[BSD-RP] Human World: Naruki City

Shinigami

Administrator
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The determination of this Shinigami is a sight to behold with every action he takes giving the hellspawn no time or room to breath. The strength, power, and brutality of the Tenth Division Captain seems unstoppable as before he can even finish his sentence he is upon him once again. The man summons up spires of crystals at his arms, a luminescent glow radiates from them before a violent spin is made by the Shinigami launching a vast amount of crystal shards, far too many to count. If the crystals had been launched in a straightforward manner this would have been no issue to deal with, what made it troubling was the fact that his spinning placed these innumerable crystals in his blind spot as well. To solidify the disparity the Sinner should be feeling is that the Shining Commander himself seems to be hurdling in his direction, the Commanders goal for launching this attack is unknown and for the most part, meaningless.
The chains of hell are not easily broken or shattered. If that were the case they would have been removed long ago. These very same chains are an extension of a Togabito’s body; they move and control them freely. Their restraints double as a means of attack and/or defense. Looking into the emerald depths of certain oblivion the masked man does the one thing he can think of to ensure his survival and it all starts with a flick of his wrist. These once invisible chains show themselves winding and twisting up from his feet until they quickly surround his body from head to toe and with a flick of his opposite wrist they tighten. Now mummified its vision is obscured but survival has now become certain as these nigh indestructible chains take the brunt of the emerald hurricane that now sparks and ricochettes off the encased man. The Commander's sharp Reiatsu was unknown to the man but it would take a force greater than that to sever these chains.
Encased in the very same cocoon that he had used to crush and terrorize the fullbringers earlier. The Togabito attempts to regain his advantage. As the crystalline shards shred and terrorize the interior of the barrier, the Togabito looks through the links, trying to lock his eyes upon the Shining Commander. A flurry of green emerald and shining light makes this all but impossible, as the small shards cut and tear at the cracks between the chains, embedding themselves deep into the Togabito’s limbs before exploding like hollow point bullets. Yet despite this struggle, despite this pain, the Togabito still remains resolved, its eyes frantically scattering about.
However, the moment it witnesses the form of Kagayaki, it is far too late for its invisible hands to wrap around the man. Instead, the Commander’s momentum carries him, appearing from the mist of crystals and reiatsu like a ghost, seemingly familiar with how to utilize such phantom-like stealth. Kagayaki collides with the mummified Sinner and causes him to fly backwards, rebounding off of the barrier. The chains may be strong and they may have saved him from being cut to ribbons but he was not spared from the impact from the Commander. Through the chains blood sprays out, internals damaged from the sheer force, both from in front, where he took Kagayaki’s devastating blow, and from behind, where his own hands failed to cushion him from the impact against the barrier.
The Togabito was truly locked in Checkmate. Unable to utilize its abilities, unable to see, unable to defend itself completely, and unable to escape. It resists all of these inevitabilities until the very end. However, the shattering impact of Higen’s strike was enough to rupture the organs it had attempted to protect. Within the chains, blood splatters throughout, contrasting red against the emerald green. After the Sinner rebounds off the barrier, it falls limp to the ground, the chains surrounding it now unravelling. What is revealed, is the tattered and torn remains of a broken creature. It’s limbs are completely shredded, held on by ribbons and bone. Its chest is concaved, its back broken, resulting it laying in an unnatural twisted mess. However, the mask remains intact, blood pouring from its seams.
A pool of the creature’s blood forms atop the barrier's floor. The red liquid reveals the Sinner’s secret ability, its invisible hands now rendered visible as they are encased in blood, leaving their imprints upon the floor. What is left inside of this emerald prison, is a complete and utter mess, both of a Togabito, and of the blood, chains, crystal shards, and hands, that are scattered and littered about the floor. All the Togabito is able to muster is a bloodied cough, one final...
”A-.....chem..”
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The sun shines down on the ruins of the city. Though smoke rises from the spires of broken buildings, melting asphalt, and the relentless Hell Gate, it is otherwise a beautiful day. The freshly risen sun shines bright across a clear blue sky. It is a breath of fresh air, a sign of life, of peace. Those who were able to survive the night to see this day are finally able to relax, the threat at last having reached its end. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, The Shinigami can breathe a breath of fresh air. The time for strife was over, now is the time for recovery, for peace.
It lasts but a moment.

