Moments of Perfect Peace [WW4]

Thu Jul 11, 2019 8:50 pm

Cyrus

Artist: Kota Hoshino - Song: EG Expression II

Every step Cyrus took upon the sands of Africa felt...different, now. His footsteps did not land the same upon the Earth has they had prior. The wind did not blow across his face in the way it once had. There was something almost unsettling about it, but of course Cyrus did not feel unsettled in the slightest. No, if anything it filled him with a profound joy, to know that his own vision for himself had proven true. Not merely a man, but…

Ah, here he was. As the Quincy stepped toward the gates of Roran, he smiled faintly to himself. This was one of the most well-defended cities in the world. Barriers against all known energies, meant to keep away intruders of every race which walked the Earth. A miracle of modern science, some would say, and Cyrus did have to admire that. Perhaps he had something to learn from it, but he would take things one at a time. There were more important matters to attend to, matters which required a bit of effort.

"Yasra rhean sinn kabz."

Oh, what a rush it still was, to speak his holy words. How exhilarating, to feel the world bend to his will. Truly, he had been elevated to the status he had always been meant to carry. As he felt the energies of the world shift and adapt to his desires, he all at once simply...became the wind, his form nothing more than a heavenly breeze, carried past any sort of walls that evil might have placed. He flew further still into the city, beyond everything...and into the throne room of King Hayden himself.

When he arrived, it was as though he was simply stepping out from some invisible gossamer curtain, his footsteps simply echoing out as if from nowhere. It appeared as if he had simply stepped from one place right to this spot, and his stride did not stop even as he arrived. His posture was straight, his stride proud, and his smile…

There were many smiles in this world. Some were earnest, some less so. Some carried kindness, others parental affection, and still others were as though extraterrestrial masks, to cover another emotion. But the smile Cyrus wore was none of those things. It was small, as if almost an afterthought. It did not seem as though he was in any sort of incredible mood, but rather like he was simply content with the world. And, of course, he was. He had come here so effortlessly now, after the great struggle to find the key to victory. It was only right he be a happy man.

"King Desmond Hayden of Vastime. Cyrus ast-Auramazda. A pleasure to finally meet you after having heard so much about you."

His tone was not condescending, for he meant every word of it. He may not have cared for these shinigami, or vizards, or any others who came from other realms to interfere in Earth's affairs, but they were of course still fellow lives, fellow parts of his creation. They had their place in the grand tapestry. That place simply was not Earth.

"I admire the nation you have built, King Hayden. A land of both freedom and security, of prosperity and tranquility. A remarkable feat if ever there was one."

His smile grew just a touch, then. Was it a smirk? No, that would be unbecoming of one of his station. Rather, it was simply amusement at this whole situation. It may have been a bit theatrical, that much was true. He knew fully that nothing he did here would carry much in the way of true change. But what it would do was send a message. It would tell the world that there was another who took grave offense to the way of the world, that the natural order would in time be restored. And he, who had transcended mere humanity...he would be the one to restore it.

"But now, I think, it is time for you to leave it in the hands of the people of Earth. You have done quite enough."

It was obvious Cyrus spoke not as a suggestion, but wholeheartedly as a command. He had begun to allow his voice to carry with it the full weight of his spiritual power, of the new form he had come to possess. His mind returned to the thought he had been considering before he arrived at the gates. His own vision of himself had truly been made into truth. He was no longer merely a man.

He was a god.

Fri Jul 12, 2019 1:02 am

THE KING OF VASTIME

RISES FROM HIS THRONE

Play that music.

The king sat upon a throne of iron, and steel, as he watched his grand hall become lively with activity. Next to him upon a throne made of the same iron and steel was his queen. Abalia, the woman whom he had grown to love over the years. The one being in this world which held him in totality, in these moments he could spend with his wife truly brought him a happiness which was indescribable. But there was always matters to be whispered between the two, and today was no exception. For as the hall worked around them he had leaned in whispering something to her, in that moment he felt it was important.

Until something changed, until a weigh dropped upon the room which sought to invade his mind. His heart stopping within it's place as he knew this presence, for only one being could invoke such weakness within the king. It was that black entity, the one which held a bone hand around his soul gripping tight his very essence. He did not get a word out, as emerald eyes focused upon the queen and convey'd everything with a simple look.

Death had beckon'd Hayden.

