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Wait, what with Skarmory? Did it just get defeated or did something specific happen to it? I understand that it took enough damage to fall, but the defeat scene was unexpected.

Anyway...

Ekimu the Mask Maker: 10/50

Fairy in a bottle: 9/10

Cobweb && Sewing needle && Trace of Magic = Spellweaver (1/?)

The Spellweaver tags multiple enemies that are shot with it. Once done tagging, it creates a magical path connecting each tagged target to each other tagged target, dealing damage with the element of my choice. Additionally, the network of paths lingers for a while and can damage other entities or players that stumble into it. The lingering effect, unfortunately, doesn't discriminate between allies and enemies.

I set up prism like crystals in a ring around herobrine. I then zap them all with my Thunderstruck, and the electric field speads out centered on herobrine. This likely won't do anything to him directly, but it should inconvenience him enough for someone else (the next AZ who targets him) to successfully attack him.

Thanks, Richard.
Shenelsky inscribes a rune onto the ground, pouring a duplicate of Lucky Tea into it.
A pillar of grey rises into the sky, and out of it's sides pours the stuff of time and space.
The essences wrap around Shenelsky, creating a shell. He lifts his hand.
Herobrine floats upwards.
Up, down, left, up, down, right, down, up, up, down, down, left, right, left right, backwards, and forwards.
Shenelsky tells the pillar about the day before the universe started.
Herobrine is transported there, to be obliterated by creation.



Tea || RNGesus Shrine = Lucky Tea (Level 5: 6/6) DONE
Ultracondensed Wall || Bedrock^2 Ingots = ? (Level 7: 2/8)
Dice || Lucky Tea = Infinity Sided Die (Level ?: 1/?)


50/50 Life (+2 from Tazz) DONE


Well… How's this project been going along?
Ford takes out a glass jar, with various resources in it. He looks satisfied, and pours the contents into the ground.
Cellular Lifeforms Summoned!
Cellular Lifeforms:
Each has 1 HP. The Cellular Lifeforms starts out with a population of 64, and doubles every turn. The smaller the population, the harder it is to hit.
Every three turns, half the population gets a random ability, good or bad. It could range from more HP, faster multiplying, or just the ability to do combat.


12/20 splat tim (+2 from Tazz)
3/25 A big potato (+2 from Richard)


+2 to The Scribe.

15/20 1st ESFB

3/8 Tails

+2 Pit

My Action: Alright, so the Hostile stuff is getting seriously annoying. Odds are this is just going to be a deadlock with 4 factions (us, PZ, AZ, and Hostile) summoning entities all the time, with the occasional field wipe mixing things up. Since I have no idea which side to attack, I instead get ready to attack Phantom Walker. Note his super armor, it will make him nearly impossible to damage without a powerful enough attack. I get that, EXOS!

I open up with a flash step blitz, slashing at him several times from multiple directions in an attempt to wear down his armor. After a few hits, he makes an inevitable counterattack. Unfortunately for him, I dodge the counterattack and then hit the weapon he used with my sword hard enough to send it flying into the dirt nearby. Next, I convert my right arm (which is pretty much made out of raw endergy, remember) into a endergy blade which I slash through him past his armor. At first, nothing happens. However, a few seconds later, the slash rips open, tearing through his armor and inflicting a nasty gash on his skin. Before he can recover, I punch him in the face and knock him on the ground, then jump and send my right arm into his body to channel endergy into Phantom Walker for crippling damage. When he finally recovers from that, I teleport away.

EXOS Action: While Crusher48 was attacking Phantom Walker, I brought out a trick weapon: a drone armed with a net gun. After Crusher48's attack combo finishes (or if it never happens because he missed or got blocked or something), the drone lines up and fires the net gun at Phantom Walker. However, instead of a net, a mass of fishing line, hooks, and other sharp objects comes out instead, which SCP Foundation personnel would call SCP-162. Phantom Walker is impaled by the fish hooks, and after some brief struggling becomes hopelessly entangled. The damage over time will not have any effect due to his super armor, but being entangled should make it easier for other attacks to work on him.

SCP Foundation Action: The Captain tries to figure out whether or not the CSI Cyber team actually left the server. If they did, he starts looking around where the portal is located, hoping to find a way to use it to get out of here. If they are still on the server, he tries to motivate them to get back on the field and do their jobs.

Stream Like STEVEREEN (and no, this summon is sadly not stevereen): 41 43/50 (Crusher, do you know what other people don't know? Did you steal a copy of this entity or something? I really don't know why you're charging this that much, but i'm slightly concerned. I know your team's hurting a bit, but this is a bit awkward.)

The Bar: [GGGGGGAAAA]

Doom Panic: 3/7

"So, you're gonna decide to Suplex the dragon? Interesting. And sadly, very foolish."

Pit uses "Why Don't Ya Just Shoot Them?" to the fullest by using the uninterruptable attack sequence involving the suplexing of the dragon to, you guessed it, just shoot Star's Body.

For the record, the only reason I am charging the entity is strategy based on how the summon works (namely, only the last 10 assists count towards which side the entity goes towards, so it is an optimal strategy to wait a bit and then dump a bunch of assists into the entity). All I know about the entity is that it is likely to be very powerful due to being a 50 post charge.

/null

Liberty Launcher && The Direct Hit && A Deep Commitment To Purple =The Saint's Row 7/8

Star Cannon && Minishark = Minishark Cannon (Level 7: 6/8)

i use the Spellbook to fire a Magical Arrow at Herobrine. Annoying Arrows applying to this game, he just ignores it. Completely. When the arrow hits, however, instead of feebly breaking against his skin/voidenegrys, it breaks into 20, equal sized arrows, with 4 types of arrows- explosive, fire, lightning, and diamond. They converge on Herobrine, hitting him. However, instead of breaking like they should, they instead each break into another 20 arrows, of the same type.

Meanwhile, i construct a sentry gun out of warp-enhanced high-powered infinite ammo sniper rifles. Oh, and did i mention the warp energy's are strong enough to create extremely tiny black holes that collapse on themselves? Meanwhile, the arrows are enchanted with a bypass spell, allowing them to ignore the black holes, but still hit Herobrine. This endlessly loops, with the arrows powers somehow not destorying the other arrows. As the number of arrows reachs something like 2000000 of each type, they merge together to create a gigantic form of each arrow.

The lightning-empowered arrow causes a lightning strike with the force of 5000000000000000¹⁰ elephants charging to hit Herobrine.

The Fire Arrow causes a massive, fiery explosion, with Herobrine at its core, and a huge ring of fire surrounding it, with the crimson below being scarred by fire.

The explosive arrow cause an explosion that puts 5000¹⁵ Tsara Bomb's to shame. And i mean the original design, not the model that was ultimately tested.

The diamond arrow suddenly turns into a sword, which then explodes into millions of diamond swords. A massive swarm of them charges at herobrine, with them exploding into 2 more swords upon hitting him. The Swarm of Deadly Exploding Diamond swords charges Herobrine for one last time before exploding into nothingness.

i then toss the Gemblade at Herobrine, and having run out of creativity, break it into 7 gemswords and have them all omnislash him,

i then proceed to look at my wall-o-text and after purposely muddling it up make Herobrine correct the spelling whilst i endlessly spam Tophat Doom at him.

25/50 Upgrade system (1+ from ire) (2+ from tazz))

12/50 Deactivated...

2+ to irecreeper

Post II

Y pours lava onto the Possessed Armors, melting them.

He then watches as one of the 4 large chains on the cover of the golden book breaks, before injecting Plantera with a large syringe filled with SCP-1100. Green energies pulsate through the overgrown monstrosity as Y gives it a large smile.

Y: My entity, my rules.

Plantera:

The Mindkiller 8/10

Pitch Black 3/10

Vortex Monolith 8/15

SCP-882 5/20

00C: ...I was going to summon all of these bosses.

Also, why didn't my first post do anything last turn?

As I enter the battlefield, a choir of a thousand lamps starts morsing a hymn detailing my glory.

After that, I whack Herobrine with a sign on which is written:"You can not grasp the true form."

24/40

5/5 Incendiary Autobow COMPLETE!

I take out my Diamond Autobow, and show Richard a thing or two!

Specifically, I show Richard a really cute kitten. Richard immediately sees where this is going, and backs away slowly... But was he prepared for...

TWO really cute kittens?

I then proceed to drop the kittens into the ULTIMATE KITTY DEATH MACHINE. Richard takes it upon himself to save him! And he definitely wasn't mind controlled into doing it by me or various eldritch entities! ...Unless he chooses not to save the kittens. In which case, he totally was mind-controlled into saving them anyway!

Inside the Ultimate Kitty Death Machine, there are first anti-godmodding enchants that magically disable godmodding powers(IT'S MAGIC, DONT ARGUE WITH IT). Then, death buzzsaws! Then, pirahna tanks! Then, explosive diarrhea! Then, laser sharks! Then, whirlpool! Then, an in-game representation of the bully who gave him a swirly that one time, who now gives him a swirly in the dunk tank! Then, a giant bomb, that doesn't open an escape route out of the machine! Then, one last safe room, where the only way to feel deep, excruciating pain penetrate through your skull and shatter all defenses forever is by pressing keys on the IRL keyboard! Guess who kind of needs that for his in-game controls!

Throughout all this, Richard must protect the kitties with nothing but his own body.

And then when he makes it out, the kitties morph into their true identity: TT2000 clones who beat him up.

Alright! A new update!

Leviathan: 19/30!

Guitar Solo: 4/40

I use my Manaticon Flamesprayer to fire a few bursts of fire into SCP-682 to chip down its health. Some more firepower should be unleashed once it gets more critically injured...

50/50 Binary Slime

Echeladder 2/50 free x2

10/40 Badge 6 cobalt x4, uzi x2, free x2

+2 cobalt

Badges: 5/8

Airstrike Beacon && TM25 10/10

All HMS AND Wand 2/?

___

Binary Slime

HP: 150,000/150,000

Damage: Normal

Abilities:

Squishy [Attacks against have chance to deal 25% less damage]

Code Scramble [Attacks inflict a random negative status effect]

Disable [5 turn charge|Disables all of the target's special abilities and traits for 3 turns]

___

Mercury takes out a Santa hat, and puts it on Valeera's head, obscuring her vision. He then takes a scarf and wraps it around her neck tightly, suffocating her. He then takes out a Christmas tree, puts gifts under it, and tells her to go open them. She stumbles over to them, but manages to open one of the gift boxes. An angry elf pops out and attacks her with toy weapons, as in, fully functional weapons designed for use by sentient toys.

It's almost Christmas.

--Relevancy Line--

Mercury looks over the battlefield, surveying the ongoing war. A few ships fly overhead as usual, and Mercury ignores them until one lands close behind him. He turns around, ready to engage in combat if necessary. The doors of the ship open, and a few dozen heavily armoured soldiers pour out and surround Mercury, laser rifles pointing at his chest. Mercury takes out a pokeball and tosses into the air, but then catches and pockets it. Instead, he takes out a bow and waits for the soldiers to make the first move.

Two of the soldiers part. A man dressed in robes walks through the circle and takes a few steps towards Mercury. He points his bow at the man, but the man ignores him and shows Mercury a badge. He then starts speaking quite quickly.

My name is Detective James Reid, of the Planetary Destruction Department of the Milky Way Galactic Police Force. You are under arrest for one count of planetary destruction and over five billion counts of first-degree murder. You have the right to remain silent, but enhanced interrogation is quite legal.

Mercury doesn’t react for a few seconds, somewhat confused, but seems to come to a realization.

Hah, do you really think I can be stopped by mere soldiers? Tell the one who sent you that he’ll have to try harder. If you somehow make it out of this alive, that is.

A circle of binary spreads outwards from Mercury, replacing matter with ones and zeroes. Mercury closes his eyes for a second to concentrate, then opens them, reverting the binary into matter. The surrounding soldiers have been disintegrated, but the Detective stands as he was before, impassive. An indigo coloured shield surrounds him.

You are also under arrest for fifty-two counts of murder of a peace officer.

Mercury scowls.

