Post by Zeich Yajuu on Feb 17, 2016 16:43:29 GMT -5
Jin's gambit would seem to work; even as he sacrificed his clone to the cold air in order to use Hitze's flames to their fullest, the ice began to slowly melt away, the wall between him and Jikashi starting to disappear. Eventually the tunneling allowed his comrade to break his own way through to the surface, emerging from beneath the frozen lake before the icy water could do enough damage to Ritter to prevent him from functioning. There were other problems, though; Jikashi's body was still as vulnerable to the cold as the clone's had been only a moment before, and though his soul existed within Ritter right now, his physical form still suffered the chills and pain that came with being in such a harsh, frozen environment. He would have to hurry, or find another way to protect his physical form from the harsh elements.
Worse yet, there was another looming threat. Whatever guardian stood watch over the Ring of Ice had caught wind of an escaping prisoner, and a dark shadow loomed over Jikashi briefly. Yet looking up, all he'd see was a wall of darkening clouds pulling into view, a fresh layer of snow starting to fall. But that snow picked up more and more by the second, developing into a storm, and then a blizzard, as though to freeze Jikashi and Ritter in place. Suddenly the threat of environment was that much more desperate! But even if they did hurry, that shadow would remain fresh on Jikashi's mind; it had taken on the form of some giant avian flying overhead. And with the cloud cover and the blizzard, it was possible that whatever threatened them was hiding just out of sight.
Back in the Ring of Fire, the actual Jin would discover one problem to his tactic, brilliant though it was, when he did a scan of the area to detect heat signatures that were slowly growing. Worse, it was one he should have realized upon understanding the nature of the Rings and their torment; many of the effects were more devastating to the mental state than the physical, and over time it victims succumbed to the constant torture that their mind continued to feed them. But their bodies didn't necessarily suffer in the ways that they thought; sure, many of them probably suffered some form of physical torment, enough to kill the average person, but this was Hell; death was an escape, a freedom from eternal punishment. No, all of those here in Hell were still very much alive, at least in body, and as Jin scanned the area, he'd discover that there were hundreds within just one hundred meters of him, buried beneath the sand or sinking into the dunes around him. All of them were active, living bodies, with heat constantly transferring into them. Suddenly the hunt for Otto would be that much harder; unless Jin had a way to specifically pick out his companion from the mass of tortured souls, then the other Bount would be joining their ranks soon enough.
Hope that had risen only a moment before began to flicker out like a dying candle; Jin was the hope of the Bount, taking on their burdens and giving himself the highest expectations in their care and safety, yet he could not find his friend in this sea of burning bodies. Worse yet, it had been his responsibility to keep an eye on his allies, and he had failed Otto, not noticing his crazed state and his attack on Alexander. Maybe it was his fault for simply teaming up with such a ruthless Shinigami, who had been more than happy to simply destroy the Doll, knowing what effect it had on a Bount. Regardless of why or how, this fault now lay on Jin, and it was his turn to suffer a torment not limited to the Rings of Hell; the torment of failure, a torment brought on by one's self.
“Oh my, what have we here?” Jin would suddenly hear a voice speaking out, and a woman would simply seem to materialize from the dunes. It wasn't just the sand that formed her, but the shimmer of the heat in the air, the flickering flames that rose up from the sand occasionally. Seeming to be a living being of flame, the woman appeared to be in her early thirties at oldest. Long hair that flowed down her back seemed to be made of liquid fire, reds and oranges and golds all intertwining like molten metal. Eyes of the brightest blue like a cool flame met Jin's, and the woman's bronzed face curled into the lightest of smiles, as if she was pleasantly surprised with what she saw. “A living man... that's two within the last half hour, how nice. I was surprised when one dropped into my Ring all by himself, but now two? You wouldn't happen to be intruders, now would you?” Her tone wasn't accusatory or angry; rather, she seemed almost intrigued and curious.