The sound of a grating static rips through the air, as a pathway which should never exist rips through the fabric of reality. Above, space begins to tear open at the seams, creating a void of black. This mouth-like tear screams out, its voice vibrating through the Shinigami’s very bones. Then just as suddenly, the silence of the day returns. Only now, the peaceful sun-lit day is replaced by the imposing form of a Garganta, which dwarfs the city in comparison to its size.
It had appeared without warning, as Garganta tend to do. Higen, who had witnessed a Garganta of similar proportions open in the Rukongai just moments prior, would be encased within his own barrier, likely his attention focused on the freshly deceased Togabito. While Yu, focused on maintaining his barrier to Hell, would likely only be thinking of the casualties that would surmount right now from a Garganta’s Invasion. Was the Human world about to be ransacked by Gillian? Or worse…by their Arrancar masters? Could it be that the Espada have reformed? That the God King has returned, or a new one risen to the title? The spiritually attuned souls that remain in the vicinity, such as Shoumetsu and Martin, are sure to have their necks craned as they look upward, awaiting a relief to their suspense.
Why had this portal arrived, why here? Was there another that had formed in Karakura, where the other Togabito was currently fighting Lieutenants Omoni and Jinnosuke? Was this perhaps related to such a fight? The more intuitive might now begin to wonder, why exactly was the togabito here, why did it stay idle, why did it engage so many? Was its purpose to stall, to distract, or was it to defend the gate? If so...what for? Could it be that the arrival of this garganta was what the Togabito were waiting for, what they were here for in the first place?
Two gates of utter evil, bridge the gap between the realms of the living, and the tormented dead. One in the heavens, composed of darkness, and one on earth, composed of hell fire.
As above, so below.
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No invasion arrives. The stillness of the garganta bares down on those who are burdened with anticipation. No hands of Hollows, masks of Arrancar, nor power of the God King comes through. No, the being that formed this gateway is one outside of the purview of both Hueco Mundo and Soul Society. What's worse, is this shadow figure appears to be in some sort of league with the denizens of Hell. Yet, it cannot be of Hell itself, or else how would it summon such a massive Garganta, and not appear forth from a Hell Gate like the other Togabito? What was going on? This Garganta was clearly kin with the one that had manifested in and destroyed the Rukongai. That one had absorbed within it the entirety of the Soul King’s Blood. So what, in the Human World, could this one be after?
Gurgggggle
A new sound emanates from the void of darkness, a thick, guttural, gurgling. It is the sound of rushing water, only….slower...heavier. Finally, from the black, red begins to form, and drip. Directly beneath the Garganta, droplets of thick red liquid begin to rain down onto the city. A precursor to something much more devastating, the rain of blood flows more rapidly, its fall grows thicker, stronger, until finally, the Garganta’s contents become revealed. A torrent of steaming blood rains down from the heavens, pouring from the garganta, an open wound in the sky.
The waterfall of blood collides against the city below. It hits like a tsunami as it spreads throughout the city. A tidal wave of crimson, it pushes out in all directions across the city. Buildings drown along with their occupants, entire skyscrapers collapse from the force. As sirens begin to blare throughout the entire city, citizens run through the streets in a futile attempt to escape their own fate. No one is safe, and nothing is sacred, as this torrent of blood carves through the Human’s World.
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Those that are spiritually aware fare even worse. The steaming blood is not so destructive simply from its abundant quantity, but from its very properties. Being the Blood of the Soul King, this is no mundane miasma. It holds within it the power to absorb Reishi, or rather, to reclaim it once more for the Soul King, converting it back into his blood. This means that weaker concentrations of reishi, such as pluses, roaming hollows, some quincy, and fullbringers, are all consumed by the substances, incapable of escaping its wave.
The entourage in front of the Hell Gate would take the brunt of the tidal wave’s force. Two hundred feet of viscous red liquid comes barreling towards them, smashing through buildings and debris with ease. A direct impact upon the Shinigami would result in catastrophic injuries from the momentum of the wave alone, let alone the damage caused by its Reishi absorbing properties, or the high possibility of them drowning, incapable of swimming through such strong currents. Without proper preparation, they are likely to die, even more so the regular human, who’s spiritual awareness would do very little to protect his very mortal body. Fortunately, Captain Nakamoto is proficient enough in Bakudo to likely be able to form a secondary barrier around them. While Martin may only hope that the Seireitei’s Angel was more lenient towards oppositional souls than that of the Shining Commander.
A master in bakudo, Captain Yu’s Dankū barrier serves its purpose well. So long as he is able to maintain it, the translucent lens of the Dankū kido does not crack or crumble. It holds itself, vacuum sealed, against the Hell Gate. While Shoumetsu’s Shikai, which attracts his blade towards whatever it magnetizes, allows him to utilize the hell gate as an anchor point, so long as he can maintain his grip on his blade. While Higen’s own barrier, a product of the artifact he keeps concealed upon his person, is also capable of withstanding the reishi converting effects of the Soul King’s Blood. The emerald barrier, after all, is not a product of Higen himself, but the combined efforts of the master’s of the Kido Corps. Therefore, the majority of the group remains protected, while Higen ensures that the Togabito’s corpse remains entrapped within the barrier.
However, this also means, that Naruki is unlike Karakura, where the open maw of the hell gate worked to drain the flooded city of the Soul King’s Blood. Here, the hell gate remains sealed, the drain therefore clogged. Here, the blood remains, and stagnates. Naruki drowns in an ocean of blood. A stagnant body of water two hundred feet deep. The only thing that can be seen of the city are the very tops of the remnants of its tallest buildings.
Within the depths of this crimson ocean, Higen’s Barrier remains strong. Its emerald green light able to reveal one crucial detail. The walls of the barrier had entrapped the Togabito, but like anything else, were incapable of severing its chains. That means that the black chains of hell were simply pinned within the walls, and still connected the Togabito to the hell gate. However, the chains outside of the barrier are now entrenched in the blood. The Sinner’s chains rattle within the red waters, muffled, and then silent. As the black iron links begin to erode, rusting, until they rot away into nothing at all, completely dissolved. Amidst this chaos….the Togabito is freed.
Then, the Garganta closes as suddenly as it had arrived, folding in on itself until black once more gives way to blue skies. As though in response to this, the wrought iron doors of the Hell Gate come to life. The doors begin to close, their strength only increasing as Yu’s barrier struggles to keep them sealed. It seems futile, as cracks finally begin to form within the clear platform of Yu’s Kido, before the entirety of the spell shatters, and the doors slam shut. On each side, a skeleton, permanently affixed to each door, moves through the blood, and reaches across to grab the other's ribcage, pulling themselves shut tight. Then finally, a familiar black chain spawns from behind the gate, and wraps itself around Hell’s entrance repeatedly, until this too pulls tight, permanently sealing the thing shut. With this, the closed gate erupts into flames beneath the ocean, boiling the crimson ichor that surrounds it, until the gate utlimately burns away from existence, leaving not a trace.
In the end, Naruki is rendered an open and festering wound. Flooded in red, Higen’s domain becomes a cesspool of blood. No easy mess to clean, countless lives were taken this day, and the blood of this catastrophic event is not simply contained to the city’s borders. Rather, it rests upon the hands of all those who had come to the World of the Living today. It stains the pristine white Haoris of Captain Nakamoto, and Captain Commander Kagayaki. For eternity, this nightmare will stain the minds of all who have witnessed it, and continue to flood their thoughts and dreams. They may have been able to hinder the Hell Spawn’s plans, preventing it from receiving an aspect of the Soul King. But at what cost?
What is left, is a scar on the human world, and a scar in the pride of all races. Hell had delivered a crippling blow, had revealed its hand and played its cards, while the rest of existence were forced to question what game they were even playing.
...How very interesting.
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Shinigami

Administrator
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" I can't believe I've been here for four days.... "
Kiku stood in the sky near a group of kido corps members, who were actively using Bakudō #77. Tenteikūra (天挺空羅, Heavenly Rickshaws in Silken Air; Viz "Heavenly Charged Sky Net") This way they could communicate with each other at instant speeds while transporting information found and if anyone got too close to the area, they were swiftly dealt with by Fifth Division members. Kiku had control of a handful of shinigami yet only utilized five and himself to clean up and communicate via the kido, with Tenth Division while they protected Fifth in this effort to clean up Naruki.
Which as it was wrapping up and the small amount of Fifth Division members Kiku brought were closing the carefully confined and sealed compartments of Soul king blood and getting ready to take them back to soul society, Kiku couldn't help but to feel as if things were going too according to plan. He suspiciously eyed the area around them.
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Up in the clouds like usual, Kiku had just seen a group of birds take flight from the sounds of the city. Also, notice the last containment box of blood was being packed into secure processions with Kido Corps markings on it. What has left of it anyway? The miasma had been sucked from one portal to the next, all within a matter of hours of the event happening. Kiku was there for the initial explosion of it in the Rukongai District in Soul Society. Rubbing his eyes he would pull down the half mask he was so fond of keeping over his face.
" The world of the living has such nice environments, The bustle of the city just makes these same weathers we have in Seireitei feel much more alive. Hmm, I wonder what Captain Oda thinks of this world." The Orange, blue and pink skies had soft white clouds floating around. Soon the transport would be packed and hidden with kido by the trustful members of Fifth Division. Kiku only wished things stayed this coordinated and well going for them.
" You there! " Kiku would look over to a Fifth Division member standing next to the edge of the cloud formation they were floating on. " Send word to The ones appointed as the Senkaimon guards and tell them we should be preparing to enter the Soul Society within the next hour, with precious materials that need to be taken with haste to the confines of the Kido Corps Headquarters immediately. Anyone who stops this task is attempting treason, do you hear me. " The Fifth division member looked over with a sudden jerk as Kiku talked without his mask.
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The man was startled, Kiku's voice seemed to drop a tone and become much more serious. It was as if talking to a completely new person. The Shinigami silently said yes and swallowed hard any retort he tried to think of on the spot. He examined Kiku closely and the white-haired shinigami simply smiled and closed his eyes before bowing and nodding.
Kiku would then slide his arms out of his upper shirt and allow himself to take the whole purple undershirt, containing the face mask with it off. Revealing a simple white undershirt beneath. He took the purple shirt and then tucked it gently into his haori. The man he gave orders to would then disappear in a shunpo to see his words were delivered to the gatekeepers. Kiku in the same tone would then look over to the Kido Corps member channeling the Bakudō #77. Tenteikūra.
" Tell Tenth we are ready to leave as soon as they are. " And so the message was sent. Kiku would then turn and lazily watch the clouds drift over the living world. The cars and construction honked and blared. People below in protest and mourning. The Living world was a vivid audio board of horror to behold. Buildings in heaps and piles washed over with destruction. Workers around the clock, Living and otherwise, would clean their respective sides until there was a semblance of normalcy. He could not see their faces, but he could feel their stress and exhaustion of the Shinigami he brought here to work. Each one Kiku included had been working the four days straight.
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Shinigami

