White stained halls of stone and tile, shining and sanitized. Pillars of concrete from floor to ceiling, decorated vigorously with etched splendor. The floor stretched on and on with armed guards marching in and out, with those in Tribe robes strolling across, with many unbound individuals simply on the move. Stationed, a lone bench with which Elise found refuge in for the time being.
For a time, sat up right with both hands in her lap. A short while after, lying atop with her back to the bottom. Another spell, now upside down with arms sprawled out and head to the ground. Seconds became minutes, and minutes became portions of hours. Two minutes, eight minutes, fifteen, thirty-five, and so on.
Her pace continued round and round before another passage of returning to her seat. The ticking of a clock mounted to the wall just above, the time from ten past nine to forty after eleven. Upright she sat as the tick drew to noon, a couple more in passage. A sigh lept from Elise as she laid on her side, hand to the side of her face, elbow to the bench supporting her.
“This is lousy… hasn’t been a person through here in over an hour. What’s the deal anyway?” she murmured to herself.
A set of echoing steps drew close, steps more conjoined than those that had preceded. Her eyes darted, gazing down the Western Hall. Two walked together in near sync, one of Tribe garment, a simple white leather jacket atop basic clothes, decorated with the Stars of Light. Beside him another, a knight bound in sectioned armor and cloth.
The former came in, muscular beyond belief though rather short and stubby, a banjo attached to his middle back’s clothing. The latter came in average in height and build, carrying a sheathed broadsword to his side. A simple glossing emerald look from one to the other, a look over as both drew near, finally directing their approach.
“Are you Miss Bakuuva?” the banjo wielder questioned, a slight southern drawl in his questioning.
Slowly she sat upright, off her hand and onto her bottom as she looked on, “I am.”
“Ah perfect perfect. ‘bout time. Sorry for the wait now,” the man replied once more.
“Oh, right um, and you are?”
“Oh gosh, right right ha sorry. I’m Captain Hope of the Elite Guard. Lady Bell sent me to take care of showing you ‘round and such. A pleasure to make your acquaintance after all the things I just heard.”
“Likewise I guess?” Elise replied with a raised eye, “{This guy… is not at all what I was expecting. This is what an elite captain is like? Carefree and kind of straight forward.}”
“Oh uh, right and this is Satoshi Nova of the 212th Squadron from Frostosis’s Southern Tribe,” Hope continued.
“A pleasure, Miss Bakuuva,” Satoshi stated with a slight bow.
“Heh, nice to meet the both of you. Wait, just heard?”
“We’ve just come from the meeting that I’m sure Lady Bell told ya’ll about. General Ezdorth and Lady Bell had much to say,” Hope replied.
“As did that other fellow, General Abagor was it?” Satoshi asked.
“Don’t mind Vega. He’s just a punk ass brat,” Hope laughed.
“Abagor… I’ve heard that name before.”
“Well no matter. Not much to say ‘bout ‘em really other than just a lot of rage about the Hive, the War, and a couple projects. Speakin’ of, I’d be obliged to say I think you’ll know these other fellows who came with Satoshi.”
“Know us? Well that’s a bit of a statement I suppose,” called a voice from behind the duo.
Far back approached two who bore similar attire to one another, from black coats and buttoned shirts to silvery white hair to dark blue eyes, even cross necklaces dangling around their necks.
“No way,” Elise choked out, “Ryuu? Zero?”
Both walked into full view and indeed, both were none other than Ryuu and Zero. The former approached with a rather blank gaze, standard but not uncaring, having a depth of observance to it. As for Zero, he simply approached with a wide grin.
“Lieutenant eh? Shocking to see you go from blowing your attacks up in your face to being able to command a squad, haha!” Zero laughed.
“Well hey, don’t forget, it’s your fault that happened in the first place ya know.”
“Oh heh, right well- shut up about that will ya?” he mumbled back.
“Haha. Man it’s good to see the both of you again.”
“That it is,” Zero replied, “We haven’t seen each other since before the Azala Incident. I’m uh, sorry, about Toby.”
Her gaze darted for a second, looking to the left before returning swiftly ahead, a shallow frown forming up before fading way, “It’s… what it is. He chose his path. Still, for all those years that I knew him to just- use me and turn like that… it’s, it’s what it is. Anyways, how about you guys since you know all about me? What’ve you been up to?”
“Master?” Zero asked looking to Ryuu.
“We’ve been partaking in the Frostosis War,” he replied with a deepened voice, “The Mephisto Empire has been an ally of the Frost Clan for some time. The South in particular has remained our ally. Of course, we’re mostly just advisers as fate would have it. Our Emperor has declined moving soldiers to the South’s Front due to affairs of our own.”
“Well at least you guys have a reason I guess. It just sounds like the Tribe-”
“They have been incredibly dodgy about the situation,” came a growl from beyond, “I don’t get our purpose here if all they are going to do is argue and debate about the politics of losing our world!”
