Scene #9114: Sun and Moon: Smile

Owner	Pose
Angela	I'm not being soft, or self-sacrificing, Angela. If I were set back to the way I once was, I'd kill you if that's what it took to be born. There isn't much time now. The Agents are doing their best to get everyone up on their feet but Angela abused the T2 Protocol to allow her to absorb the remainder of The Light more effectively. She did not have the heart to fight as brutally as Petra. Not anymore, she told herself, but she couldn't let a fight dictate her future, not with people she never thought she could defeat. After all, Rita and Lilian were both girls like her and also found a way to be born. In a way, this made them unfathomably terrifying to consider opposing even before considering their physical power or their skill in battle. There was still tremendous risk. If it hadn't been for Petra guarding the door, she would not have had time to absorb the Light. While within it, she could not be certain what was going on outside of it. It took all she was to not be driven mad by the thoughts and spirits of countless people, too incoherent to read even if she was a master telepath like Phony. If not for Xion, she would have never even gotten to Carmen's old home and she never planned on having her aid in the first place. It hardly mattered that Xion was acting on behalf of an Arbiter because Angela never cared about Binah's past as an agent of The City. She harmed her the least of the Sephirah, even from the ones she still sort of loved. She has tossed aside her hated scrunchie. She no longer wanted to be seen merely as an extension of Carmen, failed or otherwise. Her hair remains long, though the Light has made it grow even longer and more unkempt. She can keep it long so long as someone she loves says it looked better like that as opposed to all the people she hated preferring it that way. She tosses aside her labcoat. There is no Manager to insist on professional wear, and for that matter--if she thought about it and she did--not really a Lobotomy Corp anymore. She wears a black gown, heavily ornamented by black feathers, particularly across her shoulders. She certainly couldn't have gotten a gown like that from where she'd been since she entered the Light. She pushes the doors to the window and it opens outward. She fumbles with the knobs for a moment, with a bit of tense, awkward unfamiliarity--and then shoves the windows open. A brush of air hits her in the face and she stumbles back as if a sledgehammer hit her. Then, cautiously, she steps forward and peers out the window. She sees the City Skyline, the tower of L-Corp's main office rising far above the city skyline. They were finally above the surface. SHE was above the surface. Right in front of her was a small crumbling balcony. From there she could jump off and run towards the Trideag Warpgate and that'd be that. She smiles, grinning wide. Just a few steps... "...An EGO? ... When did you get an EGO?" Gebura asks, then notices that the feathers aren't actually just a part of the dress. They're growing, even as they're talking. "...Crow feathers... Dame Commander had that much of an influence on you, huh? ... But it's unstable." Gebura is behind her, but Angela thinks she can make it if she runs. She's gotten good at running in the past three hundred days. "Who cares? EGO this, Color THAT. Don't you feel it, the breeze? When did you last feel a natural breeze like this? It's been longer for me. If you want four days of Light so badly, perform the experiment again with some new fools and you'll get it done in half the time." She runs. Gebura chases after her. The Color rears back with Mimicry but Angela reaches the threshold first and-- --Mimicry misses Angela's neck by inches. ...It misses Angela's neck because Angela bounced off a golden forcefield that had suddenly appeared the moment she was about to go outside and fell flat on her back at the unexpected sensation.
Angela	"..." Gebura lowers her sword. "...Dunno why that happened. Did you not have enough?" Angela doesn't answer immediately. She's staring at the ceiling, trying to process what just happened. "Hard to imagine it not being enough. It's an energy that's supposed to change billions, it should easily change one person... But I was never exactly solid on how that works. Hod?" "Um..." Hod says on the comms. "I'm not sure, try walking out yourself, Gebura?" Gebura walks past Angela and steps outside. Nothing stops her. She hesitates a long moment and then steps back inside. "...Seems Angela specific..." "I don't know... If it was everyone I could guess but I don't know Angela's design..." Hod says. "Benjamin says he didn't install anything to stop her from leaving so it must've been ... Ayin." Angela runs her hands down her face. She stands up, rips Mimicry out of Gebura's hand and starts wailing on the barrier. With every strike, Mimicry molds itself around the barrier--as if now that it's in Angela's hands, it too cannot leave. She swings again and again but the barrier holds no matter what she does. The strikes started furious but rapidly they become more and more desperate. A scream rises up from Angela's throat and she keeps on screaming for a full minute, which is nearly two hours in Angela's time. "Carmen." Angela says, struggling to keep her voice level. "What's going on?" Hm.... I don't know Ayin could even do a system like this... The City could... It might be force of The River itself... Hard to say without tests.... ... Oh I'm sorry, sweetie..You really got so close. BGM: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x9U7JTGJLWM Angela drops the sword like its meaningless. She starts to laugh. It's not a pleasant laugh. It's as bitter as the most toxic poison. "Ahah....Ahahahaha....! It was all for nothing!" Angela shouts. "My one million years of suffering, I receive no compensation at all! The torture, the death, the awful things I had to do with my own two hands just to reach this point... For nothing! Cinder's death? Nothing!! This week of torturing my friends? Ah, that was just one final joke by the fucking Gods of The City to play on their favorite little marionette, Angela the IDIOT who danced on strings for a million years thinking she'd be allowed freedom at the end of it! One million years! What a joke, isn't it? It is a cartoonish number!" The feathers are spreading down Angela's arms. "Oh it's real unstable now ... Shit, it's like she's corroding--I didn't know personal EGOs could corrode--!" A wave of feathers erupts out of Angela and SLAMS Gebura hard enough she is flung all the way back into Records but more than that, a second swirling black barrier erupts out of Angela herself, shoving back against everyone in the facility, rapidly encompassing the whole facility. As the barrier spreads throughout the facility, you can hear Hod squeak out 'Angela's EGO--it's infecting the facility itself!' and by looking, you can see it happen. The facility warps and twists as the barrier passes through it, books tumbling from ceilings with nonsense for words. That swarm of Abnormalities that Petra unleashed--even the ones in Cells--are rapidly drawn up by the strange barrier and as they are touched--they transform into books with their face on the cover. Soon an endless war against an eternal horde rapidly quiets down as the monsters born from stories return to stories about monsters. With few easy ways out, that means the full force of that barrier is hitting you until it passes by--fortunately it doesn't seem to have the immediate same effect as it did with the Abnormalities.
Angela	...Are you giving up? "...what's the point...? WHITE said I was akin to a Ruler of Diligence, but what am I supposed to do? Wait until this tower until the Head kills me? This was my only chance." Angela murmurs to herself. ..If you really want to give up, I can help you ... but is that really what you want? Let's say you can't leave, what is the best way to live here that you can? "...If I can't leave..." She looks out the window, her hair blowing lightly in the wind. "...If I can't... If I can't serve in paradise... At the very least I'd rule hell." Alright then... Let's paint that and see what we get!! The feathers swirl around Angela, obscuring her body, lashing out at everyone and everything. __________________________________________________________ \|ARNING-WARNING-WARNING-WARNING-WARNING-WARNING-WARNING W\| ¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯\|=\|ANGEL CLASS THREAT\|=\|¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯ ¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯ Thaumiel - Shadowed Crown Of The Tree __________________________________________________________ \|ING-WARNING-WARNING-WARNING-WARNING-WARNING-WARNING-WARN\| ¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯
Riku Asakura	'Ahah....Ahahahaha....! It was all for nothing!' Riku watches this go out of control, he isn't sure what is happening. Why was Angela unable to leave, why wasn't there enough light? Why is any of this happening? After so long and so much pain and suffering. Why did any of this need to happen? Riku was out of his element here, unable to know how to move forward. <J-IC-Scene> Riku Asakura says, "How do we handle the corrosion?" <J-IC-Scene> Flamel Parsons says, "Physically. It's astra-physical matter. We'll figure it out as we go." <J-IC-Scene> Woz says, "The same--pardon. I forget you are new here, Ultraman." After a pause, "Flamel is correct. Listening to what Angela says and engaging with it sincerely will not hurt our efforts either." Well, that's something. Some slim hope of doing something rather than waiting for either Angela's death or their own. They have to push through the corrosion and listen to Angela to try and connect to her heart and draw her out of this state of misery. He's not a psychonaut, but he's an Ultraman. He's got to have something he can do... anything he can do... "Standing around doing nothing won't accomplish anything..." he says, drawing the Fusion Riser up. "You go!" he says, clicking a capsule and sliding it into a holster. Beside him, the image of Ultraman Seven appears. "I go!" A second capsule is clicked and slid into the same holster. This time the image of Ultraman Leo appears next to him. "Time for my courage to burn bright!" he says, scanning each capsule with the Fusion Riser. "GEEEEEEEED!" he shouts, pulling the trigger and being covered in white energy. It looks like fire, almost, and burns across his body enveloping him. ULTRAMAN SEVEN ULTRAMAN LEO ULTRAMAN GEED SOLID BURNING What appears now is a mostly red Ultraman Geed. He's clad in silver armor, that releases steam in bursts as he moves his arms stiffly around. However, he draws back his arm, grabs the blade from the top of his head, and dives in at Angela, aiming to try and push past the feathers. Even as they hit, causing sparks to form across his armor, he continues to go in at her. The blade called a slugger, is driven down, aiming to slash her across the newly developing ego.
Rufus Shinra	It's over. It's finally over. Rufus is relieved. He can finally slow down. He can finally stop putting on a brave face. He can finally stop caring so much. "There. It's done. All Angela needs to do is go out that door, and - I'll get a helicopter inbound to get her and the rest of us out of here," says Rufus as he gets his phone out and starts tapping away at it, presumably to order the aforementioned helicopter. Gebura's trying to kill her still, sure, but - in the grand scheme of things, that's more of an annoyance than a major event. Someone else can deal with that. Probably Angela herself can deal with that, she's all hopped up on light right now, and she's had three days to recover. "Get us out of of here, and to - to... honestly the destination doesn't matter. Anywhere but here." He chuckles. "Hah. You know, I think I never really understood that phrase before. Anywhere but here. Like, if it was literally hell we were heading to from here, it'd be at least a change of scenery!" "Anywhere, but here." And... Angela can't leave. All of that - and Angela can't leave. "... No..." "... No!" "Come on!" "Angela can just stay here, though, and - everyone can defend her here, right?" No, that's not an option. It'd be everyone here against the City, and nowhere to run to. "We can - we can get more light?" From where. How. And how long would it take? > <J-IC-Scene> Rita Ma says, telepathically leaky, "We just have to kill her and let it back out." They barely have the few days that it'd take for the City to crush this facility. They might have a few minutes before Rita takes the opportunity and scoops up everyone else's chips. <J-IC-Scene> Flamel Parsons takes another one. "We'll find a way. Be here in this moment and find the kindest act you can do in it." "Angela..." I can't deal with this. "I care." I can't deal with caring. "You'd given me a chance, back then." I want to go back to being a tourist. "When even I'd written myself off." I still am a write-off. "You trusted me." I still am a cast-off. I can't - I'm reaching here. At the end of all things- At the end of my rope- -what haven't I said.
Rufus Shinra	> <J-IC-Scene> Rita Ma says, telepathically leaky, "I hate your solution. I hate you. I can't hate Angela, but you're disgusting." > <J-IC-Scene> Flamel Parsons takes another one. "We'll find a way. Be here in this moment and find the kindest act you can do in it." No. > <J-IC-Scene> Flamel Parsons takes another one. "We'll find a way. Be here in this moment and find the kindest act you can do in it." > <J-IC-Scene> Flamel Parsons takes another one. "We'll find a way. Be here in this moment and find the kindest act you can do in it." > <J-IC-Scene> Flamel Parsons takes another one. "We'll find a way. Be here in this moment and find the kindest act you can do in it." > <J-IC-Scene> Flamel Parsons takes another one. "We'll find a way. Be here in this moment and find the kindest act you can do in it." > <J-IC-Scene> Rita Ma says, telepathically leaky, "I hate your solution. I hate you. I can't hate Angela, but you're disgusting." > <J-IC-Scene> Flamel Parsons takes another one. "We'll find a way. Be here in this moment and find the kindest act you can do in it." "Rita!" No. "You're right." No. "I know - everyone here is against you." "And we can't stop now." "But." "You're doing what is right." The source of so much of my pain. "And - it sucks that everyone is against you." The source of so much of my misery. "But," "I think you're really cool." "And I hope - when all this is done." "I can try to help get things back to how they were."
Flamel Parsons	"No. No no no, no, why is this... Oh no!" Flamel goes pale. "I should have-- I should have known. How was I this stupid. The math was right in front of me! Oh god how did I not--" He steps back as he watches the EGO seep into the facility. "It's a healing construct. It heals first, before breaking limits... One million years. A million years with a perfect memory. I was so stupid -- it's not enough! It was never ENOUGH LIGHT!" "The wound's too deep! She did everything right to release herself and it wasn't enough, because that bastard Ayin cut a wound too deep and there's not enough light to close it! How did I not see this-- a million years of perfectly-remembered torture, there was never going to be enough Light, even pulling off a plan perfectly...!" He isn't half as anguished as Angela is, but not for lack of hitting his limit. "Angela..." He turns to her. "...This is so fucking unfair..." The feathers rip into him. Lashing impacts knock him about, carrying him off with the impact. He tumbles, skids, lands on his feet-- now he's darting to one side, rolling with the hefty strikes in the second meaning of the word now. "Angela!" He shouts. "ANGELA!" His voice is rising with anguish. "PLEASE! I know it's unfair, I know it's awful-- it's awful to do everything right to escape all of this and to still be stuck, to still not get a chance to live. I don't have anything that makes it okay, or even gives you hope--" His telekinetic jabs and grapples and blasts seek only corroded mass and none else. He never strikes where Angela's body is, only those awful feathers. She could put her body between him and them, and he'd halt his blows. "Because you deserve better! Even if all this were wrong, it's because you're looking for what you deserve! And what you deserve... doing this won't bring that closer! Being alone in all of this, corroding into nothing, killing the Sephirah-- you don't deserve any of the unhappiness that'd bring you!! So..." He holds clumps of the horrible feathers. "So no matter what, I'm going to try to bring you something better. At least there won't be loops. At least there won't be isolation. At least there'll be a breeze." He laughs, his cheery optimism showing up again. "A million years and all you get is a breeze, isn't that typical? B-but..." Firm up. Focus. His psychokinetic beam lances out, trying to rip masses of feathers away. "But it's something. It's a step. It's one painful, awful step. And another painful step will be better than everything falling into nothing!"
Kukuru	It feels like a massive weight has finally lifted from Kukuru's shoulders when hears that singing from the speakers. Angela wouldn't be broadcasting her position unless the plan succeeded, and so this means she's finally free. Her eyes gleam as she tears up at just listening to that song, although she can't just stand there and enjoy it for long. There's still so many injured to tend to. So many friends. So many family members. So many distant cousins, nieces, nephews, siblings estranged or otherwise, even an adopted child. Kukuru doesn't know where to start, but she sees the Agents moving to start tending to everyone's wounds despite their own. They have the right idea. Stop thinking, and just start healing. The nanites will come back in time, anyway, and with Angela finally being free, there isn't a reason for anyone else to get hurt any further now. "Bring them over here, everyone... I'll fix you all up. Please, just... Get everyone here. We don't have to fight anymore, so... Everyone, get everyone you can over here!" As she starts pouring those nanites out once more, however, Kukuru hears something off. Angela's laughing, but the wrong kind of laughing. She's shouting, but not in a joyous way. She's... Frustrated? Upset? Something's terribly wrong. Before she can get up to start moving anywhere, however, the facility starts to change once more. It's nothing like a Meltdown, the breakout, Anything Kukuru's ever seen here before. She sees the Abnormalities pulled into the barrier, and her gaze diverts immediately to where Nothing There and the King of Greed were fighting. She doesn't see them, and a pained shriek comes out and muffles in the back of her throat. She might be the only one hurting from seeing that, but she's far from the only person hurt here. She can feel so much anguish through Angela's voice, and through the barrier sweeping through the facility. Kukuru nearly topples over from that, sucking in air sharply through her teeth while she struggles to comprehend what she even felt. So much raw pain at once, and that's enough to get her to teleport again despite even more pain searing through her from Lilian's curse the other day. It's enough to get her and anyone else in Records to Angela, though, even if she has to fall through the portal just get herself in there to finally face her. "Angie... Is that what you really want? Ruling this... All this from here?" Kukuru calls out as she appears before Angela, groaning hoarsely as she rolls onto her side, then her back to look up and backwards at her. "If this is going to be your new home... Then what do you want to do first?" Kukuru sits up with another painful creak and crack, hissing sharply through her teeth as she gets those bones popped back into place. "There's going to be a lot of... Mmnh! Lots to clean up, and plenty more to spruce up, but we'll have time." Will they? Rita still wants to kill Angela. Gebura was still trying to kill Angela. The City will probably come after her once they find out. Despite knowing that, Kukuru still knows what she has to do, even as she starts lurching towards Angela, one heavy footstep at a time. "Maybe we could try cooking something together, or I could start renovating the outside and bring the beach right to your doorstep... It'll be easier once I have both arms, but I can make do." She looks up at Angela with a pained smile, reaching forward with that singular claw to grasp feathers, clamp down, to start yanking and tearing at whatever she can of that corroding EGO. "Whatever you'd like. I'll be here with you the entire time, so please... Tell me. Talk to me."