Administrator
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The faint beeping noise of a heart monitor, thousands of people talking at once, and occasional clicking of high heels and boots against laminated and tiled flooring are what stormed Tsukune's ears. After four days unconscious, and on the verge of death, he was finally starting to come to. His sight was blurred momentarily as the light of day reflected off of his vision and cast itself on the dark-haired head of a worrisome Kazuki Kuro; Tsukune's best friend.
"He's coming too!"
As usual, Haruka was with him, and the orange hair of the eleven-year-old also came into focus. Tsukune blinked twice, and began his slow ascension from the bed, using his left arm to rub his head. It felt lighter for some reason; his head did anyway. Kazuki stared back at him as he sat on the bed quietly, letting Tsukune take everything in.
"What where am I? What happened?"
Kazuki sighed, and looked out toward the window, toward the city. He and Haruka barely made it out of the zone of destruction alone. The city was saying it was a freak storm, like a tornado that blew through the city and cut everything around it. The restaurant was destroyed, and many people were dead or still missing.
"Iunno, Meatball. You tell me. You can see things people usually can't. You tell me what happened…"
He said, sitting on the window seal of the hospital room. Tsukune looked around, trying to make sense of it all himself, and how he got here. He remembered the pain in his arm. His ARM! That's right! He darted his head toward his right arm and saw bandaging, and sighed. He couldn't feel it, perhaps the pain medication was suppressing it.
" M-Meatball I…. It…."
Tsukune moved his head to Kazuki again, who stood up and moved toward him in a manner that suggests he was being prepared to comfort Tsukune. The nurse took Haruka out of the room, so she wouldn't see. Tsukune went pale himself, and lifted his right arm from the covers…. What was left of it? Tsukune gaped silently at first, his arm up to two-thirds of it was removed, gone completely. His face was a look of sheer terror and dismay… the hospital suddenly was flooded with the scream of Tsukune Furaiyori.
"TSU!"
Kazuki held back tears of his own and jumped to hold his friend as tightly as he could to muffle his screams and give him a shoulder to cry on. Tsukune's good arm felt heavy and laid there, as his friend hugged him heavily. It felt a little lighter as he continued for a while, and Tsukune lifted it over Kazuki's back. They stayed together like this for well over an hour as Tsukune couldn't stop.
"It.. It'll be alright Tsu… we're here for you…. We'll manage and do something about it somehow. You can still cook… I'll make sure of it, I swear…"
Tsukune shook his head, and let Kazuki go. It wasn't that he lost his arm that was the most upsetting part… sure it played a factor in his current depressing mood…
"He took them too… it feels like a dream but Avillo took my powers… the fire, the flames… I'm nothing now… how will I protect the people I love? The only family I have left, you and Haruka?"
Kazuki blinked, not sure what Tsukune was talking about. Kazuki felt at a loss, they understood and knew everything about each other, but Kazuki knew nothing about being a fullbring. Perhaps it was a thing Kazuki couldn't help him with. Perhaps it was a thing one of the other fullbringers he made friends with could…
Kazuki thought. What about that guy he saw Tsukune talking to before? Mikoto? Maybe he could help Tsukune, in ways Kazuki couldn't.
"Get some rest, Meatball. I have an idea. Don't give up. Not yet."
Tsukune looked tired, depressed, and angry… why not? Kazuki was angry too. Someone like this Avillo character stealing the one thing that made Tsukune feel strong and capable of protecting the people he cared about? Whatever took his arm and made it difficult to function and do what he loved most in this world? Kazuki knew he was between a rock and a hard place. Tsukune could either lay there, cry, and let the world move on around him, or he could pick himself up with the help of true friends and family, and do something about all this loss. Kazuki knew just who to call to give him a possible boost. Picking through Tsukune's clothes he sat his grandmother's frying pan next to the chef, who pulled it close, and then turning back to the clothes he rummaged to a pocket, where he kept his cell phone, and dialed the latest number, he knew had to be Mikoto's. Not sure what he could do, how he could help… it didn't matter to Kazuki right now. He left the man a message.
"Hey… this is a friend of Tsukune's… ah… we're at Naruki Hospital; Tsukune got hurt pretty bad, risked his life n all… he's upset 'bout something stealing his flames er something… was thinkin you could make sense of it all? Give me a call back… or visit… don't care."
Kazuki hung up the phone, and sighed, rubbing the back of his head.
"man I need a light…"
He said, placing an unlit cigarette in his mouth. What in the world happened out there in Tsukune's eyes?
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Shinigami

Administrator
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IMPORTANT NOTICE!
Mature content!
If you find yourself having issues with suicide, avoid reading the post!
A room that is painted in an opal hue. Within that room is but a desk, a television set, two chairs, a bed, a coffee machine and a wardrobe. The coffee’s aroma fills the room. There is a cup of coffee upon the desk. The coffee itself is slightly sour - only having but a spoonful of sugar - while it has a mellow brown color from the added milk. The aroma is mellow, a result from the coffee being fresh. The sound coming from the television is the news broadcast.
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”It has been three days since the destruction of Naruki city and Karakura town. The total amount of damage is around 50 billion yen, while the number of lives lost in this tragic occurrence makes this tragedy even bigger.”