Catch me if you can.

He… doesn’t actually leave… Neither of them plan to engage each other at this moment, and the two just awkwardly part, the Detective returning to the ship, and Mercury rejoining the battle.

"Nerf" Bat 10/11
Dual Pistols II Healium II Small Generator = Deus Noctum 7/11

+2 to IGN

Sukard 19/50
"Josh" 2/10

I pull out the Solar Eruption and throw several times, hoping to hit either the Golem (HP should be nerfed because in the game he's an absolute joke), or several of Skeletron's Arms.

I complete the Agonizing Rod. Wonderful.

WRITHING STICK: A rod wrapped in living wood that twitches and writhes like the flesh of hellscholars. An obscene amount of black magical energy drips and encircles throughout the weapon, fueling its eldritch suffering. Whoever uses this must do so wisely, lest the spirits trapped within invade and destroy their mind and soul.

The Possessed Armors assail the Voidtouched Chicken.

30/30 Expended.

I warp over to the Alchemiter, crackling with power. Everyone sharply intakes breath for what will likely be a vital and powerful upgrade.

Moments later, I warp away, having stuck a brewing stand into the punch card shunt.

The Alchemiter now has the ability to brew potions. For example, Water Bottle OOO Nether Wart would create an Awkward Potion, Awkward Potion OOO Magma Cream would make a Fire Resistance potion, and such. You all know how this works, having been in DTG2. For those who weren't, it is as easy as it looks. Try a few things out, will you? I teleport back to the field of battle.

~

Then, I flash-step over to Herobrine. A reward, you say? I think I can manage.

I pull out a deck of cards, shuffling them about incessantly. Then, I pull a singular card from the deck, replacing the larger stack of cards in my inventory. The two of spades, this time. I spin the card about in my hands, watching my opponent quiescently.

I swing the card in one hand, as if it were a blade. As momentum carries my arm downward, the card transforms into a sword itself. But not any mere sword. A regisword. This is likely to be expected, given the whole spade motif here. Hah. Regardless, I begin to disappear and reappear randomly in different locations around Herobrine.

My form flashes and pulsates with a variety of colors as I flash-step and teleport about. I appear to still be examining Herobrine the entire time, not taking my eyes off of him, even for a second. I effortlessly ignite a flame in the air before me, tipping my blade into it, if only for a moment. The fire seems to be absorbed into the sword, oddly enough. Hah.

I continue to pervade Herobrine's vision, in every direction he happens to look, blazing infernal chessblade in hand. Suddenly, Herobrine experiences an excruciatingly painful and scalding pain in his chest. I draw the sword from his body, and watch as he is undoubtedly unaffected. The burning blade appeared to have punched through his chest in a manner akin to how a serrated metal shard slices through churned milk.

I transform the blade back into a card, and stand before Herobrine, preparing for the infinitely more deadly second strike. You can't beat this, I assure you. Or, I cannot, at least.

I lunge at Herobrine, wielding not a two of spades, but what appears to be a clown horn. I begin to honk the instrument wildly, jumping around Herobrine madly. I proceed to cease the relentless honking of death, and throw the instrument at Herobrine. It bounces off of his head, and lands on the floor, useless. Hah.

I look at the time, waiting. Moments later, a returning honk comes from the hills in the north. Then, another. Soon enough, hundreds of honks appear to emanate out from the vast span of the hillscape, reverberating off of the sides of hills, and amplifying the overall noise. A figure scales the top of the largest hill of the area. Then, another. Within minutes, hundreds of humanoid shapes have all made their way to the top of the pseudo-mountainous hill, all watching the strife upon the battlefield. I take several steps away from Herobrine. It suddenly dawns on everyone who these beings are.

They, quite clearly, are all clowns. Hah.

The clowns all see the horn, discarded on the ground. In unison, they all look up several meters, and see Herobrine, the person closest to it. He has committed an atrocity. Not picking up the Sacred Instrument after it has been laid down with reverence. A single word echoes across the entire Battlefield, blaring into the ears of all, repeated twice.

CLOWN ARMY: blasphemy.
CLOWN ARMY: BLASPHEMY.
CLOWN ARMY: blasphemy.

With an enraged roar, the clown army storms down the hill, thousands of clowns following the initial hundred of so. The clowns reach the Battlefield proper in moments, before all bearing down upon Herobrine at once. A ring constructed of clowns a thousand strong and more completely entraps Herobrine. A single, incredibly muscular clown with a fake red nose and facepaint enters the circle, throwing Herobrine revolted looks. The clown picks up the horn. The entire army begins to let out whoops and satisfied roars. And now, for the closing act.

The clown tosses the horn into the crowd, where it is taken up by a laughsiah priest of high renown, and stored away safely. Then, the muscular clown punches Herobrine directly in the face. The force alone knocks Herobrine off of his feet, and onto the ground. The thousands of clowns promptly assail the hero of saltwater at once. Horns, juggling clubs, and fists are used to utterly crush the opposition. Suddenly, a certain clown lifts Herobrine's body above the masses of clowns. Another clown leaps atop the shoulders of his fellows, wielding a ceremonial juggling club. The other clowns all cheer and whoop. The clown leaps from pair of shoulders to pair of shoulders, before reaching Herobrine's restrained form. Madly, the clown smashes the club directly into Herobrine's chest, branding the Capricorn symbol onto his chest.

The clown army immediately goes insane at the sight of the symbol, and begin to crush Herobrine's bodily form under the weight of thousands of masterful clowns. Fists and pointed fingernails dive in and out of Herobrine's body, attempting to reduce him to a large stain on the ground.

The thousands of clowns bear Herobrine off to the cliffside shore hundreds of miles away in several hours. I follow. They bind his limbs, and hang him over the salty abomination-infested waters, a laughsiah priest coming to read him the legal statements of execution. They are the usual charges. Blasphemy, desecration of the Sacred Instrument, defiance of the Heir, et cetera.

They don't even offer him a chance to say final words. They merely slice the binds, watching with joyous expressions as the body drops into the ocean. The murky and salt-thick water is shoved aside as a monolithic tentacle, dripping with pond scum, grabs up the body, and drags it underwater.

The clown army immediately begins whooping and shouting in victory, before letting out a resplendent chorus of honks, and marching back to the hills. Hah. I walk back to the Battlefield alone, in silence.

Meanwhile, Herobrine sinks into the depths, a tentacular form dragging him down. The pressure of the grime-esque slime upon his body fades in several moments. Looking around reveals that the tentacle has let go of him, for whatever reason. Regardless, it does not matter. He is far too deep down to rise once more, yet nowhere near the surface.

A click, audible even under the ocean pressure and lack of air, resounds through Herobrine's general position before he can act. The moving of small gears follows, along with the total blocking of any light from the sun above. The whirring of gears grows to silence, as what appears to be a rather broken music box of some sort begins to play a recording. This fits in quite well with the general theme here. A distorted dull green light shines from the broken music box, revealing the area around Herobrine.

Dozens of clown corpses float about in the water, remaining submerged, despite being dead. They appear to have either been sacrificial offerings, or criminals charged with execution, given their collective differences in garb. The recording plays an excerpt of what it once held in full.

SCRAAAAAAAAAAAAPE.
HONK.
honk.
HONK.
honk.
HONK.
honk.

This appears to play incessantly, repeating over and over again.

A tentacular form surrounds Herobrine, a beak grabbing hold of his neck.

Hours later, a fully-formed Herobrine rises to the shore, incredibly scarred. He washes up on a section of the cliffside containing a small cavern into the wall proper, the bottom of the thing filled with water. As his torn body floats into the cave, it is spotted by a hooded figure gutting fish with a sacrificial dagger. The being immediately grabs Herobrine, takes his dagger, and ascends a staircase dug into the side of the water-filled cavern.

The hooded being surfaces within a thick forest, likely miles away from the part of the cliff the clowns had tossed Herobrine off. They carry the body through the forest, until they reach a clearing, a thick circle of trees surrounding a bonfire, firewood piled high, manned by several other hooded men. A hooded figure turns around, looking in surprise at Herobrine's body, and the other hooded man.

CULTIST: Brother Maldregeth, what brings you here so early?

Maldregeth gestures to the body over his shoulder.

MALDREGETH: I have found a Near-Lifeless Subject, Brother Apelix.
APELIX: Really?
MALDREGETH: Indeed.
APELIX: This is excellent news. We must inform the others.

Apelix immediately calls the other five cultists over. Upon hearing the news, they immediately begin to prepare. Maldregeth sets to body down, and applies a number of wards to the surrounding area, to prevent escape.

An hour or so later, the cultists have built a makeshift altar before the blazing bonfire. They set Herobrine's body upon it, and form a circle around both it and the bonfire. They wait. Soon enough, another hooded figure enters the area, his crimson robes adorned with a number of golden symbols, likely to denote his status. He also appears to be wearing a large amount of voidmetal armor plating, and carries a voidmetal sword stained with blood. Immediately, all seven other cultists bow deeply, before lowering their hoods, revealing the heads of goats plastered to their own.

ALBERIC: You have obtained a Marked One without my aid?
ALBERIC: Impressive.
ALBERIC: Cumeah.

Praetor Alberic places his hands on the sides of the stone altar. Immediately, the goat-mask-wearing cultists begin to chant an incomprehensible phrase over and over again. Alberic draws the sword, and holds it directly above the Capricorn branded in Herobrine's chest. Alberic waits, and aligns his statement in with the rhythm of the chant.

ALBERIC: Cthk'aryvt fhtagn.

The cultists chant "Apertis Oculis" simultaneously, as if in response.

ALBERIC: Chna. Nhhhngror, crrrthna grah'nwza.
ALBERIC: Y'sll'ha ukhyoiikhu.

The cultists chant "Iä! Iä!" in response. Alberic stabs the blade directly through the Capricorn symbol, not stopping until the blade sinks into the stone effortlessly. He draws the blade from the body, and two cultists break the circle exactly as practiced, forcing the altar into the flames. Herobrine's body begins to burn away, and the cultists depart from the area, splitting apart.

Meanwhile, on the Battlefield, I carefully watch over a summoning circle and my person notes, waiting. Everything seems to be in order, and the circle is set. The clock ticks by. I sense the sudden release of energy from a ritual of the Crimson Cult hundreds of miles away. With a swift movement, I begin to chant.

TERMINALAUTOCRAT: Y'uln! Y'uln! Glaaki fm'latgh. Y'uln. Zhro.

I smash a beaker of some crimson fluid on the ground, and the burnt and heavily-scarred body of Herobrine appears in the circle, embers flying everywhere. I slide my foot across the circle, breaking it. Herobrine has returned.

NEW: Imperator 1/50 ////////////////////////////////////////////////////.

SYMBOLHIGHT: KANERA
HATCH NAME: CINAVI
ID: #41Ω-5082
POSITION: LAWYERVISCERATOR, (TEMP.) HIGH-GENERAL
CRIMINAL STATUS: N

To: KANERA, CINAVI
Regarding: PUBLIC INFORMATION REQUEST

Due to your apparently ceaseless attempts to be able to show the public private information on DIPLOMATIC CONFERENCE #1437-89, we have deemed it necessary to make some form of compromise.

You are henceforth permitted to share the logs of the conference. However, the persons with which you are able to do so have been RESTRICTED. The enclosed DIPLOMATIC LOG 1437-89B has been specifically tailored to share with the other beings within the jurisdiction of PROJECT 03082115 LEGISLATION only. Any attempts to share it with persons not involved will be met with swift punishment.

Your patience has not been appreciated.

Regards,
THE RESEARCH COMMITTEE

encl.

I pace around the metallic floor of Docking Bay 1431-C of the Grayholdian starship Mental Phthisis, nervously pulling at my right glove, part of the whole "ceremonial neophyte lawyerviscerator" garb. First impressions are quite the thing to maintain, are they not. An emaciated figure stands abnormally still several meters before me, staring at the gigantic doorway that will soon dock with Hangar Bay 876-B of Grayhold Citadel itself. I have only ever been here once, though I have certainly seen the maps.

CINAVI: Why are you just standing there?