“You know, you possess a fiery soul like any I've ever seen...” The woman seemed even more interested as she studied Jin, her eyes scanning him, seeing something he could not. “Passionate, beautiful like a roaring flame... I could just take it for myself.” With that, the woman would simply thrust her hand into Jin's chest, though there was no physical impact. There was, however, a very profound sense of strangeness and something wrong as she did so, however, and Hitze's presence would sputter briefly but not quite go out. Fortunately, she removed her hand as quickly as she had placed it within him. “Ah, but I can't do that. Lord Lucifer would be very mad if I were to make him look bad by taking a soul from the Spirit King's cycle that does not belong here... yet.”
That smile did not leave her lips, however, and it seemed she was planning something. “I will make you a deal, my passionate flame. You're looking for that other living man, yes? The one who's wasting away in the flames? Well, I will be happy to return him to you, in exchange for a favor. All you have to do is sign a contract stating that you will yield your soul to the Ring of Fire the moment that you lose your life, regardless of your next step in the cycle of souls, and I will not only restore your friend to you, but treat him so that he will show no effects of his time in my Ring. My terms are fairly generous, are they not?” She'd hold out her hand; it seemed that their contract would be handled by something as simple as shaking on it in agreement.
Alexander's tactic, while unorthodox, was enough to get him through the door. The trick had not necessarily been in creating multiple reflections, but acknowledgment of his reflection in the first place. The walls, the doors, all of it was reflective, and each would show an Alexander trying to open the door. Once he acknowledged them, acknowledged that he stood in his own company, the door would simply pull open with little effort. Once more, a square of light would glow before him, becoming blindingly bright, yet the man proceeded through the door, knowing triumph over this mental challenge even as he made his way to the next Ring of Hell, ready to face its next challenge.
But what did he come to next? Where the last Ring had been a world of white, this was a Ring of ebony black. It wasn't dark, but rather the floor was a deep, polished black, like looking into a thousand dark gems. In fact, that was all there was; the floor extended indefinitely in all directions, and above him there was nothing but black, empty skies. There was no sun or moon, yet some semblance of light filled the area, serving to reveal to Alexander that there was simply nothing around him. This Ring was just an empty, expansive space that stretched to eternity in all directions. Which Ring was this? What purpose did it serve, given that there were no other suffering souls visible in this expansive world?
“So, you've finally come... Shinigami...” Whispering words, too faint to truly make out, seemed to echo through the empty space like a breath of wind briefly fluttering through. “Are you here to stop me? To stop my Eternity?” The words were louder now, flowing around Alexander from all directions. Now he could make them out more clearly, as if someone was speaking into his ear lightly. “It's a foolish endeavor, you know. You cannot stop me, just as you cannot stop Discord. You cannot stop the world from becoming one with Hell, all of its souls taken and given to darkness. Even if you halt this process now, it is inevitable. It is the ultimate fate of all souls, after all...”
Suddenly, the voice seemed to gather in one place, directly in front of Alexander, and the man would be able to make out a black, cloaked figure, his face hidden by the hood of his voluminous robe. In fact, there were no distinct features that Alexander would be able to make out, looking at the man, except that he was vaguely human-shaped, if the robes were any indication. The man would simply stand there, making no gesture of aggression. Instead, he would speak again, addressing Alexander once more. “I am Eternity. The Ring, the Guardian, and the Essence of Eternity, all in one. As with all the Rings, all of the Guardians, I am a force of nature. But as Eternity, I am a step above all the rest, a force of infinite potential without end. Do you really think that you can destroy me, Shinigami, and attempt to defeat Discord?”
