Joker Quest - Episode 148

>Would we be in range to attack Alura if we healed our remaining arm?
Problem is our leg is damaged. If we fire at her, she'll be able to take us out easily.
I'd like to use the Lachryma to repair our leg instead.
Sorry, but what's Haze doing here? Offering to use the syringe on us, right?

We still have the remaining Fusion Annihilator charging, right?

"Don't bother. Roll me over and help me brace myself."
If there's some Lachryma in the vicinity, use Draw Forth. Aim the FA at Alura and send a Dirac Message to Thief and tell him to distract her for a few seconds. Once we're at six charges, tell him to move out of the way and shoot.

>Go away for a few threads
>Come back
>Everyone is screwed

Oh JQ.

(Yes, he's offering to inject you with combat drugs.)

>If we fire at her, she'll be able to take us out easily.
Yeah, but Rubicante has an ace up its sleeve.

However, an entropic shot after healing with Lachryma from 35% HP would likely lead to corruption.

So yeah, we need to regain our mobility.
Our left arm is Chagan. Does it still work?

So, take the drug and heal the leg?
Drugs don't count as encroachment, do they?

OP, would it be able to use Draw Forth to heal our leg, and attack in the same round?

(No, but there can be severe side-effects.)

(Yes.)

(Yes. Until your leg is repaired, your mobility is greatly reduced.)

If we do this, we could try to build Over_Armor from lachryma before firing, because we are stationary.

Costs 25% Cobalt Booster, unfortunately.

Over_Armor uses 25% Booster, so afraid not.

(My apologies, I should've been more clear: It was disrupted when your other arm exploded. There was no misfire, however.)

Hey, can we give our radar away?
We cannot use it anyway, due to having used Terrorsight.

Maybe one of the others can use it to good effect.

Also, don't forget that Daegal is in a problematic situation. If we intend to use more than one or two rounds to kill Alura, we need to safe him.

So it seems like we're going to have to heal our leg, accept Haze's drugs, then start running. We don't have enough resources to attack this turn, unless I've missed something.
No, it's been integrated into our armour for a while now.

>It was disrupted when your other arm exploded
Was it?
>The Fusion Annihilator on your remaining arm continues to cycle, serenely ignorant of the cataclysm you've suffered - The echoes of the blast transcending all sound.

Sounds like we're taking a quick sippy from Haze then?

(Yes, you have three charges left on that arm. You didn't get the chance to fire at Alura, due to the explosion.)

So we cannot use any heavy Meter stuff.

The TAU gun is one of our more powerful base weapons.
We also have Chagan.
How about regenerating our arm, firing the right TAU with Booster assistance and the left Chagan in grenade mode with Concussion grenades to suppress Alura?
Then again, we need Meter, so maybe the Void Grenades are better for this.

I guess this means we should just heal the leg, take the drugs, and use the Fusion Annihilator.
And in the following rounds, i think we should help the thief while using Rook's sword (if it's not broken), and built meter with it.

I don't think we have the time to help Daegal out first. I think we should focus on killing Alura as fast as possible before we can help him out, but feel free to tell me i'f i'm wrong on this point.

So we can just continue charging with our remaining Meter/Booster?

(Yes, though you can't use that arm for other weapons while holding the charge.)

I'll second this. Would be nice to be able to free Daegal, but I don't think we'll have a chance to for a while.

So plan artillery is a go, then.

Now we just need to decide if we want to use agility or complement ourselves with another gun.

So, guys, what should we do?

Alura is thankfully occupied by the Thief.

...Does Haze still have his arms? We could give him Rubicante and Cagnazzo to add at least *something* instead of having him waste his turn.

(Haze has one arm remaining.)

>>/qst/

I don't think Haze is really in a state to fight at this point.

No point making any further plans, we'll have to see what happens next turn.

>...Does Haze still have his arms? We could give him Rubicante and Cagnazzo to add at least *something* instead of having him waste his turn.
Only has one arm, though I guess we could give him OMEN and tell him to go free Daegal.

That's a good idea. The evasion bonus will help him here.

However, if Omen gives evasion while sheathed, I'd give him the Sinistral instead, because evasionj would really fucking help while we are playing one-armed artillery.

On second thought, our HP is kinda tied to the Sinistral, so that would actually be a really dumb idea, even though the Sinistral also has its elemental adaption property, which would help in saving Daegal from electricity-based DoT.