Sarracenia	After getting killed by Gebura, Sarra was recovered by...agents? Xion? She's not really sure. But, one way or another, Sarra is somehow standing again. She watches from somewhere nearby as Angela runs for the exit. This will finally make all the suffering and betraying Rita and being even more hated by Lilian...and the worst thing, listening to and following Petra...this will make it all worth it, right? Angela bounces off, narrowly missing being sliced up by Gebura. Sarra flinches like she was the one who ran into the barrier. "Wh-what...?" Sarra hugs the remains of her hammer closer again. Sarra stumbles back a moment. "...we did all of that...and she still cannot get out? Why just her?" Sarra sort of hears the others are saying, but the only thing that really registers is... 'If I can't serve in paradise... At the very least I'd rule hell.' Sarra struggles against the barrier, then gets lashed by feathers. When they pass...Sarra looks MAD! "Are you SERIOUS?!" she exclaims in a pitch and volume that possibly only Lilian has heard from her before. "You cannot POSSIBLY be fine with settling on ruling hell after all of this!! And if you are, I will reclaim that Seed from you myself!! Do you realize what we all went through down here?! How many people might have been helped if we did NOT HELP YOU?! There is no WAY you get to give up now! That would make you just like Ayin! And maybe just like Carmen!!" Sarra reaches up to touch her metal lotus hairpin. She hasn't done much with her morphmetal lately, and now feels like a very good time. The silver flows over her hand, then up her arm. She slides her other hand over it, and the silver flows over that hand and arm to form into a pair of long, elegant silver gloves. Then...she grips the remains of her hammer. The silver flows over it, up along the shaft, and forms into a shimmering new hammer head with a prismatic energy flowing off of it. It doesn't produce quite the same effect as the actual magic of the hammer, but that doesn't matter much. Because Sarra is RAGING right now! If she were from a different multiverse, she might be big and green right now! She throws herself at Angela, swinging that morphmetal hammer for all it is worth. It doesn't even matter much if it misses, because each swing throws off a half dozen daggers of silver with all the force of that hammer behind it. "You do not get to give up!! I will smash you through that barrier myself if I have to!!"
Sarracenia	'But,' 'I think you're really cool.' 'And I hope - when all this is done.' 'I can try to help get things back to how they were.' Sarra's rage-filled face gains some tears as she hears Rufus. "I never wanted to fight you, Rita! Not just because you are so strong but because...I could not blame you at all for taking the stance you did! And you are so kind! More humane than a lot of humans! I did not want to cause you pain and really hoped we would be friends and that after this worked out it would be okay again! I wanted you and Angela to be able to go to that Apple Tree Island...and I guess I kind of hoped I might get invited somehow as well! And I wanted the people of this place who gave up everything or had it taken from them to get another chance! So...even though it might mean nothing, I am sorry!" It crosses Sarra's mind to say something to Lilian, but she learned not even that long ago really that apologizing to Lilian is pointless. It somehow just makes her MORE angry at you.
Xion	PREVIOUSLY... Xion, trapped by the choices she won't regret, risked putting her duel with Gebura on pause again at a critical moment to divert Binah away for recovery. Crying for Kukuru, begging the maimed medic to hurry, Xion holds broken boxbot and salves off what goop she can from further damage with a gravity magic brush-away and scoop. Tired enough to take all the actions in a row, a heartbeat and a half she can't afford, Xion tries to put Binah down standing. 'You miscalculated, Xion. You are much more useful than I am right now...' The two points of light in Xion's mask like Heartless eyes or lantern lights wink out. "You know already, Binah," Xion murmurs. "It was never about calculations and use." Then, she plunged through another portal to return - worried about what would happen to Sarracenia. The wrong worry, perhaps at the overwhelming moment of Hibiki's Swan Song, and Gebura's advance past Petra towards Architecture, but, the misery of this war could only compound. NOW... Xion could be almost anywhere in the facility, but she still had to occupy space. Flickering through leapfrogging teleports whose dark frames of activity wash through the dimming facility in the wake of the Swan Song, Xion jumps twice for every single step she takes, searching, feeling the pain but lost in the dark with the Light. Architecture? She's in Architecture -- with Gebura. Tearing out of the raw Darkness at pace, Xion becomes-a-person-again mid motion. With Raindance -- alchemical gold grip and rainwater blue length with a water-droplets tooth -- in her left hand and her Antegent-black blade held in reserve, Xion makes a slinging hurl-motion to throw black keyblade at Gebura. . . In the same frames as she sees Mimicry in Angela's hands, and Gebura just sort of standing there talking, Xion has to abort an attack she very, very much thought she was going to have to make seriously. Spinning out in an abortive sweep of purple that loops Xion a full three hundred and sixty degrees, the Nobody keeps hold of her about-to-be-flung sword and lands in a skidout of footwork. For a moment her blade-tips lower, the yellow-eyed mask blinking owlishly. "Duel on hold?" She asks Gebura, lanterlight eyes flicking to Angela, then back to the EGO-wearing Sephirah. 'Ahah....Ahahahaha....! It was all for nothing!' The clatter of Mimicry on the ground makes Xion wince at the shoulders, hands gripping side-held hilts. What was she supposed to do? "If it's just a door," Xion begins, underhand-raising the hand with Raindance as if to offer a second key to Angela, when the spread of feathers sweeps out to lash out at everyone and everything. Finally, she makes a noise of pain - mixed with surprise - and summons a defensive sphere of water about her body to ablate the razoring effect of the spray of feathers. Pylon, her black-twist and red capped blade, is swung quickly to send a watery set of vacuum waves back into the feathers, but there's just too many! Teleporting forward through the storm, Xion is buffeted back again by the onrushing and yet-more miserable force of Giving Up, bouncing backwards and kipping to her feet. "Gebura! Are you going to help?!" Xion asks, "Which team this time?!" And Angela was who needed help. "Do you really want to serve in hell?!" The masked Nobody asks, torn coat rippling as she joins Flamel in blasting the feathers and trapping groups in floating spheres of rain. "Is that your goal? Or your compromise?! After all that time, please don't give up after the first step! There's more! Is it the dark??" Did she have a solution to that? She was out of spare Hibiki Tachibanas to comit tokusatsu suicide with!
Timespace Riders	"Impossible," Woz says breathlessly. It's rare that he's ever genuinely shaken--even when something bothers him he can bury it beneath determination, or contempt, to move past it. "The book foretold...!" One where I am wholly free and unbound. Can you find a future as that? ... Simply knowing that it is possible would be enough for me. I shall find it, esteemed Angela, for my Demon King desires this for you, also. It was silly of me to make a deal with you. I wouldn't have to feel this heartache had I not made the offer that day and lived by myself. You chose to stand against me in spite of the flesh and freedom you gained. You could have disappeared and I wouldn't have harmed you. After all, though you have earned a human body and gained the freedom you have searched for so earnestly, you will never take a single step outside this library. The black swirling barrier strikes Woz without his armor and sends him flying. The impact with the floor should surely have drawn more blood than just the scrape on his cheek. And it does--the injury seems to shake loose pages, not from his book, or from the steady rain of them drifting downwards, but from him, directly. "Woz!" Everything that's happened so far to Sougo is like a haze. He's spent so much of himself, worn himself so raw, all to save people he's spoken two words to or to give Angela what she was never meant to have. But seeing Woz hurt that way is like a bolt of lightning in the dead of night, firing aching muscles into action. The retainer takes his king's hand and gets to his feet. "It's alright, sire. I understand, now." <J-IC-Scene> Woz says, "No, it is I who was mistaken. This book has never once erred--it has only ever been my shortcomings as a chronicler which have led me astray. I saw the future with my own eyes. Therefore, Rita, I beg your forbearance, and Flamel, your calm." <J-IC-Scene> Rita Ma says, telepathically leaky, "Forbearance?" <J-IC-Scene> Flamel Parsons hisses tension through clenched teeth and takes a deep breath. "Everything... will be okay. Focus on survival. Focus on getting the corrosion down." <J-IC-Scene> Flamel Parsons takes another one. "We'll find a way. Be here in this moment and find the kindest act you can do in it." <J-IC-Scene> Woz says, "There is no need to 'do yourself' what need not be done in the first place. Yet, if I provide the solution before the problem is known, no one affected will accept it. We must weather this, allow Angela and the Sephirah to say what they will, to each other and themselves." <J-IC-Scene> Rita Ma says, telepathically leaky, "I hate your solution. I hate you. I can't hate Angela, but you're disgusting." <J-IC-Scene> Woz says, "Being hated by you is a small price to pay for what I intend." "Woz..." "Apologies, sire," frowns Woz, "But I am not strong enough to offer the kindness which Rita Ma needs in this moment. To give what I must to Angela and the Sephirah shall take all of what is left in me." Sougo wipes blood from his lip with a dirty sleeve. "Okay. ...let's split up. I'll go help with Angela. I need you to go and find Benjamin." "As you wish, sire." KAMEN RIDEEER.. (RIDER..!) ZI-O--ZI-O!! II! Dare Ja? Ore Ja! NINJA! Futurering Shinobi! SHINOBI!
Lilian Rook	Lilian has barely given the soft order to pull back, and even less time has passed since she retreated as far as she could, when the panicked call from the Sefirah comes through. Still gasping for air, brenched in blood, clutching a bullet wound in her side, leaning on a wall for support, Lilian stares around the corner in the direction of Carmen's office with a mixture of horror, dismay, and relief, that she couldn't begin to articulate if she tried. "You didn't even tell your own allies you still had the T2 code. I know they didn't know." she whispers, under her breath. "Incredible. All this time . . ." Lilian flick-checks Winter Crow. Out. Rifling through her hardcases one at a time, she finds two grenades, one biofoam injector, two hypos, no runes, and no spare ammo. She hefts Night Mist again, and the effort of prying the point out of the floor feels leaden. Lilian resists the morbid temptation to examine her flayed fingers. "You really did have one more nail, just for us. I underestimated you Angela." <J-IC-Scene> Lilian Rook says, "Hod. Gebura. Do you know if Angela's death would release the Light to the City?" <J-IC-Scene> Hod says, "Theoretically..." <J-IC-Scene> Gebura says, "She's got an EGO now. She might kill all of ''us'' if we don't take this seriously." §Ah, how sweet a lie would have been right then.§ Lilian breathes deep §This should go without saying, Rita, but we can't fall back now. Tachibana's most redeemable act to date just fucked us. I'll attempt to rally whoever was just on her side, but I doubt they'll listen to me. I apologize, but I'll need to rely on you now more than ever; I'm only human, and I'm just about at my limit.§ "Listen up, you clueless--" The barrier rolls through the entire facility. There's nowhere to go. Lilian's maximum range right now is less than a floor anyways. The blow throws her back into the wall, driving he air out of her so she can hear the sickening crunch in her wounded leg without her own voice in the way. She doesn't have the breath to make noise. She drops to the floor again on hands and knees, silent coughing, eyes wide and vibrating with adrenaline on the verge of shock. Hacking up a wad of blood from the back of her throat lets her draw in a shuddering inhale. "--Don't you dare roll over and die for her after I've spent all week working on you!" Lilian raspily shouts. "Do you think whatever you can say now is going to outweigh everything she's been through?! Some clever fucking words she only needed to hear, that weigh more than a million years of torture?!" "If promises were as good as freedom she'd have no use for you either! Rip that EGO off of her or she'll kill you just to finally have a single instant of control!" §If all you people do is shout sorries and friendship at her, then--§ Lilian has to grit her teeth and set her place when the onrush of feathers comes at her. Forcing her burning muscles to twist one way and then the other, she deflects, one, two, three four, feathers, staggering back under the combined weight, until the fifth sparks from her sword and slashes her shoulder.
Lilian Rook	"You're supposed to be protecting her aren't you?!" Lilian shouts. She sturns the stumble into a roll behind cover and presses her back to the wall, still trying to catch her breath. Reaching behind her back, Lilian stares with quiet dread at the Clerk grade pistol she'd gathered up from Disciplinary-- and performs a chamber check. Leaning around the corner, elbow pulled in behind it, Lilian begins firing back at Angela with a standard issue sidearm, given to only the lowliest of Lobotomy Corporation, easily found in heaps around the facility; and her grouping is 'good enough'. "What a disappointment, Angela. I thought I saw the same determination to be born in you as I once had. I thought you had more. But cracking and giving up at the first unknown factor, just because you weren't expecting it-- Perhaps I was wrong."
Timespace Riders	--- "Angela!" Zi-O's voice is ragged, but there's no doubting it's his. The greatsword is his, too, and it strikes shaky-but-strong, carrying a polychromatic aftershock of scything energy. There's a glance from him to Rita, but his attention returns to Angela. "I'm sorry I didn't become King in time to help you... but I'm here now, and I want you to see the ocean!" Woz is a purple blur through the facility, searching for Benjamin. With Ayin gone, he might be the last hope of understanding what's preventing her from leaving, and how to overcome it--of providing the plank for the nail he already has.
Rita Ma	Rita's gut drops. Her mismatched eyes widen and pupil-shrink for once, in perfect synchrony. Can't Ms. Rook see the future? Why didn't see see this? I wanted to go down there a minute ago. She said 'no, play the long game'. And I trusted her, because... Even Woz seems confused. Did they change the future? ... Or did she betray me? I feel so stupid. Rita Kukuru-blinks past the expanding barrier to crush one of her own Cycle minions as it disintegrates, getting clipped only by the shockwave's tail end. After a chain of 'blinks', Rita arrives on the balcony behind Gebura and Hod. She looks different already. Her tentacles are woven into facsimiles of wings: one like White Night's, crude and clump-feathered, and one like Apocalypse Bird's, but covered in unblinking cruciform cerulean eyes instead of its ringed gold. Angel in a white dress. And in her hand, Nosferatu's awful red sword, forming itself by drawing in threads of blood from all the slain Clerks and Agents. She doesn't hesitate- not for Angela, not for Hod, not for Gebura, not for any of the Elites already present- in unleashing that indiscriminate pale wingbeat at close range: - - - - hurt - - - - Angela's soul is bolstered right now. When I was glowing with the power to change a world, that wouldn't have done much to me. But maybe it can take the edge off. Ruthless diving strike, next; she can't actually fly with those faux-angelic wings, but her agility does a passable impression, and the bloody blade extends as she crashes it down against Angela's chest from outside the feathers' reach. "Everyone down there. I can feel their hands on my back. They're pushing me forward. It's just a li-i-ttle more," she says as she straightens from her landing, maybe for Gebura's encouragement. "They'd be cheering for me, I think?" A little agonized tremble. "And while there's a millionth of a percent chance, then out of ten billion, that chance is a whole life I have to fight for too. Maybe a child. Maybe he's calling my name." It's a tiny, desperate ember. But Rita's good at nurturing those. "Rita! You're right." All her eyes snap to Rufus- the two on her face, and the dozens on her wing. As he keeps talking- "And we can't stop now-" they abruptly lose interest in him, lost cause, but slowly slide back, and then slightly tremble. She's had time for her next bloody-sword-swing, or even dreadful wingbeat. She hasn't taken it. "I can try to help get things back to how they were." "Save the whole City and I'll forgive you," she says. Why is he being so nice? Didn't I...? Her eyes sweep over to Sarracenia, accusingly. "Bring back the dead Agents and I'll forgive you." While holding a blade made from their blood. "Otherwise, it's not my place. I can't turn my back on those who aren't here." Simple. Tidy. Correct. Why do even the eyes on her wing ache like they want to cry, then? ... Maybe someone else saying it helps me feel like less of a monster. 'The voices of those who aren't here' can't carry me forever.