“Not that simple, Jensen.” Red said, even as the assassin suggested that they retreat and attempt to find Discord's sources of rebirth. The man was still nonchalant, and he sat on the stair behind him despite his strange, slanted angle as opposed to Zack's own, reaching into a coat pocket and pulling out a cigarette. Sticking it in his mouth as he fished around for a lighter, the former demon of Hell continued his response. “Remember what I said? This isn't a Ring. This isn't following Hell's rules, but Discord's for the most part. Pandemonium is a place of absolute chaos without definition or restriction. There are no Gates to the rest of Hell or even to the World of the Living from here, not unless Discord or Lucifer wills them to be. I can assure you that Discord will not let us walk out of here so easily, and my patron won't step in unless Discord has been dealt with. We're on our own, here. Endgame.”
Finally finding the lighter he was looking for, Red lit his cigarette and took a long draw from it, releasing a slow stream of smoke from his mouth. “As I said, Jensen, two choices; we can either sit here and plan, knowing that Discord can probably counteract anything we think up, or we can go there and fight him head-on, keep him busy and hope we can stall things out for the others.” The man looked up—down, at an angle? These strange orientations made it hard to tell at this point—at Zack, his expression unreadable; it wasn't the same, cocky look that he normally had, but something a tad more resigned. They truly were in endgame at this point, and if they didn't act, the endgame would end in game over, for them and the world.
“Personally, I'm gonna enjoy this last smoke, probably the only one I'll get in my reclaimed life, and then go in there to kick some ass. I'll probably die, be re-sentenced to some horrible torment in one of the worse Rings of Hell, and then after a couple hundred years maybe crawl my way out for a few days again.” Another deep draw left half of the cigarette burned to ash. “But at least I'm goin' out on my own terms. That's been my goal this whole time, you know? To do things for myself. It's what Discord offered for me to work for him; to do my own thing, to accomplish our goals in my own way. To live on my terms, and not on Hell's. But let me tell you, trading one master for another rarely changes things in the end.”
Red stood, throwing his cigarette butt to the floor, and stomping on it, grinding it into the ground to put it out. “You're a loner, Zack. I get that. But we've really got no other choice in this matter but to trust the others to weaken Discord. All we can do is kill him again and again, stopping each new form until he doesn't get back up, or we die, whichever happens first. So we're going to have to rely on the others here, and hope they make it through. Tough odds, huh? And I'm not much of a gambling man, either.” Sticking his hands into his pockets, Red started down a flight of stairs, ones that slanted his angle yet again, leading to another slant, and finally to one that brought him level with Zack, leaving the assassin to continue to stare at his own face in front of him. “So, what do you say... shall we?”
Worse yet, there was another looming threat. Whatever guardian stood watch over the Ring of Ice had caught wind of an escaping prisoner, and a dark shadow loomed over Jikashi briefly. Yet looking up, all he'd see was a wall of darkening clouds pulling into view, a fresh layer of snow starting to fall. But that snow picked up more and more by the second, developing into a storm, and then a blizzard, as though to freeze Jikashi and Ritter in place. Suddenly the threat of environment was that much more desperate! But even if they did hurry, that shadow would remain fresh on Jikashi's mind; it had taken on the form of some giant avian flying overhead. And with the cloud cover and the blizzard, it was possible that whatever threatened them was hiding just out of sight.
Back in the Ring of Fire, the actual Jin would discover one problem to his tactic, brilliant though it was, when he did a scan of the area to detect heat signatures that were slowly growing. Worse, it was one he should have realized upon understanding the nature of the Rings and their torment; many of the effects were more devastating to the mental state than the physical, and over time it victims succumbed to the constant torture that their mind continued to feed them. But their bodies didn't necessarily suffer in the ways that they thought; sure, many of them probably suffered some form of physical torment, enough to kill the average person, but this was Hell; death was an escape, a freedom from eternal punishment. No, all of those here in Hell were still very much alive, at least in body, and as Jin scanned the area, he'd discover that there were hundreds within just one hundred meters of him, buried beneath the sand or sinking into the dunes around him. All of them were active, living bodies, with heat constantly transferring into them. Suddenly the hunt for Otto would be that much harder; unless Jin had a way to specifically pick out his companion from the mass of tortured souls, then the other Bount would be joining their ranks soon enough.