Fuck, I forgot we had the sword. I should start keeping notes.
But no, don't give it to him. The evasion bonus is too useful, even if won't be using it right now.

>finally catch a JQ thread
>have no idea how to get out of this fucking mess

Okay, yeah, keep the sword, maybe give Rook one of the pistols next turn. In any case, just load up on more FA charges while Haze juices us up.

> "Don't bother. Roll me over and help me brace myself."

Your words are a tortured buzz - Your speakers must've been damaged by the blast. Your vision is bisected, the optics on one side dead, warnings flaring across your HUD. Structural damage - three cracked vertebrae, from Bell Zephyr's lash; cuirass pounded to ruin, rebuilt, shattered again by Rust Kaiser's fists...

Haze flinches, when you bat his hand away. The Fusion Annihilator seethes, charging elements humming as cold blue light fumes from the barrel - CHAGAN's brass frame whirring, discs shifting, holding that terrible power in check.

Four charges, now.

"Your leg-"

With a ragged gasp, Haze hauls at you - Awkwardly, crablike, his remaining arm pulling, he manages to pull you to your feet-

Not enough. Your left hand slams down against the ground - the muzzle of the Fusion Annihilator braced against the Lachryma-slick surface, like a crutch. Tiny fires ignite, smoldering, dancing...The Athame in your chest throbbing, a phantom pain hollow and distant at once-

There is a chittering at the corners of your mind. Scratchy voices, half-cohered, the voice of the burning wind across the black sands. The *hiss* of acid, as it laps at your limbs again and again-

You open your mind. You let it in.

It is worse than you could possibly have imagined.

(Continued)

He really can't contribute in any way to the fight and also doesn't have the weapons to free Daegal. Either we give him something or ask him to try and retrieve the Condemner (which should be lying around somewhere) and use that. And I'm pretty sure he'll die while trying to do the latter.

Yeah, he kinda needs the precognition and Omen won't do anything in our hands while no in active use, anyway.

There is a monstrous sound. The pool of Lachryma, underfoot, begins to tremble. Tiny peaks and dips, bubbling, expanding. The peaks become mountains, the dips, valleys - Rushing around you, reacting, popping and bubbling around your knees. You feel a keening, a sharp need, surging through the polluted air-

"What-" Haze stammers. He lets go, abruptly - Stumbling back, his remaining hand held up in a warding gesture...

-But you don't need him any more.

Streamers of viscous blackness *twist* to you. The sticky, foetid stuff moves with a formless malevolence, as it flows across your form - But instead of dropping down, it flows *forward*, in defiance of all gravity, thinning tendrils sinking into the ragged stump of your right arm, coiling outwards; it reweaves the memory of endosteel bone, myomer musculature, sinking into the ruptured mechanisms of your leg-

And then there is pain.

The Lachryma does not echo the web of your armor's artificial nervous system - the crystalline nerves that turn thought-impulses into action. It *is* your nervous system, veins and arteries and reeking agony where fleshmetal squirms and writhes over severed synapses, the link sending barbed lightning crawling up your spine. Your leg, your arm - they *burn*, as if needles have been driven into the meat of your form, lancing again and again into your flesh.

You feel them by what they cut away.

(Continued)

Your right hand - fingers curling into talons - wrenches around OMEN's grasp, as you fling it at Haze. It thuds into his chest, as he stumbles back - Catching it before it falls, the tachyon blade sparking to reluctant life in his grasp-

Haze.

Take the sword.

Your command crackles across the Dirac channel. The urgency in it impels his limbs into motion, even before the words register - He is staggering, slipping across the churning black oil, across that treacherous and shifting surface, forcing his legs to carry him forward where Kazuya hangs-

Or perhaps he's just trying to get away from you.

And before you-

There is fire. There is dry lightning, tearing the air. There are great brambles, reaching out like the thrashing branches of winter trees. Alura is a puppet on her own strings, monstrous vines and roots spilling out from her - they clutch at the distant ceiling, growing from the seething blackness all around, the emerald glass of her tattered wings slicing through space in flares of distant light. She is the roiling core of her own personal storm, her figure nearly lost within the swirling tangle of vines - From the waist down, where her legs should be, there is only a great roiling mass of Lachryma, holding her aloft; moaning mouths opening with the churning torrent, the oozing stuff cascading outwards in an endless reverse geyser.

