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10.3.2017 - A mysterious light filled the Sea of Skies. Those who wielded great power and abilities found themselves back at square one, as if reset.


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Azmot
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Post Count : 2131
MAG : 1
The quartet faded into existence in the Throne room, Azmot looking around the group. The blaring white room was decorated in a plethora of fountains, water flickering in the atmosphere of the room. Tick tock, tick tock; time seemed to be moving meaninglessly. Alexander lay on the floor, indifferent to the change in environment, or so it seemed.

The throne rest behind the group, Azmot looking to Etzolix for what do to next. So, do you have doctors here or..? The MCP asked bluntly. He trusted Etzolix's ability to handle the situation calmly, and knowing that calmed him.

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Alexander
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Post Count : 2710
Alexander's desperate, defiant expression faded. For moment, there was silence after the tall boy with the strange arm stopped talking.

"Where am I?"

A simple question. He scanned the room calmly, examining his surroundings. "Its white. Like a hospital of some kind." He looked to the tall man with the scarred face, then to the other boy. He seemed in better conition than the other male.

A brief glance downward and move of his shoulder told him what he needed to know. The sword that seemed connected him by a chain seared into his arm was almost as troubling as his own strange arm. It felt heavier. And cold.

He felt dizzy, as though he had been hit in the head, or perhaps deprived water. "Have we been injured? Why are we here?"

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The future is not fair to the past because by definition it has already surpassed it.
"There was a sickness."

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Etzolix
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Post Count : 10137
The serpent faded, rightfully, on his throne. His mistress sat atop his lap, or at least that was where she would be placed, as they finished appearing in the room. His hand still on her waist, he leaned on his other, his cheek resting comfortable against his closed fist, looking at the amnesiac before him. Was this a facade or were the circumstances of his departure set in stone? The ill effects were definitely not of his mode of transportation, it had been tested many times before.

The serpent snapped his fingers, momentarily getting off of his hand, causing a small child to appear. This distorted creature had a stethoscope, as well as a disgusting, flesh-worm like creature, following him and leading him. The child looked at the victim and laughed at its misery. How cute, they didn't learn compassion until they were taught. It would fall down on its rump, spread its legs out wide, and a white aura would emit from its hands. The wounds on Alexander would begin to heal.

"Hopefully, this'll jog his memory." He said, subconsciously messing around with the fabrics of Yukina's clothing, idly. She was free to move around whenever she pleased. He was too focused on the results of the healing process and the issues concerning Alex's memory. Theories of what transpired and the minute differences of Tartarus and Oblivion scanned across his mind. Interesting, indeed.  

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In this cold reality,
I made this selfish war machine.

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Azmot
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Post Count : 2131
MAG : 1
Azmot raised an eyebrow as Etzolix willed the child to come and heal Alex, seemingly. The creature fell and moved with a comical stance, which was half-heartily funny. The MCP looked at their rather silly looking group and smiled, finally feeling that everything would turn out all right.

..you cannot hide from me..

The whisper resounded throughout the area. Instinctively, Azmot looked to Etzolix, but it didn't appear as if he had spoken. The air tensed as a figure started to appear out of a shadow, the figure slowly molding into a discernible shape. Well.. that was a loose term.

The figure was vaguely humanoid and consisted of some sort of inky substance, standing slightly over Azmot with a frail, sickly looking build. It's arms were much too long for it's body, down past it's knees, and it had no sensory appendages such as eyes, nose, or mouth. It dripped onto the floor, the thick black substance fizzling to nothing as soon as it hit the ground. It's voice didn't originate from it, almost from around the room itself. It spoke softly.

..you ran from me and now you will pay with your body..

With unimaginable speed, the figure flickered forward and fused its fist into Azmot's chest cavity. It reached into the bowels of his Darkened Heart and took hold, slowly infecting it and acting as a sort of salve, drawing it out of the MCP's chest.

I'm going to die... again.

...

Blackness entered Azmot's vision, bleeding from his peripherals as his sight slowly started to fade into nothing. This marked the end of his journey, the unknown entity quelling the start of Azmot's true path.