The presenter makes a pause, her voice clearly shaken. She takes her time to calm herself, her own family part of the tragedy. A tear befalls her, as her lips once more part - her voice breaking down momentarily only to continue normally.

“It is unknown if this tragedy occured from a terrorist attack or from an unexplained natural cause. Scientists still try to find out what happened. Apart from a very small and momentary seismic activity within Nar-”
The television continues producing the sound. The broadcaster keeps speaking, her voice showing hints of what she feels. He can sense it. He can feel it within his heart - her pain. She is strong, yes; but her pain is a fact. It is not fiction. It…

s i g h

The voice of the man is heard. It’s Martin. He is currently sitting within one of the chairs. In front of him lay the cup of coffee upon the desk. To his side are three books. They are books speaking about the human’s sense of being - The Tale of Genji Scroll discussing about a human being’s sense of self, Kokoro discussing about the heart of things and lastly In Praise of Shadows discussing about the societal aesthetics.Those three books had kept company to Martin. Until today, he had been saying that he would read them. And yet; yet he never did. Until now. All three of the books discuss an aspect of what makes a human be exactly that. A human. Still, if one doesn’t utilize his logic then no result will come from reading those.
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b r i n g
The sound of Martin’s phone is heard -disturbing the peace within the room.
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b r i n g
Martin’s eyes look at the phone, it being placed upon the bed. Martin keeps his eyes on it.
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b r i n g
He lets it continue. His mind is filled with one simple thought.

‘Fuck. Off.

And yet the caller keeps persisting.
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b r i n g
Martin has had enough. His left hand opens up slightly - light forming immediately within his palm.
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b r i n - -
Finally. Peace once more. Only the sound of the television, now playing ads, ruins this peaceful ”coffin” Martin is within. The light formed within his palm quickly disappears. For the moment it came forth, the room became slightly warmer. Martin’s eyes return back to the desk. His eyes are focused on one spot on the desk. Apart from the books and the cup of coffee, one more item exists there. Martin’s handgun.

‘How… Why…’

Martin’s thoughts fill his head. Questions he knows. Answers he lacks. His eyes grow hazy, unfocused. Martin is… Lost. After all, it all felt like it happened yesterday, even if three days have come to pass. The sense of dread can still be felt. It is something that will not go away.
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The screams. The sound. Everything. It all still rang within his ears. And yet… And yet he is still here. How?
.
.
.
Martin’s eyes focus once more. He looks around. He… Is no longer within his room. For a moment, he wonders, asks himself.

‘What…?’

He is lost. And then; then he hears a voice.

“Was that all? Are you done struggling now?”

He is back. His eyes, no, his mind now translates what his eyes see. He can see this entity. He can see the Reapers. He sees the present.

“Shizuka! I need to know any and everything about this enemy that you can tell me!”

Martin hears the voice of the man. He can see his movements. His speed is fast. He moves in, a punch is all that’s needed. Martin simply stares. He views how the entity is now gone. It’s sense disappears. It’s dying. Martin nods. His lips part and his voice comes out.

“You have inju-”

His voice is stopped. No. It is still there. If one focuses far, far too deeply he will hear Martin’s voice. And yet, currently, it’s far too gone. As if… As if it never was there. It’s being drowned.
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b u r b l e
Water. The sound of water is heard! In Naruki city! A place that is away from the sea! Water! A lot of it is heard! And… Oh no… The… The water, it keeps rising. It… No.

IT

appears. As if to wash away the sinners of the world. As if to fulfill the lust for water of this earth. As if… As if to erase humanity. Gods… The wrath of them is one that makes the reality be but a simple dejected concept.
The water gushes forth. Red is its color. It’s blood. It’s heavy. It hits on Naruki City and the earth shudders. Is it from pleasure - finally filling its lust for some liquid upon the dry land? Is it from happiness - finally the tenants that never paid - the humans, who took the land for them without paying back - are to be thrown away? Or is it from sadness - that sensation coming from the fact that lives will be lost; innocent lives of people living their every single day as normal as they could. Unlike Martin. Unlike those like him. Unlike those that were before Martin, people he had not met. Unlike Shizuka - finally having learned Boomy’s name - who fought with his all to save Blacky. Blacky, who stood strong. Steadfast. And yet…
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¿  ä̴̛̠̮́͂͗́̈́̈́̅̚̕͘ ̵̢̛͍̹͚̼͚̳͋̌̀̔̊̈́̚͘̕͘̕͠͠ͅW̷̧̛̼̓̿̋̿̂̈́̌̆̉̑̀̎̚͠ ̵̭̻̮͎̲̖̥͕͉̮̑̉@̶̨̘̼̮̼͙̻̟̟̘̳̟͖͈͐́̒͗͒̃̈́̃̒̍́̕͝͝ ̸͖͔̺̫̘̥̪̐̊̓̌͝ͅḳ̵͓͈̖͇̹̯͈̲̣͈͓͒͌̇̇̅̀ ̴̨͈̞̞́̑̏͑̾̂̀͗͐̚̕͝͠͝3̶̞̥̟̝̜̯͎̗̘͋̌̽̇́͐͘ͅ ̸̢͓̩͇̞̭̝̰̲͇̿̓̏́̕͝N̸̯̮̟̤̱͔̲̮̗̱͍͓̈́̈̾̾͜͝  F o r  ä̴̛̠̮́͂͗́̈́̈́̅̚̕͘ ̵̢̛͍̹͚̼͚̳͋̌̀̔̊̈́̚͘̕͘̕͠͠ͅW̷̧̛̼̓̿̋̿̂̈́̌̆̉̑̀̎̚͠ ̵̭̻̮͎̲̖̥͕͉̮̑̉@̶̨̘̼̮̼͙̻̟̟̘̳̟͖͈͐́̒͗͒̃̈́̃̒̍́̕͝͝ ̸͖͔̺̫̘̥̪̐̊̓̌͝ͅḳ̵͓͈̖͇̹̯͈̲̣͈͓͒͌̇̇̅̀ ̴̨͈̞̞́̑̏͑̾̂̀͗͐̚̕͝͠͝3̶̞̥̟̝̜̯͎̗̘͋̌̽̇́͐͘ͅ ̸̢͓̩͇̞̭̝̰̲͇̿̓̏́̕͝N̸̯̮̟̤̱͔̲̮̗̱͍͓̈́̈̾̾͜͝  w h a t  ä̴̛̠̮́͂͗́̈́̈́̅̚̕͘ ̵̢̛͍̹͚̼͚̳͋̌̀̔̊̈́̚͘̕͘̕͠͠ͅW̷̧̛̼̓̿̋̿̂̈́̌̆̉̑̀̎̚͠ ̵̭̻̮͎̲̖̥͕͉̮̑̉@̶̨̘̼̮̼͙̻̟̟̘̳̟͖͈͐́̒͗͒̃̈́̃̒̍́̕͝͝ ̸͖͔̺̫̘̥̪̐̊̓̌͝ͅḳ̵͓͈̖͇̹̯͈̲̣͈͓͒͌̇̇̅̀ ̴̨͈̞̞́̑̏͑̾̂̀͗͐̚̕͝͠͝3̶̞̥̟̝̜̯͎̗̘͋̌̽̇́͐͘ͅ ̸̢͓̩͇̞̭̝̰̲͇̿̓̏́̕͝N̸̯̮̟̤̱͔̲̮̗̱͍͓̈́̈̾̾͜͝  d o ä̴̛̠̮́͂͗́̈́̈́̅̚̕͘ ̵̢̛͍̹͚̼͚̳͋̌̀̔̊̈́̚͘̕͘̕͠͠ͅW̷̧̛̼̓̿̋̿̂̈́̌̆̉̑̀̎̚͠ ̵̭̻̮͎̲̖̥͕͉̮̑̉@̶̨̘̼̮̼͙̻̟̟̘̳̟͖͈͐́̒͗͒̃̈́̃̒̍́̕͝͝ ̸͖͔̺̫̘̥̪̐̊̓̌͝ͅḳ̵͓͈̖͇̹̯͈̲̣͈͓͒͌̇̇̅̀ ̴̨͈̞̞́̑̏͑̾̂̀͗͐̚̕͝͠͝3̶̞̥̟̝̜̯͎̗̘͋̌̽̇́͐͘ͅ ̸̢͓̩͇̞̭̝̰̲͇̿̓̏́̕͝N̸̯̮̟̤̱͔̲̮̗̱͍͓̈́̈̾̾͜͝  y o u  ä̴̛̠̮́͂͗́̈́̈́̅̚̕͘ ̵̢̛͍̹͚̼͚̳͋̌̀̔̊̈́̚͘̕͘̕͠͠ͅW̷̧̛̼̓̿̋̿̂̈́̌̆̉̑̀̎̚͠ ̵̭̻̮͎̲̖̥͕͉̮̑̉@̶̨̘̼̮̼͙̻̟̟̘̳̟͖͈͐́̒͗͒̃̈́̃̒̍́̕͝͝ ̸͖͔̺̫̘̥̪̐̊̓̌͝ͅḳ̵͓͈̖͇̹̯͈̲̣͈͓͒͌̇̇̅̀ ̴̨͈̞̞́̑̏͑̾̂̀͗͐̚̕͝͠͝3̶̞̥̟̝̜̯͎̗̘͋̌̽̇́͐͘ͅ ̸̢͓̩͇̞̭̝̰̲͇̿̓̏́̕͝N̸̯̮̟̤̱͔̲̮̗̱͍͓̈́̈̾̾͜͝  f i g h t   M a r t i n   ?
A simple question. A simple answer.