Hope that had risen only a moment before began to flicker out like a dying candle; Jin was the hope of the Bount, taking on their burdens and giving himself the highest expectations in their care and safety, yet he could not find his friend in this sea of burning bodies. Worse yet, it had been his responsibility to keep an eye on his allies, and he had failed Otto, not noticing his crazed state and his attack on Alexander. Maybe it was his fault for simply teaming up with such a ruthless Shinigami, who had been more than happy to simply destroy the Doll, knowing what effect it had on a Bount. Regardless of why or how, this fault now lay on Jin, and it was his turn to suffer a torment not limited to the Rings of Hell; the torment of failure, a torment brought on by one's self.
“Oh my, what have we here?” Jin would suddenly hear a voice speaking out, and a woman would simply seem to materialize from the dunes. It wasn't just the sand that formed her, but the shimmer of the heat in the air, the flickering flames that rose up from the sand occasionally. Seeming to be a living being of flame, the woman appeared to be in her early thirties at oldest. Long hair that flowed down her back seemed to be made of liquid fire, reds and oranges and golds all intertwining like molten metal. Eyes of the brightest blue like a cool flame met Jin's, and the woman's bronzed face curled into the lightest of smiles, as if she was pleasantly surprised with what she saw. “A living man... that's two within the last half hour, how nice. I was surprised when one dropped into my Ring all by himself, but now two? You wouldn't happen to be intruders, now would you?” Her tone wasn't accusatory or angry; rather, she seemed almost intrigued and curious.
“You know, you possess a fiery soul like any I've ever seen...” The woman seemed even more interested as she studied Jin, her eyes scanning him, seeing something he could not. “Passionate, beautiful like a roaring flame... I could just take it for myself.” With that, the woman would simply thrust her hand into Jin's chest, though there was no physical impact. There was, however, a very profound sense of strangeness and something wrong as she did so, however, and Hitze's presence would sputter briefly but not quite go out. Fortunately, she removed her hand as quickly as she had placed it within him. “Ah, but I can't do that. Lord Lucifer would be very mad if I were to make him look bad by taking a soul from the Spirit King's cycle that does not belong here... yet.”
That smile did not leave her lips, however, and it seemed she was planning something. “I will make you a deal, my passionate flame. You're looking for that other living man, yes? The one who's wasting away in the flames? Well, I will be happy to return him to you, in exchange for a favor. All you have to do is sign a contract stating that you will yield your soul to the Ring of Fire the moment that you lose your life, regardless of your next step in the cycle of souls, and I will not only restore your friend to you, but treat him so that he will show no effects of his time in my Ring. My terms are fairly generous, are they not?” She'd hold out her hand; it seemed that their contract would be handled by something as simple as shaking on it in agreement.
Alexander's tactic, while unorthodox, was enough to get him through the door. The trick had not necessarily been in creating multiple reflections, but acknowledgment of his reflection in the first place. The walls, the doors, all of it was reflective, and each would show an Alexander trying to open the door. Once he acknowledged them, acknowledged that he stood in his own company, the door would simply pull open with little effort. Once more, a square of light would glow before him, becoming blindingly bright, yet the man proceeded through the door, knowing triumph over this mental challenge even as he made his way to the next Ring of Hell, ready to face its next challenge.
But what did he come to next? Where the last Ring had been a world of white, this was a Ring of ebony black. It wasn't dark, but rather the floor was a deep, polished black, like looking into a thousand dark gems. In fact, that was all there was; the floor extended indefinitely in all directions, and above him there was nothing but black, empty skies. There was no sun or moon, yet some semblance of light filled the area, serving to reveal to Alexander that there was simply nothing around him. This Ring was just an empty, expansive space that stretched to eternity in all directions. Which Ring was this? What purpose did it serve, given that there were no other suffering souls visible in this expansive world?