The Thief seems so small, as she towers above him - Lifted out of reach of the Fatal Abyss, her laughter cutting the air like a knife. There's something demented in her laughter, something mad, her cable-hair streaming in the coruscating ball of seething lightnings that surround her-

Approaching her is like facing down a typhoon. An arctic blizzard. There is no coherence to her form any longer. No sanity.

(Continued)

"Die."

D̴i̞̻e͏͕̯̘̪̱ͅ.͉͙̖͖̼͝

D͏̵͢҉͖̜̝̣̜I̸̞̠͔̯̝̜̕͜͢E̯̯̯̜̩͜͟

Akira is a blur. Molten, lumpen tentacles - half-liquid, half-solid - reach out, flapping and snaking, from the gigantic mass. The Fatal Abyss snicker-snacks, the black blade stained blacker with oil. His weirdly jointed legs propel him through the roots of the whipping branches, pressurised black ichor squirting out of the severed stumps with such force that it spatters the ceiling. He makes each dripping worm-limb a platform to launch himself closer to Alura, leaping, springing, with the impossible speed of a man on fire...

He swings-

One of Alura's wings moves. A green flare, faster than the eye can follow. The Fatal Abyss's edge groans, as it bites into the pane of forever glass, humming with the contrasting notes of conflicting energies. For a moment, the Thief hangs in the air, as his blade is forced back, back towards himself-

Alura's hand comes up. Schematic lines sketch themselves into existence. An elegant shape forms, cradled in her arms - a long, slender staff, all twisted wood and flowing lines. A flick of her wrist, and it whispers as it connects with him - Not hard, without force, like a child's toy...

"Uuuurrrghhh-"

(Continued)

>Alura's hand comes up. Schematic lines sketch themselves into existence.
Bitch.

He judders, a living conduit. Green and white power crackles down it's length, and rips through him. Terrible rents erupt, beneath the yellowing bone of the Thief's form - verdant force follows, moss bulging from the wounds. There are spores, blossoming into flesh-eating phages; he slams to the ground, pinned in place by the shimmering emerald field, as the wild growth eats him apart from within.

"-That's right." Alura's voice hisses with spite, a cracked note. "That's all you are. Refuse."

A spastic tremble courses through her form. "Look at you - *Look* at you, silencer. Lower than a *dog*. You can't even die right-"

The Thief never screams, as your Dirac message reaches him. He merely stares, muscles squirming with silent force, heels digging in the ground as the Fatal Abyss bites into his own chest, a thin, welling line...

You raise the Fusion Annhilator to your shoulder. Swiftly, yet without haste, as if you have all the time in the world. Alura's vast form is speared on your crosshairs, the chime of a target lock thrilling across your damaged sensors.

You fire.

Four charges.

A tiny dot of the purest light - unutterably bright - unfurls from the muzzle. It becomes a thin line, a line connecting you to Alura. An astral tracer, linking all that is to all that will be. It grows bigger, expanding - brighter and longer and *closer*. False light is banished by true light, as hungry sunfire sears across the distance - It is like a flashlight of annihilation, incandescently bright; the actinic light of an unveiled star, engulfed by the solar glory of a new sun.

(Continued)

"-No-"

A tiny sound, from Alura's lips. It is a denial of all you are; the shimmering emerald wings of her barrier moves with her shifting focus. Faster than thought, they align - Overlapping, layered, wrenching away from the Thief, forming an intricate crystalline structure that sings of it's own perfection. All of this in a moment - In the span of a second before the Fusion Annihlator's blast reaches her.

A dozen of the Memory Towers shatter. The air fills with a storm of glass. Each fragment reflects the blaze of light, back and back - and back - into the far distance. Your HUD's optics cut out, but the long trail left by the burning point shines in your vision - a corona of discharging energies hissing up from the Fusion Annihilator's vents, coiling around your arm-

It hits Alura like a physical force. The torrential cascade of energy sets the floor on fire, the ocean of Lachryma becoming a sea of dancing flame. Leaping flame, tongue of blue fire dancing and crackling with a will - Her staff raised before her, like a desperate invocation of protection - pushed *back*, by the fury of white light and heat. The effect is huge, the explosion monstrous. Her layered barrier holds, holds...