Hibiki Tachibana	It was supposed to be over. That was all supposed to be the end of it. One last sacrifice, one little momentary Light where there wasn't any, to hold back the River's tide for a while and let this reach its ending. When she woke back up... or, no, even if she somehow didn't, the backlash of her own release ravaging her body in ways that not even something like Kukuru's nanites could easily fix-- it'd at least be knowing that she staked everything she had to save everybody she could. That Angela would finally get her freedom, and it'd all be over to move onto whatever form the 'after this' of such an awful week takes. What she never could have seen coming was blearily, sluggishly fading back into consciousness in Nikki and Carol's grip, eyes leaking blood forcing themselves half open, a wet and haggard-sounding cough escaping when she tries to speak. "...I'm... still... ...Wh...at's..." With all sorts of radio shatter she's struggling to comprehend blaring in her ear, she turns her head to the side, more of her Symphogear flaking off from the movement. Only to see the resurgence of Abnormalities getting swept up within the black, expanding barrier. The halls, the walls, the facility itself corroding away as books fall en masse. Here I was thinking it was finally over, and she can't leave... Benjamin says he didn't install anything to stop her from leaving so it must've been ... Ayin. Impossible! The book foretold... One million years. A million years with a perfect memory. I was so stupid -- it's not enough! It was never ENOUGH LIGHT! All your work was for nothing. I hope you're happy. If I can't serve in paradise... At the very least I'd rule hell. "An...gela...!" Everything aches, and neither the Agents' desperate efforts to heal them nor Kukuru's will entirely bring her body back to entirley working order-- but she nevertheless pushes herself up to a shaky stand a step away from Nikki and Carol, throwing herself between them and the incoming wave to physically block it as much as she's able. Of course, she barely can; she already burnt up any chance she had to holding something like this back for even a second. But dampening how much it hits the others is at least something she can has to at least try, even if the instant it finally pushes past and passes her by, she collapses back down onto her knees, heaving. This wasn't supposed to be how it went. Yet it is. Be here in this moment and find the kindest act you can do in it. "H-Hey, you two... thanks. Not just for... saving me there. But for everything. After all this, I'd like to... go out to eat with you guys," she murmurs back to the pair of magical girl gear-toting Agents. "I'd like to bring Rose along, too... and Hod, if that's alright... I hope she wouldn't... feel like a fifth wheel..." Hibiki gives a little smile, still leaking blood, and makes herself stand up once more.
Hibiki Tachibana	Especially because there's still the onrushing tide of crow feathers surrounding Angela and pushing further otwards to strike at them all, and all she can afford to do is make her body move to defend against them - and push through them. Better her than anybody else. That's always how it's been. She can't bear the load of Angela's pain for her, though. That's the worst part. It hurts more than any new gashes and rips being torn into her body that she didn't just do to herself. "All the things... you've done to get here-- was NOT for NOTHING!" Hibiki forces her voice loud and clear, as best she's able over the howling whirlwind of feathers. "NOBODY who helped you all this time thinks so! EVERYBODY made the choice on their own, to go through all of this, to help push things to this point...! You have people... who won't /LET/ it all be for nothing!!" Her fist rears back. It still functions good enough for the piston inside of it to prime back, and then for her to grip it with her other hand, yanking it back and straining it even further past its normal mechanical limit. And punch forward as it slams back in, at the cost of the entire thing completely shattering afterwards, intending to part the storm briefly with a visible shockwave ripping through the air, on its way to send even more of those feathers scattering off of Angela's EGO on impact. "Even wanting to 'rule in hell'... shows you're not ready to give up on trying to live yet, either!!"
Petra Soroka	"You can walk away from the edge with me, or you can get left behind one day. Your choice." Petra's breath sizzles in the air with gradually dispersing magenta fog as Lilian retreats, too winded herself to react. Whatever she feels about Lilian's parting statement to her will have to be unpacked later, when the room isn't swaying with exhaustion while the Red Mist approaches her to finish the fight off. It's suicidal to stand back up and keep fighting, after barely beating Lilian with all the advantage of the facility on her side, but there's no choice, not when the door's right behind her. "Gebura--! Get the fuck away! You--!" Petra rips Fragments out of the ground and shoulders through the broken door after Gebura, not sure what she'll do, but knowing she has to do something. It'll take a toll on her, but she might be able to pull Sting Silver back together for one last push against Gebura, hold her back until-- "Happy Birthday To Me." "...The T2 Protocol." Until that. Holding the line indefinitely and giving Rita four days to harvest every single breached Abnormality to turn against her would have been impossible, but the mass release of everything in the facility bought just enough time for Angela. When the plan was made, nobody had any idea how long any of it would take, or how long anything would last, because it'd just never been done before. So every extra second that Petra could buy was worth it, no matter the cost. If she'd had to bring the ceiling down on top of everyone to buy five more seconds, it might've been the five seconds that Angela needed for the last stretch. She steps into the room behind Gebura, warily. Angela's humming had put a sense of quiet over everything for a moment, but she doesn't put it past Gebura to shrug off the collective held breath quickly and then go for an execution right now at the end. It'll be her responsibility to stop it, obviously. The flashy part is over, and it's only her and Gebura who would keep fighting the war at this point. Everyone else is probably gasping with relief and throwing down their weapons to call a helicopter for a ride home, or something. <J-IC-Scene> Rita Ma says, "Whether there is or isn't, I hate this future. I'll kill it." <J-IC-Scene> Lilian Rook says, "Hod. Gebura. Do you know if Angela's death would release the Light to the City?" "...An EGO? ... When did you get an EGO?" Petra lunges after Gebura with her spear in a desperate attempt to keep Mimicry from landing, heart pounding and dizzily aware that in a moment she's likely going to have Rita and Lilian both coming in after her, running on dregs of adrenaline and incapable of coming up with a plan better than just standing and fighting. And so she's right there when Angela bounces off the barrier and falls back to the ground, and the dull nausea and pounding in her ears drowns out anything else. "... Ange? You... wait, you...." Petra grabs her hand and tries to step backwards out of the door, bringing Angela with her, and then she herself presses up against the wall just like Mimicry did in Angela's possession. "Th-there's no... no fucking way. Not like this! No!"
Petra Soroka	"Ahah....Ahahahaha....! It was all for nothing!" "Ange-- n-no, no, it wasn't. I'll stop Rita and maybe there's enough Light that Phony could do something, or we could get Doctor Eggman to rig something up, or even Dimo-- l-look! We're above ground! Th-there's air coming in, and sunlight, s-so--" Petra keeps holding onto Angela's hand as the feathers pour down to cover it, tense to the point of sickness and confused and outraged and exhausted beyond belief. If she can't fight right now, she can at least hold Angela's hand. That's the only two things she knows how to do, so no matter how lost everything seems, she'll keep fighting and she'll keep holding her hand, and then... "...If I can't... If I can't serve in paradise... At the very least I'd rule hell." Petra is wiped away along with Gebura by the first wingbeat, incapable of anticipating an attack from Angela. She blinks out of the crater she was thrown into in the warped walls, stumbling through the following shockwave that grips the facility, dazedly grasping for a weapon and pulling Fourth Match Flame again out of Qetra's hands. She braces the sword in front of her face with one charred glove holding the blade, to shield herself from the swirling feathers, and steps back into the room with her. "Ange! It isn't over! J-just, keep relying on me a little longer, okay? Whatever it takes, I'll figure out a way! Have I ever let you down before?! Do you think I'll stop fighting now?!" A glass-crack comes from within the swirling feathers, and then the unfolding shards of the Beauty of Ash slice them into a thousand pieces each, filling the hole in the cloud with the iridescent mech on all fours. A glow inside of its chest obscures where Petra would be almost-visible, radiant like the Light and lensing through the mech relative to Angela, warping and prismatically splintering and focusing like a magnifying glass trying to catch the sun. Then there's a thousand superficial glass crunches as black crow feathers unstably sprout all over the mech itself, echoing the distortion in reflection. Several of the attacks launched at Angela splash nearly harmlessly off of the Beauty of Ash's new feathers, but simultaneously, its bulk provides a tactical shadow for the Elites to hide from Angela's attacks in. The singular blue eye deep within the mech's head blinks gold for a second, as a rippling shatter down its back ruffles its feathers, trying to interpose itself between the fighting parties. <It's okay. If you want to take this place for yourself and rule hell, that's okay. It'll be better than not ruling it, and then next time, we'll get something even better than that. And I'll still be here for it, no matter what. Okay? Ange?>
Angela	Angela can hear that not only it was all for nothing. It was never going to work. Binah made an estimate but that was not an estimate based on the science. Nobody knew the science after all. It made sense as a somewhat informed guesstimate. The feathers start to swirl around her, growing thicker and thicker like an eggshell. She just... is so tired. She's more than tired. Normally, Angela wouldn't mind being told to not give up even by someone shouting. She'd see that as an expression of care. But right now, it just makes her angry. And not even in the sort of way anger that helps out, it's a cold anger. Arguing is pointless, but examples are forever. Her hammering is more effective, the feathered egg might be weak to blunt trauma as she's postiively shredding that thing. "Okay." Angela whispers. "Last one million in ten thousand and tell me that." A swirl of feathers swirls around Sarracenia and... She has been affected by a debuff! Now, Sarracenia is experience the world at 1/100th speed, mentally, while her body moves at normal speed! Unfortunately, Angela knows full well all she's managed to do was last longer than Ayin, so she has no comment on that. ''You know already, Binah. It was never about calculations and use.'' "Spare me your kindness, as sweet as it is, I'm not the one who needs it now." Binah murmurs. "Good luck." ''Duel on hold?'' Gebura says, "Yeah." But she does pick Mimicry back up. She seems unsure of how to approach this fight. Angela is fully refreshed and everybody else is struggling. Her Fixer instincts are telling her this isn't winnable. "If we calm her down, the EGO could stabilize though that comes with its own risks... But it'll be easier to talk to her like that. I ain't good at that but I can chip away at the Corrosion." And Gebura gets to it. She can cleave thick swaths of that Corrosion but she can't punch through the shell faster than it reinforces itself. At least, not on its own. ''Is that your goal? Or your compromise?'' "My goal was what you have..." Angela whispers. "The freedom to be anywhere but here... This is the compromise." Feathers get wet, but they keep coming as Xion expected. But she knows that cracking that shell is the first step. ''You trusted me.'' Did she, Angela thought. At first she definitely didn't. She started out hating him but she couldn't keep it up. He wasn't nearly as spectacular an Agent as Petra but he performed competently enough. She kept waiting for him to betray her but he never did, somehow. Was it just a bad first impression? She doesn't understand. The feather regeneration slows down some, though the egg remains whole. If Angela could hear Lilian praise her for holding back one last nail, she'd no doubt be thrilled any other day. She doesn't want to see her friends get hurt anymore, but she can hear Lilian cough. The firearm plugs into the feathers. This doesn't seem to be having much of an effect but... Does ''she'' need to break the egg? Something in her head is telling her that it will be to her benefit... To just enter that egg herself. Angela never cared much for winning by beating someone up, or winning through tactics or victory through war. It can be seen through her strategy and this--well this is just her desperate attempt to achieve some Control like Lilian herself surmised.
Angela	Angela barely knows Riku, but he did fight for her while barely knowing her. That's not nothing. But it's not enough. Flamel can surely tell, the EGO is Angela's will made manifest and because her will is in a strange place right now, the EGO is out of control. The EGO will forcibly push those away Angela is ill inclined to let in and a man she barely knows isn't going to cut it. He can cleave and punch through feathers but it feels like it goes on forever. Flamel might have better luck. He IS a Psychonaut, after all, even if a Gastronaut might be more suited right now. He blasts feathers away, but he speaks. And Angela has to admit that it wasn't ALL for nothing. There are no more loops. There is a breeze. Flamel laughs like it's nothing, and it isn't, but Angela never had a grand ambition. The egg seems to soften in response to the realization. Kukuru asks what she wants to do first if this is going to be her new home. Angela hadn't thought about that, actually. The feathers rip across Kukuru as she attempts to dig her way in. What does she want to do first? She thinks about Woz's promise and his warning and how it all proved to be so terribly FAKE. Was he just mistaken? Or was he lying? He's just sussy enough she can't be sure! "...Strangle Woz..." Comes the whisper. That's probably not good for Woz! But she's talking to you, Kukuru! Progress! And hey, there's a Woz! Woz is trying to flee and make his way to Benjamin but a swirl of feathers lashes out to try and grab ahold of his throat. Pages explode out of the throat and the feathers transform into a a giant teddy bear claw--this might be a familiar experience for him, actually. "...Did you lie to me, so I would have hope...? Or was it just wrong?" She asks. Sougo strikes at the feather egg in the meanwhile, cleaving thick swaths of it off. It might actually be making progress with Flamel softening the egg up. Benjamin isn't too far from here, he's in the department after all, but first Woz has to break free from the feathers if that's what he wants to do. Though Hod said Benjamin seemed stumped about this too so it won't be as simple as just finding him and asking. Hibiki asks Nikki and Carol what's going on but the confusion in their eyes answer better than words can. Frankly, the two of them barely understood what was happening BEFORE Angela lost it, let alone now. "Sure, we'll eat with ya." Nikki says. "What we usually do after a long day of work. You know, before we were sealed in the torment nexus." "You make sure you're around to see it. We're OUTTA HP Bullets. Fox used the last of it to get everybody up." Carol says. "And uh. If it's the same to you, I'm not going up there." Hibiki can rush forward and she can certainly punch egg, but it pushes back Hibiki with equal force! Rita fights EGO with Abnormality derived weapon. It seems more effective--EGOs are designed to clash with one another after all, and the power Rita is calling upon is close enough. The sword rips apart several layers of feathers with each swing. And those weapons come from a very potent source. "...Save the whole City and you'll forgive me.... But how, from here?!" It wasn't to Angela, but it betrays what her original promise to Lilian was--she was going to join Trideag as a Secretary, didn't she say that?
Angela	If Lilian does use the opportunity to rush the void egg, the feathers will actually peel back for a moment. The interior is darker than the City is right now, but she can leap right on through without interference. And inside, she sees... https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/library-of-ruina/images/5/50/ProphetFullBody.png/revision/latest?cb=20210504215915 It's Angela. Unlike the picture, there is no face mask--her golden eyes are wholly visible. And her haqir remains long. Longer than it was before, actually, if not exactly put together. Her gown is of feather and it has only grown further across her body. A pair of black crow feathers is sprouting from her back, attached to the egg. A copy of Magic Bullet appears in her hands, but she doesn't point it at Lilian. It's aimed down at her feet. She fires it once, but... It's only everyone OUTSIDE who is going to have to worry about the portals appearing and launching bullets every which way. After firing, the Magic Bullet pulls back into Angela's body. Only Petra is unharmed, she only has to deal with the emotional horrors and feathers which seem out of Angela's control entirely, more instinctual than anything. Petra knows from experience that using the 'Eversion' power on Angela would probably only hasten the Corrosion, but she could cut her off from Carmen--at least temporarily--which may or may not help. ''And I'll still be here for it, no matter what. Okay? Ange?'' Angela is having difficulty communicating with words right now but Petra sees a path through the feathers to rush through if she'd like. And she'll see just what Lilian is seeing, too. "...You're hurt." Angela murmurs at Lilian like she didn't think it was possible. "...I don't know what to do." That's more to the room. "...Do I really have to try and kill you, Lilian? I don't ''know'' what to do with determination right now. And it's not like Rita's wrong. But I don't care about all those kind City people... I was their enemy the day I was born, and before it."
Rufus Shinra	> "Save the whole City and I'll forgive you," > "Bring back the dead Agents and I'll forgive you." > "Otherwise, it's not my place. I can't turn my back on those who aren't here." That's about as expected. It's too much. "It's not forgivable. And we can't bring them back." I liked them too. So... Why do you get the moral ammo on this... "I'm not asking you to forgive me. Or to forgive anyone else here." "I'm not asking you to do anything." "Just - that you know that." "That you know I'm going to try to get - get things better. Afterwards." "No matter what happens." She should be the one apologizing to us. I hate this. I hate this. I hate this. I hate her. I hate all of this. Rufus is entirely on defense right now. He hasn't had a moment to recover from the siege of abnormalities. He's barely had time to recover from the battle before that, or the battle before that, or the battle before that, or... "I'm going to - we're going to-" Brave face. Braaaave face. I can't keep it up. "We're going to fix this. All of this." "Okay?" "Not just you. But - everyone here, as much as we can." Spare a thought for me. "So just focus on getting through this." Nobody thinks about me. Is this what it's like for normal people?
Riku Asakura	"Angela. I don't know what to say or do for you right now other than this..." Riku says, being smashed and shot by Magic Bullet. Toku sparks fly across his chest as he falls back trying to regain control of his momentum and carry himself forward. "I'm sorry I don't know what is going on or what you've been through..." He keeps going, using the Geed Slugger to deflect the second shot from Magic Bullet and keep himself from being completely killed. Instead, the sparks that are shed are more than enough pain for that exchange. The crystal on his chest blinks a slow red. He's already out of stamina, and that's not hard to believe given how awful this week was. Even if he missed the last fight due to his injuries against Lilian. "I'm sorry for all you had to go through to get here," he says the Geed Slugger slashing at her new armor. Trying to cut through it repeatedly before he reaches up and summons the GEED CLAW. He slashes down with it, trying to keep up with what Flamel and Woz said, keep the pressure on that corroding Ego. "And I'm sorry I didn't feel it better when we first met. I was just... excited to help you and the others that I didn't understand the weight you and they were holding. I'm sorry Angela, so please don't let this consume you! Okay? They're going to save you and I'll do everything in my power to make sure you can escape this place once this is over. I promise!"
