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Kings Row was gone. No buildings were left standing, flames had done further damage, and the Rikti Monkeys had done a wonderful job of killing off any
survivors.

In the shadows of the shattered War Walls, a platoon of Lost marched through. Once upon a time, they'd worn trash cans and road signs as armour. Now,
they were draped in body armour taken from a former police station, defiled with Rikti symbols, and even the lowest Scrounger carried a rifle. With a fanatical
devotion and disturbing training, these traitors were searching for anything that might help their masters. Information, supplies, slaves.

On this patrol, they had little expectation of any real success. The last time anyone found anything of use in the Row was the fusion generators buried
under Freedom Plaza, and that was six months ago. Still, when the Magus commanded, the Lost obeyed, perhaps more than any other Rikti commander. After all,
they were the Elite... and they'd all begun as a Lost.

They stopped suddenly, the robed Prelate at the front of the platoon held up a clawed hand, then gestured to a pile of garbage cans and boxes. Two of the
Lost obeyed, moving towards the rubble. There was a slight shift in the mess, then a terrified shriek as the Lost Headman reached into the rubble and pulled
out a tiny, white and purple fur coated figure in ragged clothes. "Damn," the Headman chuckled. "I thought the masters killed off all the
catgirls." With that, he turned and held up the kitten to the others, drawing amused laughter and terrified whimpers from the girl.

"I say we keep her," One of the Mutates snickered. "She's too scrawny to be good for anything else."

The Headman laughed, shaking the girl. "What do you say boss?" he called out to the Prelate. "You think the masters will want this-" His
sentence was cut short as, with a panicked scream, a bolt of purple energy rippled out of the girls forehead and launched into his. Roaring in pain, he dropped
the girl, who bolted towards an alleyway with a panicked mew.

She made it five steps before the Prelate raised its hand and an invisible force picked the girl up and threw her at a wall. She bounced off the wall,
landed on the ground and didn't move.

"Owww... the fuck was that?" the Headman groaned, still clutching at his forehead.

"A Psychic Dart," the Prelate replied, stepping forward and examining the girl. With a mental command, she was lifted off the ground and displayed
in front of him. "She is not just a catgirl, but a telepath... with the feel of magic," he noted, head twitching to the side slightly. He smiled, the
sharp, unnatural teeth visible even inside the dark hood. "The masters: Interested study: This girl," he said. "Bring her."

***

She woke slowly, reluctantly. That was wrong, not like her. Being unable to wake instantly would get you killed, especially now, when the 'Rick-tey'
were breaking everything. Miss Samantha had taught her that a long time ago. The monsters would appear out of nowhere and burn everything, and being good at
not being noticed wouldn't help if the building you were hiding in burnt down.

Still, it took time to realise that and force herself to open her eyes, and even then she couldn't seem to worry about it. She knew it was important,
but her mind couldn't seem to pass the message on. With an odd sense of curiosity, she squirmed on the rather comfortable surface she was lying on, and
realised that her hands and legs were locked in place. That broke through the confusion slightly and let worry set in as she looked around.

The room was like nothing she'd ever seen. Gleaming angles and strange pillars, and a floating desk that seemed to have images floating in the air above
it. The catgirl frowned, wondering what it was. She'd never seen anything like it, even before the monsters had come back.

Closing her eyes, she tried to listen for the not-sounds. The strange words and voices that no one else could hear, that she hadn't told anyone else of,
even Miss Samantha after she'd turned into a catgirl one morning, just like the older girl. She could hear voices, muffled, like on the other side of the
wall. They sounded a little bit like the Lost jerks that were always around, stealing things she'd found.

Then the door opened and terror cut through the girls heart, washing away the dull fog that had settled over her mind. One of the monsters was there!
Gigantic, wearing odd, red and gold armour, and with the strangest face she'd ever seen.

The creature stepped in, door sliding shut behind it, then turned to look at her. Silently, it walked towards her, seemingly ignoring the way the girl
struggled to get away from the giant scary thing that blew up the world... Then it knelt down and removed her restraints gently.