CIRYATUR: It is an honor to be invited to the Citadel, and I do not intend to show any form of weakness whilst, before, or after I arrive.

CINAVI: Okay then...

The form turns to face me, dressed immaculately in what appears to be the standard garb of a Lord-Archmage in Erelyean times, despite… not actually being the Lord-Archmage in any way, shape, or form. Ciryatur, some title. Absolutely psychotic, obsessed with the secrets of ∆-timelines. My partner in this particular project. For whatever reason. The ship abruptly stops. I lurch forward slightly. Fleetdock. The light above the hangar door blinks red several times. A hiss radiates through the room, and the door slides down, revealing an expansive room of stone bricks practically emanating protective magics. Strangely enough, the room is pitch black, save for the occasional flicker of vis from the cracks between the bricks.

I glance at Ciryatur for a moment, and he takes several measured strides forward, entering the Citadel first. I take a step forward, before I am accosted violently. By which I mean I am getting pestered.

I sigh, and enter the hangar bay fully, shutting Trollian off. Peering inside, it appears as if the place is filled with docking starships, given that fleetdock was ordered.

A quick inspection of both my and Ciryatur's equipment reveals that we are indeed prepared. The sharp-eyed being folds his arms behind his back, and waits. I return to my state of somewhat nervous pacing. Hopefully, they actually come. I did send the invitations.

The space near Cinavi and Ciryatur begins to waver, before Crystal, clad in his normal clothes, steps out of thin air in his trademark universe-hop and looks around. His eyes settle on Ciryatur and I. “Aha, the welcoming party. I was told you would be here.” He looks at me. “Ah, you’re TA. It's been interesting working with you and against UserZero so far.” His eyes flick over to Ciryatur. “And you are the one who very recently joined a fight I less-recently left. Good luck in that session, you may well need it. Although I wouldn’t condone working with Richard normally, I’d say in this case there are… mitigating circumstances. Hah, both with us fighting UserZero and in that Incipisphere you have purview over. In any case, let’s just wait for the rest of the invitees. Then we can get started."

A completely normal block of obsidian tumbles out of the G.S.S. Mental Phthisis.

Meanwhile, the Golem pops into existence besides Crystal.

Golem: Who names a ship that anyways?

In typical dimensional-traveling fashion, a small distortion in reality occurs nearby in the hangar bay. Very briefly, a rift into the Immaterium opens. A spyglass into a realm of chaos. Out of that rift steps Bomber, dressed in his standard formal attire. He takes a moment to check a pocket watch, making sure he is roughly on time. It's hard to tell, considering it is so warped within the Immaterium. He wouldn't be surprised if he wound up two weeks before the meeting was scheduled!

Though, it would appear that fortune was on his side, as there were people awaiting him and what he would assume to be the other guests. Closing the rift behind him before anything nasty could escape (wouldn't make a good impression to have a group of mischevious Nurglings pour out and stink up the place) and made his way over to Ciryatur and I. He speaks to me first. "Greetings, I believe you would be TA? A pleasure to finally meet you. My name is Bomber." Bomber then would greet Ciryatur. "And I don't believe I have ever seen you before, but I am sure we will come to know each other quite well over the course of the meeting." Lastly, he turned to Crystal, who was one of the other guests. "I assume you are also one of the invitees. A pleasure to meet you, as well." Bomber extended a hand to Crystal, before mentally checking himself. "Oh, don't worry, this isn't any sort of a binding handshake, heh."

I watch Crystal appear, and nod at him as he mentions me.

CINAVI: Likewise. It's been... quite the endeavor so far.

Ciryatur walks over to Crystal, and I notice the obsidian block. I stare as it tumbles out of the docking bay. I immediately let out a small snort of laughter.

CINAVI: That was... in there the entire time, wasn't it. I would say I'm surprised... but I'm really not. Also, I don't know. Apparently, the guy who named these things flicked through a list of words he knew in his head, and picked two that sounded threatening together.

Meanwhile, Ciryatur stiffly utters a response to Crystal.

CIRYATUR: I am only present there to extract information, and go. There isn't much rhythm or rhyme to the place, as I'm sure you know.

Immediately upon Bomber's arrival, I nod in recognition, whilst Ciryatur... just sort of blinks once.

CINAVI: Cinavi Kanera.

CIRYATUR: I was not told my name was going to be relevant to this particular project.

I awkwardly stand in the small crowd of people, whilst my partner takes the lead.

CIRYATUR: Excellent. Transcendent, CEO--why the hell is there a cube of solid obsidian here.

CINAVI: That's highly offensive. Obsidian blocks are people too, you know, especially this one. This one is clearly a guest of honor and distinction amongst this meeting.

CIRYATUR: I see. Well then. Would you all like to begin with pleasantries, or just get straight into the actual thick of the meeting's purpose.

Crystal takes, shakes, and releases Bomber’s hand. “Good to know. Wouldn’t want to inadvertently get caught in a deal, after all.” A triangular blue tattoo on Crystal’s forehead, in the approximate position a third eye would be in, brightens for a second, and he looks mildly surprised. “

Huh. Did that somehow react to the mention of a deal..? Anyway, I think I’ll leave it up to the others to decide how to begin in this particular case."

The Golem notes Crystal's copy of Cipher's Call lighting up. But...

Golem: Shouldn't that be more of a brand? How is it blue, anyways?

Golem: I mean it's supposed to be alternatively purple crystal or a tattoo burned into your flesh. Don't really see how color happens.
Golem: Oh, right. ...I don't really care either way. Do as you will. Wait, what am I saying. I suck at pleasantries. Let's just get into it.

I glance over to Crystal and Bomber's handshake, eyes flicking down to look at the triangular mark burned into the palm of my right hand. It flickers slightly with a sinister blue light, and my eyes dart upward.

CINAVI: I think we should just get started, really.

CIRYATUR: Hmm. Interesting.

CIRYATUR: In that case, I suppose we will just go this way.

Ciryatur gestures to a small padlocked Arcane Door across the room from the main gate into Grayhold Citadel proper.

CIRYATUR: Well, we are all here because it is far easier to arrange business deals with each other in person.

CIRYATUR: It should also be of note that Command has requested an audience with a number of the most intelligent and powerful inhabitants of the evidently nameless server in Minecraftia, for reasons unknown.

I take the forefront once more, stepping in front of the grim being, quietly adding a statement to the end.

CINAVI: (i've got to be honest with you, I don't actually know what the people up top want with us. i'm not actually allowed into the main part of the throne room for this. only you guys are.)

Ciryatur grabs a small iron key from a pocket, and strides over to the Arcane Door. He sticks the key into the lock, and twists it several times, before pushing it in further once, and pulling it out entirely. Then, he pushes the door open, stepping to the side.

CIRYATUR: Gentlemen.

(A series of Thaumium Golems outfitted with Animation Core: Guard and full voidmetal plating carefully pick up the obsidian block, and take it into a room labelled "Inspection Chamber".)

Crystal enters the door. Bomber follows behind Crystal, entering the Arcane Door.

The Golem sort of... slides through the door? It's almost as if somebody was coding the universe, and forgot to stop people from spamming the directional keys to move funnily.

I enter through the doorway, Ciryatur taking a discreet look behind his field of vision before stepping inside, and quietly closing the door. I disregard the Golem's method of entry.

CIRYATUR: Alright. We shall be going to the throne room directly. If I recall correctly, you have, at the very least, seen this place before, mister Crystal?

Ciryatur takes a step forward, likely to get in front of everyone, but I beat him to it, moving in front of Crystal, Bomber, and the Golem. I wave for everyone to follow, and we travel down the abnormally straight corridor, passing by a number of doors of various shapes, sizes, and compositions. Reaching the end of the hall, I take the left fork, climbing up a set of stairs immediately off the fork.

We reach what appears to be a heavily-populated floor. People of all shapes and sizes are bustling about the monolithic chamber, most of which are clad in official military uniforms of varying styles, others in mere cloaks, ostensibly to make themselves obscure. The people all appear to be either elves, likely descended from the 200 granted to the former Lord-Archmage Kalare Erelye by the fallen Lord Engineer Amperzand during the Second Godmodding War. Curiously enough, the other half of the people seem to be trolls. Interesting. The remainder of the shapes are various types of work golems, most of which are bowed down by heavy loads. The noise in the room is practically deafening.

CINAVI: This way.

I lead a curved path through a number of people and into another staircase. Ciryatur takes the back, to assure that nobody gets lost. Suddenly, around halfway up the stairs, I press my hand against the wall. Amethyst runes flare to light in a cuboid pattern upon the wall, before sinking into the stairs, forming an opening.

CINAVI: Shortcut.

We walk through the tunnel, coming out in a dusty room lit by several bits of nitor floating in the air. I tear a cobweb out of my face with a hand, and press onwards, deigning not to look to either side of my face.

This is because there are approximately six bloodstained dissection tables on either end, each with a skeleton, slain by a number of possible means, of course. These things have likely been there for hundreds of years. The skeletons themselves are rather disfigured, possessing missing bones in specific places. Several have large bone growths on various parts of their body, likely mutations caused by esoteric sorcery. I begin to walk somewhat faster, pushing a door open with some difficulty.

We all step through, coming out in what appears to be a slightly better-kept library room, shelves towering at least thirty meters into the sky themselves. The books contained appear to range from volumes of arcane lore, to handwritten encounters with elder demons, to scraps of the long-lost Liber Ivonis. I climb up a ladder with abrupt swiftness, and push several books on a particular shelf to the side, punching a button hidden in the back of the construct before leaping to the ground deftly. Warded stone bricks are pulled back by pistons, and we all file through to the side of a massive rectangular greeting hall, meters away from what appears to be the actual, official entrance. Two massive gateway doors of some indeterminate substance lie at the other end of the room. I stride all the way to the other end.

CINAVI: This is it.

I look around at the others, and promptly knock on the door weakly.

There is no response, save what appears to be two distinct voices off in the distance.

CINAVI: So... um... should we just wait, or go in?

Golem: ...Why would we. Do you LIKE spying on others? ...Anyways, yeah let's wait.

"Yes, I vote we wait."

"Agreed, it would only be respectful if we wait." As he waited, Bomber played with a small ember that weaved between his fingers.

We wait for several minutes, just standing there. The two voices grow in intensity over time, as if they had been whispering initially. Soon enough, the somewhat quiet voices are reverberating around the likely massive vaulted chamber.


???: --id not think it would be necessary. The ring map, along with its surrounding material, was to remain sealed away.
???: THE RING MAP IS REQUIRED FOR THIS PARTICULAR TASK. YOU KNOW THIS.
???: Of course I know it, but it was to remain obscure.
???: IT WAS LAUGHABLY EASY TO ACCESS.
???: Was your efficacy hindered in any way by not unearthing it, or the idea?
???: IT WAS NECESSARY TO THE COURSE OF THE PROJECT, EMISSARY.
???: Perhaps the entire project itself was a poor decision. If you manage to do this properly, the cosmic drawback will be unfathomable.
???: ENOUGH. YOU HAVE OVERREACTED.
???: I think not. Regardless, I must be on my way.
???: VERY WELL. THOUGH, I MUST REMIND YOU.
???:
???: ...
???: IT WOULD BE BEST IF YOU LEFT NOW. MY GUESTS HAVE ARRIVED, AND HAVE LIKELY HEARD A SIZABLE PORTION OF OUR CONVERSATION. THESE HALLS ARE SUSCEPTIBLE TO EAVESDROPPING.
???: Very well. I'll be watching you, demon.

The sound of something sliding into the floor reverberates around the room, audible even to those outside. A voice echoes across the throne room, addressing us.

???: WELCOME. YOU MAY ENTER.

The massive doors swing on their hinges, dark gray smoke emanating off of their faces, flipside. The room is long, empty, and cavernous, easily over a hundred meters tall, and lit by approximately two things. The first, what appears to be a holographic projector of some sort sliding into the ground, the top emanating the occasional spark of maroon energy, some sort of… 7-Ball plugged into the side. The thing slides into the floor, and is covered by metallic plates moments before we enter.

