise your hands if you wanna join my morale boosting exercise. The more the merrier~”

Her offer was met with a resounding quiet, at first. The idea of having any sort of intimate contact with Lilith was repugnant as is. And she wanted to fornicate with the entire squad, at the same time, while wearing that abomination's skin? No one amongst the crew could decide what was worse — the proposition, or that, given her bond's capabilities, she could modify her body parts to actually engage in a simultaneous orgy. Seeing such unspeakable degeneracy in action would be cause for the troops to pull their emergency self-destructs.

The meek soldier hesitantly raised their hand, however.

“See?” Lilith rested a meaty palm on the sheepish volunteer's skull. “At least one of ya's got moxie.”

“I-it would- It is an honor to serve you, Ms. Lilith,” the young woman squeaked beneath her helmet. “M-maybe that can wait until after the mission?” Going a round with the sadomasochist was likely not beneficial to her short-term health. “I'm a… big fan of yours, yes. And I'd like to ask a few questions.” She fumbled with some device under her vest before it clicked.

“Hm…” Lilith pondered for a moment. She was feeling lonely, and she appreciated this lady's dedication. “Sure, go for it.” She leaned down to the zealous soldier's level. “But I'm holding you to your promise.”

“Y-yes ma'am! By the way, I'm rep-” The woman caught herself as she omitted the unnecessary detail. “Jenny. Just Jenny. Okay…” The definitely-not-a-reporter-in-disguise breathed in, not letting her anxiety get in the way of a hard-hitting interview. “First… About the Nausicaa Incident, what motivated you to get involved.”

“Saw an opportunity to massacre, so I did,” Lilith bluntly replied.

“What about the Unmade?”

“Ah, well, after I met Master, he ordered me to hunt them. I didn't see the point initially, but I wasn't going to refuse a superior predator.” Lilith's ligaments shuddered as she recalled her and Ridley's first encounter.

“So you're only against the Unmaking because Ridley is?”

Lilith scoffed. “Don't get the wrong idea. I have my own reasons for revenge. It's not just 'evil', it's a universe-ending cataclysm, and that kinda gets in the way of my murdering, and Lord Ridley's pirating. Honestly, it's pathetic Wyvern has to waste resources eradicating it, cause obviously the rest of the Crossroads won't do it themselves.”

“It sounds like you guys have big plans,” Jenny commended. “And what will you do after that?”

“When I give Ridley head- I mean- When Ridley has Darkseid's head, every world will learn to fear Wyvern! And, uh… Other stuff I'm sure.”

“We—”

Before the impromptu interview could progress any further, the ship made landfall at a coast of grassy roots, as the storm clouds overhead parted to reveal harsh sunlight.

“Yeah, anyways, I gotta get this over with,” Lilith waved a casual hand, then vaulted over the boat railing and into the mass of defiled flora and fauna.

The place had the overall shape of a park, except entirely swamped in green foliage. Vaguely human shaped husks lumbered about the areas, flesh and bone transfused into roots and vines, dotted with pustules of orange corruption. A massive monstrosity sprang from the ground in front of the fountain at the center, guarding it seemingly. The creature was covered head to stump in more of the orange tumors, glowing maggots festering in its wooden core.

“Psh, a giant plant? Alright, let's burn this place to the ground!” Lilith's hands turned to giant cleavers as she prepared to clip the Blightwalker down.

1,348 words

 

[Nico Cinder]

"You think we should...leave? Or should we go see if he's dead?" The soldier took a steady drag from her cigarette, staring at the shivering chittering hall. It had been quite some hours since Nico Cinder gave himself to the House of Meat, The Chittering Hall. Despite being fighters, warriors, none of the soldiers present seemed to mind the symbiote host's order to hold the perimeter of the building. Perhaps even trained killers become bored with their craft - or recognize an overwhelming force when it makes itself known.

"Aren't those the same thing?" her squadmate replied, their tinctured voice coming through the headset earpiece.

-----

Nico's eyes scanned the blinking lights in the white light of Sam's chest cavity, and came to the conclusion that he had little idea what any of them meant. No, he was better suited for focusing on the rhythm of combat, and what a beautiful beat he and Sam made together. Despite the endless and seemingly random ambushes they faced, Nico felt that he was getting better at predicting the strikes as they appeared, the sounds the flesh made as it shifted. It showed; they could easily support two teams of flag football players with the amount of little tendrils and bone whips they've snapped and sliced in half. Tie 'em around the little tykes' waists, and they're good to go.