"Fear: Unnecessary," it said in a bland, almost mechanical voice, but the girl could almost hear a second voice, this one softer, caring,
repeating the words. "This place: You: Safe."

Blinking, the girl sat up and rubbed at her wrists, looking up at the alien. "Restraints: Personal safety," It tilted its head to the side and
added, "Otherwise: Attempt Pointless Escape."

There was an odd tone of... amusement... in the second voice, as the girl wondered why it would be pointless.

"Location: Underground: Facility. Soldier Numbers: High. Also: Unnecessary," she added. "Rikti Intentions: No Harm."

They were just words, nothing more... but the girl believed her. She sat there, looking at the mons- the Rikti, then realised that her clothes had been
removed while she slept (Although clothes really was too kind a word for those rags).

"Garments: Unnecessary. Besides: Fur Coating: Covers All." There was an almost teasing smile, and the kitten got the impression that the Rikti
found the whole clothing thing rather odd. The girl mewed slightly, the best kind of laugh she could manage these days. "Query: Name?"

That made her pause. She thought for a moment, remembered the name Miss Samantha had given her, and tried to speak. Instead of what she was trying for,
what she got was a simple mew. She'd gone so long hiding from everyone that she couldn't even manage a simple word. The realisation made her face burn
with shame.

In response, the Riki knelt down even further, matching her eye level with the girls. For a moment, the kitten had an odd tingle in her mind, like a hand
was brushing over her hair. "Elise," she said softly. Elise nodded, still looking rather embarrassed at her weakness, then made a curious noise.
"Designation: Self?" she asked, drawing an eager nod. "Myrtir. Myrtir W'tin."

***
For a second there I had this Elfen Lied thing with "mew" but it passed.
Martyr?

oh dear...
"No can brain today. Want cheezeburger."
From NGE: Nobody Dies, by Gregg Landsman
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5579457/1/NGE_Nobody_Dies
Oh this is some very dark and bitter chocolate of a story.

more please?
-Terry
-----
"so listen up boy, or pornography starring your mother will be the second worst thing to happen to you today"
TF2: Spy

dark seraph

MD this is a good stroy, but it futher proves my point that your a sick littel monky.

Tongue


***

There was the sharp crack of an energy pistol, and the Sprocket was blasted apart, tiny gears and fragments of alien metal scattering all over the floor. One
of the gears rolled towards a door as it slid open, only to be stopped by an armored boot. Myrtir looked down at it, then back up at where a squad of
Conscripts and Guardians were trying to corner a rather battered looking collection of Clockwork constructs. Narrowing her eyes, the Rikti Priest sent out a
psychic pulse wave that sliced through the connection they had with their master, reducing them to a pile of scraps.

Apologies/Regret for this situation, the Squads communication officer said, straightening to attention even as he shut
down the one way portal he'd used to bring his squad from their duty room.

Myrtir shook her head slightly. Reasonable cause for sounding alarm/summoning reinforcements/alerting duty warden, she
replied, utterly silent. A Priest of the Lineage of War since the days of the Phalanxs unprovoked attack, she had little use for the spoken language in most
situations. Situation Report?

High level psionic event/summoning call/activation code, the officer replied. The Priest let her curiosity at his
choice of definitions show slightly. Some of the automatons/primitive drones emerged from vents/support equipment almost
immediately. They were already present.

Show me, she ordered, and the Officer bowed his head. Memories rose to the surface, followed by those of his squad,
and then those still searching the complex for more Clockwork. With an ease and grace that would have astounded most human telepaths, and horrified those
lacking such senses, the Priest looked through them, seeing events from their eyes, ears and minds. The surge of angry defiance that lashed out from the
prisoner, the sudden clicking and winding noises, sudden angry wails of psychic babbling as the clockwork burst from their hiding places, some of them lunging
at the guards, others rapidly pulling at consoles and machines with deformed hands, rapidly building more of the little abominations.