“I fight for those living. The innocent.”

Sounds of laughter echo around. This voice is heard again.
Code:
You  ä̴̛̠̮́͂͗́̈́̈́̅̚̕͘ ̵̢̛͍̹͚̼͚̳͋̌̀̔̊̈́̚͘̕͘̕͠͠ͅW̷̧̛̼̓̿̋̿̂̈́̌̆̉̑̀̎̚͠ ̵̭̻̮͎̲̖̥͕͉̮̑̉@̶̨̘̼̮̼͙̻̟̟̘̳̟͖͈͐́̒͗͒̃̈́̃̒̍́̕͝͝ ̸͖͔̺̫̘̥̪̐̊̓̌͝ͅḳ̵͓͈̖͇̹̯͈̲̣͈͓͒͌̇̇̅̀ ̴̨͈̞̞́̑̏͑̾̂̀͗͐̚̕͝͠͝3̶̞̥̟̝̜̯͎̗̘͋̌̽̇́͐͘ͅ ̸̢͓̩͇̞̭̝̰̲͇̿̓̏́̕͝N̸̯̮̟̤̱͔̲̮̗̱͍͓̈́̈̾̾͜͝  lie ä̴̛̠̮́͂͗́̈́̈́̅̚̕͘ ̵̢̛͍̹͚̼͚̳͋̌̀̔̊̈́̚͘̕͘̕͠͠ͅW̷̧̛̼̓̿̋̿̂̈́̌̆̉̑̀̎̚͠ ̵̭̻̮͎̲̖̥͕͉̮̑̉@̶̨̘̼̮̼͙̻̟̟̘̳̟͖͈͐́̒͗͒̃̈́̃̒̍́̕͝͝ ̸͖͔̺̫̘̥̪̐̊̓̌͝ͅḳ̵͓͈̖͇̹̯͈̲̣͈͓͒͌̇̇̅̀ ̴̨͈̞̞́̑̏͑̾̂̀͗͐̚̕͝͠͝3̶̞̥̟̝̜̯͎̗̘͋̌̽̇́͐͘ͅ ̸̢͓̩͇̞̭̝̰̲͇̿̓̏́̕͝N̸̯̮̟̤̱͔̲̮̗̱͍͓̈́̈̾̾͜͝   . ä̴̛̠̮́͂͗́̈́̈́̅̚̕͘ ̵̢̛͍̹͚̼͚̳͋̌̀̔̊̈́̚͘̕͘̕͠͠ͅW̷̧̛̼̓̿̋̿̂̈́̌̆̉̑̀̎̚͠ ̵̭̻̮͎̲̖̥͕͉̮̑̉@̶̨̘̼̮̼͙̻̟̟̘̳̟͖͈͐́̒͗͒̃̈́̃̒̍́̕͝͝ ̸͖͔̺̫̘̥̪̐̊̓̌͝ͅḳ̵͓͈̖͇̹̯͈̲̣͈͓͒͌̇̇̅̀ ̴̨͈̞̞́̑̏͑̾̂̀͗͐̚̕͝͠͝3̶̞̥̟̝̜̯͎̗̘͋̌̽̇́͐͘ͅ ̸̢͓̩͇̞̭̝̰̲͇̿̓̏́̕͝N̸̯̮̟̤̱͔̲̮̗̱͍͓̈́̈̾̾͜͝ ¿  ä̴̛̠̮́͂͗́̈́̈́̅̚̕͘ ̵̢̛͍̹͚̼͚̳͋̌̀̔̊̈́̚͘̕͘̕͠͠ͅW̷̧̛̼̓̿̋̿̂̈́̌̆̉̑̀̎̚͠ ̵̭̻̮͎̲̖̥͕͉̮̑̉@̶̨̘̼̮̼͙̻̟̟̘̳̟͖͈͐́̒͗͒̃̈́̃̒̍́̕͝͝ ̸͖͔̺̫̘̥̪̐̊̓̌͝ͅḳ̵͓͈̖͇̹̯͈̲̣͈͓͒͌̇̇̅̀ ̴̨͈̞̞́̑̏͑̾̂̀͗͐̚̕͝͠͝3̶̞̥̟̝̜̯͎̗̘͋̌̽̇́͐͘ͅ ̸̢͓̩͇̞̭̝̰̲͇̿̓̏́̕͝N̸̯̮̟̤̱͔̲̮̗̱͍͓̈́̈̾̾͜͝  F o r  ä̴̛̠̮́͂͗́̈́̈́̅̚̕͘ ̵̢̛͍̹͚̼͚̳͋̌̀̔̊̈́̚͘̕͘̕͠͠ͅW̷̧̛̼̓̿̋̿̂̈́̌̆̉̑̀̎̚͠ ̵̭̻̮͎̲̖̥͕͉̮̑̉@̶̨̘̼̮̼͙̻̟̟̘̳̟͖͈͐́̒͗͒̃̈́̃̒̍́̕͝͝ ̸͖͔̺̫̘̥̪̐̊̓̌͝ͅḳ̵͓͈̖͇̹̯͈̲̣͈͓͒͌̇̇̅̀ ̴̨͈̞̞́̑̏͑̾̂̀͗͐̚̕͝͠͝3̶̞̥̟̝̜̯͎̗̘͋̌̽̇́͐͘ͅ ̸̢͓̩͇̞̭̝̰̲͇̿̓̏́̕͝N̸̯̮̟̤̱͔̲̮̗̱͍͓̈́̈̾̾͜͝  w h a t  ä̴̛̠̮́͂͗́̈́̈́̅̚̕͘ ̵̢̛͍̹͚̼͚̳͋̌̀̔̊̈́̚͘̕͘̕͠͠ͅW̷̧̛̼̓̿̋̿̂̈́̌̆̉̑̀̎̚͠ ̵̭̻̮͎̲̖̥͕͉̮̑̉@̶̨̘̼̮̼͙̻̟̟̘̳̟͖͈͐́̒͗͒̃̈́̃̒̍́̕͝͝ ̸͖͔̺̫̘̥̪̐̊̓̌͝ͅḳ̵͓͈̖͇̹̯͈̲̣͈͓͒͌̇̇̅̀ ̴̨͈̞̞́̑̏͑̾̂̀͗͐̚̕͝͠͝3̶̞̥̟̝̜̯͎̗̘͋̌̽̇́͐͘ͅ ̸̢͓̩͇̞̭̝̰̲͇̿̓̏́̕͝N̸̯̮̟̤̱͔̲̮̗̱͍͓̈́̈̾̾͜͝  d o ä̴̛̠̮́͂͗́̈́̈́̅̚̕͘ ̵̢̛͍̹͚̼͚̳͋̌̀̔̊̈́̚͘̕͘̕͠͠ͅW̷̧̛̼̓̿̋̿̂̈́̌̆̉̑̀̎̚͠ ̵̭̻̮͎̲̖̥͕͉̮̑̉@̶̨̘̼̮̼͙̻̟̟̘̳̟͖͈͐́̒͗͒̃̈́̃̒̍́̕͝͝ ̸͖͔̺̫̘̥̪̐̊̓̌͝ͅḳ̵͓͈̖͇̹̯͈̲̣͈͓͒͌̇̇̅̀ ̴̨͈̞̞́̑̏͑̾̂̀͗͐̚̕͝͠͝3̶̞̥̟̝̜̯͎̗̘͋̌̽̇́͐͘ͅ ̸̢͓̩͇̞̭̝̰̲͇̿̓̏́̕͝N̸̯̮̟̤̱͔̲̮̗̱͍͓̈́̈̾̾͜͝  y o u  ä̴̛̠̮́͂͗́̈́̈́̅̚̕͘ ̵̢̛͍̹͚̼͚̳͋̌̀̔̊̈́̚͘̕͘̕͠͠ͅW̷̧̛̼̓̿̋̿̂̈́̌̆̉̑̀̎̚͠ ̵̭̻̮͎̲̖̥͕͉̮̑̉@̶̨̘̼̮̼͙̻̟̟̘̳̟͖͈͐́̒͗͒̃̈́̃̒̍́̕͝͝ ̸͖͔̺̫̘̥̪̐̊̓̌͝ͅḳ̵͓͈̖͇̹̯͈̲̣͈͓͒͌̇̇̅̀ ̴̨͈̞̞́̑̏͑̾̂̀͗͐̚̕͝͠͝3̶̞̥̟̝̜̯͎̗̘͋̌̽̇́͐͘ͅ ̸̢͓̩͇̞̭̝̰̲͇̿̓̏́̕͝N̸̯̮̟̤̱͔̲̮̗̱͍͓̈́̈̾̾͜͝  f i g h t   M a r t i n   ?