The other thing in the room emanating light comes from the furthest end of the room, on the opposite wall, as well as bits of the side walls. Small slits have been sliced into the brick, and the undulating energies of Nihil Parva flicker dimly through them. In the absolute center of the back wall, there is a perfect circle made of glass inset some distance above the ground. Pure vis radiates madly behind the window into the dimension itself. The circle itself is bordered by another shape, one that might seem familiar to most of the beings present in the room. It appears to be a glowing rich blue wheel divided into approximately twenty-eight segments, each filled with a certain symbol. Further within this, however, another ring more closely borders the window, this one instead divided into twenty segments, all adorned with a symbol of some sort. Two wheels interlocking off to the side are divided into ten and fifteen sections, respectively. The former is filled with symbols, the latter with circles of some sort. Odd.

I stand off to the side, watching the event unfold as everyone else walks across the room, toward the window. The circuitous and repetitive hiss and pump of what sounds like enough life support to make the Golden Throne seem like a glorified office-chair sounds across the room. An onyx and metallic throne comes into view, its top mere centimeters away from the bottom of the main wheel. A singular figure sits atop it, obscured by a strange lack of light. All you can see of them is what appears to be a metallic right leg, and their eyes; one robotic and red, the other a piercing violet which cuts through the darkness.

???: PLEASE, SIT. WE HAVE MUCH TO DISCUSS, GENTLEMEN.
???: WERE YOUR JOURNEYS HERE SATISFACTORY?

The group stops nearly halfway across the room at a long table with exactly four ornate chairs. Ciryatur does not yet sit, and I stare at everyone from the side of the room. The eyes of the form upon the throne shift to look at the main doors unblinkingly, almost expectantly.

"Indeed they were."
Crystal sits.

Golem: I got confiscated by security, but nevermind that. It was fine.

The Golem stands. Bomber nodded as he took a seat at the chair to the left of Crystal. "A fine journey indeed. Honestly, I am surprised I showed up on time. Traveling through the Immaterium can sometimes be... unpredictable."

"Oh, yes. The journey here was exquisite. Not that any of you accompanied me, of course." Everyone whips their heads in shock as a figure appears, sitting in a chair that wasn't there five seconds ago. The Scribe looks up at the group of people near the table, dusting off some stray fires on his jacket. "I apologize for the lateness, but I needed to take care of something. The Scribe takes out a crystalline case with a leaking pen inside. "I trust you understand."

The Scribe takes out a piece of flint and steel, lighting it and creating some flame. He snaps his fingers, and the flame jumps in the air, resting on his finger. The flame starts to change colors, and the Scribe creates dazzling patterns with it by tracing his hand through the air. Eventually, he creates a helical pattern made of twelve equilateral sections. "Who am I kidding? Getting here was a nightmare. I was forced to trace my own path here, heading across pocket dimension after pocket dimension until I found some form of teleportation that could jump me all the way here with minimal injuries. Anyway..."

Waving his hand, the Scribe causes the wheel to spin erratically, symbols of many shapes and kinds forming in its sections, a different one flashing by every second. "If this wheel is distracting to you, then say the word. I'm a sucker for symbolism, so I like to keep this around to catalogue all the symbols you find. You know. Runes. Tetrominoes. Languages. Ciphers. Symbols. That sort of thing. But otherwise, thank you for... inviting me to this thing. Please, continue."

The figure upon the throne nods at Crystal and Bomber, before turning to the Golem.

???: EXCELLENT. MISTER GOLEM, YOU SHALL BE PRESENTED WITH YOUR OBSIDIAN BLOCK ON YOUR WAY OUT.

The second the Scribe finishes talking, the master of the Citadel lets out a quiet, ungodly laugh, a mixture between metal scraping metal, something a certain demonic puppet sprite might do, and another hint of something one person at the table might recognize, encoded in its wavelengths. I, on the other hand, am too busy fuming in a corner at the Scribe's arrival. Ciryatur nods, and finally sits down, having finally received all of the guests.

???: YOU HAVE BEEN FORGIVEN.
???: I WAS UNDER THE IMPRESSION THAT TRAVEL HERE WAS REMARKABLY SIMPLE, GIVEN THE FACT THAT FORCING ONESELF THROUGH AN ENERGIZED NODE WITH THE PRECISE CALIBRATIONS NEEDED REQUIRES LITTLE PLANNING.
???: REGARDLESS, ALL ARE PRESENT.

The set of four wheels on the wall behind the throne appears to glow a little brighter, but perhaps it is merely the imaginations of all in the room acting up.

The probable-Lord-Archmage raises his left hand slightly, revealing the palm. The darkness in the room would ordinarily make this impossible to see, if not for the fact that there was a perfectly triangular shape emitting moderate amounts of blue light upon it.

???: COGITATIO SUPRA OMNES; COGITATIO SUPRA OCULUM, GENTLEMEN.

Every Cipher's Call in the room lights up, including mine.

???: SERENDIPITOUS EVENTS HAVE EVIDENTLY BROUGHT SO MANY OF YOU HERE. WE HAVE MUCH TO DISCUSS.

The Lord-Archmage lowers his hand, Cipher's Call still glowing upon it.

???: PLEASE, DO TELL ME. WHAT IS IT THAT YOU DESIRE FROM THIS?
???: WHY DO YOU THINK YOU ARE HERE.

Bomber was quite surprised by the appearance of The Scribe. This meeting got just that much more interesting. It would seem that Bomber was the first to answer. He leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on the table and his fingers locked together.

"I will begin by saying how I am honored to attend this event, and I thank you for inviting me. I am Bomber, CEO of a company known as Hellco. We specialize in several things, such as manufacturing of weapons, magical artifacts, as well as trade between dimensions that could be described as infernal."

His eyes glowed at the word infernal.

"Indeed, we work in occult things. The corporation hides my true motives, to say the least. I would prefer that some of my clientele go about their lives unknowing of this information. Word spreads quickly, no matter how tight your grasp on some people is."

Bomber then produced a bottle of red wine from somewhere and then poured himself a glass. After taking a sip, he left it on the table and silently offered to pour any of the others a glass. He then continued.

"I believe we have all been called here today (or whatever time-equivalent) to discuss formation of a coalition. Personally, I have my own machinations to advance here, as do you and the other participants. Collaboration would most likely advance all of them. I will further state that I have ideas that, if we cooperate on their execution, would be devastating to UserZero and anyone who is so foolish to stand in our way. Why, the proof is in the metaphorical pudding. We have each seen what each of us have accomplished on the server so far, which I assume is merely a portion of each of our powers. It would only be beneficial to all of our goals if we work together."

Crystal sits up. “I suppose this is the point where we introduce ourselves for anyone who needs the information. Hello to everyone here, and thank you for the invitation. I am Crystal, universal traveler and transcendent. I have traveled the myriad universes for approximately ten millennia, accruing knowledge, magical power, and various items of significance as I go."

He spreads his hands apart, and flickers of items brought in and out of hammerspace flash through them.

“And as to anyone who wonders how I have lived as long as I claim, I long ago came across a loose, small organization of those such as myself who could travel through universes naturally. One of its members had, long ago, came across a recipe for a potion of agelessness. Not true immortality, but living in youth until killed. Sadly, the organization was dissolved, or, rather, destroyed by something, many centuries ago.”

A small piece of paper covered in crabbed scribbles flickers between his hands for the briefest of seconds.

“I was able to salvage some things, though… As for why we are here, well, I personally had the same impression as Bomber. That is, the forming of a coalition. Some form of alliance would be wonderful; we can certainly combine forces and leverage our combined capabilities to astonishing effect. I was quite interested in an exchange of research and technology as well, myself. Knowledge is always useful - after all, knowledge is power. Other than that, we're here because powerful, pervasive reality-manipulating forces beyond both our control and most beings' knowledge have sent us here in order to speak with each other using us as mouthpieces. But that's completely irrelevant in this case, so I'm simply here for a meeting of the most intelligent and knowledgeable people involved in the war against UserZero so far."

Golem: Greetings and salutations, everyone. Nevermind the redundancy. I am simply referred to as the Golem. This appears to be a regrettable side effect of my status as an Ancestor. Don't ask how that manages to prevent me from having a real name, I don't claim to understand it. Plus it's just more convenient to not have a name. Wizards can't get to you with name magic, you don't have to put up with people mispronouncing your name... Anyways, I was created sometime in the aftermath of the Psi-Godmodder War, after some idiot decided it would be a good idea to loot the castle. It might have been a good idea to any of us, if you hadn't had a ceiling come alive and try to crush you before. ...I wasn't that ceiling. I was a block of obsidian that got dislodged in the attack. Some wizard or another came by and brought me to life. Might have even been... ...I'm getting off track. I'm just here to sit in on the conversation, possibly engage in pointless anachronism. Honestly I'd say Crystal had the right idea, if I didn't know that I (BIFURCATE I[I,I]) was going to get depowered. Plus it's just a good idea to avoid unnecessary time travel. ...Anyways, yeah. Coalition. Possibly a certain group formed in past's future, but that was mostly a joke? Anyways, I'm just here to see what happens.

The Scribe waits carefully before responding. "What do I desire from this? Well... I think what I'm looking to get from this is knowledge, power, and friends. Three things you can't get very far in life without. If you don't know what's going on, the world will turn against you in your naiveté. If you're not powerful on some form, you won't command attention. If you don't make the right friends in the right places, then you won't have people to call upon in times of need. I see all three of these things here. So, to be truthful... I'm very interested in seeing how this meetup plays out.

"As for what I think we are here for... I believe the others cleared it up very well. I think a proper alliance is in order. And after all, the best alliances are the ones forged in secret. The ones that only those who take part in it know." The Scribe grins, flips to a page with empty space in his journal, and begins writing down symbols and words he sees in the chamber.

The Lord-Archmage begins with Bomber, listening to his response.

???: THE FORMATION OF A COALITION IS ESSENTIALLY THE PRIMARY OBJECTIVE IN THIS MEETING, YES.
???: EXPLAIN PRECISELY WHAT TYPE OF OCCULT "THING" YOU WORK IN, IF YOU WILL. WE CANNOT ESTABLISH SOME SORT OF TRADE IF I CANNOT DETERMINE WHAT YOU DESIRE MOST, AND WHAT WOULD BE MOST BENEFICIAL TO US BOTH. HAH.

Then, the figure appears to turn to face Crystal, robotic red eye blinking several times with multicolored light.

???: AH, YES. THE PREMISE OF TRANSCENDENCY HAS PROVEN QUITE... FASCINATING, TO SAY THE LEAST.
???: YOU WISH FOR A RESEARCH AGREEMENT? THAT CAN BE DISCUSSED. THERE IS ALWAYS MORE TO LEARN, AND MY RESOURCES ARE VECORDIOUSLY PRODIGIOUS.

Next, the Golem.

???: HAH. I FIND IT PRUDENT NEVER TO STATE MY NAME, OF COURSE.
???: AS FOR THE LAST ITEM OF YOUR DISCUSSION, YES. THAT WAS THE INTENTION, AND YES, IT WAS IN THE PAST'S FUTURE, FROM YOUR PERSPECTIVE.

Finally, the Lord-Archmage looks over to the Scribe.

???: YOU SPEAK THE TRUTH. ALLIES, POWER, AND KNOWLEDGE ARE, QUITE FRANKLY, THE MAIN CURRENCY OF THIS METAPHORICAL ECONOMY OF WAR.
???: AN ALLIANCE IS INDEED IN ORDER, AS WAS AFOREMENTIONED. SEVERAL OF YOU WILL NEED TO BE PRESENTED WITH SOMETHING FOR THAT, OF COURSE. BUT, FIRST…

The Lord-Archmage once again raises his left hand. The triangle glows indigo once more, and random sections on the four wheels begins flashing, pulsating, and spinning. The wheels circling the windows begin to spin, each of the equilateral sections flashing a different color. The outer circle bordering the window in particular flashes the most, several symbols becoming quite prominent. Namely, an aquamarine spirograph, a violet hand of some sort, a maroon symbol of some sort that flashes off to the side (appearing to not yet be present upon the thing), an amethyst pair of goggles with cracked lenses, and a red pair of glasses flashing green.

