Outside of the Troll territories in Skyway, there is a particular stretch of land that even the poorest of Paragon avoid if possible. This stretch is known as
the Land of the Lost, home to the mysterious cult that had hit Paragon's homeless like wildfire. Seemingly simple homeless people with a purpose,
organization, and increasingly inhuman power to accomplish it, few outside the superhero community suspected what the Lost truly were.
Inyme knew better than anyone.
Which was why she was here, really. She'd encountered a few in the Hollows, but her contacts had led her to this entrenched bastion of the Lost. She needed
a test subject of sufficient power. She didn't have to look far.
"And behold, our patience has been rewarded!" the barely human looking Anathema standing before his assembled subjects boomed. "So long we have
preached! So long we have waited! So long we have kept faith that the new age would come and that we would be rewarded! Now that time has come! Now OUR time
has come! The great masters stretch forth their hand from beyond the sky! Their great chariots ride across the stars, bringing divine retribution upon those
who would oppose the change! The heroes, the others...they think they are safe! They do not know how many we are! How strong we are! We are the many! The voice
of metamorphosis! Our power will give this land to the great masters, and the Change will bring new life to a new age! The new age will come!"
Choruses of "the new age!" and "the change will come!" echoed around his followers as Inyme strode up. "Indeed. The new age will come.
But you won't be here to witness it," she said.
The Anathema's face contorted in anger. "Yet another hero who opposes the change and blasphemes the word of the great masters! Kill her!"
Inyme barely moved as the mob of homeless thugs headed at her. One barely got five steps forward before he was bowled over by an unseen force. A second gripped
at his head while a third suddenly slowed and stopped, drool dripping from his face as his eyes dropped. One got close enough to draw a fireman's axe
before flying away from Inyme like the first, and the charge began to show signs of faltering. A Scrounger dropped to the ground, clutching at his head in
agony as Inyme waded into the melee, mental powers clawing minds and sending Lost flying every which way. Breathing heavily, she turned to face the Anathema,
now devoid of subjects as his troops were either unconcious or fled.
"You think you show strength? That your powers can oppose the Change? I have power as well, as do many of my brothers. In the grand scheme of things, you,
hero, ARE INSIGNIFICANT!" he roared as Inyme felt power build within his mind. She responded in kind, mental strength seeking to overwhelm, subvert, or
slip by. Keeping his mind concentrated on mental defense, Inyme let her power slip for a moment, before ramping it up. He looked at her in astonishment as her
power overwhelmed his, before a telekinetic burst sent him flying. He looked up in awe.
"Y-you....you are not one of the heroes....oh great master, forgive me...I did not recognize you. How may I serve you? I will recall our acolytes. We have
many here. Whatever you may require, we will give to you!"
"Die," Inyme said, getting a confused look from the mutated Lost.
"Your pardon, I do not understand...what do you mean?"
"I mean I want you, and all your kind, to die."
"Wh-what? Great master, why? What have we done? How have we failed you? Please give us another chance!"
"Another chance?" she said softly. "I didn't want to give you a first chance. You and all your kind are abominations. Desperate expenditures
of resources that should never have been created. You think you'll be rewarded for your service? You are half-things, not entirely human nor entirely of
the Rikti. You could never be accepted among us! You are an aborted plan that should never have been continued, and when we win this war, I will take great
pleasure in wiping the stain of your existence off of the Rikti's hands. Insignificant? YOU are insignificant, and offensive! So I order you, servant, DIE.
Die that you might provide some value to me," she hissed.
The Anathema stared, awed and dismayed by her anger, but unable to deny that she truly was one of the great masters. "I...what has our faith been for
then?"
"A tool by those who had less clear vision. And if you can't even end your own life, allow me to do it for you," she said, as the air between
them wavered.
****
The PPD would later find the sight and not know what to make of it. While gang violence in Paragon was considerably brutal sometimes, they'd yet to see
anything that could make an Anathema's head explode from the inside out like that. Others like it in recent history made them write down possible hints at
a purge within the Lost ranks and to keep an eye out.
****
Inyme pulled off her helmet, looking at her mirror as she did. Dark skin and hair, framing almond eyes, greeted her. She thought of her words to the Anathema
and frowned. No. She was on a mission. She was different. She would return and become Rikti again....she was sure of it. She was sure....
Unconciously, she de-armed herself and reached over to the phone. Best to continue the operation. Talking to Alice would do that. Better to ingrain herself
into the girl's life some more. For the mission.