He had told her of his encounter with the primordial being, but he doubt she truly could comprehend such a thing. That all his weakness and symptoms stimmed from something of unfathomable power grasping his soul, and demanding he enacted it's will upon the world. But her husband was not so easily tamed, nor would he submit easily to such a beast. But in this moment, it was not Death calling to him. It was something else, something far more terrifying.

It was warning him. And it was furious, such disgust at whatever was coming to greet Hayden that it's rare disdain had come to manifest in Hayden. He had never in his left felt so disgusted, as if he was about to see the more definite mockery of life and death to walk upon the world. But a danger persisted underneath, and that was all he needed to do as he stared upon his love once more.

"Leave, now."

His voice quaked with an uncharacteristic anger, as every being alive within the room would find themselves being grabbed by the mysterious force of Vastime. It was so jarrying for each person to just be ripped from their point in space, and deposited within a bunker which laid underneath the city. Every defense and rune ward possible was etched unto it, and they only thing they would see in this war-room was a monitors upon monitors. This was a war-room, and within the center was a giant monitor displaying the king sitting upon his throne and the arrival of a new man.

Hayden hands gripped tight the iron of his throne as every word was spoken from the false idol. A rage which he had never felt, one which was as if something was igniting his blood on fire from his mere presence. In this moment, he knew this was not simply some bold play by the Vandereich. This man, this Cyrus, had performed something which should not be possible. He had done something which so thoroughly angered Hayden's patron that there could never be peace.

Be it by the gods, or fate, or happenstance. This two men where no longer simply men, no longer people who where concerned about the mundane world. They stood on two opposite ends of a spectrum which no amount of words could ever solve, for this was a rivalry born out of divinity and disgust.

Thus, Hayden would stand from his throne as he shattered the steel arm rests from the mere weight he applied to them. Despite the calm look on his face, within the eyes of the king convey'd a fury which rival'd a thousand suns and intensity. He had walked into his kingdom, his lands, and insulted him gravely. His very presence was a mockery of the soul cycle, and there was only one recourse in this situation.

"Perhaps a time shall come when that is true, Cyrus ast-Auramazda. But you are as of Earth, as I am of the spiritual world. Whatever abomination you have invoked upon yourself..."

With each word spoken by the king, it carried the weight of his entire will. Such power seemed to cause the room to quake as they two began to slowly and surely unleash every bit of the energy. The Vastimian system shook as it tried to contain their powers, within the war-room which presided Abalia she would see techies working relentlessly trying to stablize it.

A hand would rest upon his weapon, the impending aura of death beginning to spill forth.

"Cannot be allow'd to live. I declare, war upon you. And all those, aide you."

Coding Altered From: [THEFROST]'s

Fri Jul 12, 2019 1:30 am

THE KING OF VASTIME

RISES FROM HIS THRONE

Play that silence.

There where many sins which Cyrus had currently performed, from making a mockery of life and death. Believing that his ascension would somehow set right all the actions of the world, but in the eyes of an almighty figure which bore no name and allegiance he was but a gnat which dared to step against them. It was for this reason, and this reason along the presence which was felt in the room was not Hayden's. It was not some force which could outwardly project it's self, no this was something far older which only used the man as an avatar. It would never had gotten the chance to reach out, to emplace upon Cyrus it's feelings had he not done this simple action.

By placing a ward against death, he had committed a sin which spat in the face of something which he knew not was his enemy. And for the briefest moments upon placing that ward, the result would become catasrophic for both Hayden and Cyrus. As these two men felt overwhelming power bear upon their souls, as if they themselves where the only things keeping the sky from falling. As a single entity let out a roar which no one except these two heard, who's mere voice caused Hayden to let out an agonizing howl as he felt his body be forcibly made into the transmitter.

For Cyrus it would be brief, a fraction of but a moment. But in that time he felt what was truly the issue here, that the anger and disgust Hayden felt was not simply Hayden's own whim. But the weight of something that was neither divine nor mundane. A force which bore down with such rage and disgust at the ward that the throne which they where in seemed to become nothing but a white void. It was haunting, the type of thing which if lesser men where exposed to they would never be able to speak again.

Cyrus, had learned, Death himself at taken notice of the false idol. And, he was not pleased. Not. At. All.