Martin looks around. He is both trapped within the barrier erected by the man, as well as in another… Place...? This place is white. And yet something feels odd. As if it’s a glitch.
Code:
ä̴̛̠̮́͂͗́̈́̈́̅̚̕͘ ̵̢̛͍̹͚̼͚̳͋̌̀̔̊̈́̚͘̕͘̕͠͠ͅW̷̧̛̼̓̿̋̿̂̈́̌̆̉̑̀̎̚͠ ̵̭̻̮͎̲̖̥͕͉̮̑̉@̶̨̘̼̮̼͙̻̟̟̘̳̟͖͈͐́̒͗͒̃̈́̃̒̍́̕͝͝ ̸͖͔̺̫̘̥̪̐̊̓̌͝ͅḳ̵͓͈̖͇̹̯͈̲̣͈͓͒͌̇̇̅̀ ̴̨͈̞̞́̑̏͑̾̂̀͗͐̚̕͝͠͝3̶̞̥̟̝̜̯͎̗̘͋̌̽̇́͐͘ͅ ̸̢͓̩͇̞̭̝̰̲͇̿̓̏́̕͝N̸̯̮̟̤̱͔̲̮̗̱͍͓̈́̈̾̾͜͝
His eyes look around more. He can see the world moving in a very slow pace. As if time stands still - or simply moves so slow that feels like that. It is many times faster than Martin’s fastest achieved speed. He is unsure what this is. Why the world is like this. He simply knows that a question has been asked and the end of the world’s concert is at it’s prelude.
Code:
ä̴̛̠̮́͂͗́̈́̈́̅̚̕͘ ̵̢̛͍̹͚̼͚̳͋̌̀̔̊̈́̚͘̕͘̕͠͠ͅW̷̧̛̼̓̿̋̿̂̈́̌̆̉̑̀̎̚͠ ̵̭̻̮͎̲̖̥͕͉̮̑̉@̶̨̘̼̮̼͙̻̟̟̘̳̟͖͈͐́̒͗͒̃̈́̃̒̍́̕͝͝ ̸͖͔̺̫̘̥̪̐̊̓̌͝ͅḳ̵͓͈̖͇̹̯͈̲̣͈͓͒͌̇̇̅̀ ̴̨͈̞̞́̑̏͑̾̂̀͗͐̚̕͝͠͝3̶̞̥̟̝̜̯͎̗̘͋̌̽̇́͐͘ͅ ̸̢͓̩͇̞̭̝̰̲͇̿̓̏́̕͝N̸̯̮̟̤̱͔̲̮̗̱͍͓̈́̈̾̾͜͝
He thinks. He can hear the voice repeating. He… He doesn’t know what it means. What it says. He thinks back on the question he was asked. Maybe that is a clue, he thinks. His focus is beyond immense. He thinks.
Code:
ä̴̛̠̮́͂͗́̈́̈́̅̚̕͘ ̵̢̛͍̹͚̼͚̳͋̌̀̔̊̈́̚͘̕͘̕͠͠ͅW̷̧̛̼̓̿̋̿̂̈́̌̆̉̑̀̎̚͠ ̵̭̻̮͎̲̖̥͕͉̮̑̉@̶̨̘̼̮̼͙̻̟̟̘̳̟͖͈͐́̒͗͒̃̈́̃̒̍́̕͝͝ ̸͖͔̺̫̘̥̪̐̊̓̌͝ͅḳ̵͓͈̖͇̹̯͈̲̣͈͓͒͌̇̇̅̀ ̴̨͈̞̞́̑̏͑̾̂̀͗͐̚̕͝͠͝3̶̞̥̟̝̜̯͎̗̘͋̌̽̇́͐͘ͅ ̸̢͓̩͇̞̭̝̰̲͇̿̓̏́̕͝N̸̯̮̟̤̱͔̲̮̗̱͍͓̈́̈̾̾͜͝
For what do you fight Martin
I fight to save innocents
Liar
Martin’s eyes shake. He remembers. He was but a young child back then. His father, he; he asked this question.