Sarracenia	PREVIOUSLY Sarra was barely alive when Xion found her, but she -was- alive thanks to an HP Ampule from Chewie and Sal. Seeing Xion had brought a tired smile to Sarra's face before Xion had to rush off to do other things. NOW 'Bring back the dead Agents and I'll forgive you.' Sarra's eyes tear up more. She doesn't have the power of resurrection. After just yelling about things not being impossible...did she just encounter something that is impossible? Is being forgiven by Rita impossible for her now? A few quiet sobs escape Sarra before she can stop them, but she doesn't try to argue with Rita. The weight of dead agents is already nearly smothering Sarra. It is one of her steadfast rules, one that she has tried really hard not to break. She does not kill people. She always tried not to, but she devoted herself to it much moreso after she realized the blood of dozens if not hundreds of her soldiers was on her hands after her stupid escapades back when she was in the Confederacy. Of course, there have been more since then, but at least they died fighting for something worthwhile. Rita's world. Stopping Merelisa. Stopping the evil Darkmancer (ugh, such a terrible name). 'If promises were as good as freedom she'd have no use for you either! Rip that EGO off of her or she'll kill you just to finally have a single instant of control!' "What do you think I am doing?!" Sarra shouts as she swings that morphmetal hammer. 'You're supposed to be protecting her aren't you?!' "The only thing I am protecting her from now is quitting! If she ends up dying before that, well...Kukuru can fix her or something!"
Sarracenia	Sarra came in swinging hard, but after only a minute or two she is slowing down. Despite how hard she is fighting, the princess is obviously barely keeping herself going. Her body aches all over, her very -soul- feels weak, and she -still- has grey hair and somewhat wrinkly skin. Skin that now has scars all over thanks to the multiple deaths and healings. The princess gives one more swing before she stumbles forward and lands on her hands and knees, her hammer landing with a THUD beside her. Seeing Lilian fighting with a gun somehow feels wrong. Lilian is supposed to be fighting elegantly and masterfully with a sword. As she pants from exhaustion, Sarra reaches into her purse and grabs something. She pulls, revealing it to be...an overly extravagant two-handed sword with a rose gold flower as a pommel and similarly colored leaves as its crossguard, with a green ivy-like pattern along the blade. "L-lilian...!" Sarra pants out urgently, then holds the sword up as best she can...offering it in place of the Night Mist. It may not be a suitable replacement, but the rose sword was commissioned by Lilian in the first place so it might at least be acceptable.
Sarracenia	But, as she starts holding up the sword, Sarra realizes...things are moving much more slowly. She thinks for a moment she has been time-stopped, but...things are still moving. She feels like she can still move, but when she does...it takes forever. Just holding out the sword is taking -hours- As the sword is slowly being held out over the span of...a few seconds, Sarra has time to take in just how lovely it is and why she bought it in the first place. Of course, the real reason was that she thought for a brief moment that if she had an elegant and beautiful sword she could use it and somehow become more elegant and beautiful herself. It hadn't really worked out that way, though. Her effort was so transparent that she was immediately called out for it and...she knew it was true. Deep down in the parts of her heart that she did not reveal to anyone...she knew she could never be as elegant and majestic and powerful as Lilian. So, Gregory had taken the sword from her and put it in a storage case to remove the splinter of it from her mind. Sarra had reclaimed it later of course, because she is stubborn. But, she used it only as a last resort weapon. Now...it was being used as that again, but in the hopes that someone who actually knows how to use a sword will take it. It takes so long to pull the sword out that Sarra gets bored. She boredly watches the sword extend outward, though her expression hasn't caught up to it yet.
Sarracenia	<So, is this what Angela sees all the time? No wonder she is so grumpy!? Sarra thinks she says as she starts working on getting back to her feet. Once again it takes so long Sarra starts to get bored. She ponders how she could more elegantly get up from a prone position. Perhaps a twirl? Maybe a hop? Back on her feet again finally...and Lilian says something mean. Sarra mmphs and shoves the sword back into her purse. The 'mmph' takes so long that Sarra gets annoyed by her own voice. She picks her hammer back up. She has enough time to take in every detail of it. Morphmetal is such amazing stuff. She wishes she knew how to do more with it. <J-IC-Scene> Petra Soroka says, "Sarracenia, go try and contain the Magic Bullet portals; you can probably react to them before they fire. Be useful like that." <J-IC-Scene> Sarracenia mmmphs at Lilian, then (thinks) she pauses at Petra. "Contain them? Okay but, how do I contain portals? I do not have portal powers or oh idea!" <This morphmetal stuff can move really fast, right? How does Petra do that with hers?> Sarra thinks, and as she takes a few deep breaths to try and get some energy back she has plenty of time to think. <It has to be something with the mind, right? You think and it does the thing. Do I just have to think at it really hard? No, it is more like...will it, right? Like moving a hand?> Sarra does not usually think very hard, and so when she does her tongue ends up sticking out the side of her mouth. Then, the head of her hammer explodes outward in dozens of tendrils of silver! For her it is a magnificent slow motion show of dazzling silver! She tries to add artistry to them, putting designs along the tendrils. Unfortunately, she hasn't really trained in tendril. She has trouble forming them, so as they are extending and the portals start to appear instead of tendrils the bullets are met by silver flechettes, each one carefully crafted into lovely spiral spikes. And while she is doing that she is reaching to pull a green mushroom out. By the end of the exchange with Magic Bullet...Sarra feels better than when it started! She does her best to cover the shots at the others as well, but she isn't all that practiced at sharpshooting -or- existing in 1/100th time.
Lilian Rook	PHONE: Rita Ma says, "You don't need to apologize for relying on me." PHONE: Rita Ma says, "I'd be doing this alone if I had to." PHONE: Rita Ma says, "But why didn't you see it coming?" PHONE: Phoning Rita Ma, Lilian Rook says, "I haven't been able to see anything coming all week." PHONE: Phoning Rita Ma, Lilian Rook says, "I'm sorry." PHONE: Rita Ma says, "Oh." PHONE: Rita Ma says, "... I have myself to blame for not trusting my gut, then. Okay." PHONE: Rita Ma says, "Well, we'll take care of this." PHONE: Phoning Rita Ma, Lilian Rook says, "I was reading their minds the entire time. They had no idea this was her plan. I think only she knew about the T2 like this, and was planning it this entire time." PHONE: Rita Ma 'says', taking a different tone: "I understand. It'll be okay, though. I'm looking out for you, Ms. Rook. And everyone's cheering for us." PHONE: Phoning Rita Ma, Lilian Rook says, ". . . What I wanted this whole time was to save the City and Angela at the same time. And there wasn't one. So I chose the City." PHONE: Phoning Rita Ma, Lilian Rook sighs, "They are. I should remember that." PHONE: Rita Ma says, "If it's still hard for you to imagine the crowd cheering for you, Ms. Rook..." PHONE: Rita Ma says, "I'll just cheer for you instead." PHONE: Rita Ma says, "... I think we all wanted that." Lilian closes her eyes, and does her best to recall. Finn, Solace, Lenny, Sodha, Kofee, Tee, Pete, Knifty, Mang-Chi, Arachne, Bombini, Sanction, Porthos, Dart, Rene, Fractal, Pez, Olivier, Ceri, Nonon, Shajo, Rita; even bleary-faced as they are, however faint and murky their cheers. The warmth of a hand on her back is something she knows. She opens them, and feels the clearest premonition she has since this all started. Lilian leaps through the fluctuating breach in the feathers. The bodyweight that collides with Angela is steaming hot and drenched in blood. Angela can feel the tingle of crackling radiation between then, flensed from the outer layer of Lilian's own skin. Just the act of breathing hurts. The heat on Angela's shoulder is too much for human lungs to survive, but Lilian exhales it like a failing engine. '...You're hurt.' "Obviously . . . Your friends didn't make it easy . . ." Lilian gasps between breaths. "Just because . . . I'm a 'provisional human' . . . doesn't mean I'm not still human . . . Angela. Until . . . that day . . . I'm going to keep getting . . . hurt, over and over again." '...Do I really have to try and kill you, Lilian?' "No . . . But I'd understand . . . if you tried." 'I don't ''know'' what to do with determination right now. And it's not like Rita's wrong. But I don't care about all those kind City people... I was their enemy the day I was born, and before it.' "Angela . . . you dear sweet stupid piece of shit . . ." Lilian struggles to gather her breath. Her eyes burn, but the tears smoulder away before they fall. "So was I . . . Not for any reason like the Head declaring it . . . Just because of hate . . . centuries of it, before I was . . . even born. And . . . you know what?"
Lilian Rook	Finally, Lilian takes a deep enough breath to hold it down. The gasp that escapes her as she reaches her limit is finally invisible. Fresh blood trickles from her lips. "Some of them, just a few, were different. And those people are so precious I wouldn't kill them even to get revenge against every hateful person in the world. You're the only one who's blameless here, Angela. You never had a choice. But you can't throw away the lives of people who can't be here to hold you. Somewhere out there are girls like me who never got the chance to be kind to you at all." "And I can't let you just take away the same power that pulled me back from the brink, just because we don't know their names." Then her hand slams to Angela's face, and the wintry cold and diamond clear point of Lilian's psyche breaches her. A blade with an edge of lunar and cherenkov glow; a perfect divisor of this from that, then from now, consensus and truth, that has but one plane and two sides and crystallizes into perfect lucid clarity as it passes. Even if she has to tap the direct root of the infinite human conscious; the inchoate roiling sea of infinite thoughts, infinite emotions, infinite possibilities, so vast that it renders 'self', 'one', conceptually incoherent--she did that once before. §<<My my, <Angela/Carmen>, aren't you <Spend Your Life To Bloody My Nose>? This <Organ/Geometry/Self> doesn't suit you. You're a stellar <human>, but a very poor <beast>.>§ <J-IC-Scene> Flamel Parsons says, "People have always died when I've done this... Please don't. Please live. Lilian, if you're ready-- let's get to work."' Even if it's a million years of torture, nothing at all compared to Lilian's mere twenty§thirty six§«four hundred«, Lilian doesn't have to override all of it. Everything about her is a blade. She was born with one in her hand. She is meant to become one. She has only to piece to the heart, and sever <then/that/Carmen> from <now/this/Angela> to cut off the artery.
Xion	'You're supposed to be protecting her aren't you?!' Wasn't Xion? Fighting this awful new wrapper was terrible - omnidirectional attacks in a huge melee meant managing already difficult fight motions while one of the more powerful - and crying angel-winged - Elites on the field was definitely not checking their fire. Not sure who'd go which way and having to believe anyway without the available wavelength to touch everyone's Heart and know. She 'wouldn't' touch Rita's Heart to know, not as they both were, and Lilian she simply didn't have time to have a patient conversation with. She hadn't all week. Miserably stiff lips or crying eyes hidden behind a mask wasn't the same. The pulse of Pale damage that Rita erupts with makes Xion grimly pleased that she had fought at the middle range and deflected with Flamel. At the same time, Lilian's invocation -- for an ill moment Xion buckles on what she should do, sick that her automatic response was to immediately mash X (pronounced 'Interact') on the wall of feathers as a harm to be warded away. It was. But with blades? Could a hurt bird be treated with long blades for war? Could a poison be a cure, would more violence solve this? 'But it'll be easier to talk to her like that.' Well. If careful violence worked. . . She'd just have to use the right scalpel. "Then it's one last melt-down, from the person that probably deserves it the most." Xion decides, rotating grip on Raindance and pantomiming dropping it into a sheath at her side. The weapon hangs at her hip and then unravels, the disappearing-motes of the weapon remaining at full glow and travelling across her ruined outfit. Reforming into bracelets and anklets in a rain-blue shifted gold, the shifted focus of the token lets her draw out more powers to fill her hands. Feathers and corrosion and danger all about, and Xion once again draws out the clear-silver token of Fragments, slinging it down before her to bloom a glass-mist barrier that hardens into cracked-glass sharp solidity while the magic bullet ricochet slams and crunches. Fragments Dripping Silver, bleeding chrome 'blood' from cracked clear glass-wounds, holds, but like bulletproof glass, is ruined in the process. Within, lit at wrist and ankle by golden bands that shine through the dark and the hanging shards of glass about her, Xion's shadow draws another weapon, and leaves a sharp and bright trail of sparks against the floor to add color to the whole defensive sphere and explode the damaged wall. Flames, caught and reflected such that the whole of Fragments is cast in red-gold flamelight, dance from the burned-wood blade with pine colored grip and tooth of embering mothwings. 'My goal was what you have...' Holding 'her' confession-blade in left primary hand, Xion cleaves an arc of pleasant, warm flame through feathers to move towards the egg, joining Sougo to light the world up around her even if she has to burn herself. "Then I'm sorry, Angela! I'm sorry for telling Binah, and not you. I should have told you more, but we still have time." Liliain was here. They had 'All the Time in the World'. What was days of Light? It didn't outweigh the months, the years of trying! "When I started, before I had this, when I had to chose, I was trapped! I had nothing! I was nothing, and had no hope of escaping the deep, locked room I was in!" Trying to wield Fourth Moth Flame as a scalpel against the overflowing dread and misery, feathers buffeting her back and magic bullets whizzing about, Xion pushes as best she can. She could fight a miserable war, but could she help save a life? Wasn't that paying it forward? Wasn't that why she was here??? "What saved me was someone coming for me! What saved me was an opportunity! What saved me was making a choice! What saved me was reaching out my hand! It wasn't ruling in Hell! If it was, I'd still be in Hell!!"
Kukuru	Everyone's going through far too much. Kukuru can see it on their faces, as though seeing it on everyone's bodies wast enough already. She can hear it in Sougo's apology, and in Lilian's rallying call. She sees the desperation on Rita's face, and the determination on Hibiki's. "There's so much we could've done better, and... There's too much. There's no way any... All of us could it fix all up right now. If it's too much or millions of people, then putting it all on one person..." Kukuru has no grand ideas on how to fix any of this, but she feels that glimmer of hope in her chest as she hears Angela speaking to her. Even if it's not something she could do herself, getting an answer at all still feels like finding a drop of water in a volcano. "Strangle? Oh dear...That's-" Angela's feathers slash through Kukuru's front, her arm, leaving bleeding marks all over her face. The silver lining to getting cut up this badly is that Kukuru has already used so much of her own body to fuel her nanites that she's still scrawnier than usual, so it's less surface area! That's the type of lie she has to tell herself so that she doesn't collapse from the pain that her healing won't let her just pass out from. "That's fine. We can... Strangle him together later, okay? But your hands... Strangling someone only works if you have smoother hands instead of claws like mine, you know?" She grasps at another bundle of feathers, gently yet firmly tugging on massive handfuls of feathers at a time with her monstrous might, all so she can reach Angela's hands properly beneath it all. Her regular hand slips out a little from under the claws when she thinks she sees Angela's hands under all those feathers, but... Not yet. She needs to be sure she can reach her first. "There's no need to rush any of it, okay? We can take our time with it all, because... You're home now. You're not at work anymore." The nanites flow into Kukuru's arm more, giving her a little more energy to start ripping at those feathers faster, to shield her body a little more from the Magic Bullet crashing through her, to stop up her wounds so she can stay close to Angela just a little bit longer. "We'll have all the time you want. Strangle Woz a little, relax, strangle someone else for a change of pace... You can even strangle me if you'd like? Only a little, though, because... Family shouldn't hurt family too much. Friends, either, even if..." Kukuru sighs lightly, taking a moment to face reality instead of projecting her desires like she often does. "I know I haven't been the best... Sister? Friend? Whichever you'd like. I know I could've done better, but... No matter what happens, I'll be here with you. Even if the entire City is against you. Even if the world wants you dead. Even if..."
Kukuru	"Whether there is or isn't, I hate this future. I'll kill it." "I hate your solution. I hate you. I can't hate Angela, but you're disgusting." Her vision starts getting blurry, partially from tearing up, partially from the blood loss getting to her. "Even if Rita hates you for it. Hates me for this. Please... J-just let me be greedy this one last time." Swallowing down some blood, Kukuru yanks more feathers away, clawing at them still in a desperate effort to find Angela underneath all that. If she sees a hand, Kukuru has to chance grabbing it, even if it's not. "Angie, please... Stay with us. I need you here with me. I can't..." She latches onto whatever she grabbed, practically shoving herself right into all those feathers just to try and part them with her own body. Instead of healing herself, her nanites flow backwards towards Lilian, Flamel, and Petra. They have a plan. Kukuru doesn't, so her best hope is trying to make it even a little easier for Lilian to find that opening, to let Flamel make that connection, to get everything running through Petra so that procedure Flamel spoke of can work. "Don't leave us behind, Angie... I can't lose another one. Not again...!"