The room which the two where in would erupt into a cataclym of metal and wood, as a force of power exploded from Hayden. A howl of pain being heard as a scream which seemed to tear at his vocal cords was made with such force that the dome of energy which kept them at bay seemed to quake violently. Once it died down, he would see Hayden leaning upon his weapon- emerald eyes focused intently upon the man. The ward which was placed upon his body was gone, but that wasn't simply it. It was utterly, in totality destroyed and ruined. The ancient words of divine power which he used felt like a being had taken chalk to them and crossed them out millions of time, like a crazed man scribbling fiercly.

Death, would not have him touching his avatar in such a way. Not like that.

But Hayden, he seemed to sneer taking a deep breath as he jerked the blade from the ground.

"You felt it, and now you know why I must do what I do."

Yes, that summed it up. Even as they two naturally where enemies Cyrus would easily grasp why Hayden could not be civil. For there was a being of far greater power than both of him which demanded Hayden do this, even as Hayden fought to have his own level of free will. There was still the naturally tugging, or screaming, which told him to bring this false idol before the being which he was indebted to. However, strangely enough Hayden did not attempt to bring his blade down upon the man. Nor did he tap into the powers which could send them to his patron.

Instead, he would see the coiled body which was Hayden baring down upon him. Neither moving, nor backing away.

"What must happen, must happen. The choice, for us, was decided many moons ago."

The low baritone of his voice, the danger to it. For any outside perspective seemed like a mad man. But these two knew. And they knew well.

Coding Altered From: [THEFROST]'s

Sat Jul 13, 2019 9:01 pm

THE KING OF VASTIME

RISES FROM HIS THRONE

Play that silence.

Hayden was a man of many things, some which contradicted themselves when placed upon a singular man. But he was foremost the king of Vastime, a collection of nations which depended on him to lead them into the new era. For even as the weight of Death bore down on Hayden urging him to strike this affront of the natural order, there was a singular will which sought to hold back the side. And as Cyrus gaze watched Hayden he would be the only one who could see the battle which raged in the King's soul and body. Unlike Cyrus who accepted the terms of the avatarhood, Hayden was something else.

It appeared as if with his collective might he was the single fixture holding back a floodgate. Even as it sprung leaks, pouring forth murderous intent into the world he did not strike Cyrus. Emerald eyes gazed upon Cyrus as his entire body shook, white knuckles forming on his hand from the sheer grip upon his blade. The palace around them reduced to rubble, as Hayden physically shook restraining himself to obey the will of Death. One may ask why, or how this was even possible. It was simple, Hayden was the King and he would never bend the knee willingly.

Gods be damned.

"Cyrus." His name was spoke like a hiss, the air escaping out of his mouth carrying within it power. The raw magnitude of energy he was holding back was clearly harming him, for he could barely keep a straight voice. His eyes conveying to the man a mixture of defiance, towards his patron, and anger, towards Cyrus. There was a war being raged inside the man, for which no one had experienced before. And it was agonizing.

"I am the King of Vastime, and though our conflict transcends mere mortality. I shall not encroach upon my honor even as a being of indescribable powers demands such." He vehemently spoke, as if each word seemed to cause his physical pain. But such defiance came at a price as he felt his patron very unpleased presence bare down upon him. It caused him to fall to a knee, his teeth gritting as the ground cratered from an force which seemed invisible to all. But Hayden did not take his gaze off of Cyrus.

"I shall not, strike you, today. But if you remain within my kingdom and presence, you will find that I shall no choice in the matter. I cannot allow, foreign entities, to dictate my nation. Our war, will be raged between us."

It was all carefully chosen words, even as he felt the overwhelming force bare upon his soul begin to begrudglingly release. Be it because it didn't want to destroy Hayden, or because Hayden had at the very least seemed to be willing to enact it's will. But It was clear there was things to be determined, and with the very light removal of the entity upon his soul he could only gasp drawing in breath.

"I have a feeling, that many today will see our actions and think Vastime and the Vandenreich are now enemies. But me and you, we are privy to forbidden information. Though this makes us enemies, we shall set right the world first. Then, we shall enact the will of our.. patrons."

It was not lost on Hayden the gravity of his words, but with the release of power anything which could serve as glimpses into this private affair would be gone. For the moment, it was just these two. And with that being said, Hayden had offered his temporary truce in a war which he didn't have a choice in.

Coding Altered From: [THEFROST]'s

Moments of Perfect Peace [WW4]

Moments of Perfect Peace [WW4]

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