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."
the Land of the Lost, home to the mysterious cult that had hit Paragon's homeless like wildfire. Seemingly simple homeless people with a purpose,
organization, and increasingly inhuman power to accomplish it, few outside the superhero community suspected what the Lost truly were.
Inyme knew better than anyone.
Which was why she was here, really. She'd encountered a few in the Hollows, but her contacts had led her to this entrenched bastion of the Lost. She needed
a test subject of sufficient power. She didn't have to look far.
"And behold, our patience has been rewarded!" the barely human looking Anathema standing before his assembled subjects boomed. "So long we have
preached! So long we have waited! So long we have kept faith that the new age would come and that we would be rewarded! Now that time has come! Now OUR time
has come! The great masters stretch forth their hand from beyond the sky! Their great chariots ride across the stars, bringing divine retribution upon those
who would oppose the change! The heroes, the others...they think they are safe! They do not know how many we are! How strong we are! We are the many! The voice
of metamorphosis! Our power will give this land to the great masters, and the Change will bring new life to a new age! The new age will come!"
Choruses of "the new age!" and "the change will come!" echoed around his followers as Inyme strode up. "Indeed. The new age will come.
But you won't be here to witness it," she said.
The Anathema's face contorted in anger. "Yet another hero who opposes the change and blasphemes the word of the great masters! Kill her!"
Inyme barely moved as the mob of homeless thugs headed at her. One barely got five steps forward before he was bowled over by an unseen force. A second gripped
at his head while a third suddenly slowed and stopped, drool dripping from his face as his eyes dropped. One got close enough to draw a fireman's axe
before flying away from Inyme like the first, and the charge began to show signs of faltering. A Scrounger dropped to the ground, clutching at his head in
agony as Inyme waded into the melee, mental powers clawing minds and sending Lost flying every which way. Breathing heavily, she turned to face the Anathema,
now devoid of subjects as his troops were either unconcious or fled.
"You think you show strength? That your powers can oppose the Change? I have power as well, as do many of my brothers. In the grand scheme of things, you,
hero, ARE INSIGNIFICANT!" he roared as Inyme felt power build within his mind. She responded in kind, mental strength seeking to overwhelm, subvert, or
slip by. Keeping his mind concentrated on mental defense, Inyme let her power slip for a moment, before ramping it up. He looked at her in astonishment as her
power overwhelmed his, before a telekinetic burst sent him flying. He looked up in awe.
"Y-you....you are not one of the heroes....oh great master, forgive me...I did not recognize you. How may I serve you? I will recall our acolytes. We have
many here. Whatever you may require, we will give to you!"
"Die," Inyme said, getting a confused look from the mutated Lost.
"Your pardon, I do not understand...what do you mean?"
"I mean I want you, and all your kind, to die."
"Wh-what? Great master, why? What have we done? How have we failed you? Please give us another chance!"
"Another chance?" she said softly. "I didn't want to give you a first chance. You and all your kind are abominations. Desperate expenditures
of resources that should never have been created. You think you'll be rewarded for your service? You are half-things, not entirely human nor entirely of
the Rikti. You could never be accepted among us! You are an aborted plan that should never have been continued, and when we win this war, I will take great
pleasure in wiping the stain of your existence off of the Rikti's hands. Insignificant? YOU are insignificant, and offensive! So I order you, servant, DIE.
Die that you might provide some value to me," she hissed.
The Anathema stared, awed and dismayed by her anger, but unable to deny that she truly was one of the great masters. "I...what has our faith been for
then?"
"A tool by those who had less clear vision. And if you can't even end your own life, allow me to do it for you," she said, as the air between
them wavered.
****
The PPD would later find the sight and not know what to make of it. While gang violence in Paragon was considerably brutal sometimes, they'd yet to see
anything that could make an Anathema's head explode from the inside out like that. Others like it in recent history made them write down possible hints at
a purge within the Lost ranks and to keep an eye out.
****
Inyme pulled off her helmet, looking at her mirror as she did. Dark skin and hair, framing almond eyes, greeted her. She thought of her words to the Anathema
and frowned. No. She was on a mission. She was different. She would return and become Rikti again....she was sure of it. She was sure....
Unconciously, she de-armed herself and reached over to the phone. Best to continue the operation. Talking to Alice would do that. Better to ingrain herself
into the girl's life some more. For the mission.
---
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay
waste."