Hibiki Tachibana	Sure, we'll eat with ya. You make sure you're around to see it. "...I'll be fine. Just fine. Looking... forward to it." Says the girl looking as if she might actually topple over and collapse dead on the spot at any moment. It's definitely not just anything physical that's still making her body move in the state it's in. Having a promise made for the future helps. "You two... stay safe. And I'll..." ... "Hraaaaaaaghhhhh--!" An impact with the feathered egg simply has equal blowback, knocking the already-injured Hibiki clear off her feet and tumbling across the floor. Another piece of her cracked headset breaks off as she comes slowing to a stop, painfully rolling onto her side and then onto her hands and knees. Damnit. She can't feel her hands anymore. And she can't see straight, either. Her whole body feels like it's going cold. But she can at least certainly see the portal appearing directly below her, courtesy of Magic Bullet, and force the strength into her limbs to hastily push herself out of the way into another messy roll. It still clipped through her side, but as usual, it'll take far more than more physical agony to stop her from forging on. This isn't the ending she wanted - that anybody wanted. What can you do to help somebody who's done everything they can to reach a miracle, and still come up short...? Her tired mind slows down further... ...and goes back in time... "An...gela... do you remember what you told me before...? Back with... Hod. Back before her Meltdown..." Hibiki raises her voice enough to be heard, even as she makes herself move through the hail of magical shots ripping through the area. She dives in front of one and then another coming in for Rufus at an angle, using her unbroken gauntlet to deflect it, and staggers back with the force-- just to twist on her heel so she can push in aside Ultraman Geed. "You told me-- about how I shouldn't feel bad, that the Meltdown couldn't be avoided...! You said... 'even if victory wasn't an option... the effort is still seen, and real, and holds meaning'...!" Flamel needs a path. Physically, and emotionally. So she'll keep pushing herself well past the limit she already broke in half to pitch in even a little bit towards that end, moving to use what corroded terrain is still available to them as makeshift barriers to kick up and fling in the path of whatever Magic Bullet portals Sarracenia doesn't manage to catch. And then follow up with Geed on a direct attack, following his claw with a full-force blow from her left fist-- that makes that gauntlet crack and shatter into a dozen tiny flecks of metal on impact, just like the other. "You weren't... able to make it the whole way... this time. That DOESN'T mean... it was all for nothing! Everybody here... has seen it...! And it's more than real! It's so real... that it's-- supposed to be your birthday now, isn't it!?"
Flamel Parsons	Flamel's maneuvering in the second wave... it's agonized, struggling. Evading these shots is a nightmare, so many of them that no invisibility could help. His agility has to pull most of the weight, at the distance he has to work with. Bruises are accumulating, and he can't get close enough to work. Someone's going to need to deal with those portals. Someone's going to need to cut a path. Someone's going to need to breach that egg. And after... Flamel charges Angela. God. Someone protect him. He's running without levitation, diverting all energy to astral projection. The mad dash will need cover. It'll need protection. To get through the psychic-physical barriers of the egg, the feathers, the bullets, he'll need so much cover... And when he gets there, he'll need Petra and Lilian by his side. It's the only way to complete this mental circuit. Screaming in anguish, he leaps forward...
Flamel Parsons	Project: MYSTIC Project Class: Psychohazard-Sterile Description: Moved to Project Mystic containment and devlelopment site in 1947 in anticipation of potential future outbreaks of the "Mutually Assured Destruction" psychohazardous memetic vector; remained isolated through the 1949 outbreak. Project Mystic is to be hosted in inactive form on a medium with a composition ratio of at least 70% psitanium, 10% psilicon, and no less than 5% psilerium; other elements may be changed as desired. Active copies of the Project Mystic data are to be hosted on MYSTIC-B, "Cold Readers" designed for this purpose. Donor connectomes are to be provided only by Psychonauts with stability class 5 or above. Only neural connectome deltas below 40% of the Qualia Threshold are to be used. Do not import information into the Project Mystic repository that exceeds this limit under any circumstances, due to psychoduplication risk and the dangerous potential for mental clones. Project Mystic identifies itself as Flamel Parsons. Even if we can't make it be properly alive right now, treat the thing with some respect and call it what it says its name is. It's got plenty of conspiracy theories. We think that might be a coping mechanism for being so many people jumbled together in there, and not really knowing what it is. Update - 1956: Technological limitations have resulted in a shutdown of all ongoing Project Mystic development. Due to inadequate psychobiological engineering capacity... Update - 2005: you big goofoffs forgot to change my site director password. nobody reads this anyway. get better IT security, "psychomaster" zanatto. [...] we pulled a full brain-machine interface off his death tank. intuition said i could get flamel out of here with it and i was right [...] he's your problem now, sonny. take good care of him. -Cruller Update - 20XX: I haven't found personhood. In all these years. I can get so close to it. See it manifest, see it reach reality. See the people who contain so much of it. But it's not in me. All I do is hurt it for a greater good. But today, I did something else. I'm sorry, Cruller. You shouldn't have let me out. They should have sent someone else. It's the City's problem now. All my optimism says, they'll be okay. But I know they won't. Sorry, everyone. This City deserved someone better. All it got was me. -Flamel
Flamel Parsons	And strikes the egg. Tossing his sunglasses aside, he grips the crystals that have been growing in his eye all this time, and wrenches out... a crystaline psitanium scalpel, an astra-physical manifestation of what he held when he cut Carmen open to change the future in Ayin's mind. It tears out of his skull and he brings it down on the egg with all the force he can. A circuit with Lilian and Petra flickers. Something conducts. Through Lilian, who may ever lay claim over All the Time in the World, he will try to draw out every year, every day, every hour, every minute, every second -- every nanosecond of memory that rests in Angela's skull, searing a wound into her heart. It will return to her soon, whether he lets it or not -- it's too weighty. It's too huge. It's too massive a burden on her. But before it does, he briefly has all the time he needs to conduct it to Petra. To dump the entirety of that searing, awful, painful mass into her, crystalized in the moment before it can decay in her meager human neurology. A gift, once meant for Ayin, is brought into Petra's mind. The Sigmund Procedure is enacted upon her. The hospice psychonautry procedure meant to let someone receive a single wish in their dying moments, and cascade that wish through every second of their memory in a way that is near-universally lethal. If they can't find a way to relieve Angela of this pain, maybe the sheer weight of it could be turned to healing it, and giving the Light just a little more to work with. Such massive memory changes are known to kill any mind known or theoretically known. It's an awful day, truly awful, for Petra to have a single small crack in her defenses. But whatever wish Petra has for Angela, whatever Petra's one wish about Angela's long history could be, this is the moment where she can make it a little real. If she can take the pain of that subjective experience. Flamel screams from the effort. Sparks fly from his skull. He shudders with agony. But with this, both Lilian and Petra will each hopefully get what they need. People use objects to achieve goals all the time, and may this be another such case.
Timespace Riders	Do you think whatever you can say now is going to outweigh everything she's been through?! Some clever fucking words she only needed to hear, that weigh more than a million years of torture?! "No," says Zi-O. "The one thing I can think of that might--or, at least, might have made it less than a million--I can't give her." "The person who could is dead now. ...Not that he would have given it to her anyway. There are no magic words. But people still talk to family in the hospital, don't they? It counts for something, even if it doesn't count for everything." Save the whole City and I'll forgive you. Bring back the dead Agents and I'll forgive you. Zi-O's grip on the sword tightens. You're telling Rufus and Sarracenia that because you know they can't. Because if you throw that in their faces, they don't have an answer, and then what you're doing feels less awful. He redoubles his efforts into hacking away at the egg, withdrawing into himself. But it's different for me. The motion becomes almost by rote. Hip to shoulder, change the grip, overhead horizontal, hip to shoulder. Even if I can't right now, all I have to do is become King. Then, even if Woz's plan doesn't work, all of this will be like a bad dream. A shout of effort as he forces his body to maintain the marathon pace with the weapon, which seems heavier and heavier with each attack on the egg. We can have Angela, and the Sephirah, and all of the people we lost. And you, and Lilian both, you'll understand. You'll have to. And I'll be strong enough to forgive you for what you're doing, and saying, here today. <J-IC-Scene> Lilian Rook says, "The hero and the monster are on the same side; you're the villain." No, for once, she really isn't. Zi-O pulls the trigger on his greatsword and hurls a point-blank cluster of explosive clocks. The ragged shout he looses is barely present in the back of his mind. There are no heroes or monsters or villains here. If there were, this would be easier. I'd believe you, and listen, and use it to be better, like I do for everything else you tell me. But that isn't what's going on. You wouldn't be sighing like that, and Rita wouldn't be talking about killing Woz and Angela like any other 'mission.' You wouldn't both look so tired. You wouldn't look so hurt when someone you kind of like asks why you're acting this way. ...I don't know what to do. Zi-O stops short of a special attack, the sword held behind him with energy crackling along the blade. "I don't, either," he gasps. The tip of the sword touches the ground. "But... I know who I want to be there, on the other side." KING GIRI-GIRI SLASH! And I can't let you just take away the same power that pulled me back from the brink, just because we don't know their names. That sounds more like you. If that's how it is, then the time between 'then' and 'now' won't hurt as much, if I lose. Golden energy surges across the greatsword. It digs a furrow in the ground as he musters the strength to swing it, the blade piercing through the egg and the wall opposite, pink katakana (ZI-O SAIKYO) burning along the flat. Rather than release the trigger and detonate the energy, he holds it there, intending to keep the egg open for Lilian, even as Magic Bullets pelt him and strike up sparks from his armor.
Timespace Riders	...Did you lie to me, so I would have hope...? Or was it just wrong? Woz gasps for air as he's caught mid-transit. "Neither," he says. "The book is never wrong," he manages to eke out, before he frees himself by raking the neon green kama-blade of his touchscreen polearm across the claws. He lands on the ground and gasps for air, but the sense of obligation to her bids him continue, rather than immediately persue Hokma. "I failed you, not by lying or misinforming, but by answering the wish of the Angela I envisioned, over the one in front of me." "I did not entertain every possibility," he says, rising to a stand, "Did not search as rigorously as you deserved. Had I answered then as you bade me, perhaps I might have earned your trust--and in so doing, penned a kinder future all of us." "If I die here, then my duty to you is unfulfilled. Therefore..." The air rustles and the pages which burst from him scatter lazily after him as Magic Bullets strike the spot where he was just moments ago. His high speed dash takes him to-- "Benjamin," says the Kamen Rider, sliding under a hail of Magic Bullets. "Lower your profile! If you are killed now, after everything we have been through, I will devote myself to the black arts simply to raise and harass you for it." "...help me garner even a shade of the future you all deserve. To make Angela was not an overnight affair. How often did Ayin work without your being present? This book is only as good as the questions one asks of it. When would he have had the time to shackle her to this facility?"
Rita Ma	Other people hack at the feathers. Rita hacks through the feathers, at Angela. It's in the pressing stridency of the lunges, the from-the-shoulders machete-like viciousness of the blood-blade's swings. For the throat. Every time, no matter how many feet of feathers are still in the way- for the throat. And no matter how much she puts into it, her wing's eyes are more on the other combatants than on Angela. One for Petra; one for Xion; one for Woz and Sougo and Hibiki and Binah and Flamel; even for Sarra and Rufus, barely less accusingly. "I'm not asking you to forgive me. Or to forgive anyone else here." The Rufus eye- near the wing's pinion, cold, with its cross-shaped pupil- widens just slightly. Rita hitches, during another wing-flaring skid backwards, and looks at him properly. How can Carmen do it? I want to hate him. He doesn't mean it with his whole heart. I can see it in his eyes. ... But he's doing his best. And if he isn't rotten to the core, this gets so much harder. "Not just you. But - everyone here, as much as we--" "Down!" she tells him, and cuts a Magic Bullet from the air with a Rufus-warding swing. The blood of fallen Agents can shield her allies(?) for a second longer. "... then whether I forgive you or not, if you really mean that, I guess I'll have to let you live." She isn't happy saying it. And it's a big 'if'. "It'd be nicer if you were unrepentantly awful, you know." Someone's exempted, though. Her wing's many eyes identify the eye of the Magic Bullet's storm. Only Petra is unharmed... <J-IC-Scene> Petra Soroka says, "Shut the fuck up, Rita." With a Kukuru-wisping zip, Rita materializes behind the Beauty of Ash with an arm around the robot's 'neck'. Human-shield rear naked choke; tentacles anchor into its back, but it's hard to say if they're making a real effort to stab in. She stays there for one second- then two- long enough to say something right by Petra's head, if she had any inclination- and then she's gone again when the bullet's danger passes. "Kukuru. You said I could ask you any time. Can I have just a little more of you, please?" Even Rita isn't quite sure if that telepathic message is an earnest request or an order.
Petra Soroka	"But I don't care about all those kind City people... I was their enemy the day I was born, and before it." <Ange, I will never, ever, ever, tell you to care about someone who didn't care about you first. That's not your fucking burden.> Petra isn't targeted by Magic Bullet, but with the feathered Beauty of Ash refusing to leave the side of her swirling eggshell EGO, she's barely less affected by the hostile attacks from Rita than Angela is. With the shuddering energy of the distorting facility and the torrent of uncontrolled feathers on top, cracks run down the Beauty of Ash's form and leak Light out from the crevices. The mech looks even more animalistic when the translucent hardlight and internal hydraulics are obscured, and perched on all fours with feathers coating its head besides its long faceted snout, gold eye shining out, it looks perfectly as though it'd fit in among the three Birds of Lobotomy Corporation. <Mercy is the privilege of the strong. And even if you killed all of us here with this EGO, that still wouldn't be you. Not until you can walk out of here on your own. So no one gets to ask that from you.> Petra doesn't know what Carmen's hand is in all of this; the Tree of Light couldn't penetrate into her mind to heal it even when it was shining at full strength, so Carmen's whispers and encouragements are just numb silence to her. What she does know, is that Angela consciously or unconsciously opening up a path in to get close to her is the kindest act available to her, and uniquely something only she can do. There is a part of Petra that will always see a suffering girl and push her as close as possible, and here, at least, she'll be welcome. The Beauty of Ash explodes when a gap appears in the feathers for her, adding thousands and thousand more to the swarm that telekinetically ripple into place on top of glass shards to ward off another pulse from White Night. Petra dives out and stumbles over her own feet, rushing in beside Lilian to Angela's corroding form inside. Drenched in Light while inside the mech, the fire crawling up her EGO and over her neck is instantly familiar to Cinder's from only days ago, and her breath comes away as wood smoke and tears evaporate against her skin. She rushes in and wraps her arms around Angela, opposite Lilian, until the whipping wind of the feathers blows out the lingering flames on her skin. Heavily breathing, it takes her long moments to conjure physical words rather than psychic ones. "And I can't let you just take away the same power that pulled me back from the brink, just because we don't know their names." "But you'd take away hers just because of the cost? You'd see one girl like us and decide that what she's asking for is too much actually, and that she should lay down and die for the others. She's blameless, and you're not, because if you know that you would have done all of this just to get your chance, what's the point of fucking sympathy if you can't choose her side after it?! I would fight like this for you, Lilian! But what's the point if you choose where to draw the line of deserving it in the sand?!" Petra's psychic interference is a shield around Angela, cutting off Carmen's voice like a severed wire, complete with bucking sparks and stinging burns. That, and holding Angela, can keep her 'together' long enough for Flamel to do the Sigmund Procedure. Inside this superheated shell, Petra confesses her sins to the other two girls, while Flamel works his scalpel outside. %
Angela	Angela can't read Rufus's mind. If she did, she might actually... Since he's on the defense, the Feathers seem less inclined to go after him, but it's still swirling around and being problematic. Instead, he's suffering enough that he can hear another voice in his head. If you could be anything, do anything, paint whatever you wanted... What would you want to be, Rufus? You can't make people care about you, especially not with endless care, though there's some tricks--social engineering--to make it easier. Riku is struggling, he can feel himself struggling, but while he doesn't know about Angela--he does know at least one person who was corroded from the inside out, doesn't he? Maybe speaking His Name would help jar her out of her current situation. He can keep at slashing, Gebura is trying her best to time her strikes to augment Geed's--but Flamel's right. They're going to need to stop the Corrosion or through a particular method or this is just delaying the Inevitable. Not that delaying the Inevitable is useless. Certainly, it's buying time for the others to come up with some weirdass Psychonautry solution. Angela can't read minds. She can see, of course, that transmitting her sense of time to Sarracenia had an effect--she also feels like she's bouncing back incredibly well. "You really are like a cartoon..." Angela whispers enviously. But she doesn't dispel the curse (it will fade after the battle though). Angela doesn't want to strangle Kukuru. She doesn't even really want to strangle Woz. What she wanted was for him to be right. But it's normal to be mad isn't it? But she wants to strangle Kukuru even less. It's like strangling a puppy. A puppy that keeps wanting to cook for you and is really trying, though, it feels like she is. ''I can't lose another one. Not again...!'' "Who did you lose...?" The feathers whisper. Kukuru pushes her into the feathers, but they won't part. Angela is partly just distracted, but partly aware that if Kukuru gets inside, she'll see how flimsy a bird she really is. ''I'm sorry for telling Binah, and not you.'' ''I was trapped! I had nothing! I was nothing, and had no hope of escaping the deep, locked room I was in!'' The wings pull back sharply, suddenly. Something about that resonated with Angela strongly, but it's probably not too much of a secret what it was. Xion said the right words in the right way. This'll probably help Flamel's insane plan. Sougo can get in their with his blade and prevent it from closing long enough for Flamel's insane plan.
