OPEN TO:
Lightning crackles across a dingy, red-clouded sky as the sea beneath and the ravaged earth below are painted in the colors of dry blood. Enormous green tentacles wave back and forth next to a jagged line of gold that looks bronze in the polluted light. It points forward towards a small island that is hauntingly familiar. A broken shell of Orouboros lies floating amid the blood-stained sky. The great cathedral windows are shattered, the delicate golden sundial strand is long since wripped asunder from its surface. Burning trees provide the crooked, but not yet sinking, isle with a modicum of light.
Imperious is highlighted in the flames as he walks among the trees towards the central citadel, frowning as he recognizes a man both like and utterly unlike him coming from the opposite direction. The features of the red-clad Reichsman twist in distaste as he takes in the other man.
REICHSMAN:
Were you the one that brought me here? Return me to my own reality, and perhaps I shall let you live despite your impudence.
IMPERIOUS:
It was not I, but regardless, you would not find a mere pup to grovel at your boots should you try, dog.
REICHSMAN:
You dare-?!
VOICE:
Enough.
Both turn to the shape of a featureless brown cloak sweeping across the still somehow immaculate marble of the floor, exiting the citadel proper. The hood is drawn up high, obscuring the figure's features, but a gleaming emblem of gold in the shape of a golden snake eating its own tail, the symbol of the Ouroboros Menders, sits at clasped at the left shoulder, holding the collar closed.
REICHSMAN:
So you were the one that brought us here. Answer quickly, before I tear you limb from limb.
MENDER:
I was. I have brought you here for a purpose.
REICHSMAN:
No one summons me.
MENDER:
We Menders may have all the time in the world, but that does not mean I must bear your pointless bravado and empty threats, Reichsman. Behold the reason you have been brought here.
A small octahedron floats out from the depths of the cloak, hovering above one of the cracked PILLARS OF ICE AND FLAME, before it expands and contracts, flaring into a gigantic multifaceted fractal prism, the center of which slowly expands to show the scene of the IMPERIAL DEFENSE FORCE ravaging PARAGON CITY before moving further outward, slowly overwhelming all in their path. REICHSMAN whirls towards THE MENDER.
REICHSMAN:
You deprive my men of my leadership to allow this...this usurpation to happen?!
THE MENDER:
No. I seek to prevent it.
IMPERIOUS looks at the figure with narrowed eyes, before contemplating the view before him.
IMPERIOUS:
These were the people who rescued my lands from Romulus. Yet now it is they who lie broken...defeated. How do we defeat such a foe who could triumph over even them in their very homes of power?
MENDER:
By changing what has been into what may be.
THE MENDER walks towards the image, which shifts as he approaches, showing a delicate piece of masonry with a stream of what appears to be liquid gold dripping down it. Both IMPERIOUS and REICHSMAN react in surprise.
IMPERIOUS:
The Well of the Furies...
THE MENDER:
Indeed. What you have seen is an Ending. The potential end of that world. They will fight bravely. They will fight to the last. But still...they will die. And what they failed to stop will spread like a cancer until it threatens you as well.
REICHSMAN:
I would like to see them try to defeat me.
THE MENDER:
Yes. You are most powerful. But you draw your strength from something....else. Something more than yourself. And so too will these have to, should they hope to survive. Some might have risen of their own accord...but I believe that sometimes Destiny...must be given a helping hand.
IMPERIOUS looks at THE MENDER suspiciously.
IMPERIOUS:
Your words sound helpful, but how do we know you can be trusted? My lands have already been beset once by those aided by men who wield the sorcery of these crystals.
THE MENDER nods.
MENDER:
Indeed...but I am not like them. Mender Silos seeks to contain this problem by attacking the root. Preventing the Coming Storm before it ever comes to pass. But I...I have a different plan. This....Ending, this Omega....is but one possibility. One I will avert, with your assistance. The power of the gods could defeat this threat, but it is too few, and too scattered. That must change.
THE MENDER turns to both of them, cloak billowing.
MENDER:
I am Mender Ramiel, and I will bring the power of Creation itself to the defense of this world. And if Silos fails, even the Coming Storm itself will quail before the power of what I am about to unleash.
[b][i]Lightning flashes about the broken citadel as the HYDRA growl and moan, the waves thrashing about the artificial island. IMPERIOUS looks wary while REICHSMAN looks intrigued by RAMIEL's statement. MENDER RAMIEL turns towards the interior of the citadel, his cloaked form outlined by the massive CENTRAL PILLAR and its burning contents.[/i][/b]
MENDER RAMIEL:
It is time....yes...time for a new Age of Gods. So come, both of you. We have much to do.
FADE TO BLACK
CITY OF HEROES ISSUE 19: INCARNATES
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."