The first *crack* is a high, ringing note, audible over the howling shriek of the annihilator's discharge. Sick green light flares, as her shield splinters; Then the next, eaten away by the all-consuming radiance. Her hand scratches out a desperate symbol-

And the Annihilator's blast tunnels through the vast mound of Lachryma, blowing into swirling black mass like a rocket into a balloon. Fiery rain patters down, burning blue droplets that flash into steam, joining the foul mist that swirls around the chamber, gusting in an invisible wind.

(Continued)

Fuck yeah.
Finally doing some damage.
And the Thief is there to capitalize on her temporary weakness.

And all the while Daegal, Haze and Rook can regroup.

The light fades. The ache in your limbs dies down, as the beginnings of armor sketches themselves into existence over the vile, rippling flesh molded to your systems. The Fusion Annihilator whirrs serenely, coolant lines pulsing as it rotates, vents glowing redly with death-heat.

There is a beat. Another.

"Why-?"

She's survived, as you knew she would. In the heartbeat before the light of oblivion reached her - A faint sense-memory of her body unravelling, the ground irising open to swallow her up, to discharge her, scorched and burnt, her dress charred to her form. She still clutches her staff, but leans on it for support; Her mandala reduced to twin petals of emerald glass, humming fractiously as they orbit her.

"Why won't you *die*, Joker-?"

Alura's hand curls into a claw, nails raking the air like talons.

There is a new note in it, now.

Fear.

"All of you - *All of you* - Ruining *everything* - Why can't you understand...?"

Quicksilver tears trickle down her cheeks, fuming in the heat, bleeding from beneath her reveller's mask. Strange, that the form she's donned can cry.

The Thief's hand - His left hand - digs into the ground. Narrow lines scrape across the cracked tiles, as he hauls himself to his feet. He makes no sound, the Fatal Abyss muttering wordlessly to itself - But his hand clamps on your shoulder, a wordless gesture of affirmation, as he steadies himself, embers flickering in the pits of his skull.

His focus is solely on Alura, but - Just for a moment - he nods.

"I control - I *control* - Me, *mine*-"

HP: 71.2%
COBALT BOOSTER: 21%
ASSAULT SHROUD: 12%
METER: 19%
ENCROACHMENT: 46%

YOU HAVE CONTROL

"Said the sadistic psychopath who tortures people for fun.
Your mind is as ugly as your body.
You are rotten to the very core."

Ok, so apparently her wings are linked to her status. We have all limbs back, but only around 30% effective HP available.

If we get attacked, we need to use the Booster's defense boost. Anything that could take us below our encroachment threshold is too dangerous.

Other than that, this sounds like an opportunity for murdering Alura with burst fire.
We just need to occupy her while Akira finishes her off.

Grab Rubicante and Cagnazzo and start shooting. Use Booster to increase our speed if necessary. Try to aim for the petals and make sure too coordinate with Thief.

I say we load Chernobog to Chagan, and lay on the heat.

And don't forget abruption jets for escapes if necessary.

After drawing aggro, do and add the TAU to the other arm.

I miss the interceptors

Kaiser wasted Chernobog last time, so I'm not sure if we can use it right now.

> "Said the sadistic psychopath who tortures people for fun."

> "Your mind is as ugly as your body."

For that is your nature, Alura. Ugly, inside and out.

> "You are rotten to the very core."

CHAGAN whirrs as it reconfigures - Acid-etched kill markers smoldering with coruscating green fire, as brass filaments unspool. Vedigris spreads across your arm, like corrosion in fast forward...But the snaking, spiralling lines, the crazed orb that flickers with lightless sparks, brings power, not decay. The cables find the armored forearm sheath of your Plasma Vulcans - Power linkages connecting, the hum echoing in your ears as the weapon's vast bulk sketches itself into existence. Volt textures arch, in lines of lightning - Inner chamber pressure building in the charging cylinders, the grotesque tangle of machinery resolving itself into a singular shape...

Autoreactive talons gouge into the ground, as you take up a firing stance. CHERNOBORG's multi-barreled monstrosity begins to spin up, the plasma chaingun's bulk wedged against your hip - metal grinding, neon lights pulsing along the barrel as fusion cells throb with building energies, burning gas flickering around the rotating barrels...

The first searing beams erupt across the distance, javelins of light shredding the air. Each ray is there, then gone, fizzing with internal fury; the ionization of the air altering, creating an astral pathway for plasma destruction to howl across.

Every weapon has a soul. CHERNOBORG's is all fury, as the terrible weapon ululates - a contra tempo, the high fizzing shriek of plasma wedded to the flicker-flash roar of the barrels-

(Continued)

I miss the Carnifex.