Myrtir watched from a dozen eyes as the Drones automatically opened fire on any clockwork that tried to approach the prisoner, then stopped, and replayed the
memories. She queried a Headman still guarding the defence fields, two infantry officers in the north corridors. She relieved the moment a young conscript had
been swarmed by Gears, his weapon stolen and woven into one of the 'Knights'. Even as a medic tended to his injuries, she reassured him that the new
soldiers fear was perfectly normal, and that there was no shame in it. With the mental equivalent of a pat on the shoulder, she pointed out that his partner
had been stunned, and he'd taken down two of the Teslas, and ten of the nearly thirty gears that swarmed him.

Then she pulled her core awareness back to her own body, although she remained with the Conscript to some degree. Additional
patrols/sensor scans, she ordered. Enable Level Three barriers. No exit/escape. She showed the squad images
gained from memories, of many of the Gears that had been created in the sudden uprising fleeing back into the vents, and the fact that a number of the soldiers
had lost their sidearm. With a horrified understanding, they obeyed.

Myrtir watched them go, then moved on. As she walked, there as a querying presence through the racemind. Is there a
reason/cause for this lockdown/power seal/interruption? Hro'Dtohz asked calmly.

Another Clockwork event, she replied. I have ordered a lockdown to allow a proper
sweep of the facility/silence his guidance to them. She relayed the memories and her observations. I do not believe it
will interfere/halt today's arrivals.

This is becoming worryingly common/regular, he mused. Power/Control
improving.

As is Sanity, Mytir agreed. Action/Intervention may need to be taken.

Improved defenses/Precautions. I do not need to remind you of his importance/required survival.

Not for the first time, Myrtir wished that they'd managed to keep their first target, or that the Mages had been more successful in their mission. She kept
that from the Lord of War though. He didn't need to be bothered by 'if only's. I have to go/break link/return to
myself. I must speak with him/it.

There was a sharp ripple of dark amusement. And he's less tolerable/reasonable/rational when he can sense me. Whatever
that means with him. And then he was gone, another voice in the song of the Rikti.

Armored bulkheads opened. and a number of soldiers glanced her way as she walked into what might be the most important room of the Rikti Central Command. The
drones paid her seemingly no attention as she walked along the balcony, then stopped to look out at the floating cell, layered in forcefields that only allowed
the nutrient and power tubes in. And in a canister of biofuid floated a human brain and two eyes that seemed to lock onto her.

Ah, it's my favorite warden, here to study me again. Hello Priestess. Did you enjoy my little clockwork soldiers?
came the expected unstable laugh. They're not much, not compared to what I used to achieve, but I'm proud of them.
They tried so hard, and they fought well, even knowing what would happen... My poor, loyal Clockwork soldiers.

Hello King, she replied calmly. Why is it you only attempt these acts on my days of
assignment/duty?

Because I like you! the Clockwork King cackled. Of all the people that took my
Clockwork Princess away, you understood! Duty! Honor! Vengence! Blood calls for blood... that's what drove you to the Lineage of War. What made you wear
that armor. And what... well, I'm getting ahead of myself.. For now, it's just that I'm bored, he said, sounding embarrassed. All locked up here in a little brain jar, and you won't even let me watch television. Not that there's much left of that now.
Even that jerk over in the isles shut up. And the other wardens? The Mage, the Mentalist? They're both jerks. No interest in me except how much more power
they can get out of me per day.

And you expect me to be different?

No, but you're honest about it, and at least you make for interesting conversation. So... how was your day?

***
...wow
"No can brain today. Want cheezeburger."
From NGE: Nobody Dies, by Gregg Landsman
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5579457/1/NGE_Nobody_Dies
Hro'Dtohz seems so much less insane when you can forget this is the same one that authorized plowing warships into hospitals.
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."
HroDtohz who appears to be sane, but isn't.

And CK who appears to be insane, but isn't.

I'm liking this more and more.
-Terry
-----
"so listen up boy, or pornography starring your mother will be the second worst thing to happen to you today"
TF2: Spy
She radiated disbelief at his claims. You have a motive/goal/objective here.