Satoshi turned round as heads and eyes followed, observing several clad in leather and black plating approaching.
“Ragna, stay your tongue,” Satoshi called.
“Captain, this is just a waste of our time! What does Master Zenith expect to have changed here? The Tribe are just-”
“Easy now,” Ryuu called, “Don’t get so worked up while in the Tribe’s own facility young Frostonian.”
“GAH! Our people are dying, and they give us this?!”
“Hey!” Satoshi called moving off towards the newbies.
Hope turned his head back to Elise with a sigh, “There’all a bit worked up.”
“I can see that… and the Tribe doesn’t seem to care.”
“The Ruling Council is trying to decide on their approach now. These things just take… time,” Ryuu murmured.
“How much time though?” Zero muttered, “They’ve been at war for nearly five years.”
Elise turned her head, staring back up at the clock with only a slight turn of her body, while her head moved in full at an angle. The ticking and the tocking, bit by bit, continuing slower and slower.364Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡETz769v4p2
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“The war conflict is getting out of hand! The Southern Clan can’t seem to accomplish their victory alone, so why don’t we send in our forces to crush the resistance!?”
“Butarenga, that will just make the opposition hate us more. This needs to be done naturally, let THEM fight it out!”
“Maybe we should just ally ourselves to the victors,” stated a low growl.
“And what if the divide happens again?! The last King died and from the death of the Frost Clan came several dozen sub-factions. Now those many have collapsed into barely half a dozen, with only three dominant powers showing yet. The North might have a hold now but if we don’t act they’ll just split again!”
“This is not why we have come to you!” a young girl’s voice barked, “We’ve come to you for help!”
“A child should not be-”
“HEY!” a booming voice called out, “You’re speaking to Her Highness. If you wish to disrespect her, come down here and I will personally rip your heart out you dastard!”
“ORDER!” Maxwell’s voice boomed.
Silence drifted among the dozens of bodies, holograms and physical all shutting themselves. Maxwell drifted back, slamming into his seat. To his side stood his daughter, to his other side his wife. Distant to the opposite side of the room in turn stood a pair, one tall and older, the other short and young.
The man, tall and cloaked in a classic era trench coat with black pants, boots, and a gray shirt. He stood decked out as a count of sorts in some regard as fur and luxurious accessories drowned out his coat. His hair, flowing black and complemented by silver eyes.
The girl beside him stood shorter, decked in a stunning yellow and white dress with shoulders exposed. A crown sat atop her long bright blond hair. Ocean blue eyes stared out across the room, eyeing Maxwell, a drawn back and serious glow to them.
Rage sat within the male’s, and shock within the girl’s. Behind them stood several in leather armor with black plates, swords at their side.
“This is ludicrous. Princess Frost has done more for her people in such a short amount of time than you have for us in all the years leading up to this!” the male barked, “YES it is true, the Northern Clan has pushed the South back considerably. The interference by the Maltans over the course of the fighting has not helped. Even though they’ve shrunk to a short gulf and few cities, they are still able to resist both North and South. The South has access to only Tundra and Desert right now, meaning our natural resources for food and shelter are inferior to that of the North. We’ve asked for special aid from special forces, even just a few ships or some supplies yet you all bicker as if we’re asking for you to win this war for us! Don’t just abandon us after all we’ve done together, just because it doesn’t benefit you as much. We are allies and we aren’t asking for much here!”
Silence drifted again for several seconds more, until a reply finally drifted forth, “Princess Frost, Lord Zenith… I do apologize for- well, just in general,” Maxwell murmured.
“So now what?” one from the crowd asked.
“Fighting about tradition and acting anew is what got us here in the first place,” an older man from the front of the crowd spoke.
The man stood, slowly, standing with a cane. Cylinders and hoses stuck out along his right shoulder, metal plates bent round. A respirator clung round his entire throat, replacing flesh, while the right side of his face flared with burned scar tissue. A single visor stood in place of his right eye, metal plating moving to the side of his skull where a box sat in place of his ear. His entire right side in some way seemed mechanical, from the grinding of gears as he stood with his right leg to the metallic bend of his arm.
An amble eye glared around the room while the mechanical visor presented an eye as well, also adrift in sync with his physical one. His gray hair flopped slightly, brushed aside by his left hand. Steam jetted from his back and his right shoulder, the folds of his military coat flapping, as did the overcoat around him.
“Grand Admiral Seraph,” Maxwell replied, pointing to the man, “If you would.”
“It is clear that the North has our island. That should be enough motivation to drive the lot of you who object to saving the South. We should have stepped in and crushed the North the minute they expanded passed their borders; but we left it as some trivial civil affair. True we can not run our allies; but we should recognize this crap and act ahead of it starting. Maybe if the Hive had called out that it was helping them a lot sooner, we would’ve acted. Eh, Abagor?”
“Grr, get to the point Seraph!” Vega Abagor spat back.