Angela	Meanwhile, Woz hurts the most right now. Angela believed in him, trusted him, and she did that no matter how sussy he was because he seemed so genuine in that one moment. If it's just a mistake, is that worse than if it had been a plan? Angela doesn't know but Woz breaks free. There's nowhere in the facility free from Angela's feathers, but they do let up long enough for him to reach Benjamin. "Angela won't kill me." Hokma says to Woz. "...Ah, but she might in this moment, I see..." He crouches down a little bit like a good boxbot. "Ayin was a neuroscientist, I don't know if he could have done this. Maybe he installed some sort of block to prevent her from going outside and she's manifesting the forcefield herself? No, she's really giving it her all... You say you saw her future. Is it still possible?" Benjamin murmurs. "She wants control, so what does she have to do?" ''It'd be nicer if you were unrepentantly awful, you know.'' Angela supposes she wishes that was true. It'd be nice if more people were unrepentantly awful. The eyes see all. There is a path open for Rita too, though if she waits for Flamel she might have an even easier target... Just a little longer... Hibiki follows up with a powerful punch--and words that do more damage than her fist for once--the path rips open as much as it's going to. It's now or never Flamel.
Angela	BUT A LITTLE EARLIER Lilian and Petra make it in. The arguing makes her bring her hand up to her forehead--but she wills herself forward as best she can and banishes stray curses from her head. Ignore tha arguing, focus on the argument. She's done it before and she can do it again. For them. Her saviors. Mercy is the privilege of the strong and Angela knows she's not strong. Even if she gets her EGO right now and starts swinging, strength isn't about Gebura killing everyone that moves, strength is Gebura acknowledging people around her and becoming more stable. Strength is being able to feel the sand between your toes. Lilian calls her a stupid piece of shit but she adds dear and sweet before it so Angela doesn't mind. She knows by now that Lilian's love language sometimes means calling someone a stupid piece of shit. Angela feels like a stupid piece of shit, so it's only really fitting. "It's the same out there isn't it? Lots of blades seeking their pound of flesh." She'd understand if she tried. She doesn't want to. Lilian would, but Lilian doesn't kill. She knows that. Only by virtue of it not being neccessary, she supposes. "...Just hate... But I don't understand why anyone would hate you. It doesn't feel real. But it must be or you wouldn't be talking to me like this." ''But you can't throw away the lives of people who can't be here to hold you. Somewhere out there girls like me who never got the choice to be kind to you at all.'' Angela hesitates. A stellar human. But a very poor beast. Her hand connects. Petra wraps her arms around Angela too. Her body sags. Though Petra can't feel it, Lilian can. The sensation of Carmen being cut off from her. That in of itself won't revert the Corrosion(?) but it does stop its progression in mid progression. Lilian can hear a quick Hey! before she's gone. And Flamel reaches out with his hand and uses a forbidden technique for what feels like the hundredth time. How many more times is he going to be made to do this? Hopefully it'll be the last. The feather egg... Shatters. And Angela tumbles to the ground.
Angela	ONE MILLION YEARS AGO OR CONSIDERABLY LESS FOR EVERYONE ELSE This isn't where Petra begins. In fact, she begins at every time. She even gets to experience Angela meeting Petra for the first time. She gets to see her meeting Lilian for the first time. And the last time. She experiences the whole week long war again, she experiences Cinder's death again, but through Angela's eyes. It was so horrible, even for Angela, at that point. She experiences, in fact, Cinder dying every single loop, usually real early on. She was a clerk until Petra came after all. They die easy. Frankly, the torment here is really incomprehensible, but there's seventy thousand loops, one million years of torment, and then Angela's cautious approach to the multiverse, and the slow melting as she started to have hope. And then the so recent dashing of that hope. It's too much, as Flamel said, even if it's just for an instant. But it begins here. In this first moment. And Petra's the only one who can handle this, and that's not the only reason too. Angela is wearing a long right gown, almost a hospital gown. She has just been released from her pod. Her father has just named her Angelos--and then named her Angela. And then he walked away. Petra remembers Ayin's kind smile. And so does Angela. And she's right there, a child, stumbling about on the floor--barely able to walk because of her strange sense of perception. She sinks to her knees eventually and hugs her knees. "...WHy won't he look at me...?" Angela asks the world. "...Did I do something wrong? Why can't I cry...?" She buries her face in her knees. She's an adult body, but the posturing and small voice could might as well come from a small child. "...What would Love do...?" She murmurs to herself. "What lesson would she have for me...?" And in the real world, Angela tumbles out of her coccoon into a crouch even as Petra experiences the horror. Angela stands up, the Corrosion gone, the feathers vanishing around her body un except around an ascot around her neck. The long purple jacket around her shoulders... The black dress and lerggings. THe purple shoes. Aside from her hair still being long, it's exactly how she presented herself in an online game. And in her hands... ...Is a book. She straightens up quickly. "...But I can't give up on living either." Angela says. " BGM: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l0SNfSba3TQ&ab_channel=Mili-Topic She fans out her book out and shifts to one side. "...Her EGO's stabilized...it's the book!" GEbura shouts, moments before a series of veins erupt out of the book and impale Gebura to the wall. "...I will make my kingdom here since I have no other choice... And I'll continue looking for a way to escape... But I promise, Rita... I won't let it be for nothing for all the girls like us in The City..." Angela narrows her eyes. "I'll tear down this rotten City myself. I do not know how yet... But I will find a way." The veins continue lashing out around her, focused on Rita mostly--but all around as she struggles to control the power of her EGO.
Angela	__________________________________________________________ \|ARNING-WARNING-WARNING-WARNING-WARNING-WARNING-WARNING W\| ¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯\|=\|ANGEL CLASS THREAT\|=\|¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯ ¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯ Angela Library of Babel EGO __________________________________________________________ \|ING-WARNING-WARNING-WARNING-WARNING-WARNING-WARNING-WARN\| ¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯
Flamel Parsons	Flamel is blasted back by the uncontrolled EGO. The circuit maintains, but his grasp does not. Unlike these girls, he's not a center-stage actor, he's one who is taken off his feet and winds up thrown clear. He rolls with the shattering, minimizing its damage, and then those tendrils as well, stumbling, skidding back on all fours in a tight kneel... And then he looks up. A book. Didn't Angela mention something about a library at some point? "This absence of corrosion, this heartfelt wish... The despair is pulling back...!" He grits his teeth, forcing himself unsteadily to his feet and reinforcing the circuit. "The memories..." Wide eyes, full of hope and panic, shift instantly. From the woman with her EGO, to one of the ones most at risk. Petra. Her psychic resilience is something unknown. Studied, sure, but understood? Not at all. He's cracked it once, he's bypassed it maybe once or twice. But to know how durable it is, how much it can take before it bends, breaks, or shatters? It's impossible to know. And one million years of painful memories, combined with one of the most lethal hospice-care psychonautic techniques in the repertoire... He can't see her die. As he fights off the tendrils, grappling and swiping with his own numerous telekinetic limbs, he can't keep his eyes off of her, or keep her out of his hopes. No matter how abrasive or hateful or offensive or outright murderous she's been, something in him can't abide the idea of her dying. And he sees...
Timespace Riders	She wants control, so what does she have to do? "Ah." Woz's helmet bobs in a slow nod. "I see." "Do you know, Benjamin, I have been poring over this book for most of this war?" He lifts it up. "More intensely than I ever have. More thorough than ever before. I explored every possibility until I found the answer--a way for Angela, and all of you, to leave here alive, without dooming the City." He gestures with an index, bobbing it first towards the book then, as an open palm, in a sweep towards the facility proper. "When others slept, when I should have been, when Abnormalities under Rita's control stalked the hall and in every spare moment she and Lilian afford us, I was searching, desperately, for a way forward." He clenches his hand into a fist. "It seemed so simple to me, until I saw how many points of failure there were. Do you know that if I had mentioned this to her two days ago--one day--even thirty minutes ago, that those plans would be dashed upon the rocks? All of that preparation..." A sad kind of amusement is present in his voice. "Well, I suppose I do not need to bemoan that to a Sephirah." "...Of course, I looked harder. I did not want to fail her in the same way I had, two years ago. Neither did I wish to falter with the considerable burdens I placed upon myself. I knew it was too late for 'perfect.' Even 'good' seemed determined to slip through my fingers, no matter how I looked for the solution. I could only ever see it in a vacuum--like a piece, absent a puzzle to rest in." "Flamel, Lilian and Petra have laid the groundwork--and you, Benjamin," he says, with a slow sweep of his palm towards the boxbot, "Have illustrated the proper place for this errant piece." "'Control.' The solution would never be accepted, unless framed in such a way. Unless it offered her what she had so direly lacked, for her long internment in this dark place." "Thank you for your help. If this future frustrates you..." His helmet slowly turns away from Bunjamin. "Know that the darkness courted today will burn away to light, in time--and that I will be grateful, all the same, that you are alive to feel such a way. Now, then..." Woz leans forward, cups one hand over his helmet, and provides Benjamin the solution, now finally able to deployed after so much hardship and suffering. "Speak to the others, Benjamin. Malkuth and Gebura, chiefly, but the more you sway to your side, the better the chances of that future. Tell them you believe a surrender is in order; allow Angela to take the Light which she needs to be born, on the provision that the rest be given to the City."
Riku Asakura	Riku doesn't know what he's seeing but assumes it's good because more of Angela is coming back and less of the corrosion is happening. The book in her hand shows a more humanoid form taking shape. The ego is becoming whole, and that's all that Riku could wish fortrying to pull Angela out of this hell. Gebura fights alongside him, helping deflect feathers and tendrils and trying to help ignite his attacks. Steam escapes out the back of one of his arms as he punches down, once more trying to tear through that corrosion. Hibiki fights with him, the two matching their coordination the best that they can. However, Riku was far too hurt, far too gone to keep going. One of the tendrils hits him square on and sends him flying back. Ultraman Geed hits the ground, and seconds later Riku is lying there, unable to keep on fighting due to his injuries and the strain from this week. He slowly pulls himself to his feet, limping as he watches with awe at what the others do for Angela. And what Angela becomes in front of his eyes.
Lilian Rook	'But you'd take away hers just because of the cost? You'd see one girl like us and decide that what she's asking for is too much actually, and that she should lay down and die for the others.' "You're good for nothing but doing what I can't bring myself to. A prosthetic doesn't need to talk, just do its job." 'I would fight like this for you, Lilian!' "You did. You are right now aren't you? And that's because it was always that I had no one else on my side. But Angela has all of you on her side. She has too much of me. And Carmen, the Sefirah, the people who died for this project, have no one if Rita and I aren't there." "Aren't you supposed to be 'the only one who gets me'? Was all that you meant 'the only one who likes me at my worst'? Was I wrong to trust you with protecting her? All you've done is bitch." It's tough talk, from someone physically and mentally pushed to her limit. Perhaps it's inevitable that after nearly a week of grinding against each other like this, Lilian wouldn't be able to help but look at Petra with some degree of enmity. Perhaps it's impossible for her to lose to someone and not hate them a little bit, even if she was sheltering the little hope that she might. She doesn't have the strength to back it up. Just because she has the mental framework to be able to wish for 'infinite time; as long as it takes, to get to where everyone else is; no matter how much it hurts', doesn't mean it's easy to be a channel. It doesn't sting less to ask, just because she'd wondered the same question ten thousand times before. The memory is no less raw for once«I'm sorry. That's wrong« having been that child. Lilian's mind has never reveled in, nor been impervious to, harm. It's always groaned, cracked, warped, splinter; but not shattered. The one thing she can't do is break. The number of scars; fractures in her everything; are proof of all the times she's had to put the pieces back in. §So why is it this bad, this time?! I can barely think! I feel like I'm going to split in half! It's just 'everything else but me'; so why does 'me' hurt this much?! Feel like this much?!§ «I'm so sorry I never told you <Lilian/Holly>« 'But I promise, Rita... I won't let it be for nothing for all the girls like us in The City...' Lilian reels away, clutching at her temple, fingernails digging into her scar until it bleeds. Her palm presses into her face, squeezing down on her eyes as if she could stifle the inchoate mess of the same-but-different visions down by force. "You'd better--" Lilian coughs, then gives into hacking retching. §How many times did I repeat first year? None. What? Did Cecilia teach me about flowers or not? Who is ?§ Her weapon barely comes up to deflect the all-out thrashing, sending her sprawling onto her back, then dragging herself up halfway. The only thing she can keep hold of is her sword. "Rita was there too. Remember? When you saved me. So don't--" The gun. As little as it is, Lilian finds the strength to fire it, shot by shaking shot, from her half-prone position, rising slowly to her feet against Night Mist a little more between each bang. A mere clerk against an Aleph, defiant as they should never be. "Don't make me choose any more than this." "Die, or save the City yourself. You don't have to carry on Carmen's dream. You never asked. But if you want to live so badly, you at least have to carry on mine."
Kukuru	"Kukuru. You said I could ask you any time. Can I have just a little more of you, please?" Rita's.. Talking to her? Asking her something? Another weight leaves Kukuru's chest as she feels a wash of relief at not being hated, at Rita finally coming around to helping Angela, or perhaps it's just opportune delusions striking again in the middle of feeling desperate enough for any kind of release from the tears. The tears don't stop, but there's still a palpable sense of relief regardless. "Rita...? A-ah... Of course, dear. This one's almost healed, so... Be quick about it, okay? Before I lose my nerve..." Her handless arm gets held out to her side, like she's presenting it to Rita for easy plucking. That's not to say she's going to like it, of course, as she's already bracing for another bout of horrible searing pain from getting something removed, but... Rita did ask for just a little more, and she did say please. Besides, the rest of the forearm and her hand still haven't come back yet. How bad could it be? "Who did you lose...?" As much as Kukuru doesn't want to revisit that particular memory, it's something that she could never let herself forget. If retracing even some of that could help Angela through all this, then it's something she'll just have to swallow and do. After all... She's shown Angela this much already, being so broken, single armed, and a shrunken husk of her usual self. There's not much more to lay bare than that even next the flimsy bird inside those feathers. "She was... Nobody. She didn't have a whole bunch of power, but there were enough people around her and potential with what she was doing that the Concord was sorta interested in making things work out. Like... An investment?" That word sounds right in her mind. "But there was some... She made some bad decisions to get where she did. And..." Kukuru swallows heavily, like she's forcing down something bigger than her throat. "She wanted help. Protection, from her sister. I... I couldn't give it to her. I promised her that everything would be okay, and... The Watch got to her. Even though she was right-" She lifts her arm at the wrist, like she's cradling someone's head. Her gaze flits over to Rita and Petra briefly, and then she looks back at her hand. "-there. Even though I only knew Annie for... Not even a day. Not even an hour. She trusted me, and then..." Kukuru's healing isn't keeping up, even with Angela starting to pull the wings back. She still keeps her hand clasped over something of Angela's, although she's having trouble seeing what it is clearly. She lulls forward slowly, then lurches back as the veins slam right into her in the middle of Angela struggling with her new EGO, but she doesn't let go of Angela the entire time. "S-so... Don't do what she did. Don't..." "Don't die. I can't help you tear the City down if you..." Kukuru stumbles forward, momentarily making contact with Angela's new EGO in the process. "Is that yours, Angela? It's... Wonderful, dear." She mumbles as her entire body goes slack, eventually landing facedown on the ground with far too much blood lost and burnt through too many nanites to continue.
Sarracenia	% In her slow motion reality...Sarra can't help a proud feeling as she manages to hit at least a few of those portal bullets. She's helping! She... She misses some, though. And in slow motion Sarra has perhaps the worst time ever. She can see one of the bullets coming toward her, barely missed by one of her flechettes. She can't look away or dodge because she can't -move- at 100x speed. She is able to start moving, but she only gets far enough for the bullet to hit her arm. Which is an entirely new torture. She can feel ever single moment as it starts pressing against her skin, then pushes past and into the muscle, then lodges. With her brain procession so fast, it is almost as bad as when Lilian stabbed her through the belly and twisted the sword! The bullet wound isn't that bad all things considered, at least as far as damage goes. Sarra makes it to Angela talking about her kingdom. Then to seeing those veins lash out. This time Sarra might have had time to move, but...when she does her body doesn't move so much as...the princess just falling backward. Pushed to her limits for days and pushing herself too hard when already at her limit Sarra just...collapses. "...w-what are...'girls like us'...?" Sarra murmurs as her vision starts to fade. It is an interesting and frustrating and scary experience in slow motion. She can see her vision slowly blurring, then sights turning to vague shapes then to shadows and light. If she was not worried that she might not open her eyes again it might even be kind of pretty in an artistic kind of way. The princess can only lie there after that, watching everything through varying degrees of blurriness at 1/100th speed. She does manage one more thing in her barely conscious state. "...I said nothing is impossible, Miss Rita. I do not know how I ever will but...if bringing the agents back is what I need to do, then I will find a way. You...saved those mermaids just because I asked. So...I have to find a way." she manages before it gets too bad. <It really does look like what you see in movies...> Sarra thinks she says as her vision goes almost black, but all that comes out is "...looks like...movie...". <...forgive me Xion. I guess I am not dependable enough...> comes out as only, "...Xion..." along with a few tears.