..and you should know that your body will be infused with Spirit..

The devil has finally taken the last of me... the last of us. Azmot said to the recesses of his mind. Sid, the Husk, and anyone else who he held in his head. He never could keep up with all of the changes, in honesty. No reason to hide his shame in death, anyway. He heard no response.

But suddenly, Azmot felt the swell of two protective forces. Sid and the Husk were using their metaphorical existence to strengthen Azmot's resolve and assist him fighting against Spirit. Still the deity yanked out an essence of darkness, the MCP feeling his two guardians being ripped from his consciousness. He felt bare. And what had Spirit pulled out?

Then, with no warning, Azmot's body collapsed, shaking and convulsing. He was having a violent reaction to whatever was removed from him. He would survive, but Spirit still stood, throwing whatever he had pulled out away and reaching back for Azmot, the danger imminent and the MCP left useless.

Spirit had, apparently, won. He had not only gotten his revenge for Azmot defying him to serve Etzolix, but he was about to make Azmot the final host.

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Yukina Tarka
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Post Count : 220
Devils indeed.

Arriving back at their castle, Yukina leant her head on Etzolix's shoulder and watched as the scene unfolded. One of those little creatures that roamed the castle came to heal Alexander, who seemed to have little - if any - recollection of the events prior. Yukina frowned, perhaps his memories were lost in the Underworld, with whatever remained of his pathetic little soul. She knew how the Underworld worked, back then at least, and the stealing of memories was not at all uncommon. But Alexander... he was different. His kind didn't abide by the laws of humanity, whatever he was she didn't fully understand. It didn't matter, without his memory he was all the more fun to play with.

"Perhaps it's best if it doesn't" she whispered into her King's ear.

As events unfolded with Azmot - whatever the fuck was occurring there - garnered little to no response from the girl. She simply stared at him, face full of indifference - perhaps something learnt from her lover. All these little breakdowns one by one, all in their presence. She glanced to Etzolix, as if to question why they were even bothering with these people. Resting her head on his shoulder once more, she would sit idly by until the situation involved her anymore.

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Alexander
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Post Count : 2710
The small, white creature that resembled a human child worked its wonders on Alexander's body. It was truly a disgusting abomination, with a strange worm and doctor's garb and color. The white light that exuded from its hands was far from unpleasant... and far from peculiar. He tilted his head, giving thought to his earlier remark.

"A hospital it is, then." His eyes floated up from the disgusting child and gazed over the three forms before him. The man in the chair with the scars on his face... "You look like somebody shoved you into a bucket of glass shards. Why not have this thing attempt to heal your hideous face?" A moment later, his shoulder was put back into place with a sickening pop. Alexander grimaced, a long hiss coming from between his teeth that drew into a wide, sick grin of pleasure and a dark expression that settled upon his brow and cheeks. He did not comment on the sensation, but internally, he had decided that he liked the pain.

Then, the boy with the strange arm was attacked from a creature that had appeared suddenly from no where. it was black, inky like in appearance and had jabbed its hand into his chest. Alexander blinked, emotionless. "How heartbreaking. I think I might have liked him later."

As the situation continued to spiral, Alexander began to grow ever more curious by the creatures words. They were odd. Nonsensical to the context that Alexander viewed from. He stood up and ignored the fat child that healed him, his head still tilted.

"Wait. Aren't spirits like... okay, wait. He already has one. That's a rule for being alive, I thought." He didn't smile and spoke in a matter-of-fact monotone as he approached the creature and gave it another once over. It seemed to preoccupied with the boy to notice.

"You look like something road-map-face shit out." He motioned to Etzolix with his head, and continued to stare blankly at the boy's twitching form. "Oh god, I know this game. If you do it wrong his nose turns red and he buzzes." He gave a wuick glance towards the thing that the monster had thrown away. "I recall there being a place to put those other than 'anywhere'." A smile formed as he swung his arm up, along with his chain, the sword that was dangling and scrapping along the floor now sweeping up in an arc at the creature before him. "I hate that game. I'm going to kill you now."