I miss Mio

>missing worst girl

Fite me irl not the Red World

A gasp of effort, a dimming of her eyes-

Something spews from Alura's free hand. It *spreads* outwards from a single point - A pattern, unfolding itself again and again, a complex geometric form. The shape self-repeats, fills the air with copies of itself at an exponential rate. The interlocking shapes, hundreds of them, rush towards you - Fitted tightly together, a stinking serpent of eye-searing runes, gnashing and grinding against itself as it rushes towards you, spreading across the intervening distance like circuits across a board-

CHERNOBORG tears into it. Your shots rip into the shape's substance, splintering them into a thousand shivering pieces - it has the texture of burned bone, a vile *smell* that impresses itself upon your mind, a sense-illusion of moaning, chattering voices as it grows, grows, grows-

The Thief lunges. His legs coil beneath him, and he kicks off. The Fatal Abyss mutters as it rushes through the air, becoming a blurred figure-eight, an arc of black lightning in his fists-

And then a new trajectory enters his arc, and he leaps back, animal-swift. A great spike erupts from the ground, just before him - a giant thorn growing outwards, cruelly barbed, the needle-point punching into the ceiling as brambles snake out from the impact zone-

Traps. Snares. In the walls, in the floor.

(Continued)

But it's more fun in the red Chuuniscape.

It slows him for just long enough. Electricity spits and crackles from twenty yards away, Alura's form silhouetted in the blazing afterglow - It arcs, and he angles his blade to catch the forking arcs of pure, dazzling hatred that claws towards him-

It isn't enough. The blistering energies rip into him, and the shock blasts him backwards to smash again a Memory Tower. He's on his feet again in moments - But the twisted vines are clawing out for him, sizzling with wailing charge of their own, and the Thief wheels to carve his way free, driven backwards across the cracked ground-

The fractal shape is growing faster than you can destroy it. CHERNOBORG dissolves - feedback buzzes across your mind, raking across your nerves as Alura turns to face you, her eyes flaring with the color out of space-

The vast construct of metal tears across the distance. It rips through the pillars, bringing them down with a breathless thunder of collapsing girders, fist-sized stones bounding out as the blind wave devours everything in the way.

Down-

Your Abruption Jets flare, the static burst flinging you out of reach. The vile, sickly light swells outwards from Alura; It buzzes in the back of your mind, a radiance that erases mass - the ground is scoured away, as if by a century of erosion, boiling winds rushing into the intervening space. The thunderclap concussion batters you, sends you skidding back-

Too slow. Too unwieldy. RUBICANTE and CAGANZZO blur into your hands, your draw as fast as ever. Each howling shots from RUBICANTE is matched by the stinging blue tracers from CAGANZZO, cold strength stinging your limbs as you sprint between the Memory Towers, muzzleflash lighting your form as you hammer rounds at Alura.

(Continued)

>cold strength stinging your limbs as you sprint between the Memory Towers, muzzleflash lighting your form as you hammer rounds at Alura.
Man, this feels nostalgic.
Like back when we used our Vulcans while kiting people on foot.

It's sad how Chernobog has such incredible introductions and yet it got immediately countered both times it was used.

That's a hell of a long time ago.

Faster than thought, her barrier is in the way. Shifting, changing configurations - CAGNAZZO's rounds splinter to nothing against the wings of forever glass, the crystalline barrier flaring beneath your shooting irons. Her form trembles with stark tension, as she whirls to face you, the spun wire of her hair swirling around her like a shroud-

She has more power than you can imagine.

And yet-

The ground trembles. It shimmers - flecks and spray rising to knee-height, blurring beneath your feet. It catches you, mid-stride - You stagger, as space warps; caught by the effect, ripped, torn, abraded, you tumble as the ground whips past. It churns relentlessly, like a great engine - Friction warnings buzz on your HUD as your guns whip away, your gauntlets clawing at the ever-shifting ground, trying to wrench yourself to your feet as your Assault Shroud shreds on contact...

-But when she's focused on you, Alura has forgotten the Thief.

The Fatal Abyss rips. The pitch-black sword skids along a pane of forever glass, too close to dodge - carving down with awful finality, mowing towards the fragile figure...

And stops, locked immobile by a desperate surge of will.