The stairs, if you could call them that, considering they scarcely serve their purpose anymore, were rotted all the way through. Half way down the stairwell the wooden steps had given way to walls of that disgusting green organic material, and abyss. Down, down the hole, an intense emerald light was projected, bent from the strain of distance and glistening shadows. It thumped and badumped, the light behind the flesh riding the sound all the way down, to that glowy-gooey center. The walls, they whirred to life, bone tipped appendages schlunking themselves off the mass of meat. They shivered menacingly at the symbiote's perch at the edge, like the tails of angry rattlesnakes.

"Don't bother, worms," Nico spat, staking each of Sam's limbs into whatever surface he could find. As Sam's head melted away to reveal the massive cannon constructed by his frame, he could not help but feel that this is something that another host of his may have said, at some point, with similar disdain. The current host felt the weight of rows of missiles as they stacked themselves pleasantly on the symbiote's shoulders. Before the first tentacle could jab and jive all the way up to reach them, rockets began firing off wildly, smacking into everything and anything organic. Smoke soon filled the hole in the staircase, and several spikes of hardened bone shot through the haze, sinking into Sam's legs, one in the abdomen. Nico and the Symbiote howl in rage more than pain, launching the final payload at the end of the missile falsetto. As it left the cannon in a shower of sparks, the mortar punched a hole through the smoke. The green light shone brightly.

Sam's head came back with a vicious growl as quick as it could, his left arm freeing itself and severing the tendrils that had lodged themselves into his body. Sam launched himself, letting loose another bloodthirsty howl with bladed arms raised, into the hole the mortar shell had made in the smoke. Falling, falling, chasing the bomb, straight to the heart. It was the only way, Nico knew. Vines of flesh and bone and mystery meat shot from the walls, trying to catch or harpoon the creature, but the malefactor cut them all down as it fell, spinning and dancing and bouncing in the rainstorm of green blood. Halfway down Sam and Nico made it, before the shell they had sent combusted into a brilliant white light, swallowing everything.

Everything except the silhouette of Sam, who was furiously tearing away at the mass of tentacles and meat at the bottom of the hole, as the explosion carried on. The heart, it was here. Nico knew it. The green light around them shuddered and spasmed, dying as it was enveloped by white light. The beat quickened. The crescendo was coming.

"I'm so hungry..." Nico and Sam growled, before screaming as one. "I COULD EAT YOUR FUCKING HEART OUT!"

----
The ground outside the Chittering Hall shook. Soldiers jostled their gear, and scanned their surroundings, but did little else that might imply worry, or fear, or concern. If it was truly so terrible, they would surely all be dead in a few moments, and nothing could be done about it. The soldier who first presented the idea of trying to get a sitrep from inside the building was down to her second to last cigarette - only the lucky remained, aside from the one that was being placed in her mouth and lit. She stared at the building, and leaned on the butt of her massive rifle.

"Still wanna go in and see if he's okay?" the same voice came, gargled by radio static in her ear.

"No, but I can't exactly say I'm too keen on missing the show, either."

854~ words

 

[Karl Jak]

Updates:

Krampus and Phantoon and Deadpool* suffer Minor Injuries
Sam and Nothing there suffer Major Injurie

Please write a short resolution post (something in the ballpark of 500 words is okay), and then the Boss Zone will be unlocked (after posting resolutions, I'll just need a confirmation from the group to trigger that encounter)

*he'll heal this with one application of Focus prior to the boss encounter

 

[Ridley]

Ridley would love to refer to this as a glorious victory, as Phantoon’s cuts dug into it’s skin. It could generously be called a dramatic victory, but overall, there was a pile of dust slowly dissolving and assaulting Phantoon’s exposed eye and a bunch of Helldivers successfully undercutting any satisfaction he might’ve got with immature hooting and hollering>

Phantoon, for his own part, was satisfied - the sheer level of relief and satisfaction Phantoon communicated through their mental link was positively gluttonous and disgusting. Yet, Ridley had to admit the creature had proven itself, once it reigned in it’s temper.