“For what do you fight Martin?”

Martin smiled at his father.

“I fight to protect ma an’ pa from the nightmares! I fight to make you smile!”

Martin’s voice is heard. It’s his voice as a kid. He nods. Yes, I was correct - are the thoughts of present Martin. And yet…

“Liar.”

Past Martin’s voice is heard. Present Martin stares at his past. He looks at himself of the past. Yes. He did want to fight for the innocent. He did. That was not a lie. But… People change, don’t they?

“When did money become your

Code:
G̵̨̋̃̍̎͘ ̸̧̡̮̝̰̖̻̼̬̫̮̰̠̞̱̓̔́̎̈́̅͛̿̆O̸̞̟͖̙̜̝̪͑́̀͒͛̄̓̎͛̓̽͘͜͝ ̵̧̦̬̲̩̖̫̘̭̬̉̏͊̎̄͑̓͗͗Ḑ̵̢͚̪̞͈̙̤̀̍̔͒̚͜͝͝ͅ
?”
Martin nods. True. When was it…?
Memories pass, some fast, some slow.
Code:
A ̵̢̛͍̹͚̼͚̳͋̌̀̔̊̈́̚͘̕͘̕͠͠ͅW̷̧̛̼̓̿̋̿̂̈́̌̆̉̑̀̎̚͠ ̵̭̻̮͎̲̖̥͕͉̮̑̉@̶̨̘̼̮̼͙̻̟̟̘̳̟͖͈͐́̒͗͒̃̈́̃̒̍́̕͝͝ ̸͖͔̺̫̘̥̪̐̊̓̌͝ͅḳ̵͓͈̖͇̹̯͈̲̣͈͓͒͌̇̇̅̀ ̴̨͈̞̞́̑̏͑̾̂̀͗͐̚̕͝͠͝3̶̞̥̟̝̜̯͎̗̘͋̌̽̇́͐͘ͅ ̸̢͓̩͇̞̭̝̰̲͇̿̓̏́̕͝N̸̯̮̟̤̱͔̲̮̗̱͍͓̈́̈̾̾͜͝
He nods. He knows.

“I… I fight for money.”

His voice is broken now. Is it because of future Martin watching the present, or is it because present Martin understands that he truly was a liar?

“I fight for money. I forgot my promise. My oath.”

Code:
A W ̵̭̻̮͎̲̖̥͕͉̮̑̉@̶̨̘̼̮̼͙̻̟̟̘̳̟͖͈͐́̒͗͒̃̈́̃̒̍́̕͝͝ ̸͖͔̺̫̘̥̪̐̊̓̌͝ͅḳ̵͓͈̖͇̹̯͈̲̣͈͓͒͌̇̇̅̀ ̴̨͈̞̞́̑̏͑̾̂̀͗͐̚̕͝͠͝3̶̞̥̟̝̜̯͎̗̘͋̌̽̇́͐͘ͅ ̸̢͓̩͇̞̭̝̰̲͇̿̓̏́̕͝N̸̯̮̟̤̱͔̲̮̗̱͍͓̈́̈̾̾͜͝

“Father… I am-”

Sorry. Past Martin’s voice is heard. His father pats him on the head. He holds his hand. The both of them walk through a burning house. No, wait. Why is burning now? It’s not the day of their death yet!
Code:
Why is the house burning?!
GORE WARNING! Skip until the next notification.
Present Martin is holding the hand of his father. They walk through the rumble, their target a spot Martin knows of. It’s the place he was placed at in order to - hopefully - survive. He did survive, but his parents not.

“There’s my little angel.”

Tears now fall down. Martin’s eyes are seeing water. Is it the tears he feels, or is it the bloody liquid that is rushing to his position? He doesn’t know. No. No. He is unsure. Or even better, doesn’t care anymore.

“Mom… I… I am home.”

His feelings make his heart pulsate. He can sense his heart beating fast. Strong. His senses - pain, happiness, wondering, longing - are striking at his heart leaving behind deep wounds. Wounds that can be healed, but it will take time. Martin watches, watches as how this carcass of burnt flesh with his mother’s voice walks around and prepares the charred table, letting onto it dishes and then placing atop the burnt dishes waffles. Or at least they would have been waffles. Ashes. Martin’s dish is filled with ashes. His mother’s voice is heard once more.

“I missed you my angel.”

She pauses. She breathes in, as the air passes through the charred lungs leaving behind an otherworldly and awful sound. Martin feels his body tense up.
Code:
”Why did you leave me at this grave? Why did you leave me at this grave? Why did you leave me at this grave? Why did you leave me at this grave? Why did you leave me at this grave? Why did you lea-
Martin knows what she means. Her voice repeating. His heart aching for her. When his house burnt down, his mother was trapped inside it. At least a part of her. The monster - an entity those Reapers hunt down, an entity Martin too has hunted - took the rest of her. It is now that Martin realizes that his mother’s carcass is partially there. As if she is a puppet held by strings, her lower half and around a quarter of her torso is missing and yet she still stands. From the charred remains her organs and blood slowly fall to the ground. Martin feels the insides of his stomach about to come out. His eyes focus on her. His lips part and his voice - broken - responds,
END OF GORE! Continue reading as usual.

