-Return of the Morning Mist-
Status: Closed without permission, CANON (for once)
Location: A forgotten Demonic Arms base in Hell
Somewhere deep in the depths of Hell itself, a relic of a bygone era lay dormant. Forgotten since the time of the Dark Council, since the conquests of demon kind, since the madness of one man’s ambition. Abandoned without a single visitor since nor trace of souls until now. It sat in the valley of a large plateau… a former base of the Demonic Arms.
It sat in a true state of dysfunction and disrepair, weathered by the elements. The walls of the perimeter were totally wiped away as if a blast from the Heavens themselves had blown clean through. Craters scattered all throughout the immediate compound leading up to the massive structure- which itself was only half standing. Most windows blown out with a few of the secondary metal hangars simply hanging if they even remained in place.
Bricks hung loose, some of the outer walls having taken a fair bit of damage. The large iron doors leading into the main tunnel were down with one’s top half being split off and the other outright missing. Inside the story was rather more devastating- crumbling walls and ceiling panels completely fallen. Light fixtures hung by their wires and dirt lay everywhere.
Further inside it looked as though small yield explosives had gone off everywhere. Piles of ruble, computer systems destroyed, hallways torn out or caved in. Some sections had entire ceilings caved in letting the outside sky’s aura ominously shimmer in. The main assembly hall itself was by far the greatest example- with the glass dome all but shattered with a thin frame and few panes hovering above, and below a mountain of debris.
Despite how ruined it was there were no bodies. What seemed the site of a mighty battle was devoid of anything that showcased itself as once lived in or manned by people. The place was all but empty of who had once been and that truly was the story… but as for who was now: that was a different manner.
A deafening howl of anguish roared through the halls- followed up by an explosive rain of shattered brick. Debris scattered in one hall. Then another boom, and another, and another. An assortment of shapes danced along the length of the hall- a trio chased by a singular. Each time the trio moved there came another explosion.
All came to a head at the edge with a solid wall blowing out and spilling into an even more massive chamber. The former network hub, the mainframe, now a room without a ceiling and with crumbled walls all around. Brick tossed and turned scattering down the piles of rubble into the room. Three blurs of black zipped through the opening where the blast sounded, three blurs zipping down onto the surface below.
Three human forms skidding back along the room’s bottom. One to their hands and knees. One bent over dropping to one knee with hands dragging. And third and final skidding back still standing though with arched knees.
The third shot a look back up at the new opening where the fourth figure stood, wielding a massive scythe weapon. The shimmer and clang of the weapon as the figure shifted. The tensing of the third who readied. The fourth shot up and lunged down, the weapon swinging.
The third bolted straight back as the scythe came down, with its wielder riding atop. The slice of the blade through the mound of debris and its crash. Rock screamed through the air all around with a shock wave that sent the mounds of debris back flipping into the air around them. The trio shot together and back, skidding.
Next came the fourth, stomping a boot down. Flickering lights around with the backup generator attempting to come to life. Their forms came to be illuminated, the shine bouncing off them all.
The first of the trio- a young man nearing his 20s. Golden amber eyes, shining with determination despite the tired strain in them. Flopping mid-length brown hair halfway down the neck, bangs all scattered around the face. In his velvet lined hand a simple katana, bearing the insignia of the Frost Clan, very much weathered.
Second was a young girl. Long gorgeous silky black hair, a deep oceanic blue set of eyes. Outfitted with the mage coat of the frost clan and wrapped in a very familiar red scarf. A tome in hand and a dagger in the other.
Finally was the third. Wavy unkempt orange hair, a right blue eye and a left pinkish red, freckle face. She wore a battered and torn red coat marked with different symbols of the demonic, along with an alternating jester outfit of black and white + gray and white. And of course a blue bowtie.
The trio… known to those of the higher ups of New Genesis as none other than: William Frost, Raven Frost, and Danielle Mersella.
Standing across from them with her scythe ripping from the ground, casting sparks which began to ignite the fallen nonsense, an older woman. LONG snowy white hair that danced all around her black cloak form. Deep amethyst eyes that seemed both cold and empty, yet full of life. A white coat beneath the black cloak, a purple scarf. Black gloves which held the scythe so effortlessly. An older woman… one who had once destroyed all of New Edo with the use of her Vortex ability- Reise Blackheart.
“Huff… huff… huff…” Raven panted.
“Tch-” William grunted with a growl.
Reise stood before them with a blank, dead expression as she one handed the scythe.
“She’s coming again, get ready!” Danielle called.
The trio shot away as Reise yielded forward and swung with a getsuga-like flash of purple energy that screamed through the debris and walls, casting another massive blast. And as the trio shot around, Reise progressed with the walls coming down. All the while a fifth entity lurked close.
Echoing steps sounding from the hole of entry above the floor of this room. The fifth in a white coat drew close with a slow walk, dragging in one hand behind the unmoving body of an older man without care. White coat adorned with two red spades (one for each shoulder), black gloves, a blue vest and pants, magenta eyes… long white flowing hair. He who bore a somewhat striking resemblance to another villain of age’s past, that resemblance being of course that of Zero Blackheart himself.
This fifth who drug the body stopped at the edge, staring down into the burning abyss of fighting. He watched as Danielle zipped around the scythe swing of Reise, watched as the duo once entrusted to the people of New Genesis attempted to flank her, watched as she effortlessly blew them all away with a single flash of her own aura. His eyes were just as cold and unyielding as those of Reise.
As the fight progressed and the obvious signs of being overwhelmed by a far more powerful opponent began to sink, Danielle’s desperation grew. Her eyes shutting and scowling back to life, a faint outline of the Reaper’s Hanteigan (Judgment Eyes) lurking. Though rather quickly the outline shattered with blood pouring from her eyes from overuse. She screamed as the signature Reaper Energy rippled into the atmosphere and greater area around them.
This dropped her to one knee, William moving towards her, “Danielle you have to stop doing that! We can’t lose you now!!”
“Huff, huff- if I don’t try it,” she clambered, “We’re all dead anyway! We can’t stop her without the Power of the Reapers!!”
Raven stepped in front of the duo, blocking them from Reise, “Well we had better think of something fast!! One Blackheart was bad enough but that other guy is still around- and I don’t think Almec can hold him for long!!”
“Hmph,” Reise chirped in front of them, spinning her scythe round, “Your persistence is admirable but ultimately futile. Dani… this will be payback for that last time with Kuro and Sato and I. There is no escape this time around.”
“Heh… wanna bet?” Danielle stammered, struggling to stand as she was clearly battered and out of it.
“Hoh? Ever defiant to the end. Very well- I’ll make this quick!” Reise concluded raising her scythe with both hands ready to pounce yet again as the fifth individual watched from on high.