Mere moments later, this circle morphs into something else, cut into twelve sections with very specific symbols. The entire circle shifts, and, next thing everyone knows, everything is back to how it was mere seconds ago, before the wheels started acting up. Waves of acheronian energy seem to instantaneously extinguish the light of the wheels.

???: HAH. SHALL WE BEGIN NEGOTIATIONS AND RAPPROCHEMENT?

Without waiting for much of a response, the doors to the front open, and a pair of animate clay golems marching in unison come forth. They stop at the side of the table. The first pulls out an obsidian block out of the crate in its hands (which its compatriot does not possess), which it tosses to the Golem, before exiting the chamber. Some sort of maroon-colored sphere drops out of the crate near halfway back to the door, which the golem in question ignores. The Lord-Archmage grins slightly. While you can not see it, you can certainly feel it. The other golem's eyes glint with a resplendent blue light. The being levitates into the air, achromic runes appearing upon its body without cease. Thick violet imbrues the air, and the golem drops to the floor, before making swift egress. In its place are exactly three floating incalescent indigo triangles composed of some sort of implacable crystal. Hah. I look back to Cipher's Call upon my right hand for the briefest of moments.

???: NOW COMES THE TRUE THESICLE. DO THOSE WHO DO NOT POSSESS THE ITEM AT HAND KNOW HOW TO UTILIZE IT?
???: WE SHALL SEE.

The Golem takes the crystal, spinning it contemplatively.
Golem: I have so many questions about this... but honestly they're completely irrelevant, and mostly consist of criticisms of the logical implications that its structure entails. That's not exactly a scintillating conversation topic.
He casually burns it into his left hand, then turns his attention to the block of obsidian currently at his feet.
Golem: Oh right. Myself. Well, I certainly hope none of my highly illicit leftovers from my Descendant's interactions with the former Lord-Archmage were confiscated. Oh who am I kidding, they probably were. Good thing they were just model versions.

"Well, if you would really like to know, I primarily serve a group of clients known as the Chaos Gods. They reside in the Immaterium, or what is known to many as The Warp. Their primary activity is in one universe, or perhaps it could be considered a time period, known as the 41st Millenium. I had contacted them long ago, presenting my interest in collaborating with them, provided they give something in return. I am not like many of their followers; the mortals who have lost hope, who have lost sight of what truly matters to them, who have gone too deep into the darkness. I am beyond that, and perhaps could be seen on a level that is nearly equal to their power. But I digress."

Bomber stands up and waves his hand through the air. A blue flame lights itself, and within the flame is a symbol.

"This mark is the symbol of who I primarily work with. Tzeentch, the Changer of Ways. He is an embodiment of ambition, magic; the drive to improve oneself. Likewise, in a more positive light, he represents hope."

The next symbol appeared from a cloud of black flies. Bomber seemed a little disgusted when he summoned this one.

"This one belongs to Nurgle, the Lord of Decay. He is the antithesis of Tzeentch, representing acceptance of one's fate (on top of the obvious). I work with him the least, understandably. He is rather interesting, in that he treats all of his followers and daemons as his children. They even refer to him as "Papa Nurgle" for that matter. "

Bomber moved on. This time a raging fire appeared, unlike the arcane fire from before.

"Khorne, the Blood God. The embodiment of war, violence, and bloodshed. Understandably he would be quite powerful in a dimension where war and conflict is extremely prevalent. In a more positive light, there is some level of honor to him, as he strays from targeting the weak or helpless, seeing them as unworthy of his wrath. He, uh, despises sorcerers."

Clearing his throat after that one, he moved onto the last one. This symbol came with a sickeningly sweet fragrance.

"All of them derive their power from the emotions of mortals. And so, I saw an opportunity. I have the ability to extend their reach beyond their own dimension, and with more races to corrupt the more powerful they become. I have worked with other such dark beings before, but the Chaos Powers are currently my most important clientele."

Bomber grabs the crystal, briefly examining it.

"Indeed, I believe I can share their secrets with you, as well as some of my own knowledge I have acquired. Likewise, I would benefit greatly if you exchange some of your own with mine. Hellco. has put research into other dark magics, such as necromancy, flesh-shaping, and demonology."

He raises the crystal up to his right eye, which, with his confusing biology, was similar to a goggle lens; or perhaps a view-port of sorts. Bomber burned Cipher's Call into his right eye. It certainly caused him a bit of pain, but it wasn't anything he couldn't bear.

"I believe that can be considered a sufficient explanation of what I have to offer, yes?"

Crystal walks over and picks up the maroon sphere, and examines it, revealing it to be a Magic 7-Ball. "Hmm. I remember hearing about these. "Various reports about people of varying credibility claiming to have found them have shown that people who obtain them eventually grow exponentially in arcane power, for whatever reason, though nobody knows where they are, or where they come from." Sounds exactly right. I think I'll keep this. More magic is always useful."
He returns to his seat. Seeing as he already has a Cipher's Call, he simply ignites his copy into indigo flame for a second, before extinguishing it.

The Scribe looks at the symbols in apparent awe. "Spirograph... Schemer's Mark... Cracked Goggles... Red Glasses." The Scribe stops, lost in thought. "I've seen these before, but uncommonly. It's those twelve you showed afterwards that really strike a chord with me. I believe they represent those who fought in the war before our own... But anyway, none of you came here to listen to me monologue about the importance of history... Although it would be a good idea."

The Scribe reaches over and examines Cipher's Call's two-dimensional frame. "What kind of an object is this...? A completely flat pyramid that projects images on its surface? This is peculiar, to say the least. But you have it here for a reason, so I suppose I'll be taking one." The Scribe grabs a copy of Cipher's Call and turns its surface over, puzzled. "Now what do I do with OH GOD" The Scribe grimaces as smoke curls from his skin, his coat in tatters as the image of an indigo triangle burns itself into the skin on his upper left arm. "...That hurt. Hopefully it was worth the pain."

The purple eye of the sorcerer atop the Onyx Throne burns more brightly the second the Golem mentions the former Lord-Archmage.

???: FOR ALL YOU KNOW, THAT IS NOT THE ORIGINAL COPY OF THAT BLOCK, AND WE HAVE REPLACED IT FOR THE PRECISE REASONS YOU JUST MENTIONED.

The second Bomber begins talking, a perfectly straight square composed of gray energies cut into four equilateral sides pops into existence somewhere between the window and the table. As Bomber informs everyone of the Chaos Gods, their symbols appear in the separate sections of the square. When he finishes, it disappears with the others. The outer wheel bordering the window is suddenly changed as a glowing maroon symbol forces itself into the fray the moment Bomber adorns Cipher's Call. The Schemer's Mark joins its twenty-eight brethren.

???: IT WAS AS SUFFICIENT AS YOU INTENDED IT TO BE, I ASSURE YOU.
???: ALLOW ME.

A crack resounds through the vaulted chamber, and a set of files appears before both the Golem, and Bomber. They are labeled "Project Imperator".

The second Crystal rises, and takes the maroon sphere, the sense of the grin you all got from the Lord-Archmage intensifies drastically. The moment he begins speaking the quote, the wheels spin into action, the Lord-Archmage's purple eye beginning to emit amethyst vapors, of a sort. The image of the goggles with the cracked lenses on the outer circle bordering the window lights up with amethyst light, as does the Heretic's Mark on the first of the two interlocking wheels.

The moment the Scribe mentions "the war before our own", a cobalt psi briefly pops into existence in the midst of the chamber, before disappearing. Once the Scribe burns the indigo tattoo onto his flesh, all seven Cipher's Calls in the room flash with indigo light for a moment, before fading once more.

???: THERE ARE APPROXIMATELY TWELVE TONS OF BOOKS AWAITING YOU ON THE WAY OUT, MISTER SCRIBE. I TRUST YOU WILL BE ABLE TO TRANSPORT THEM.
???: NOW, WE MUST INITIATE SOME SORT OF TRADE OF USEFUL ITEMS, OR PERHAPS INFORMATION, AMONGST OURSELVES TO PROVE THAT WE DO INDEED HAVE SOMETHING TO OFFER, AND BE ON OUR WAYS. ASK QUESTIONS AMONGST OURSELVES IF WE HAVE THEM, AND SUCH.

Bomber looks through the files labeled "Project Imperator". After a few moments of flipping through the files, a grin spreads across his face. Everything within the document looked very promising. Yes, this was precisely what they needed.

"I should be able to provide the funding and construction of the titan, while you gather reagents and prepare the ritual for summoning the Grand Chef Triumvirate. An excellent plan indeed."

As for trading, Bomber had one thing in mind right now. He then produced a blue tome from somewhere. It never held one appearance for long, constantly changing in texture, material, and color. The center of the cover had a familiar symbol that identified it as The Book of Tzeentch.

"The Book of Tzeentch holds a substantial amount of knowledge pertaining to the Warp; Tzeentchian daemons and spells in particular. I can provide you with a copy in exchange for knowledge of your own. In return, a history of Grayhold, The Thaumonomicon, and a compilation of your research would be an acceptable trade."

Bomber made his way over to The Scribe.

"Is there any chance you happen to know the properties of this dimension's boundaries? Things such as the, let's call it "permeability" of the dimensional wall and things that could weaken it. I feel you would be quite savvy on the subject."

Ciryatur looks over to the Scribe. He pulls out an ancient sheet of paper, at least half a millennium old.

CIRYATUR: I've been looking through the databanks and the archives for quite a while now, and I found this under things discovered in ancient times. It was tagged with "Limbo" and "Scribe".

CIRYATUR: Do you know anything about it?

Ciryatur shows the Scribe the front side of the page.

Ciryatur waits for the Scribe to finish reading the page, and then flips it over silently. The back is essentially coated in amethyst ink in the form of thin and spidery handwriting.

Ancient Transcript

Whilst the two of them discuss whatever it is they happen to find interesting on the paper, the Lord-Archmage looks over to Bomber.

???: SUCH A TRADE IS REMARKABLY SIMPLE.

Suddenly, a ring of runes forms in the air before Bomber. It spins about, letting off the occasional spark of gray energy. In moments, the ring appears to be practically pulsating with pure knowledge. There is a flash, and a fully-filled out Thaumonomicon drops onto the table, centimeters away from Bomber. Moments later, a golem enters the room, and hands Bomber a book entitled Parma i Istarion, and a book on Grayholdian history. The smoldering amethyst eye and the precise robotic one turn to face me.

CINAVI: Is there a problem?

???: I KNOW YOU HAVE MULTIPLE COPIES OF THE I HÚNA PARMA. IN FACT, I KNOW YOU HAVE MULTIPLE ON YOURSELF AT THIS VERY MOMENT.

CINAVI: ...

???: GIVE THE MAN ONE.

I reluctantly walk out of the corner, and hand Bomber a copy of the Accursed Book.

CINAVI: Good luck with this thing. Half of it's encrypted, and the other half is in Quenya. It took me a month to decipher everything.

CINAVI: The only reason I kept trying was because the author is so amazing. Hmm. Perhaps you've heard of him.

???: HAH. HE IS NOT NEARLY AS GREAT AS YOU PROFESS HIM TO BE. FAR LESS, IN FACT.

As I walk away, Bomber gets the sense that that wasn't nearly all of the research in the facility, by any meaning of the word.