“I am sorry mom! I am sorry mom! I am sorry for leaving you in here, alone! I am sorry! I am so-”

Past Martin’s voice echoes. His eyes open, as they closed all the while he spoke. He can see now that the house is not burning. He looks around frantically. He tries to find his mother’s remains, but nothing is there. He runs around the house, looking for his parents. His heart is pounding. His feelings are on an overdrive and his senses are spread everywhere trying to find anyone. Anything.
Code:
A W A K ̴̨͈̞̞́̑̏͑̾̂̀͗͐̚̕͝͠͝3̶̞̥̟̝̜̯͎̗̘͋̌̽̇́͐͘ͅ ̸̢͓̩͇̞̭̝̰̲͇̿̓̏́̕͝N̸̯̮̟̤̱͔̲̮̗̱͍͓̈́̈̾̾͜͝
It responds to Martin’s calls. Martin rushes towards it[/color]. Martin holds it in his hands as it responds.
Code:
Awaken
.
.
.
Martin’s eyes focus once more within the confines of this protective prison. His eyes move about, his heart still shaking from what occurred. He can feel it in his own being that what transpired was something true. And not something of his fantasy. Somehow… Nevermind. Martin’s eyes focus to the bloody wave rushing at their position.
He stares and feels his hearts... Wait… Hearts? Martin quickly looks to his heart. He presses his hand on the left side of his torso and it’s there. And yet...

‘What is… This…?’

He moves his right hand forth. From a metallic item he holds, he can sense a pulsating force. It’s Orbis, the ancestral ring. It is pulsating - weakly. It feels… Awake.
Martin knows that what he feels is not true. It is a sensation he gets, as if something has changed. He can feel the connection he has with his ring to become different. Stronger? Weaker? Weirder? There is a certain sense of peculiarity within the connection he has with this ring. As if something has woken up. As if the slumber the ring was deeply engrossed within has stopped. And Martin - with his right hand forth - speaks.

“Vos qui recensetur. Ego te rogamus. Ostende mihi viam.”

Martin’s voice is heard. A language unknown to those listening is heard. It’s not Japanese, nor English. It’s a language that has long since died off from this world. Latin. Martin originates from Italy - even as he is a half of Japanese and Italian origins. His father’s side were proud and taught their children a language that was dead. This was done as a show of respect towards those of the past. It is this respect towards the past that Martin now held this ring within his hand. No. He wore this ring upon his finger. And now. Now it was awake.
.
.
.
Martin looks around. He hears the sound of the television. He stands up and walks to turn it off, only to pause for a moment. On the furthest side of the desk is his ring. Orbis is there. It remains at this spot. And yet Martin can still sense this heartbeat. This foreign and yet known heartbeat. He makes a step towards the ring. He stops. He remembers when the phone call happened. He remembered that sensation from his arm. He… He wasn’t wearing the ring. And yet… He could activate the power. It was weaker. Weaker than when he wore the ring. But he did activate it. He shuddered. His eyes were so focused upon the ring that he missed the chair he was about to sit on and fell to the floor. He stood there. His eyes now were looking at the ceiling. He felt a painful sensation from both his right hand and the back of his head. His right had been mangled by his collision with Chain Top. His head had hit the chair and blood now gushed out. Thankfully it was not a major issue. The amount that was coming out was miniscule.
Martin’s eyes kept looking at the opal ceiling. The sound of the television kept up, as the day became night and then day once more. A day had finally passed.
.
.
.

“Vos qui recensetur. Ego te rogamus. Ostende mihi viam.”

Martin’s voice was heard. He could feel his own energy surge forth. It gushed strongly. As if it wanted to mirror the wave of blood, it gushed forth. Heck, it maybe even trying to overcome this wave. His energy surged and a pillar of energy once more appeared. Unlike before though, this pillar was two times bigger. Did his energy grow? No. It’s very simple. The dams withholding his energy had been awoken. And so did Orbis.
Martin formed a ring of wind energy in front of him. This ring was similar to the one he had called before. Actually, it was the same. In regards to effects. What was different though, was how this ring felt stronger. Was stronger. A sense of dread could fill someone if they focused their senses upon this ring. At the same time, as the barrier was disappearing - a result from how the presence of the Reapers has finally disappeared, leaving Martin to fend off this wave - Martin passed through the ring. Around his body a film appeared. Wait. Two films did. One moved towards one side, while the other moved to the exact opposite. Martin was puzzled about this, but he was unable to do anything else. He knew he had to leave. He had to abandon his beliefs. Again. When he had found them. He had to abandon his beliefs. And so, Martin flew. His speed was far faster than before, which was a good thing. But… Not today. Today would be a day of tragedy.
He flew up high, but not before he rushed away from the wave grabbing as many people as he could. Alas, three children were all he could hold. Three children whose mothers shouted that their children were kidnapped. Whose mothers and fathers walked within the streets of Naruki as the wave came forth and simply feasted upon this buffet of people.
Martin held the children tightly. His eyes were watching the world bellow him. He heard the shouts of pain. Their anguish he felt. He cursed himself. He held the children as he saw how this river drowned everything. How it feasted on living and dead alike. Martin bit his lips, as blood came out. His heart ached. His oul screamed at him to rush down, to save everyone. And yet his mind told him no. His mind told him that if he did go down there he would die. His mind also told him that he had saved three children. He agreed. He knew he was wrong. But he agreed.
.
.
.
Martin finally stood from the floor. He stood in front of the desk. His eyes were looking at the ring, as his left hand moved away from the ring. It now held his handgun.
Martin-s-choice.png

Martin gulped. He held his gun right beside the sphenoid bone. His finger was on the trigger. He pushed it.
Martin had two choices in his life at this moment. To commit to fully push the trigger. Or to let go.
If Martin did push the trigger, he would become a soul. Maybe in the future he would become a Reaper - a Shinigami. Maybe he would become strong enough to win against whatever fucker committed this tragedy. Maybe Martin would become so strong that the world would finally be just.
Maybe.
Alas, a maybe is not good for Martin.
He let the trigger as he let his handgun down. His eyes now looked out of the window, watching the rising sun. He momentarily looked at the ring and smiled, as he took it in his hands and placed it on his right hand’s fingers.
And then, he looked at the rising sun once more. His hopes were rising. Three children had been saved. A number miniscule in regards to the number of the dead. But only if seen as numbers.
Martin smiled, as he turned around and walked towards the door. His handgun now rested within the holster surrounding his torso. He would throw it away in the future. His decision had been taken. He would travel the world. Not as an assassin. No. He would travel, learn more about the ring and his power. He would study as much as he could and learn what it means to become an entity that can fight off against that wave and manage to save people.
He
Would
Survive
And so, Martin bid farewell to this room. His steps echoed. And would echo until he returned. His memories and choices all leading to this moment. And so...
Martin passed the door.
Towards the future.
Code:
Moving from
Martin’s room
To
World
 
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