It was in his mind that something started to surface. A voice reached out into his cortex and began digging into it, whispering into his ear. Foolish boy. You choose death so quickly against Gods?

Alexander's brow furrowed on the outside. Fuck off, voice-in-my-head.

I am your sword.

Oh. Well, then I own you. He continued to ignore his sword.

___________________
The future is not fair to the past because by definition it has already surpassed it.
"There was a sickness."

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Etzolix
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Post Count : 10137
As one fell, another rose. What was this? Musical chairs of the injured? He frowned, momentarily, disappointed in how quickly the MCP had fallen. He'd consider it a fluke, this time.The little boy then went to go save his life, pausing to laugh at him, as per ritual, before engaging in the ceremony. Momentarily smirking, distracted by Yukina's comment, and caring not to hide pleasures endured from the words wrapped in seduction, his hand made on last, comforting, movement, on her hip, before he began to fade.

The sound of screeching metal would signify his return, Spirit seemingly blocking the initial blow. The serpent now reappeared, ignoring Alexander's ignorance, and focused on the proclaimed god. He had seen Spirit once before, and if he recalled correctly, he was most powerful inhabiting the dark. The white of the room was his coffin, even if he did not yet know. Not deciding to hold back against this creature Inarius surrounded the serpent. A giant being foreshadowed the battle to come and cast a shadow amongst the room. This would empower Spirit, but not to the same degree it would Etzolix.

Two of the arms would come to attempt to flatten the god, like a fly to a fly swatter, in attempts to surround both sides and have the creature move upwards. Positioning was just as important in combat, if not more so, than the power a being had. By this point, Azmot would have been fully healed unless other circumstances prevented such. He unsure if the others would come to help if the situation called for it, he was sure he could rely on them, but would they be worth the risk? A damaged home was a preferable choice to a damaged family.

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In this cold reality,
I made this selfish war machine.

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Nexus
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Post Count : 40
The darkness withered in the brightness of the room, the solidified heart of Darkness pulsing in pain as it lay on the ground, helpless.

Why, Sid? Husk, why?

Thoughts started to form from the creatures conscious. The cold embrace of loneliness, the mistake of existence. Was all life like this creature's own? A byproduct of something greater than itself? Or was this being alone in that regard, too... Rhetorical questions pondered by the monster that lay.

---

Spirit turned in amusement as Etzolix stopped his initial strike, summoning a creature of great power and all the while empowering the Dark God. As the first two hands came down, Spirit willed the black mass drawn from Azmot into his hand, instantly molding it into a very large Darkblade formed of black, ice-like crystals. He threw the weapon upwards to block Inarius' attack. The expectation was different that the result. The sword spun and the creature swatted it away in Azmot's direction with the two still slamming fists, and Spirit was forced to react with haste. He put his arms towards Inarius and blocked the slam hand to hand, struggling to prevent himself from being squished. The ground cracked beneath the gods feet as the forces struggled, the Deity taking the chance to flicker away from the attack and let it continue, the ground being completely destroyed in the process. Spirit appeared in front of Etzolix, using magic to imbue his arm with the energy to harmlessly glide his hand into Etzolix's chest, attempting to grip his heart and become one with the figure and acquire a new host. A stronger host than Azmot. It was all up to Etzolix's resolve, though, which was why this was dangerous on a powerful person. If Etzolix resisted, he could absolve the diety and take his heart as his own, or even erase it from existance. It was all up to Etzolix and how strong he stood up against the... heart attack.

--

Is that... me? The being of darkness now encased in ice thought, feeling the presence of another after being moved by a large, powerful force.

Take care of him, Kid.

It's all up to you now.


Nexus.
Nexus.


These voices resounded in the beings head as he now knew his name... Nexus. The presences that seemed to envelope him and speak faded away, leaving the naked, bare, and cold soul among the barren tile.