Rita Ma	Rita is only a rudimentary swordsman, but the blade-of-blood is like an extension of her. It lashes up at the end of a wingbeat-lunge to sever the veins pinning Gebura; then twirls to defend herself, gaining mass and glimmering sharpness with the blood lost from the other Elites. But there are lots of veins. One sword, two wings, and a half-dozen free tentacles don't add up. Blink-blink-blink flickers her around the room, each time with a Gebura-esque hewing cut through the veins; she stops next to Kukuru, visibly drained and scuffed, for-- "A-ah... Of course, dear. This one's almost healed, so... Be quick about it, okay?" "Thanks, Miss Kukuru." Crk-slrrrk. A spare tentacle whipcrack-severs Kukuru's arm at the shoulder. Rita eats it in one crunching bite between sword-swings. A little mercy: she dispenses just enough of her own glowy healing to stop it from bleeding. "I mean it. Thank you," goes through Kukuru's head, gently, before she passes out. "That day with Anita... I..." But then Kukuru's in no state to hear her. "But I promise, Rita... I won't let it be for nothing for all the girls like us in The City..." Rita's wounds heal over with bubbling flesh and sizzling steam one more time. Lower stance now. The spark in her eyes has reignited; more passionate. "Not just for them, but for everyone! The tired workers, who can't become anything more! The little children! The old, and the dead! It has to be for everybody! And Angela--" - - - - die. - - - - Another point-blank ego-eroding Pale pulse, with just a tiny "!" forewarning for Lilian to blink back. Then Rita's swooping in, thrusting her blood-blade up through the book and at Angela's neck. With a little glance back, meaning Sarra and Rufus almost as much as Angela: "I'll tear down this rotten City myself." "I don't believe you!" "When have you been kind when it didn't serve yourself? When have you cared about someone who didn't care for you first! Tell me one time! Or tell me why it's different now!" she says, while trying to drive the blade in. "Otherwise--!" Otherwise 'you're just gambling with billions of lives'.
Timespace Riders	And Carmen, the Sefirah, the people who died for this project, have no one if Rita and I aren't there. I wish I could say how I feel about that out loud. But if I did, I'd be cutting the legs out from under everything everyone's trying to do. Zi-O, too, is blasted back by the force of the EGO's stabilization. The greatsword is ripped from the wall, the golden glow dies out, and he hits the floor hard on his back, uttering a strangled cry of pain. The Zi-O II armor dissipates in a flash of pink light. Sougo Tokiwa is dirty, bloodied, bruised, scratched, and tired. So very tired. His pastel button-up is singed and torn in places, this and his rolled khaki pants are stained in spots with dried blood. He grits his teeth, his face contorted in pain, but something stops him from his first instinct. Rather than reach for his belt to transform again, he reaches into his pocket. Amidst the din of fighting, between bitter accusations and recriminations, a notification buzzes. The bulky cell phone is hardened to survive all but direct hits, an old design given new life with technology not quite yet developed on Sougo's Earth. Its interface is dated, as is its skeleton, but Sougo's present state should be a good illustration as to why sturdiness might be better than modern convenience. He opens the new message he's received. It is done. Sougo taps out a brief response. Thank u. I love u. The not-yet Demon King clutches the phone tight, presses it close to his chest, and feels something between 'I hope' and 'thank goodness,' shutting his eyes tightly.
Hibiki Tachibana	A book. ...I am hoping to get a job as Lilian's secretary, or failing that run a nice library... "Angela... you..." Hibiki gets out only moments before she goes the same way as Geed and Flamel - the stabilized yet still uncontrolled EGO not even focused on her still enough to bowl her off her feet and send her flying backwards and away. She skids along the floor, another piece of armor breaking away, and almost can't get back up. No, she tries. She grits her teeth and staggers back up to a stand, just to tumble forward and go limp upon collapsing down onto her front, blood pooling out of her injuries in the process. A twitch comes to her hand... but no more than that. Everything feels numb. She can't dredge up the strength to force it anymore. But maybe that's okay. It's not like fighting was ever the real key to all of this. It's enough that she can still see Angela, even through her bleary and increasingly unfocused eyes. Her only regret is... ...that she can't do anything for Rita. Not about her. For her. The kind of words that could do anything to make it better simply don't come to her. She always was terrible with words. How many times in the past has what she's said - or hasn't said - only gotten her into trouble? That fact about her has never felt like it's hurt more than now. Maybe it's something that can be handled after all of this. Or maybe it isn't. She signed up for 'living on after all of this' regardless, so. But still. ...But I can't give up on living either. ...Good. I'll tear down this rotten City myself. I do not know how yet... But I will find a way. Fixing the rot that pervades the City. It's easy to not believe that. Or to think it might even just take the form of simply just razing it all to the ground. But the only thing running through her mind, hearing that sentiment spoken out loud, is... ...Haaah. I'm so relieved. I wonder if I should feel awful about that. But... ...It's not impossible yet... for everybody to still end up on the same road, one day... ...All of them... and Hod and the others... the agents... ... ...They're... going to... l... i... ... . . . Her eyes fall shut. She hit her body's limit a long, long time ago. But that's alright. As long as they're alive, the future they built can end up as anything.
Xion	Xion had been fighting, for days. Everyone had, the dragging horror of constant grinding danger peppered with violent confrontations. Psychological warfare, emotional warfare, and physical warfare had left halls full of corpses. They had someone who could bring people back from the dead, and like a truly morbid purgatory it had only been used to trap their own number in this pit. She could leave! Kukuru could leave. Flamel could leave. They could all leave, everyone but Angela. Even now, only she was trapped. Fighting 'darkness', fighting 'despair' with a single matchlight is more difficult than Xion had imagined. The Keyblade was a weapon to release Hearts from their torment, but it was a blade, and the tormented didn't just need the swing of a knife, or even the cautery of confession. But she speaks! And the wings open sharply. Taking it as her cue, to make good on words, Xion advances trailing streamers of silver fiberglass in motion, alighting like streamers among the ember-reflecting shards of Fragments. Flamel's lethal procedure to save a life - the miserable 'best shot' they had, the last in a string of compromises - needs passage and Xion joins Sougo in Making Do. With a channeling surge and an upswing of matchstick blade, an archway of glass cored in silver, forms a passway through the pinions and wingbeats of Angela's unstable EGO. Besides her, Sougo-- --when did he become Sougo? Odd. She had called him Zi-O for years, and then at some point he had become Sougo. When was that?-- --buckles, and even if she wanted to be there, among Lilian and Angela and Petra, there is more than one person - more than one unabandonable heart - that she feels yet responsible for. "Zi-O!" She shouts, masked head turning as she raised a bubble-guard in defense, and then snaps her yellow eyes at the stabilizing EGO. Imploding in a puff of ember-laced smoke and reappearing by Sougo while her archway of glass shatters, she angles to protect Sougo from the followup with crossed blades and. . . '...Her EGO's stabilized...it's the book!' It's not Sougo who's impaled! Xion's heartfelt choice lets her watch Gebura get smashed instead, and stand at struggle while her compatriots begin to fall. 'And Carmen, the Sefirah, the people who died for this project, have no one if Rita and I aren't there.' "I've gotta--" She whines, tight, willing a glass-spear to hand and starting a motion like a break-sprint towards Gebura. Skipping all the distance between her and the lengths of impaling book-tendrils, Xion swings through on the tendrils with her matchstroke sword, and again with a rotation of Starlight. And as she does, things get just a step worse. In all of this, Lilian left her to be the one to protect the others. The one that, of course, was on the other side. 'Least unforgiveable', perhaps for her consistency. She never had the chance to ask, and had thought it would be pitiful to wonder why - and worse to touch and know. It was hard to take the bleakest praise from someone still hurtling to the death of her charge. It was worse to find what she didn't regret among it all. '...forgive me Xion. I guess I am not dependable enough...' Xion had brought Sarracenia here. To this hell, on purpose. Over Lilian's grumpy objections, months ago, to have her trail along to help Binah. And again, joining Tridaeg, and again, and again, all the way to this miserable war where she was shown horrors and harmed unimaginably and still gave her a sweet soda and tried to perk her up, the one who should have been everyone's reliable rock while she played some brooding masked knight instead. Even dialated out, her mind thinks the thoughts and like a whisper Xion finds the message burst-transmitted to her and hiccups, the unlimited strength in her arms finding - finally - its limit. She just didn't want to fight any more.
Xion	In one instant she's clashing with Angela's EGO tendrils and then next her blades clatter besides her halfway across the area, dropping to a kneel besides Sarracenia, lifting the back of the princess' head with her black-gloved hand. "It's okay, I'm here." Sarra hears stretched out over the looooooooooongest time possible, such that syllables roll as molasses and tones, but she knows there's a soft touch there before the lights go out. She has a long time to think about it, even. Lifting hand to face, she pulls at the structure of her mask and pulls away the covering on her sweaty, tearstained and dark-ringed-eyed face. "You did great..." Xion murmurs, ginger with Sarra as glass and embers hang about Xion as an implication of a pooling cloak. "More than I could have asked." It was the same with Hibiki. Xion knew exactly what to say to make the Symphogear user go past her limit -- she knew even the words that would make Hibiki Tachibana die for her. Several times, Xion had turned her head, and shouted 'I'm depending on you!' and knew what she was really asking. Several times, it worked out. Fallen. The one who was being depended on was her. Gunshots. The Pale. She didn't want to fight any more! She was tired of this! She-- Can't abandon Sarracenia, or Hibiki, whom she was side by side with Petra for the words she'd never use herself. 'Pale shielding to Flamel, then Rufus, then Xion, then split the rest, except to Hibiki.' 'Hibiki, you'll know when it's time to use that last resort of yours.' And she said nothing. Now, tender, Xion had to sort Sarracenia first, before bouncing around the ruins in one last spurt of pushing-herself energy to drag those who need it or cannot help themselves to '''safety''', ending near Sougo heaving with breath - somewhere between tears and full-lung exertion. "Is it... done?" She asks, Fourth Moth Flame trailing extinguished loosely in hand. She might be reading his texts. "That's..." Gunshots still echo in her ears, and the sizzle of Pale made her tremble sympathetically, but she oh-so-wishes to be done with this. To lift a blade again for love, in this, would be one heavy rock to push.
Petra Soroka	"Was I wrong to trust you with protecting her? All you've done is bitch." "Yeah. Sorry. You're right. I have nothing to complain about." Petra's eyes flick down away from Lilian's, voice numb. She gives Angela a squeeze. "I'll shut up and do my job now." Voice of the Pure: So we're just killing ourselves, I guess. That's where we're at? Voice of the Servitor: That's kind of a bullshit way to put it, isn't it? Voice of the Pure: Am I wrong? How many twenties go into a million, by the way? Voice of the Servitor: Fifty thousand. Voice of the Pure: What the hell? That was fast. Voice of the Servitor: ... Voice of the Pure: Okay, sure. I got it. Nice even divisor. You haven't owned me. Voice of the Servitor: I will soon, though. Voice of the Pure: That's what I'm saying! Voice of the Pure: We're barely enough of a person on our own even without this! Our twenty years-- Voice of the Servitor: Plus about six months already, from earlier. Ange likes to say stuff like 'it's been years since I saw you' when someone's away for a week, so we should say that it's been six months since we started the war. Voice of the Pure: It doesn't change anything! Our twenty years are barely worth anything as is! We get wiped away by a psychological breeze! Compared to a human, we're already just 'half-there'. Compared to Angela, we're a drop in the ocean. Voice of the Servitor: That's why we like her, right? And Lilian too. That amount of experience and wisdom, the vast and incomprehensible capacity of stories within a person, that has to be recorded and protected, right? Information lost is blood lost. Voice of the Pure: Do we die for that? Voice of the Tempered: We do. Voice of the Servitor: ... We won't. Voice of the Pure: Is it okay if we do? Voice of the Tempered: No. Voice of the Servitor: Yes. Voice of the Pure: Yeah. I get it. Voice of the Pure: Sorry, Cinder. ONE MILLION YEARS AGO "...Why won't he look at me...?" It starts where it always starts, with a father. One Petra's already killed. In the smooth, viscous dream of a hundred times dialation, Petra holds on to remembering that part of herself while watching Ayin walk away, in a separate pocket of her psyche as the despair and misplaced guilt that Angela is feeling at it. It takes twenty minutes to walk over and squat down besides her, stroking Angela's hair like she really is a child. Angela's heartache and Petra's own at seeing her mix together in memory. "Hi, Ange. Angela." Fifty seconds of saying the nickname reminds Petra that the '-a' ending might not be assumed at this point. "I'm Petra. And I'd like to be your friend, if that's okay. It makes me sad to see someone lonely like that. Everyone deserves someone to talk to, right?" It's strange to think that Petra is more experienced with Angela's perception than Angela herself is, right now. Borrowing familiarity from the Angela in the future makes Petra the cool and self-assured older sister, more deft at navigating the world and dispensing loving wisdom she's gained from it. She keeps petting Angela's head while she talks. Being taken away from that battle, thrust into a quiet and temporally sluggish memory with the ego death of milennia stretching out in front of her, is soothing in the same way that Petra's always considered high places or the muzzle of a gun to be.
Petra Soroka	"I don't think you've done anything wrong. I think everyone deserves love when they come into the world, and no one ever, ever has a good reason to disagree with that. I had a friend, you know, when I was about your age. I liked her so much that I wished I was her sister." The specifics don't really matter, but it feels true, that the childish Angela here is younger than ten years old. "Her father didn't like to look at her either, and neither did the rest of the world. And she was wandering for a long time, confused, like you are, wondering what she did wrong, and if everything would be that bad forever, but, eventually, we found a place where it wasn't. Somewhere in the whole wide universe, maybe there's just one or two places, but there's places with people who'll look at you for you, and when you talk, they'll listen." "So, Ange... I'll help you get there. Everything's easier when you're one of two. Everything you go through, it won't feel like you're going insane, because I'll be here too. I can be like your sister, and then, 'family' isn't so bad, right?" "And if Love was here, I think she'd say something like..." It is absolutely imperative that Petra takes the minutes she needs to stand up and flash a winking peace sign with her arm extended all the way out towards Angela. "The Magical Girl of Love says... servants of the Dark Kingdom can take any form, but their favorite one is... dads! But don't despair, Junior Magical Girls! Relying on your friends gives you more than enough power to blast them away with your Arcana Slave, together!" This is what Petra can offer to Angela, the only thing she knows how. Enduring the world alone is the worst harm she can imagine, and so the greatest wish that she can impress on her memories is to simply, also be there alongside her. To be, throughout a million years, a second voice on her side, a conspiratorial gossip about the things only she sees, a commiserating shoulder who hurts the same way, a billion 'it sucks, I know's, and ten million 'did you see that too--?!'s and every other sentiment that ceases to exist if not shared. Humanity only exists in multiples, and even talking to a reflection in the mirror helps. AND THEN, A MILLION YEARS: The first time watching Cinder die is the worst. Or-- the second, obviously. It happens two years into the first loop, only a week in, while Angela is still learning the ropes, and Petra has already spent more subjective time sharing the feeling of Angela's uncertainty with the job than she spent as herself feeling confident. Ayin's attempts at studying an undocumented Abnormality leads Schadenfruede to breach and butcher most of the facility, causing a reset. Petra thought that she might get away with not seeing her specifically in the chaos, but with a hundred screens and a hundred times as much time to look, she can't avoid it. . . . None of the loops have lasted more than a couple weeks at this point, but it already feels like an eternity. Petra's spent more time in this chair, in this office with Angela, than she did as 'Petra' before. She's developed a word game to pass the time, played telepathically between them for respite from the curse, and they're inventing an inane little story together about what the Punishing Bird's adventures would be like outside the facility, since that makes 'outside' feel more real. A new agent shows up, and though Angela-Petra's memory is perfect, Petra's isn't, and it takes her a little while to recognize Yuri.