Lightning crackles across a dingy, red-clouded sky as the sea beneath and the ravaged earth below are painted in the colors of dry blood. Enormous green tentacles wave back and forth next to a jagged line of gold that looks bronze in the polluted light. It points forward towards a small island that is hauntingly familiar. A broken shell of Orouboros lies floating amid the blood-stained sky. The great cathedral windows are shattered, the delicate golden sundial strand is long since wripped asunder from its surface. Burning trees provide the crooked, but not yet sinking, isle with a modicum of light.
Imperious is highlighted in the flames as he walks among the trees towards the central citadel, frowning as he recognizes a man both like and utterly unlike him coming from the opposite direction. The features of the red-clad Reichsman twist in distaste as he takes in the other man.
REICHSMAN:
Were you the one that brought me here? Return me to my own reality, and perhaps I shall let you live despite your impudence.
IMPERIOUS:
It was not I, but regardless, you would not find a mere pup to grovel at your boots should you try, dog.
REICHSMAN:
You dare-?!
VOICE:
Enough.
Both turn to the shape of a featureless brown cloak sweeping across the still somehow immaculate marble of the floor, exiting the citadel proper. The hood is drawn up high, obscuring the figure's features, but a gleaming emblem of gold in the shape of a golden snake eating its own tail, the symbol of the Ouroboros Menders, sits at clasped at the left shoulder, holding the collar closed.
REICHSMAN:
So you were the one that brought us here. Answer quickly, before I tear you limb from limb.
MENDER:
I was. I have brought you here for a purpose.
REICHSMAN:
No one summons me.
MENDER:
We Menders may have all the time in the world, but that does not mean I must bear your pointless bravado and empty threats, Reichsman. Behold the reason you have been brought here.
A small octahedron floats out from the depths of the cloak, hovering above one of the cracked PILLARS OF ICE AND FLAME, before it expands and contracts, flaring into a gigantic multifaceted fractal prism, the center of which slowly expands to show the scene of the IMPERIAL DEFENSE FORCE ravaging PARAGON CITY before moving further outward, slowly overwhelming all in their path. REICHSMAN whirls towards THE MENDER.
REICHSMAN:
You deprive my men of my leadership to allow this...this usurpation to happen?!
THE MENDER:
No. I seek to prevent it.
IMPERIOUS looks at the figure with narrowed eyes, before contemplating the view before him.
IMPERIOUS:
These were the people who rescued my lands from Romulus. Yet now it is they who lie broken...defeated. How do we defeat such a foe who could triumph over even them in their very homes of power?
MENDER:
By changing what has been into what may be.
THE MENDER walks towards the image, which shifts as he approaches, showing a delicate piece of masonry with a stream of what appears to be liquid gold dripping down it. Both IMPERIOUS and REICHSMAN react in surprise.
IMPERIOUS:
The Well of the Furies...
THE MENDER:
Indeed. What you have seen is an Ending. The potential end of that world. They will fight bravely. They will fight to the last. But still...they will die. And what they failed to stop will spread like a cancer until it threatens you as well.
REICHSMAN:
I would like to see them try to defeat me.
THE MENDER:
Yes. You are most powerful. But you draw your strength from something....else. Something more than yourself. And so too will these have to, should they hope to survive. Some might have risen of their own accord...but I believe that sometimes Destiny...must be given a helping hand.
IMPERIOUS looks at THE MENDER suspiciously.
IMPERIOUS:
Your words sound helpful, but how do we know you can be trusted? My lands have already been beset once by those aided by men who wield the sorcery of these crystals.
THE MENDER nods.
MENDER:
Indeed...but I am not like them. Mender Silos seeks to contain this problem by attacking the root. Preventing the Coming Storm before it ever comes to pass. But I...I have a different plan. This....Ending, this Omega....is but one possibility. One I will avert, with your assistance. The power of the gods could defeat this threat, but it is too few, and too scattered. That must change.
THE MENDER turns to both of them, cloak billowing.
MENDER:
I am Mender Ramiel, and I will bring the power of Creation itself to the defense of this world. And if Silos fails, even the Coming Storm itself will quail before the power of what I am about to unleash.
[b][i]Lightning flashes about the broken citadel as the HYDRA growl and moan, the waves thrashing about the artificial island. IMPERIOUS looks wary while REICHSMAN looks intrigued by RAMIEL's statement. MENDER RAMIEL turns towards the interior of the citadel, his cloaked form outlined by the massive CENTRAL PILLAR and its burning contents.[/i][/b]
MENDER RAMIEL:
It is time....yes...time for a new Age of Gods. So come, both of you. We have much to do.
FADE TO BLACK
CITY OF HEROES ISSUE 19: INCARNATES
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."