Held in mid-swung, the sword trembles, blistered by waves of coiling force. The air pulses with the guttural throb of invisible power: Colored bursts of energy writhing and crackling in unholy motion, the Thief's lurching form coming to an frozen halt-

The Memory Towers sway, as their foundations begin to warp and buckle, the murky air seething with force-

The ground lurches one last time, and goes still beneath you. Shaking with effort, the Thief takes a single slow step forward - the point of the Fatal Abyss inching closer, closer to Alura's throat. She makes a fist - the invisible pressure redoubling, like the tightening of a vise, her wings bleeding light into the air around her...

HP: 62.1%
COBALT BOOSTER: 8%
ASSAULT SHROUD: 1%
METER: 32%
ENCROACHMENT: 31%

YOU HAVE CONTROL

(It's a high-risk, high-reward weapon. Slow, unwieldy, requires time to spin up and renders you nearly motionless, but it combines an extremely high fire rate with extremely high damage.

Generally, most of CHAGAN's abilities skew the risk-reward ratio away from the relatively 'balanced' ratio of Joker's normal weapons. For instance, the flamethrower allows for tremendous damage - with a corrosive effect - in return for the risk of a catastrophic explosion.)

Can we fire the annihilator again?

Use emulated Fusion Annihilators.
Use the single-fire mode and Booster (if we've got enough for this) to make the first shot as quick as possible.
This should draw her attention.

Then follow up by kiting her again. Wouldn't want to stay in the line of fire.

Which weapon should we kite her with?

Let's go for a cobalt boosted Nova Cannon shot.
Maybe it'll distract Alura long enough for the Thief to penetrate her throat.

Huh, did Rubicante miss her entirely?

We need to split her attention. Send a railgun round towards her wings while start charging another FA. If the former doesn't distract her enough for Thief to land a hit then don't bother waiting and shoot one charge. If it does, get at least three charges before shooting. Grab R&C again after that and start kiting again. Kazuya should join the fray soon enough and then either he or Joker will be able to help Akira in close combat with OMEN.

No, lets not do that. Instead, lets emulate the Nova Cannon. Open both fucking barrels on her while using the Abjuration Jets to get right down her fucking throat.

We hit her with the two Nova Cannon shots and then fist her with our gauntlet.

Hmmm. Alright. Though i think we should aim for those wings then.

I'd say we actually aim not at Alura, but next to her. To blow her into the Thief's sword and so its less likely he'll get hurt.

>railgun
Oh shit, we got enough charge for that.

OP, can we get enough range for full power of the railgun shot in the time that we have available to save Akira?

So we both attack her in melee?
I though keeping at range to draw her aggro would be smarter.

Fisting Alura sounds appealing, but not very smart.
Plus, the Tau guns have slow fire. Then again, she's distracted, so maybe we can fire into a hole in her defense.
But that means Thief would be more exposed to her.

>Kazuya, kendo master, with Omen

No, we attack from range to distract her from the Thief, he'll nearly kill her but be blown away but then WE'LL be right on her and slave the Fist straight through her fucking skull.

Getting closer IS more dangerous but realistically, Alura has always been a range girl and she has so many shields and so much fire power that dodging around the place will just extend this fight. We have to go for the throat.

This sounds like the best plan.

Well, the essence of all of these plans is the same:
Alpha strike to draw aggro, then try not to die.

>OP, can we get enough range for full power of the railgun shot in the time that we have available to save Akira?

I want to know this first before i make a discission.

(No. You're not at maximum range - Firing from where you are.

However, if you used an action to back away, you'll be able to withdraw to maximum range and fire a single shot. Unfortunately, your Abruption Jets are still recharging.

I'll note that the Railgun isn't substantially crippled when it's fired at less-than-optimum range. It just does a lot more damage at long distances.)

Isn't that usually Plan B?
We all know Plan A is "More Dakka to infinity", hell our enemies know that.

So maybe just maybe Alura won't expect us getting in her face and blowing our load

I honestly think that we should go for the nova cannons then. If those work, we fist her, if it doesn't we retreat the optimal range for a railgun shot next round. What say you guys?

Normally our approach is to probe the enemy, then go in like a honey badger.
This time we are doing an MMO-like boss raid with periodic retreats.

>What say you guys?
I hope you are aware that we are currently at 20% HP.
The indirect hit just now took off 10%.

We need our encroachment to fade before we commit.