Crystal takes out a small notebook, his hands glow for a second, and there are two of the book. He slides one across the table to the Lord-Archmage. “That’s a small compendium of all the research I’ve done on board my ship since the end of the previous war for me. In there are several ways to merge disparate magic systems, including one simple way I discovered - mixing Salis Mundus, along with some specific aspects of essentia, with Void Putty seems to allow it to blend and bind multiple different things as well as repair one. Apart from being a wonderful glue, this also allows an easy mixing of different types and systems of magic through blending items from one tradition with another. I’ve already made some wonderful breakthroughs with the aid of this and other things. As well, I’ve made some breakthroughs in regular areas of magic - for example, safe Imbued Fire. Break one talisman and the fire shuts down, or make several enchanted items and place them to delineate the boundaries of where it’ll spread. Which was useful for… ah, never mind. Another thing I figured out was merging the four ‘major’ Minecraft systems of magic into one way to make essentia physically active and stable - it requires a heavily-modified Seroconverter, one jar of essentia, one full mana tablet, 50,000 LP, and a fully capacity-upgraded, but empty, Witchery brew. If you add effects to the brew, the resulting mix will be usable as a potion, assuming matching effects to essentia. For example, Health Boost would be matched to Victus. If no effects are added to the brew, the resulting liquid will be matched to the essentia and still be usable as a potion, just of less potency - for example, Venenum would become an insanely strong poison, Tutamen would fortify anything it was poured onto or strengthen the drinker’s skin, et cetera."

He takes out another, rather larger, book and duplicates it in the same way, before sliding it over as well.

“And that’s a rather larger compendium, originally written in case I forgot, of what I consider the most interesting magical knowledge I’ve learned in my travels. Included in there is the knowledge of how to build Devices from the universe of Nanoha, a list of spells from Mahou Sensei Negima, and a whole bunch of other things, as well as a summary of what I've learned overall. If you're interested by any of the summaries, I can of course give you the full book of information on that. As for any magical items or alchemies I may have, request any that I indeed own and I can likely copy one for you given enough time - the Alchemiter is a wonderful machine, especially when augmented by a pair of Origin Wands like I have back in my ship. Now, of course, I'd be interested in any research or technology you can provide in return.”

The Golem digs through their inventory for a while, then pulls out a book and a tablet.

Golem: I believe that Kalare never bothered to pick up a copy of one of these books, and the other he'd have been incapable of obtaining. The first is the Ancestor Parable, and the second is just logs on everything that Psi ever did, as well as digital copies of his entire library. He probably wrote some interesting things in his time.

The Golem then picks up the dossier, then flips through it disinterestedly and discards it over their shoulder.

Golem: Well then, now that I'm done reading through that literally nothing that my mind can't be bothered to fill in, I suppose we'll be making that thing after Cinavi wraps up their next charge?

Regardless of the answer, the Golem turns to the Scribe.

Golem: I just remembered something. Scribe, are you aware of any reasons that roses would be subject to some strange universal ban, resulting in their glitching out of existence? I hear that they stop being creatable sometime in the past-future.

"...Twelve tons? Well, that's certainly a hefty pile of books, but it's nothing I can't handle. You don't want to know what goes on inside of this coat." The Scribe chuckles to himself until Bomber approaches and talks to him. "The permeability of dimensional walls... You're in luck. I happen to be fairly savvy on the subject, just as you predicted. Come here, and let's have a talk." The Scribe opens his Journal to a display of several diagrams that appear to depict spheres of various sizes.

"To understand all this, we have to think of universes and dimensions not as immense and incomprehensible planes of spacetime, but as bubbles floating in the abyss of the Void. To the vastness of the Void, a universe is just a sphere wandering around empty space. If a bubble gets closer to another bubble, an occurrence which rarely happens, travel between the two bubbles would theoretically be much easier the closer the bubbles got. In a virtually perfect reality, when two bubbles got close enough that they could touch, the two universes would be practically free to coexist amongst each other. Unfortunately, we don't live in a perfect reality. We're stuck with this."

The Scribe points to a diagram of a circle encased in a jagged and wavy substance. "Universes aren't exactly like bubbles in the sense that they're not perfect spheres. The barriers that universes project to keep track of their boundaries have different sizes, lengths, and heights depending on exactly where you are outside of them. Make no mistake, universes are massive, and the geography of universal barriers is quite a difficult subject to fully swallow. But I'll try to do my best." The Scribe points to another diagram with a jagged plane and a flat plane, with an arrow pointing to either one. Hastily scribbled writing is situated around the diagram.

"Let's see what I've written here... My research, however negligible it may be, has come to the conclusion that universal barriers are a construct of trickery. One portion of a barrier may be as treacherous as a mountain range, and another may be flat as a board. The smaller and shallower a portion of the barrier is, the easier it will be to pass through directly. The larger it is, however, the harder it will be. Shortcuts are inevitable, seeing as how there's got to be some degree of empty space. ...Right?" The Scribe taps his fingers on the table. "So, as you can see, one section of a barrier can be easier to pass through than another. Which brings me to this point."

The Scribe flips to the exact center of the Journal. It is an incomplete diagram of a massive machine made of various geometric shapes with a large amount of writing, imagery, and symbolism spread throughout. "I've been making scattered plans for some sort of device that can exploit the nature of universal barriers. It would pinpoint a weak point in a universal barrier, a spot easily passed through, and effectively punch a hole through it to allow instant access. If you're looking to diminish a universal barrier yourself and allow two bubbles to touch, like in a perfect reality, one forged from chaos and destruction... Then you might want to take my advice."

The Scribe shuts the Journal. "Just know that my plans are completely conceptual. I've never found the machinery or the willpower to get the project off the ground. Although, now that I've found myself in the company of all of you, that could change..." The Scribe then turns to Ciryatur.

"Haha, oh yes! I remember those pages. They're a fairly recent addition to this Journal, just let me find them... Here." The Scribe turns to the far end of the Journal, where you can quite clearly see the page in question, exactly how it is on Ciryatur's.

"Yes, the Red Dragon is quite the powerful being, make no mistake about it. But the Dreiton was decommissioned years ago, right after the war's end. Every government in the universe agreed it was too powerful a weapon to use under any circumstance. As for the other two sections of text, I..." The Scribe shifts his gaze. "I have no comment."

When the Scribe reads the other side of Ciryatur's paper, his blood runs cold. "These mutterings... What are you talking about? Those aren't mutterings! And I know full well where those were discovered! You don't remember Kyoto?" The Scribe flips through the Journal, turning to a page labelled with "Kyoto" that depicts a desolate landscape.

"It was a simple village, untouched by the modern reaches of time. Nothing of any consequence at all had happened there, until one day, several years ago. A simple fight between a band of Humans that traveled there on a quest ultimately became the start of the Great War itself. The War between Humans and Testificates... the one that marked the end of the Beta Age and marked the beginning of the Official Age. Official representing the Officials, the elected government of Humans that separated Humans and Testificates once and for all, obviously.

"Kyoto was destroyed by the carnage, and it was only several years into the war that it was rebuilt. But something terrible was discovered under the town's church, something that was rumored to have started the original fight between the Humans and Testificates in the first place. Someone had attempted to summon Him down there, knowing that He was locked in the Ender Matrix anyway. No one has any way of knowing if that fool succeeded, but we know that someone died down there - and before they did, they wrote those messages - the ones on that paper - in blood. Countless photographs were taken of the ghost town and the horrors below it, and the fate of the photographers... Well, a story for another time. Perhaps in a few days, when the mood is grim enough that I could tell a proper ghost story."

The Scribe looks at Ciryatur's paper with a general sense of unease. "How you found those lines of text peculiar when they're a generally accepted artifact of history is odd to me. Unless the prophecy they speak of... will actually come true?" The Scribe's expression darkens, and he then turns away. "No. The Eclipse... whatever it is... is foolish by nature. The end of the world is a near-impossibility. Not with creation on our side. And any of you timehoppers, those who have seen the future... Don't correct me if I'm wrong. Knowing about the future can have a terrible cost. One will try to prevent it - and then, only madness awaits."

Lastly, the Scribe turns to the Golem. "Roses? Not able to be created?" The Scribe laughs immensely. "Now I know you're screwing with me. Roses are a universal constant. Removing roses would be as fundamental as removing gravity. And gravity can't fall, ergo, roses can't either. Simple as that."

The Scribe pauses and lowers his head. "Now, it's time to show you what I have to offer." The Scribe's goggles glow, and a series of five weapons appear on the table. "Here are five legendary artifacts I have acquired on my travels. May they be of use to you." The Scribe describes each artifact in turn.

"To the Golem, I give the Infinity Gauntlet. Legend tells of a golden gauntlet that has the power to unlock the abilities of every Elemental Plane at once and make itself known to only one being, the Chosen One. Personally, I think that's a massive lie, so I found a replica instead. It can be controlled telekinetically, and it amplifies the user's physical, magical, and mental abilities. It also gives you limited control over every Elemental Plane.

"To Bomber, I give Tzeentch's Medallion. Legend tells of an array of mystical artifacts left by the Chaos Gods in the hopes that unwary heroes would use their power and have their souls be consumed in malignant fire. Only the truly worthy can contain their abilities properly. I trust that you are one of those few. Activate it and your ambition will be increased tenfold, giving you a temporary state of enlightenment. You can attach it to other weapons or objects to have Tzeentch's powers consume and amplify them if you so desire.

"To Crystal, I give the Fearamid. Legend tells of a plane of existence so nightmarish none dare walk its tenebrous path. Personally, I've never been there myself, so I'd have no way of knowing. But occasionally, some of its artifacts can be recovered throughout universes. It's peculiar. It's like they were just deposited there through some unknown method, waiting to be picked up. This pyramid can act as a repository of pure arcane power which can be called upon in a time of need, bringing forth waves of chaos and madness to damage and stupify enemies. Also produces flashing lights and rave music.

"To Ciryatur, I give Daggergate and the Disruptor. Legend tells of a sword cursed by the misfortune of another long ago, whose deeds were sealed inside of cold steel so those who held his blade would know his corrupt antics. And legend tells of another sword used to smite those who were chained in place by the shackles of sin, a sword used to control evil.

"These swords work in tandem. Whoever holds Daggergate will be cursed with one hundred years of bad luck. Being made of mirror shards, it causes the actions of the being that wears it to invariably fail and/or backfire should it be used in combat. The Disruptor targets whoever wears Daggergate. Being forged from a purple homing crystal, it will instantly lock onto Daggergate's signal and attempt to break the sword, thereby disrupting the essence of whoever wears it and damaging them."

The Scribe bows. "I hope these can be of use."

The Lord-Archmage's eyes shine with a curious glint the moment Crystal begins talking about the merging of the dissimilar.

???: I MUST INFORM YOU THAT I AM OF THE OPINION THAT THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A CERTAIN MAGIC "SYSTEM". I BELIEVE SUCH A CONCEPT IS RIDICULOUS. ALL ARCANE ARTS ARE ONE. THEY ARE MERELY UTILIZED IN A MULTITUDE OF WAYS BY A NUMBER OF LIVING ORGANISMS, SUCH AS OURSELVES, TO ELICIT DIFFERED RESULTS.
???: REGARDLESS, YOUR CREATIVITY IN THE BLENDING OF IDEAS IS ADMIRABLE.

The two books that slide over fade away with a crackle of dark gray energy, immediately being stored away wherever it is such things go in the Citadel. The Lord-Archmage wordlessly snaps his fingers. A stack of tomes appears directly before Crystal.

???: THOSE ARE THE VAST MAJORITY OF MY PREDECESSOR'S BLUEPRINTS AND PLANS FOR A NUMBER OF ARCANE DEVICES AND TECHNOLOGIES. YOUR PREDILECTION TOWARD SUCH THINGS SHOULD SUIT THE IDEAS WITHIN. OR SO I WOULD HOPE. SAY THE WORD, AND I CAN PRESENT YOU WITH SOMETHING ELSE.

Next, the Golem's response. The cobalt psi appears once more, seeming to shift through the air eerily, and the cracked goggles and heretics' mark upon the wheels glow amethyst. The tablet and book glow dark gray, and warp off into some storage chamber or other some distance away. I shout a response to the final question from across the room.

CINAVI: That's the general idea!

Throughout the duration of the Scribe's explanation, a number of Unseen Scribes compressed into cubes affixed to the ceiling transcribe the entire lecture, and file it away, just in case. It cannot hurt to have another opinion on such a topic, especially given the importance of dimensional reactions in a realm such as Nihil Parva.

Ciryatur points to the page in his hands once more. Once again, the unseen record the Scribe's valuable information.