“We rely too much on old ways of thinking. We focus only on the Hive, only on the safety of the Shards. We’ve ignored many things in doing that. Meanwhile, look at the Hive, happy to accept new allies and to even give them high positions within their ranks. They openly accept others, unlike us. Even now we’re looking on results like Elise Bakuuva as inferior to natural Lightonian might. She has all the spirit and drive, yet we look at her as an inferior creature. We look at the struggle of the Frost Clan as a sub-problem that is beneath our watch. We need to grow up and welcome outside perspective,” Seraph called.
“There you go about that brat,” Vega growled with a roll of his eyes, “Not even part of this conversation. Why is Holly’s special project so viable to the Frostosis situation?”
“She isn’t the only one,” Seraph replied, “We have many more like her in some regard. We have many allies just like her. You denounce people like her for wanting revenge, without even understanding if that IS her goal in the first place.”
The old male began to walk, another puff of steam jetting from his right shoulder as he crept around the table, looking over it, “Bakuuva seeks justice. And then take Bjorn for example. He might be hated but we made him that way. He was another from Project Stingray, which might I add is not our only project.”
“The project is a flop,” Vega muttered, watching Seraph walk, “And Axel Bjorn is a demon, no better than the Dharkanians.”
“A judgment you have just so happened to pass without ever getting to know him, and he isn’t the only one. Look at Vulfax. That whole clan and many others falls under the parameters of Stingray, even if we didn’t plot their growth, yet we ignore all of them just because they were once our enemy? That’s stupid.”
“Since we’re on the subject,” another spoke, “Why is this Bakuuva so special? She didn’t beat any foes alone. She had a squad to back her up, and in the case of the Azala Incident, her Starblade backed her up.”
“Everyone needs help from time to time,” Holly called, “How about missions? Has she failed? No, she’s gone above and beyond. Her smarts earned her the rank of Lieutenant in just six months of working for us. She hasn’t disappointed because she is chosen.”
“What like a prophecy or something? That kind of Chosen One? That’s just garbage,” another laughed.
“That’s not what I meant so shut the hell up, that is a terribly outdated thing. Prophecies and Chosen Ones, pft.”
“She’s brilliant, and she isn’t the only promising outside cadet at our disposal,” Seraph concluded.
“And what about Project Venom?” Vega questioned, “If anyone survives, they become mighty weapons for our cause.”
“That is inhumane and unethical,” Wesley spat.
“No different than Holly’s Stingray. The only difference between the two is that in Stingray, we take time to polish the turds from whatever situations they are already in, or that we put them in, then spend years and plenty of money to develop them slowly. In Venom, it’s direct and fast, we just give them a major buff.”
“Stingray has done plenty Abagor,” Holly replied.
“Thousands of failures, either died or were abandoned as failures. Elise and Axel are two of maybe a handful of successes from over the years.”
“They are lives, not playthings General,” Seraph growled.
“I agree with Admiral Seraph’s assessment,” a female called out, “We need to branch out more if we are going to grow.”
“Alice, if I wanted your filthy opinion I’d ask. If you don’t like fighting with the Tribe then go back to the Hive you Dharkanian wench,” Vega growled.
“I am loyal to the Tribe, through and through. Don’t try me,” Alice growled, “We’re clearly several steps behind here, General. We should be learning from our enemy. They’ve been at this for years.”
“Speaking of, how did they bounce back so fast and hard?”
“Ahem, if I may,” Jarrajod replied, “I believe it is the work of this Shadow fellow, and maybe the masked man Cylux. The use of Arkaza and Azala both is clearly a tie of this Cylux fellow, and it is likely that Cylux has tied other keys to their strategy in place, likely having hand in the Northern Clan’s advance on Frostosis. He is very clearly a top tier threat that we should deal with.”
“HA!” Wesley laughed, “Easy now Jarrajod. Cylux is a troll at best, not that special.”
“Don’t be so sure,” a deeper voice, more honey silk-like, replied.
“Minister Ivan, surely-”
“Think about it General Ezdorth. Clearly this Cylux had a hand in gathering Arkaza and Azala both. Clearly this Cylux manipulated Toby into our ranks and planned the attack on Nospheross. Why shouldn’t we assume the worst? Either way you look at it, Shadow and Cylux are not Dharkanians, nor is Tobias Tazaki. The Hive has put their faith in these outsiders to do such important tasks.”
“The time for playing around is at an end then,” Maxwell murmured, “Princess Lynn Abigail Frost, Lord Zenith Tatara. I will commit special forces to Frostosis along with more supplies and resources. We’ll include some of our special project forces to give them a proper test as well.”
“Thank you,” Zenith replied with a bow.
“We can no longer idle around. Our enemy is gaining the upper hand. We can’t let this carry on. Like it or not, we need to adapt. Ready the girl and the demon, along with any other special project forces. Then ready up units of both our normal and elite units. I want our best personnel to depart for Frostosis with those units to help turn this war around. Our counter attack… is now!”
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