>So maybe just maybe Alura won't expect us getting in her face and blowing our load
But that's what Joker does all the time. One the things Joker regularly does is shoot a bunch of shit at an enemy to figure out his/her gimmick before rushing in with the Crisis Arm and then retreating to shoot more dakka.

(I assume you're not using the Entropic Shot, given your HP.)

Enough.

You lever yourself to your feet. The Vector Trap swells, disgorging the Nova Cannon - Tiny gravimetric suspensors humming to life, as the blunt ingot of the weapon encases your hand. The Emulator Module pulses, at the base of your spine; A second thunderclap sounding, seething lines jagging and arching - A perfect mirror-image of the great weapon.

Each weapon is nearly as large as your torso. They rack, as you level both of them with singular intent-

Alura sees the danger, as the twin Tau Guns seethe with the light of dead suns. Antimatter particles gather in the condensers, as you stride forward. Each step is slow, lumbering, purposeful - She makes a choked sound, a bark of straining effort-

-And hurls the Thief aside.

Even from here, you can feel the pulse of force. The concussive slap of it *ripples*, and it blasts Akira from his feet as if struck by a grenade. Shredded chaff from his coat scatters from the air, his very bones splintering - great cracks scuttling across his form, as if struck by an invisible hammer.

It flings him back a dozen meters. He hits the mirrored walls of the chamber with a brittle sound, a sound that means snapping bones-

And at last, the Thief makes a sound.

Gore - Clotted gore - spews from the perpetual grin of his skull. It is human, agonized, as the black and vile fluid spatters the ground; there are things that writhe within it, and it steams where it hits. His hand spasms open, and the Fatal Abyss lands on the uneven tiles with *clang*. It smolders, as if fresh from the forge-

(Continued)

Oh lord did she kill him?

And suddenly, the figure of lurching death - the sword-wielding reaper - is merely Akira once more. It is as if a haze has lifted from him, like a shroud; the vision of bones and jagged spite peeling away, leaving the Thief sprawled on the ground, face-down. Lachryma weeps from the sockets of his eyes, like blood - A low, agonized exhalation wrenching from his speakers, the spent matter bleeding from the ruin of his leg, melting away from his arm like decay in fast-forward.

You intuit this, in the span of a second - Dimly, like the echo of someone else's war. For as the Thief writhes on the ground, broken-

Target and weapon become one.

You fire. Both Nova Cannons tremble in your grasp - They *recoil*, violently, the gravimetric suspensors whirring, charging coils dimming as they unload. The targeting lasers sizzle across the distance; In the fraction of a second, in less time than it takes to form the words, Alura's shields are interposed. Each laser splinters into a prismatic spray, upon contact...

And then the vast antimatter rounds, twin distortions, invisibly fast, blur across the distance. Fired together, the bow-wave of the shot is a blur of distorted motion, flickering at the very edge of vision-

Nothing happens. You hear Alura's low gasp, as she flinches in anticipation of impact - There is something impossibly human about the way she moves, the way she reacts. As if she has yet to forget herself. Through the panes of forever glass, you see her lips move - A taunt, perhaps. A plea.

Her layered shields sing. The sound is beautiful, like chiming bells.

A beat.

(Continued)

>A beat.
BRACE FOR IMPACT

I hope to god my plan didn't fail and the Nova Gun WORKS.

It all depends on the rolls.
It just sucks that our rolls are so shitty most of the time.

There is a note. High, discordant. A flaw in the symphony.

The construct shivers. It fractures. Flaws spiderweb across the surface, faster, faster-

"-No."

Your hands unclench. Forgotten, the Nova Cannons *thump* against the ground. One is swallowed up by the crimson whirl of the Vector Trap - the other unravels, like a dream upon awakening, as your right hand curls into a fist. Concentric circles flicker into existence on your HUD: The Crisis Arm's knuckles cising with charge, tiny flecks of lightning leaping from spine to spine.

"Joker-"

Her shadow stretches out before her - A ripple of distortion lashes out, vicing down around you, fighting to seize you and hold you in place. Invisible hands tear at you - They rip plates of armor from your shoulders, splinter the green gem of the Argus Sensor to uselessness. Radiant filth spills out from the eyeslits of Alura's mask, spearing from her warding palm as her staff crackles with gauss lightning-

Cold power stings through your form, and you bury your fist in the shield's heart.