“So, you've finally come... Shinigami...” Whispering words, too faint to truly make out, seemed to echo through the empty space like a breath of wind briefly fluttering through. “Are you here to stop me? To stop my Eternity?” The words were louder now, flowing around Alexander from all directions. Now he could make them out more clearly, as if someone was speaking into his ear lightly. “It's a foolish endeavor, you know. You cannot stop me, just as you cannot stop Discord. You cannot stop the world from becoming one with Hell, all of its souls taken and given to darkness. Even if you halt this process now, it is inevitable. It is the ultimate fate of all souls, after all...”
Suddenly, the voice seemed to gather in one place, directly in front of Alexander, and the man would be able to make out a black, cloaked figure, his face hidden by the hood of his voluminous robe. In fact, there were no distinct features that Alexander would be able to make out, looking at the man, except that he was vaguely human-shaped, if the robes were any indication. The man would simply stand there, making no gesture of aggression. Instead, he would speak again, addressing Alexander once more. “I am Eternity. The Ring, the Guardian, and the Essence of Eternity, all in one. As with all the Rings, all of the Guardians, I am a force of nature. But as Eternity, I am a step above all the rest, a force of infinite potential without end. Do you really think that you can destroy me, Shinigami, and attempt to defeat Discord?”
“Not that simple, Jensen.” Red said, even as the assassin suggested that they retreat and attempt to find Discord's sources of rebirth. The man was still nonchalant, and he sat on the stair behind him despite his strange, slanted angle as opposed to Zack's own, reaching into a coat pocket and pulling out a cigarette. Sticking it in his mouth as he fished around for a lighter, the former demon of Hell continued his response. “Remember what I said? This isn't a Ring. This isn't following Hell's rules, but Discord's for the most part. Pandemonium is a place of absolute chaos without definition or restriction. There are no Gates to the rest of Hell or even to the World of the Living from here, not unless Discord or Lucifer wills them to be. I can assure you that Discord will not let us walk out of here so easily, and my patron won't step in unless Discord has been dealt with. We're on our own, here. Endgame.”
Finally finding the lighter he was looking for, Red lit his cigarette and took a long draw from it, releasing a slow stream of smoke from his mouth. “As I said, Jensen, two choices; we can either sit here and plan, knowing that Discord can probably counteract anything we think up, or we can go there and fight him head-on, keep him busy and hope we can stall things out for the others.” The man looked up—down, at an angle? These strange orientations made it hard to tell at this point—at Zack, his expression unreadable; it wasn't the same, cocky look that he normally had, but something a tad more resigned. They truly were in endgame at this point, and if they didn't act, the endgame would end in game over, for them and the world.
“Personally, I'm gonna enjoy this last smoke, probably the only one I'll get in my reclaimed life, and then go in there to kick some ass. I'll probably die, be re-sentenced to some horrible torment in one of the worse Rings of Hell, and then after a couple hundred years maybe crawl my way out for a few days again.” Another deep draw left half of the cigarette burned to ash. “But at least I'm goin' out on my own terms. That's been my goal this whole time, you know? To do things for myself. It's what Discord offered for me to work for him; to do my own thing, to accomplish our goals in my own way. To live on my terms, and not on Hell's. But let me tell you, trading one master for another rarely changes things in the end.”
Red stood, throwing his cigarette butt to the floor, and stomping on it, grinding it into the ground to put it out. “You're a loner, Zack. I get that. But we've really got no other choice in this matter but to trust the others to weaken Discord. All we can do is kill him again and again, stopping each new form until he doesn't get back up, or we die, whichever happens first. So we're going to have to rely on the others here, and hope they make it through. Tough odds, huh? And I'm not much of a gambling man, either.” Sticking his hands into his pockets, Red started down a flight of stairs, ones that slanted his angle yet again, leading to another slant, and finally to one that brought him level with Zack, leaving the assassin to continue to stare at his own face in front of him. “So, what do you say... shall we?”