Still, Ridley was left staring at the dusty statue of the Amphitheater horror, and wondering what else was left to destroy in this island. Lilith had likely already utilized her talent for chaos and destruction to lay waste to her own opponent.

The space Dragon inside of an Eldritch Cephalopod’s body was left to ponder what Darkseid had left on this island that could challenge them. Perhaps before beginning this battle - before beginning his stay in this miniature hell known as the Crossroads - he would have simply claimed the outcome was not in doubt, looking forward to the combat to come. And obviously that was still true, Ridley would have no problem crushing whatever general to come even alone.

But there were more battles to come, and the Dragon’s thoughts now turned to strategy. This was no grand climactic battle. This was a speed bump before the final confrontation, and Ridley wanted the rest of his minions to enter the next battle in peak condition - at least, until it was time for the spoils to be gathered. Then, it might be time to thin those who were not obviously useful from their ranks…


Wyvern’s biggest obstacle remained the unknown threat the Unmade had left him, though, not prize contention. For now, it was far more important to utilize their pawns, willing or not, like the little chess pieces they were - and under the gaze and care of the old Wyrm, and by the strength Phantoon still possessed in spades, he was confident he could take Darkseid’s commander down without losing a piece. And then, he would sent this abyssal failure of a city back down to the depths to rot, where it belonged.

382 words

 

[Nico Cinder]

The building collapsed as the contingency of Syntech forces being led by Nico, who for all they knew lie dead at the bottom of all that smoke and rubble and god-knows-what-else, watched with a modicum of interest. The smoke lingered for longer than anyone would care to admit. Even as the writhing silhouette of the R3V3N63 materialized on the path, the haze lingered behind it. Sam and Nico ambled up to their troops. Sam's carnivorous teeth were visible, drawn in a tight zigzag line across his face below the eyes where most mouths lie. Most mouths weren't covered in blood and viscera though, if you asked most people. Most.

Nico's face appeared as the mask peeled away to finish its scraps. "We're done here right? I wanna be done."

A soldier in the crowd smoking an exceptionally lucky cigarette tilted her head, holding her hand out to her squadmate on the left, who placed a wad of colorful paper into the open palm. Easy day, easy pay. "I'd say so, aye."

Nico wasn't looking too hot. Somehow he was bleeding, several small cuts crossing his brow. Sam's organic matter was shivering and loose around the chestplate, bits of exoskeleton exposed and begging to be shot at or ripped out. Looks can be deceiving though, because god DAMN did the two of them feel good. Like they just got out of a swimming pool with a beer on a hot day, or had their lunch paid for after a hard day's work. It's good to stretch your legs while you have them.

259 w

 

[Christopher Chaos]

Krampus’ foot slammed down on top of the Molded’s chest. The creature’s disgusting, grey skin folded beneath the force of the blow.

It is done, the monster sighed.

Victor stepped out of the shadows of the antechamber’s edge, glancing down at their crushed enemy, then back up to his Bond. He watched the monster’s breathing, watched as its chest heaved up and down, and pondered, for a moment, the life it must’ve lived before coming here.

A time as a thrall of Darkseid into… whatever it had done after that, before being rounded up like a wild animal and thrust into this murder island? The doctor couldn’t imagine. And he’d spent the entirety of this game so far just trying to force it, once again, into another holding pattern, attempting to enslave it once again. He would admit that at first glance, it had looked like nothing more than a beast — but still, so verbal and so thoughtful, how could he have discounted it? How could he have entered into this arrangement with so little empathy for the creature, with so little trust in its abilities?

They’d all said Nora couldn’t be saved. The moment she’d been afflicted with… with the Fallen Arbiter’s corruption. It was too late, they’d said.

But he was looking, now, upon proof that maybe — just maybe — it wasn’t. The Krampus had bent to Darkseid’s will, but now it stood here, with him.

There’d been a saying in their household, before Nora had succumbed to the corruption, before he’d had to cryofreeze her. Whenever he was obsessing over an unsolvable problem, losing hope, faltering in his faith in his experiment, in science itself… Nora would look at him with such fervor in her glassy blue eyes, and she’d say, “Chip away.”

Don’t focus on what you can’t solve, Victor, he reminded himself. One thing at a time — and the rest will come.

“Let’s go,” the scientist scowled. “I believe the others may be waiting for us. There’s more fight to be had yet.”