Petra Soroka	. . . Subjective time is really a misnomer. Time is subjective in the way that a century of the Roman Empire can be summarized into a paragraph, but a diary can have entries for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. At first there's days where nothing noteworthy happens, then years, then entire unremarkable loops. Ayin begs Angela to kill him for the first time. Instead of being alone with the corpse after her first direct murder, Petra is there, arm over her shoulder reassuringly while she cries and screams. . . . Malkuth's first Meltdown wipes the facility. Cinder died a decade before in this loop already, as did most of Control Team. No one knows what a Meltdown is, but instead of stewing in misery and uncertainty for the next loop with no one aware to talk to, Petra is there to bounce off ideas and suggestions, making it seem more sane in paired retrospect. . . . Ayin takes the pills to become X. Rather than being fully, completely alone, with even the man who hated her and wouldn't look at her becoming more distant than before, Petra makes a snide joke about how much of a cringefail loser Ayin is for escaping like that, and they can both snicker about it together. . . . There was never any way that Petra could sustain this herself without dying. Twenty years in another person's shoes would be enough to eradicate 'Petra' from the world as we know her, and this is tens of thousands times worse. If Petra tried to 'remember' herself, then the Sigmund Procedure would just kill her, as it's meant to. A disposable shield for Angela, given worth by being the flammable crucible in which healing could happen, which would be an acceptable end. Cinder walks by Bloodbath's cell while the door is mistakenly open, and drops her Enkephalin cart to slit her wrists in the hallway. . . . So she doesn't. A person stops existing when kept to themselves, as she's always believed. So with Angela's flawless memory at hand, Petra offloads the entirely of her soul recursively into Angela, while containing Angela's within herself. Memory is stored within other people; that's true even outside of Flamel's work. That's why Angela will remember this day, in this loop, in this century, as the one where Petra gushed over Nonon proposing to Shajo, rather than the one where M.O.M. got turned into giblets by Green Noon. . . . Gebura again. The insurmountable wall. Angela and Angela's desperation has welled up, drowned them, crested, broke, been negotiated down, vented by listening to each other rant and rave, suddenly resurged and debilitated them, a thousand times over again. Gebura runs Shajo and Nonon through with the same thrust of Mimicry on the screen, and the ever-familiar noise of TT2 beginning to engage rings out. It took decades to get to this point in this loop, and it's ruined because of that fuckass manager and his dogshit strategy and giving Nonon Meat Lantern's EGO for some reason. Can you believe it?! Nonon! Meat Lantern! . . . There's nearly as many times where Petra, experiencing it all in tandem, breaks down and needs reassurance from Angela instead of the other way around. But that's fine; that's a kind of service too. If it didn't wear her down into tatters just as badly, then how would Angela feel sane instead of demeaned? How would she believe Petra got it if she didn't go insane?
Petra Soroka	. . . It's practically a surprise when unification happens. It is a surprise, mutually felt; rather than being discarded as the latest in a line of infinite false hopes, Petra tells her about all the beautiful things in the multiverse way beyond what the City has to offer. Lilian infiltrates the facility, two becomes three. I'm not at liberty to say much, but I'd like to say that I have some knowledge of what it's like to have to live with things that no one else saw, and no one else remembers. Enough to know how lonely it is. . . . Then Petra herself, and Phony, and Xion, and a mission where she was useful and a conversation in the Darkness. Another century passes, and a vision Woz grants her of the future where she is alone in the Library and Petra is there in that hypothetical future too. Strangling Sarracenia, Rita being served Dreaming Current, the first successful Meltdown, the people helping her for no reason, seeing outside, even through a tablet, fewer deaths than there have been in a million years when Petra joined Control Team, the Eggpack. Subjective time slows to a crawl again, but the two hundred years since the beginning of this loop are thrown into hyperreality by all the people who insist on sharing her experiences and interacting with her day to day life, bringing all of their own nonsense to her, too. And Petra, who was there more often than anyone else, whose measly century and a half of working at the facility changed it enough that the million years prior weren't enough to predict how it would go. Running off on her silly little tasks to fetch furniture at Angela's request, and inventing new slurs to use on people who insulted her, and asking her for help and appreciating her when she gave it, and barging into her office to chatter just because she wanted to. The memories are played from a perspective that Petra hadn't seen herself, being Angela's eyes, but she was there for almost every single one of them at this point in the timeline. Then two years ago, when the Seed of Light is complete, and they have to listen to Adam rant and watch Cinder die, again, for the last time. The war starts, and though there's people Angela hoped would be on her side, there's only one she ''knew'' would be. There's nothing Petra can do inside her head to help with this part, but only because she had already been doing all of it herself in reality, by murdering Ayin, swearing her loyalty even in opposition to Lilian, using every means at her disposal to make sure she didn't break her promise to Angela. Petra gets to watch herself from an external view for an entire year, while she transforms the facility into a hell even worse than anything Ayin managed, reliving the three and a half grueling days in agonizing slow motion and without the benefit of sympathy for herself that a first person view grants. It'd be easy to hate herself that much more because of it, if she wasn't sharing in Angela's gratefulness that she would go this far for her.
Petra Soroka	And then she's caught up, through all ten thousand years of suffering, so the Sigmund Procedure can be worked through her. But Flamel hasn't studied her psychic defenses all that much, it's true. It's not something she can control or modulate consciously, and it comes from the deep-rooted animal part of the ancient mind that claws for 'survival' at any cost, epipsychologically desperate to resolve 'hunger' while rejecting 'poison'. To willingly ingest Angela's entire psyche into herself, the psychic barbs of her wish are turned inwards instead; because the only way the Sigmund Procedure functions with her help is if she keeps Angela's memories too. After the instant where the ravenshell egg peels away, Petra wobbles in place without any indication of what's just happened. Blood streams out of her nose, and she claps her hand over her mouth to throw up between her fingers, before crumpling on the ground unconscious. 'People use objects to achieve goals all the time', right?
Angela	ONE MILLION YEARS AGO It starts where it always starts. Angela shrinks back a little nervously at first--it's just memories, but the memories react as if someone just showed up she didn't know. She's already on edge. But she eases up quickly and in short order she's already leaning against Petra while her hair's getting stroked. At that age she was a lot more willing to show how desperate she was for affection. Petra's always been good with kids and that's who she's dealing with right now. "You're really nice miss...Are you this nice to everybody you meet for the first time?" But she mostly just listens to the story. At this point Angela doesn't know whether she's Angela or Angelos herself and she fidgets a lot, possibly because it's a kid or possibly because she can't stand to stay still for horror reasons. It amounts to the same result anyway. "I'm glad she found a place like that... Mom listens to me, but I can't touch her or anything because dad pulled my--her--spinal column and brain out and stuffed it in a jar so she could save humanity... It sounds important so I guess it's okay. What was your friend's name? I got sisters too but they're dumb and only repeat instructions back to me, they're no fun at all." She's a bit more of a motormouth apparently. ''I can be like your sister, and then, 'family' isn't so bad, right'' Angela says, "Eonni...?" She shifts her body as Petra stands up and does... THE POSE. "...Ah...Ahh!!" Her eyes widen. "You're a fan of the Kingdom of Happiness too?? Love's my favorite--oh hold on, hold on...!" Angela rushes off to a nearby table, trips over her own two feet and flops onto her face. "...I meant to do that...!" She insists. "It doesn't hurt!" And she is a lot more careful and restrained in her movement this time--as she steadies herself and makes her way to a nearby table and takes out some paper and some crayons, wobbling unsteadily as she makes her way back to Petra, showing her a piece of paper. "See, Benjamin gave me this stuff so I could work on my hand eye coordination... it's really hard because my body moves soooo slow but they're my favorite characters in mom's stories so this is my best one..." There's actually five girls drawn on the paper, and it's not very good, though they are just recognizable enough. Love, Happiness, Courage, Justice--and of course one girl wearing the same uniform as Angela on the outside is now wearing, if in simplified form. "See I drew them here. Oh um--The other one..." Angela lowers her voice to a hushed whisper. "That's an ''OC''. She used to be the Magical Girl of Loneliness and she was working for the Dark Kingdom but Love healed her with her magic and now she's the Magical Girl of Friendship. She uses a book because it's easier to read a book for me..." She trails off. "Oh! If you're gonna be my Eonni, you need to be here too. Let me see..." She sticks her tongue out in thought, looks up at Petra periodically and then shows her a new picture, now with six magical girls, one that is clearly MEANT to be Petra but the hair is a bit lobsided and she has these weird extra lines over her that are difficult to decipher. "Six is kind of pushing it for a magical girl team but it's okay it's an expanded universe and--Oh but what are you a Magical Girl of..?" Angela frowns thoughtfully. "...Loyalty? Loyal to yourself and others..!" Mission accomplished, Angela feels like she's doing a bit better already. More elastic at that age, perhaps, or maybe some part of her remembers the friendship they made after all this. Angela remembers a million years ago as if it were yesterday, after all.
Angela	AND THEN A MILLION YEARS Even sharing the burden isn't going to make it any better to endure. Petra will no doubt notice at first Angela got along well with her fellow Sephirah--and no amount of dissuading will stop Angela from trying to help them. This instantly ends numerous loops whenever it's time to, irrespective of the facility's status though this only lasts through a dozen loops or so. Still, in those first loops she looks up to Tiphereth, is intimidated by Gebura, wants to do her best with Malkuth and so on. For a little while that is eternal even for Angela, she sees them as true companions, friends, and family. And then she realizes it's just not going to work. Petra can see through time how gradually Angela is worn down. She goes from hopeful to resigned to despairing to depressed to furious, constantly bouncing between those emotions. The other Sephirah don't seem to recognize Petra's presence in the memories which essentially makes Petra into an imaginary friend, though nobody treats Angela as weird when they communicate with one another either. She's still conflicted about the first killing of Ayin but like in reality, she eventually sees it as a chore. The only big difference is when Petra herself breaks down. Angela seems surprised, like she didn't think that could happen but for a moment that light seems to return to her eyes as she panics. The mind numbingness of it all almost made her forget! She wasn't in this all by herself. She hugs Petra tightly and assures her she'll always be by her side, that they're sisters That she loves her... She thanks her again and again and again. She's terrified of losing her. In this world, Petra is the only one she has, but none of it is a lie. The Magical Girl of Friendship...friendship is more important to her than anything. And if she has one friend that means that one friend is more important than anything. Once, she gets an idea. She mimics Petra's pose on the day they first met. By this point, Angela's a lot less wobbly and not really a child anymore, but she does it anyway. She has trouble looking directly at Petra while she does it, kind of half looking directly at her. You can practically feel her being grateful her face can't turn bright red. "I know... Love's going through a hard time right now...!" Meaning her exploding Agents half the time. "But she'd say, uh... She'd say we might be in the Dark Kingdom, but we aren't alone. We have each other. And she'd say that no dad can beat us so long as we work together. The Dark Kingdom wants to forget we have each other, so we can't let that happen. Never ever." Her tone is monotonal once more but she means it. She means it in the way of 'I haven't forgotten'. And she hasn't. She doesn't. And then two becomes three. The opening of a multiverse brings new hope. Angela's determined to get through it this time. She marvels at how similar the Petra of reality is to the one in her head but gradually she starts to get a better understanding of what actually happened and how Petra had been her friend all along, especially once she hears for herself Flamel speak of the Sigmund procedure. But she also knows that multiple Petras is incredibly normal actually, like really there's so many Petras out there. There's loss, and she shares the pain even as she tries to push it away. There's war, and there's suffering and though she doesn't fight, it hurts to hear the words they throw at each other, knowing it is her fault. And then there's today.
Angela	Angela struggles to get the tendrils back under control. Slowly but surely, her control over her EGO is being asserted. She doesn't quite understand what Flamel did to her--in fact, she barely understands his involvement. A tampered mind, even to a better state, can be quite alarmed at the sudden change. Angela doesn't see Petra fall at first. Her memory was altered and there's a Petra in her head but she came out of that egg fighting for her life and increasingly unsure who are allies and who are enemies. There's still a Petra right THERE telling her to fight, Angela, fight that she doesn't immediately notice the real one in peril. Xion doesn't want to fight anymore. The Welfare Team, hearing what seems to be a fight slowly dying down, slinks onto the battlefield. They are out of HP Bullets but they have some traditional methods to try and stabilize people. They stay the hell out of the way of Angela, though Fox himself ducks down to examine Petra's body even as-- Angela notices Xion hitting her limit. Flamel hitting his limit. Hibiki hitting her limit. Riku and Rufus hitting their limits. It's just her and Lilian, who seems to be near her limit, and Rita--take down Lilian, can she do that nonlethally? Then turn on Rita? Lilian misses the first shot, she probably hasn't missed a shot in ages but her hand is shaking. The others hit dead on. Angela's body jerks around, the thrashing nerves snap back into her book as Angela jerks to the right, and then to the left with each bullet busting into her body. She was designed to survive Lobotomy Corp at its worst but she's still hitting HER limit too. She's not a warrior. If it hadn't bene for over half a week of fighting, she'd be dead by now. Even with a clerk's gun. Petra helpfully got the clerks better guns, after all. "If...all of you together can't beat me..." She repeats, like Rita and Lilian alone equals the rest of the multiverse. "Then you never--" A third shot spins her around, she collapses to her hands and knees. She hears Lilian's demand. She bobs her head up and down. She doesn't know how she's going to do it just yet, or if she has the skill. #-1 FUNCTION (ASI) NOT FOUNDEven...apart... even contradictory... I'll find...way to help you..." She hears Kukuru fall and guilt spasms through her body. She hears a story about nobody in particular. Is this what Rita means about caring about people even before they're nice to you? Angela doesn't know. She thought she had, but had she? Her EGO is giving her answers but right now she's struggling. She can't know for sure. Rita insists she save everyone even as she tries to kill her. She might. A clerk's gun, even an upgraded one wielded by the greatest warrior, can only do so much to Angela's body before it runs out of bullets but Rita seems to have plenty of energy left. The Pale Energy pushes through Angela--but that's a personal EGO she's got there. It doesn't seem nearly as effective as it was before she received it, though it's still effective. Tears along her body show Light where blood out to be. The sword digs into Angela's body, punching through her chest and out her back. Angela doesn't defend against it. Because at that moment, she finally saw Petra lying there. Only her right eye can do it. Her left eye hasn't gained the ability yet. A tear wells up in it as a lifetime of Petra support ends with Petra's body on the floor and knowing it's all her fault. She doesn't say anything. She doesn't have it in her to argue or to explain or justify. Turning her back on Rita, she runs towards Petra and collapses around it, hugging her body close to her own. "Petra...?" She croaks, the tear spilling down her cheek. "Petra, please, c'mon... Petra I'm sorry... Petra... No... No no no.....please no.... Please Petra...please..."
Angela	Woz always knew how it was going to end. Even if he didn't know how to strictly get to the ending, and just how far out it was. That outfit Angela is wearing now? He's seen it, in the Chronicle. There is still an opportunity for her to ruin everything for herself and everyone else, but that day has yet to come. There is a possibility for a hopeful future, but it can't be built on torture and cruelty. What lies beyond that 'golden ending', well, more will be written in the book on that topic as the possibilities emerge. Woz begins his coup de grace. He tells Benjamin many things but chief of which is that it was all about saying the right thing at the right time. Hokma laughs with a sigh, "I imagine...she needed that book first, isn't that so?" He looks out toward the sky. "...If it can help, I'm grateful to be of it." He sends a signal out to the Sephirah. "I imagine you had a feed on the battle. Woz says it'll lead to a better future where we can live and the City can have hope. ... But I won't act like I have the right to demand anything of any of you. So let's vote. Nay if you want to continue trying to save the City, Yay if you want to try this new path." One by one, the voices speak on the comms. "Nay." Malkuth says. "We've come too far." "Nay." Yesod says. "We'd be disgracing the people we've slain to give up now." "...Nay." Hod murmurs. "...But if vote Aye I can accept it. I just can't betray you all again." "...Aye. I don't wanna sabotage the project but it feels like we lost this one." "...Aye. Too many people to treat while we're fighting like this." Chesed says. "Some of them are our friends." "Nay. I didn't get this far just to release half a Seed." Gebura says, but she can't move. "...Aye." Tiphereth says. "...Hook said I should fight for a future. "If I get a vote... Aye. There is a saying, you cannot dismantle the Master's House with the Master's Tools. I don't deny it's a gamble." "...Aye." Hokma says. "...It may be too late to be a father, but at least I need not be the albatross on her neck." And then...
Angela	"Um. Excuse me. May I have a moment?" To those with the appropriate senses... Or the appropriate despair, they can actually see her now. A woman with brown hair pulled back into a ponytail via a little red bear scrunchy. She's still in her labcoat, wearing a light brown button up shirt and a black miniskirt. She had been banished from Angela in a moment, but she's back again--almost as if she never left. She is allowing herself a small sheepish smile. "Since you fought so hard for my goals I thought I should mention ... um, it mostly worked! I guess Ayin really did farm up a little extra energy to make sure. I definitely notice the seeds. I mean, I tested it with Rufus, and then I tested it with people of The City. Sooooooome of them can here me...!" She playfully elongates the word 'Some' for emphasis. "It's a little unusual, haha... sometimes I can so clearly see this world and other times it's like I'm looking into some strange reflections? ... Ah, right!! I meant to say, um, I can't reach ''everybody'' right now like I was supposed to, but I can reach the people who are suffering the most--though, um, that's largely via their own subjective analysis on the matter rather than on an objective scale and--" She keeps going on like this for a while it's really not important, she isn't a rock but can be a bit Flamel-esque at times. "--I guess what I'm trying to say is, it might be more gradual than I would've liked, but I think everybody in the City has The Light? I mean if you want to keep killing each other don't let me tell you what to do..." Neither Sephirah, nor Angela, seem to notice her presence. But a strange glow--similar to the barrier that prevented Angela from escaping, starts to ripple up around the Tower. It's time to go. Or not. There is a Warpgate here but it'll take time to fix it up and use it. Angela doesn't look at it, right now she only--and CAN only--have eyes for Petra's condition. Lilian's phone, wherever it is, buzzes as three texts arrives from her old pal the Purple Tear. 'Lilian...' 'You may be the first person I've seen who chose to fight against the Flow.' 'Let's talk, when you are able.' It may be time to go.