CIRYATUR: I generally find the text unusual due to the fact that later writings from the author mention the utter collapse and destruction of the village in which everything was found, along with their permanent disappearance mere months after.
CIRYATUR: Regardless, gsv wvvw rh wlmv, gsv gsivv zmxrvmg wizpvh yfirvw zmw tlmv. Whatever that means.

Ciryatur carefully takes Daggergate and the Disruptor, bowing in response to the Scribe.

CIRYATUR: I much appreciate the gifts. It is only courteous for you receive something of the sort as well.

A weapon materializes upon the table, directly before the Scribe. It appears to be a long suitcase, securely sealed with a number of latches. On the side, there appears to be another maroon orb of the same type as the one Crystal recently obtained. Hah.

CIRYATUR: This is the Sable Riftgrazer. Rename it if you want. This device's material was discovered in the ancient ruin of Palamath, mere hours before it was enveloped entirely in the Abyssal Fluid. I trust you are familiar with the story.
CIRYATUR: The artifact is powered by the depletion of liquid ink of whatever type into the core, wherein it shall be channeled, magnified, and formed into a projectile blot of darkness--which acts at least partially--as a rift into the primal well of the Inky Abyss, otherwise serving to amplify one's connection to the plane.
CIRYATUR: I thought you might find it useful, or perhaps amusing, given that its possible side effects include the occasional release of lesser ink behemoths into the world.

The Lord-Archmage waits for the trade amongst the players are project operatives to cease before speaking.

???: ARE THERE ANY FINAL REMARKS OR COMMENTS ANY OF YOU HARBOR AS OF THE PRESENT? IF SO, IT WOULD BE WISE TO SPEAK YOU MIND NOW. OTHERWISE, WE SHALL CLOSE THIS EVENT UP.
???: IT HAS BEEN A PLEASURE THUS FAR, I ASSURE YOU.

The Golem puts on the "Infinity Gauntlet", and takes out a d8 out, tossing it absentmindedly.
Golem: Ah, the feel of having something ridiculously powerful. Reminds me of endgames and alchemies, fusion and business deals. Or... "me"? Ugh, the Fifth Wall sucks. Anyways, thanks for the gauntlet.

Bomber took note on what The Scribe had said. It definitely sounded like it would be tough, but Bomber felt he could pull it off eventually. "Thank you, Scribe. This information will be quite useful."

It was a little puzzling at first how The Scribe had obtained an artifact of Tzeentch, but he decided to dismiss that though. The Scribe probably had his ways to find objects like these. Nonetheless, this would be an incredible tool to have in his arsenal. Bomber also thanked The Scribe for this.

Bomber felt he had done all he wanted at the meeting, unless some other opportunity arose. "I have no other final remarks, but I will say that it will be a pleasure working with all of you more in the future."

Crystal takes the Fearamid and turns it around in his hands, before it flickers and disappears, hammerspaced. "Thanks. As for the other thing, I feel happy to end here."

The Scribe thinks about what Ciryatur says. "That would match up with the accounts of the photographers. They were a research team sent to investigate the troubles of Kyoto. It was cursed after the spat between the Humans and Testificate that led to the Great War, you see. The town was destroyed, and the church was the only building left standing. When the team took pictures of what was under it, the entire village collapsed into a sinkhole. Any indication that a settlement had existed there at all had vanished.

"Yet, you say his permanent disappearance happened months after he recorded these words, and the researchers were executed only a week after they returned with their evidence. And the foreign terms he uses... enquier? I yestallon? That doesn't sound like anything a Testificate would say. It sounds like another language... Quenya, perhaps?" The Scribe ponders this. "Whoever wrote this letter... This 'Erelye'... Wasn't one of those photographers. Not to mention that foreign date. 2015? That's in the future! That's in the future, and that piece of paper is half a millennium old..."

The Scribe puts his head in his hands. "You know what? No. I'm not going to question this. I've had to deal with too many time shenanigans, and one of them was an encounter I've tried my hardest to forget. I don't care when that knowledge was obtained, I just know that it was, and it couldn't have been from Kyoto. Kyoto buried itself years ago, and whoever wrote that sounds like they had no knowledge of its existence. And that leads to a grim alternative - they found those words somewhere else. Someone had the gall to rewrite those words with perfect accuracy, most likely knowing their connotations..."

Knowing that he's most likely dealing with things he shouldn't, the Scribe stops thinking about it and accepts Ciryatur's gift. "Why thank you. I'll keep this one for the archives." The Scribe puts the Riftgrazer in his coat and then turns to the crowd. "Now, closing remarks. I believe I had a little speech planned for the occasion, where was it..." The Scribe checks his coat, finding a piece of paper. He clears his throat. "If we fail, then the whole world and all that we have known and cared for will sink into the abyss of a new dark age made more sinister, and perhaps more protracted, by
the lights of perverted science. Let us therefore brace ourselves to our duties, and so bear ourselves, that if Minecraftia last for a thousand years, we will still say, this was their finest hour."

The Scribe puts the piece of paper away and bows. "Thank you for your time."

Ciryatur nods.

CIRYATUR: That's definitively Quenya, yes.
CIRYATUR: It might have been in Grayholdian time, as well? The guy didn't ever make the determination between which. It was almost like he didn't know it existed. Schrodinger

The Lord-Archmage surveys everyone once more.

???: HAH.
???: NOBODY HAS QUESTIONS. EXCELLENT.
???: THESE TWO WILL SEE YOU OUT. I EAGERLY AWAIT THE BOONS OF OUR ALLIANCE.
???: I WOULD ATTEMPT SOME FORM OF SPEECH, BUT IT APPEARS THAT HAS ALREADY BEEN COVERED, LIKELY FAR MORE SUCCESSFULLY THAN MY ATTEMPT WOULD HAVE BEEN.
???: I CAN SAY NO MORE, SAVE ONE PHRASE. COGITATIO SUPRA OMNES; COGITATIO SUPRA OCULUM, AND SUCH. REMEMBER THEIR MESSAGE.
???: FAREWELL. I WOULD REASONABLY WAGER WE SHALL ALL SEE EACH OTHER SOON.
???: A REMINDER THAT THERE ARE TWELVE TONS OF ANCIENT LORE AWAITING YOU, SCRIBE.
???: IF, FOR WHATEVER REASON, ANY OF YOU DO NOT HAVE A METHOD OF SIMPLISTIC ESCAPE FROM THIS ENERGY PLANE, ASK, AND WE CAN FIGURE SOMETHING OUT.

Crystal walks back with Ciryatur and I, before fading away in his usual universe-jump. Bomber followed Ciryatur and I out of the room. He opened a small Warp rift, gave a quick wave farewell, and hopped in. The rift closed behind him, leaving behind a residual trail that soon faded. The Golem casually walks back onto the G.S.S. Mental Phthisis, before realizing that they have alternative means of transportation, and teleports back to the Battlefield.

"Oh, I'm sure I can manage. But thank you for the offer." The Scribe taps the twelve tons of books with his finger and they disappear, making a swirling sound as they presumably enter his inventory. He then positions himself near a shadow, salutes, and falls backwards. In the next moment, the Scribe is nowhere to be found.

(AUTHOR'S NOTE: As per Bomber's request, I am using his color in Pesterchum, instead of the color he has used thus far. It should also be of note that this occurred before Halloween, as to clear up reason for the Kyoto bit. As always, it was a pleasure to work with everyone involved in this project, and I hope to do things in the future with you all.)

I whip out a gun, and back Phantom Walker into a corner. "I'm warning you, don't make me shoot." and I shoot anyway 'cause yeah. Then I strap a bunch of dynamite to Mt. Ebott and blow it up.

Quote: 34/50

Computers getting hacked...: 22/50

Plot Stuff?

+2 to Twin.

=Turn One=

(11 / 20) R e m e m b e r m e , s o I m a y l i v e o n .

(26 / 40) Font Friend

+1 to Talist

+1 to Battlefury

=Action=

I decide to formulate the perfect plan to destroy Herobrine. I spend a few minutes making preparations; cloning Armistyxs, setting them up in brand new fancy ways, and end up building a devious rube-goldberg device to stomp Herobrine! The process is simple, and will go as follows; first, massive strands of meat will be fired over Herobrine, and a cage full of tigers will open. Herobrine will run away from the tigers (or be forcibly made to go where he'd run by an Armistyx Bot) onto a platform, where a massive anvil will fall on him! When he gets punched through the ground, he'll go through an underground gauntlet of saws, lasers and spicy peppers through his skin and pop onto the surface, centered on a massive target.

Meanwhile, the tigers are lured elsewhere by MORE MEAT; they go onto a pressure plate, firing an arrow from a dispenser at a wooden button! That button will trigger an array of Command Blocks, spawning a massive arrow above Herobrine which will then punch him into the ground! He'll then go back through the gauntlet of saws, lasers and spicy peppers, but he'll take a left turn and enter the fun area full of waterslides. Said waterslides are full of acid, and are lined with razor blades! When he finishes going through the waterslide, a spring will launch him out of a cave, back onto the surface, and into a massive pit of tigers. These tigers, realizing that Herobrine is still covered in meat from before, savagely rip into him, and then drag him off to the giant blender. Another spring will launch Herobrine into the blender, along with lemon juice, more spicy peppers, and lots more razor blades!

After massive irritation from the blades of the blender and lemon juices, the blender will pour Herobrine out into a break room, where he'll get to enjoy some delicious, non-healing spaghetti! However, he'll really need to use the washroom after eating it; so when he sits down on the provided toilet, it'll rocket into the air, Herobrine still stuck on the throne! The toilet will then morph into a nuclear bomb, fly straight down with Herobrine attached to the front, and fly downward and obliterate Herobrine in a massive explosion!

I then set my plan into action. Herobrine runs from the tigers / Armistyx bots, and everything works perfectly; the anvils, the spicy peppers, the arrow, the waterslides, the tigers and the toilet! As Herobrine flies up, attached to the toilet-now-nuke, something flies by, grabs Herobrine, and leaves the nuke to plummet down to the battlefield, sans Herobrine.

H e l l o .

The slaughter is instant; Herobrine is immediately flung through the air at Mach 20, then intercepted by the creature, then blasted backward with thousands of red scales, multiple getting stuck in his body. Said scales explode, leaving red marks on Herobrine's skin! The creature then flaps it's wings. Whatever has the marks is highly vulnerable to whatever happens next. A massive wheel appears, spinning and picking one of many judgments for poor Herobrine! It picks Timeshift, and the creature suddenly fades from sight, as a portal appears. Herobrine is flung through it, still being carried by the backwards force of the red scales!

Herobrine finds himself in the future; there's a party going on in the near distance, but some people down there are sleeping. Herobrine suddenly finds himself falling asleep, and awakens in a place with shattered glitched skies. A red figure simply stares at him.

cc: um, wha(t)?

cc: (t)his (c)an'(t) be for real. obviously.

cc: quo(t)e unquo(t)e friend, come deal wi(t)h goddamn "herobrine" over here.

A purple figure suddenly appears, manipulating the world around him into the shape of a giant dragon! The dragon tail-whips Herobrine into the sky, and nails him with rapid-fire bursts of fire and napalm! Herobrine is then grabbed by the claws of the beast, and flung into the far reaches of the land he's in. He slams into the cracked dome the land resides in, and watches as the dragon flies into him, slamming him against the walls! Herobrine then finds himself being peeled from the wall, and flung downwards once again. He lands in the ruins of an arena, and is promptly body-slammed by the dragon. Herobrine then gets up, and decides to actually do something during this attack. He channels his energy, a massive blast getting charged! Before it can let it loose, he finds himself falling asleep again...

cc: ...

cc: i (t)hink (t)ha(t) was a(c)(t)ually him.

cc: good de(c)ision by me (t)o wake him up.

...and he wakes up, still soaring through the air. Another portal appears, this one taking him back to his present day and age. He happens to appear right where the nuke from earlier was going to land, and is promptly pulverized by it. While in the crater, I run in, stomp on his face a few times, and run off quickly before he can do anything to me.

=Command=

Valeera gets yet another mana, upping her to 9 Mana! She then obtains the Balloon Drake card from Balloonsera, and then draws a card of her own!