Besides simple conversation? the Clockwork King giggled. The other wardens only bark
their threats, showing off their need to prove they're in control. The soldiers never talk to me, although I listen to them. Their words and sounds and
memories... I hear you have a new project. A human telepath.

Myrtirs eyes narrowed, irritation flickering over their conversational link. Your shields/cell walls will need to be
reinforced.

I'll that that as a yes. I have to admit, I'm curious. Why would such a high ranking Priestess take an interest in a
mere human. Anger rippled around him as he demanded. Planning to make another gateway? Torture a child to summon your
armies?

The Rikti held up a hand. Her power is not to such a level, she reassured him. My
interest is due to the nature/origin/design of her mental powers. Magical Telepathy is new/unknown/unexplained.

Which of those terms suits your peoples attitude towards it? the brain asked. No
matter, he added before she could respond. While they won't always be comfortable with the origin, your people
will welcome young Elice... Oh, don't worry, I'm not reading your mind, he cackled. I couldn't if I
tried... you're too powerful, well trained and frankly, almost all my power's being used to open the door for your armies.

There was a flicker, a stray thought, and the Priest seized on it, dragging it out for inspection. And not all of it was used
for this little tantrum/show, she realized. Because it is a power unsuited for such actions.

Oh yes! the King laughed, delighted by his jailers perception. This is a power I
didn't even know I had, until you left me with nothing else! Oh, it's a marvelous discovery. Honestly, it's the only thing that's kept me from
going mad, given you won't let we watch the old Freedom Phalanx cartoons. He laughed again at the flare of anger mentioning the Freedom Phalanx
brought about. I can see things. Other worlds, other times. I see a world where Requiem unleashed a never ending darkness,
where the Hamidon devoured all... a world where I killed everyone and everything... That one was oddly relaxing. That's probably not a good sign.

Most likely, she agreed dryly.

Sometimes I wonder if it's just my mind playing tricks on me. My imagination, whatever's left of it. But I've
learned things that even my Gear spies could never have told me before. Your peoples origins so long ago, when you became not more or less then human, just...
different. The dark wars of ancient Cimorea and their alien masters. What truly happened at the Well of the Furies, and what will happen again. I see the
Oncoming Storm, and the struggles of Ouroboros to stop it. Here, now, they will likely fail.

Myrtir took a step closer to the edge of the platform, her attention locked on the mutant brain and the words he shared only with her. She could barely sense
the Magus behind her, his arcane abilities drawing his attention to something he could never understand. Even with the power of magic, most Rikti minds just
could not understand prophecy.

I see a world where my Clockwork Princess was taken from me later, and rescued by... heroes... the air rippled with
hatred and disgust for a moment. The things I could tell you of that world... but not today. The moment ended.
That girl is important. Watch her. Protect her.

She mentally frowned. I do not serve/obey you.

I'm not ordering. I'm merely suggesting you do what will come naturally... I'm done now. Don't worry, I
won't interferre with the coming troop transfers, despite the pain. Good day Myrtir W'tin.

Myrtir frowned as the Clockwork King fell silent. For a moment, she felt rather foolish, considering the idea that the brain had merely been messing with her,
some game in his twisted mind. She dismissed that a moment later. The Kings thoughts were true and accurate to the best of his ability... whatever that means
in this case, as the Lord of War would put it.

Her mind considered the matter, even as she went to make sure that the great portals power chamber had been cleansed of Clockwork.

***

Several hundred meters above, a pair of Gears stopped to take a break in the long climb up an air vent. One of them sat down in a side vent as the other
stretched, working the connections in its back. After a minute, they seemed to hold a conversation, then resumed climbing.

***
is it acceptable if I squee in joy at the places others have run with this alternate earth? Cause I think this is fantastic. And the thought of clockwork
having sore backs made me giggle
-Terry
-----
"so listen up boy, or pornography starring your mother will be the second worst thing to happen to you today"
TF2: Spy