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Azmot
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Post Count : 2131
MAG : 1
Azmot was, in fact, revitalized by the stupid looking child after it healed him, standing to see the sword dig into the ground next to him. A Darkblade borne of Spirit's design and Azmot's heart.. out of instinct, he lifted it and looked for Spirit, whom seemed to be infront of Etzolix. Out of the tip, Ice slowly seeped and Azmot understood it's power. He would encase Spirit in Ice and cast him back into the depths of the Realm of Darkness.

However, as the MCP raised the blade, Ice started to travel down his body, and he heard a voice.

What's your name?

No. No more voices. No more games. No more people that interfered with his life that he didn't even know.

He slammed the sword down on the ground, shattering it and ceasing the ice encasement. The dark, heart-like object pulsed and started to grow to Azmot's amazement. It grew appendages and became the size of a small boy, then a youth, then it was Azmot's height, and then it grew until it was taller. Features started to form as the Dark Skin became apparent, first. Eventually, Nexus' entire figure was as clear and crisp as anyone else's.

The duo exchanged a cold, but heated stare. Repulsion was almost natural in their chemistry, or so it seemed to them. However, there seemed to be a regretful yet mutual understanding. They each slowly extending a hand, their respective elements of Earth and Ice coming from the ground beneath them before meeting and clashing, fighting for dominance as they touched. But it was a standstill. Not of power, but of true control - which one was real.

When they touched, Azmot had an innate understanding of the being and vice versa. He was essentially Azmot's heartless, to an extent. They both had hearts, and were different, but Nexus was ripped from the MCP's essence. Because of this, they had a natural feeling of wanting to be dominant over the other - who had the deserved existence and who was simply a shadow.

At the end of the day, though, they were family. The strong bond was apparent to the both of them, brothers in arms, almost. And it was time for Daddy to Die.

They both turned to Etzolix, ready to assist him in destroying Spirit. However, they both felt he was probably much more than capable on his own. Spirit was out-classed in the most severe sense. If they were in the Realm of Darkness, it could go either way. If Spirit had his body, then it was no question - the god could easily demolish the entirety of the worlds. But even the newborn Imp understood that neither of those situations were applicable, and that death was evident.

Azmot turned to Nexus and realized that the Imp was, in fact, the Demon that had been purged from his body long ago. The tan skin, the name, even, was a reference to his - their - heritage.

This was the start of the beginning.

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Etzolix
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Post Count : 10137
The serpent's hand mirrored Spirits. The conflict between the two gods would soon end in a duel between the heartborn energies manifest in both of their arms. Inarius still surrounded the serpent, his aura slightly protecting Etzolix but providing no defensive benefit. A flick of the tongue, a small shift of Inarius, a collision of the two, and it was over.

Inarius looked down, the results of the battle had been decided by one fell swoop. Etzolix's arm dangled, it was a bloody mess. The crimson ichor drenched his clothing as his shoulder was incapacitated and unable to hold his arm up. His apathetic and ever bored face didn't flinch, not even his masochism showed as he looked down upon the ragged body that his arm supported.

His other arm, the one inside the chest of the god, held the heart of the creature. It still beat in his hands, ever so slightly, as pressure was slowly applied. It seems that Alexander was not the only one to have slain a god. His amber eyes looked into the respective organs of the fallen deity.

"I missed?" The failure would ask, confused as to how he would have with such a precise technique. A smirk formed on the serpent's face, mocking him until he realized his grand mistake. Spirit looked up at Inarius, as he fell to his knees, the serpent's hand still in his chest. As soon as the epiphany had echoed across his face, the serpent would rip out his being during his final embarrassment.

The body, now missing the heart, disappeared into darkness. The organ too faded as the metaphorical heart remained in the serpent's hand. He had purged it in a similar manner that he had Inarius; no memories, only power. His tongue wrapped around the container and dragged the screaming soul into his body. The remaining remnant of the deity smothered by the stature of the reptile.

Spirit's attack on his heart had failed, and it was time for him to cardiac arrest.

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In this cold reality,
I made this selfish war machine.

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