It shatters. The crystalline construct - A blossom, a crest, a eye-twisting pattern - cracks and breaks with the sound of smashing glass. Sharp chips of shield segment fly into the air - A flaying hail of broken glass, slicing new scars into your battered helm, an inch-long spine embedding itself into your chest, mere inches from the dully flickering orb of the Cobalt Booster. It comes crashing down around you, with the music of the apocalypse - aural pandemonium, a series of cascading failures spewing shards in every direction at once-

One of the Hyades - Asteriae - had the power to bend space, to fold it upon itself. Another, Maia, could make light and time solid. As she gazed down upon the world she would never see, she held folded light in her hands - an exquisite, fractal blossom - before she released it, petals of radiance drifting in the solar winds.

> "How small we all are."

(Continued)

When the Crisis Arm hits, there is the shriek of distorted space. Of dimensions collapsing upon themselves. An impossibility made manifest, all of that gathered force released at once.

-A flash, the low beginnings of a monstrous noise-

The impossible light of zero-point energy, accessed from the spaces between virtual particles-

Where it touches out - the shafts of light radiate through your armor. What they touch is displaced, disintegrated; pinprick holes open up in your armor, in your very substance, for the rays to stream through. On your HUD, the looming absences are dark void in your form.

It is a last act of spite, from Alura. All of it directed at you, to gnaw you to nothing, to *erase* you even though it means her end.

It is what Rook has been waiting for.

(Continued)

She is so *focused*, so intent upon your destruction, she has no defense against the misshapen shape that lurches to his knees - huddled, the crippled shadow of a winged predator. The slanted slits of his raptor-pattern helm glow, with a smoldering crimson light-

-And the light stabs forth, in jagging rays of bloody plasma.

"AAAAAAAAHHHH-"

It slices through her staff. It carves across her arm, up to her shoulder. They punch ragged holes through her back, and out through her chest in extravagant exit wounds.

The light winks out-

The rush of air from the explosion is a cataclysmic collapse, the triumphant echoes ringing out to infinity. It plucks you from your feet, that invisible force slamming out in all directions. It hurls you away, like a dry leaf in a hurricane - As every Memory Towers shatters outward, in a multicoloured blizzard of crystal fragments.

Your armor shrieks as it leaves deep grooves in the onyx surface underfoot. It drags you back, back, carrying you until you slam into the wall - Held in place as much by shock pressure, *crushing* you...

When it stops, as abrupt as a gasp of pain, you peer through the trailing smoke, the ash, to see what lingers at the centre of the blast-

(Continued)

>RUST KAISER.
>BELL ZEPHYR.
>ENFER.
>INOX FANG.
>ALL UNWORTHY OF OUR HEAVEN.
>"I-"
>AND YET THE LEAST OF THEM WAS GREATER THAN YOU.
>No Calcite Arrow

I see what you did there.
Even in death and in all seriousness, he is forgotten.

The lady of the black rose. On her knees, in the rubble. Her hands are sliced by countless fragments, soot and ash streaking her skin. Her gown is in tatters, as she claws at the ruin underfoot - Searching for something, her eyes going wide as she looks down at herself-

"No," Alura breathes, and the fear is back. It eclipses everything. "No-!"

Her lips tremble, her skin paler than pale. A shiver courses through her, the knowledge of her own helplessness-

-And then she sees you.

The Memory Towers hum serenely as they rotate according to their own arcane geometry, uncaring.

"I - Please. Pazuzu - Please. I need - I need more. I need their *lives*-"

ENOUGH.

The voice is singular, as hateful as it is familiar.

It is on all channels. It is as though the Diadem itself has found a voice, and it roars.

YOU HAVE HAD YOUR FILL, ALURA.

Her eyes are very, very wide. The first sob pulses from her lips - It is fury. It is disbelief.

"You can't-"

THIS LIFE, I THINK, WILL BE YOUR LAST.

Pazuzu's voice is relentless. It is the sound of himself, as a god.

YOU ARE A POOR REPLACEMENT FOR HECATE, ALURA.

YOU COULD NEVER HAVE BEEN MORE THAN HER SHADOW.

Alura's hands rise to her face. There is a look you have never seen - A low, keening wail coaxed from her throat. Her nails rake against the perfect skin of her cheeks, leaving bloody lines.

RUST KAISER.

BELL ZEPHYR.

ENFER.

INOX FANG.

ALL UNWORTHY OF OUR HEAVEN.

"I-"

AND YET THE LEAST OF THEM WAS GREATER THAN YOU.

(Continued)