Let’s, the Krampus said.

A different response than he’d given before — not ‘as you wish.’ It threatened to bring a smile to Victor’s chilling features, some warmth to his cold heart.

Chip away.

370 words

 

[Lilith]

The brawl turned messy. Unsurprising for Lilith's type. She clobbered the corrupt vegetation with titanic fleshy fists, their size even more ludicrous next to her diminished proportions. The animate plant summoned towering stalks of roots and vines to batter Nothing There across the diseased environment. The density of the growths stymied Lilith's onslaught. The pestilent thing regrew from the partial scrapes she landed. Should've expected that. She was about as effective as mowing a field of reeds with a pocketknife. Not good enough.

Lilith needed a clear hit. Morphed into massive cleavers, Nothing There's arms chopped the Blightwalker like shears to a stubborn weed. Its top half went sailing through the air, bleeding streaks of gleaming saccharine syrup. The result should've been obvious under the blistering daylight. Instead, the bisected Blightwalker sank into the lush ground, its twitching stump following suit, disappearing within the verdant sea.

‘See you soon!’ exclaimed Nothing There.

The cowardly act nettled Lilith. She pounced for the grass monster as it dipped out of sight, digging into the earth, displacing an acre of diseased turf in her mad pursuit. No sign of the slippery prick. In the end she was left empty-handed, with only a vast crater and the stench of fresh hedge clippings and decayed fruit for her troubles. She had dealt with burrowing enemies before. Could the Blightwalker be that fast? Maybe. She should've seen an auraprint at least. But she didn't get the slightest hint where her prey had escaped to.

Nothing There's eyes flicked around, scouring for any trace of movement. Much of the squad accompanying Lilith had devolved to sylvan zombies, bodies assimilated by stems, leaves, and moss. That fanatical reporter/stalker seemed to avoid the worst of it, hiding behind the remaining soldiers. How the woman managed to get involved here was surely an interesting story, but Lilith didn't care to investigate.

Why couldn't she find it? Was it simply a form of cloaking? She could read the Blightwalker's energy aboveground, pointless as that was. Unless… the environment and it were one and the same, indistinguishable from each other. That's the only explanation that made sense.

Still, her realization didn't bring Lilith any closer to the plant-based bastard. She wasn't going to just wait around until it showed its ugly face again. Grabbing her shoulder, she pulled her arm into Nothing There's torso, similar to reaching inside a shirtsleeve, and searched her bond's entrails for another wonderfully soothing syringe. She performed the ritual as before, reinforcing the addictive habit. Didn't she deserve it? She needed it to power through to the end.

“Aahhh…”

Lilith's awareness languished as she entered a hypnotic state, her living suit of assemblaged organs floating like stardust through space, the world melting together into muddled shapes tinted… pink? That was unusual. Not exactly how she remembered it before. She shook her head, coughed, and blinked away the haze.

When the intoxicating mist subsided, pain revealed itself to Lilith, plunging into her chest and crawling throughout limbs. Then she beheld the plant beast, its jaws agape, twiggy tongue transmitting and embedding its parasitic brood in Nothing There, while thorned vines restrained and stretched the unwilling larva host in all directions like a botanic torture rack.

Lilith squirmed as she felt the sickly maggots worming their way inside her second skin, teasing at infiltrating her body proper. While she enjoyed the occasional plant monster - and this one hit all the right spots - she was hardly an obsessive dendrophile. Her perversions wouldn't get in the way, not this time at least.

Despite Lilith excluding greens from her palate, she was going to toss this salad.

Bones jutted out from Nothing There like a skeletal urchin, excising the larva in a shower of orange pus. Its arms each became half of a gargantuan maw, large enough to swallow an airplane whole, and clamped down on the Blightwalker, cutting off the defiled beast from the sun. Voracious teeth gnawed and devoured it from every side. The Blightwalker clawed at its predatory prison, tried tearing out with enervated branches, but received no escape.

Nothing There had its fill of the foul shrubbery, spitting out the digested detritus. Noxious green mush splattered against the ground, tinged with smatterings of tangerine gunk. A poor excuse for compost, if used as such.

Though the plant creature's vines had entertained Lilith, nothing was superior to some tried and true tentacles. Hopefully that'd be in store for her future.

Used 1 Refined Enkephalin to heal 2 minor injuries