CARD DRAWN: Backstab (0)

She then plays Backstab on any undamaged Demon from the Summoning Portal, Assassination on the Voidchicken, and then plays the Gnomish Inventor, drawing Sprint!

You know, I'm REALLY tempted to use Traho to protect Zineous, Herobrine, and a few other entities, but I'm not. You can thank me later.

=Action=

Sorodin pulls out an old classic, the LOGIC DISTORTION REMOTE from his back pocket. Realizing that Cobalt has it out for Zineous, he decides to protect him as much as possible. Pressing a few buttons, he sets the power output to FULL, and starts up the LDR. The air around Zineous starts to morph into 1s and 0s, the graphics being ripped away and the bare bones of the code being revealed. A few missingNo come through (You better not brainwash these, Uzi.), and the code around Zineous solidifies. Now, there's a solid wall of glitchy code around Zineous, and if any other entity stumbles through there, who knows what will happen? If not brainwashed, the missingNo will bodyguard Zineous, standing just outside the glitchy border. Looking down at the LDR, Sorodin notices it's faint glow has died. The LDR is no longer capable of generating results. Sorodin also takes a Mario's Cape out from the Super Unfair Paper Mario Maker Sketchpad 64, and uses it to turn around some of the Wizard of Yendor's Nasties.

OOC: Did nothing happen to the Esper? If so, why did it spell GORRILA?

Zineous will attempt to protect himself as much as possible. If he is sufficiently protected by my action, he will instead use Thunder Rage on the Wizard of Yendor and his Illusion once again.

==Alchemies==

Logic Distortion Remote && (Watch && Ender Pearl) =
Space-Time Manipulator 3/11

Voidmetal Bottle && Pocket Dimension = World in a Bottle 4/9

=Inventory=

Logic Distortion Remote (Powerless)

Super Unfair Paper Mario Maker Sketchpad 64

Voidmetal Bottle

Pocket Dimension

Infinite Pie Cornucopia

Traho

[/b]

(Only including things that I deem important to my ultimate alchemy chain thingy)

==Charges==

The Nonexistent 21/50 (+5 from Tazz)
Essence of Rain The Balancer 16/50 (+5 from Tazz)

+2 Cobalt

My attempt at bribery.

@Tazz the Maxis should have been healed (they regenerate their shields).

Herobrine... well my PG has no idea of who this guy is, but let's say that I want the reward so let's attack him.

Hezetor telekinetically raises a stone from his surrounding (or from his hammerspace if there is nothing like that) and throw in the direction of Herobrine, what I describe here happens before it reach him. (Before he even notices that such stone is close to him, in case he notices all of this happen in the moment he tries to touch it or when the stone is closest to him)(In every other case this happens when the stone is closest to him, so dodging is useless as well as parring)

I'm going to start my attack by just resolving one of the most useful equations that can be considered in physics: the equation of Einstein.
By applying it I will be able to rationally reach the meaning energy and all it's attributes.
Considering that we have that done, I'll be able to create a long-ranged attack cable to create an electric current that will accelerate the speed of the electrons that are located in the furthest part of each single orbital that makes part of everything in reality. (In this case I accelerated the speed of the electrons of the stone)
By doing that, I'll be able to create a distortion which, combined with quantum mechanics and general relativity will let me create corps with no shape that will utterly sucks everything inside of itself thanks to its unbelievably high density.

I was able to create one of the most fearful thing in the entire universe, the Black Hole. (from a common stone)

But that's not all, by increasing the acceleration of the electron, the Black Hole that I just created will get the interesting ability of warping and distorting time and space.
I'm no more talking about a simple Black Hole,this one is called in physics "Black Hole of Schwarzschild".

Now, Herobrine will try to escape,but that's not possible, and that's because it must reach a speed that can at least be equal to 299.792.158 metres per second (speed of light) and, even considering the possibility that it does, it still will be distorted by the increasing magnetic forces that are acting outside and inside the black hole.

So, if it will get caught inside this kind of hole, there will be no escape, but that doesn't mean that he will have a chance to leave that place because, by the acceleration of electrons and the amazing magnetic fields that are acting all along the electric current inside the hole, will generate an electromagnetic force that will have the same energy power as the number of oscillation of the Cesius atom during the time lapse of a second.
This number is actually 9.192.631.770 oscillation that, multiplied by the weight of the corpse that is getting inside the hole and the speed that he is having by leaving or entering inside this Black hole will utterly destroy him with a force that is unknown even by modern physicist.
What makes this kind of black hole (Schwarzschild's black hole) so different than the others is the fact that, whatever enters it, will be completely disintegrated. (At least in the moment his body entered he felt the greatest pain possible)

No ways to leave it, no ways to defend, no hope.
Instant death.

And that gentleman is how to turn a common stone in a Schwarzschild's black hole.

Now for a normal attack.

Let's install the following modules on the modular Magnum.

Now with these modules installed the magnum trigger is telekinetically moved by Hezetor.

The result is that the projectile is actually a smaller weapon to be precise a smaller .44 Magnum, this magnum fires of 2 Magnum and those 2 Magnum fires of 2 smaller Magnum and so on.

The result is that when the Magnums reach the Mechari Engineer they are as big as his atoms, you may ask how they manage to stay as such, the answer is the stasis manipulation that thanks to an appropriate manipulation of the particles that used to form the Magnum these were kept intact until the hit, because now that something like a trillion of weapons has hit the mechari the plasma bomb that was created inside explodes destroying the atoms of his more external part of his body , then the lightly bigger magnum come in and they do the same etc etc until a magnum big as a projectile explodes in the eye of the creature.

Now that was the first shot.

Should I fire the remaining?

Yes indeed.

The remaining bullets are shot reproducing perfectly the previusly stated effects on the mechari this time destroyng most of his head.

The maxis will attack the Mechari Engineer, may their laser melt him.

If he is dead they will just take cover.

+2 pit [AZ]

Concordant Killer 18/25 +2 form Tazz

Rugname 36/50+2 from Tazz

44 Magnum && container for modules = Modular Magnum (Level 5: 6/6) Complete!


Iron Armor && container for modules = Modular Armor 1/?

Personal shielding device && plasma generator = Plasma shield (Level 3: 3/4)

==Turn 1==
Salt 35/50 (+2 from Tazz)
Imperator 1/50
+2 to Twin.

Clay Disc && True Essence of Earth == Disc of Deepest Depths 3/11
Gold Goblet && True Essence of Water == Cup of Coldest Seas 3/11

==Action==

Crystal looks over at Jaraxxus, before becoming cloaked in a visible aura of power without moving so much as a finger. The Wand of the Empty Set warps into his fingers, before the aura around him becomes tinged with red oblivion energy, again without him moving even an inch. Jaraxxus suddenly notices that his legs are coated in an identical aura, before both auras intensify. Crystal’s does no harm to him at all, while the energy around Jaraxxus’s legs begins to slowly creep upwards as it sears his skin with the power of concentrated arcane energy, as well as just a tinge of oblivion. The aura around Jaraxxus accelerates its spread, covering all of him in a pulsing, shimmering, searing sheath of magic. Crystal twitches a hand, closing it into a fist, and the aura around Jaraxxus begins to squeeze. The other hand flattens into a blade, and the aura around Crystal extends into a sharp spike that pierces Jaraxxus’s chest, spearing directly through his heart. The Wand of the Empty Set is stored back in Crystal’s inventory, just after using its control over oblivion energy to flood every scrap of it in both auras into the hole in Jaraxxus’ chest, directly into his heart, that is. Said heart immediately crumbles into a fine dust, before being vaporized by the aura, which has not stopped being a thing. Crystal retracts his magical spike, and calls upon the spell Judgement, from Epic Battle Fantasy. A white arrangement of runes appears under Jaraxxus’ feet, before erupting into a pillar of holy power, searing the demon’s very essence. The holy magic funnels into the aura around Jaraxxus, further harming him for a period not exceeding five minutes, before both auras wink out.

==Entities==
Nop.

==NEW: Story==
-Just after the Grayhold meeting-
Crystal solidifies in the docking bay of the Thaumic Beyond. He walks back to his hub, checking on a few things as he goes - most notably, the DTG pylon, which appears to be working and active. This indicates that at least one instance of Crystal is participating in a DTG game - the pylon works to smooth out the temporal problems and canon overlaps that may result from having Crystal run around in various DTG games. Judging from the pylon’s readout (on the integrated Thaumonomitron’s screen) he’s currently in DTG0 and DTG: Terraria. Although DTG: Terraria has introduced an unforeseen wrinkle - what happens when one, non-canon (for now), possibly alternate timeline instance of Crystal ascends to become a Red Sun Guardian and GM of a game? A flicker of crimson power dances across one of Crystal’s hands. Other than the obvious, that is. Obviously any residual power won’t count for much of a boost in a non-Terraria game, but it provides extra options outside of gameplay. Such as experimentation with the power of the Red Sun.

Crystal continues along, checking on various things, and eventually coming to the group of rooms where he spends most of his time. A central hub connects to his personal living space, his personal research room, his personal magic testing area, and Crystallum’s AI housing. Seeing as he had made her, well, intelligent beyond all reasonable bounds in his original creation of True Crystallum, he had decided to just go all out and connect her into the Thaumic Beyond to become its AI - and, of course, upgrade her even more. He walks into the AI Hub to examine the housing for more exposition. Although he may be mainly a mage, he is by no means averse to technology - he just prefers magic in general. And, in this case, technology goes far beyond any magic he’s ever used.

The first thing one might see as they walk into the AI Hub is a sphere of shimmering magic containing what looks like a house-sized miniature sun. This is a massive amalgamation of plasma processor from the universe of Orion’s Arm, even a small amount of which is incredibly capable computation-wise. Some of the processing capability is taken up with scanning the area around the ship, some with stabilizing its space-warps, but the vast majority of it is just generally locked down to keep Crystallum from becoming entirely incomprehensibly intelligent. (In accordance with the rules of the universe of Orion’s Arm.) Enough is left to give Crystallum a good amount of brainpower, though. Below is a pedestal, looking slightly like a massive, upgraded Node Stabilizer, that seems to form the focus of the stabilizing sphere of magic, itself studded with what looks like massive pearls. Unless one were well-versed in the technology of Orion’s Arm, that is, in which case they are clearly Siris Pearl Modules, spheres of hyper-advanced computronium that add even more computational power and data storage to Crystallum’s mind. Several more are set into the walls around the core, these ones specialized to constantly backup Crystallum’s mind in case of total plasma-processor failure. No matter how unlikely that may be. Attached to the pedestal is True Crystallum in storage mode, in the form of a simple black metal card, and magically locked in through every spell Crystal could bring to bear. (And using several technological means as well.) In the back of the room is a massive tank of purified Zombie Brains, adding biological computing to the processing repertoire. Two separate, smaller tanks hold Crystalline Brains, one tank holding Order-aligned Brains and the other Entropy, connected in a fashion collectively known as the Entropic Array. The Entropic brains generate a constant flow of new ideas from raw chaos and data, and then the Ordered ones filter them for feasibility and sanity before releasing them into Crystallum's mind.

Crystal raises his hand to the captured sun, hand shimmering with red plasma, before stopping. Who knows what effects replacing the normal plasma with plasma drawn directly from the Red Sun would have, after all. Best to experiment there before trying it live - there'd be a danger to Crystallum in that case. He briefly wonders what effect funneling stabilized Cognitio essentia into the sun would have, before he hammerspaces the stack of books gotten from Grayhold and places them down on a nearby table. "More information for you, from Grayhold this time. Also, I think we need to experiment on plasma processors. With the Red Sun as a source of plasma, who knows what we could accomplish. That or the Green Sun, which would probably be more suited for computing." Crystallum responds, "Indeed we should. Thanks for the books. The Entropic Array is going a long way towards mitigating my new need for intellectual stimulation, but I can always use new things to mull over." An aura of shimmering white magic encases the books, scanning over them and absorbing the information within. “Interesting indeed. I should get started on building some of these. And the ideas within should serve as fruitful fodder for further research."

Crystal has already worked on merging technology and magic in the case of computation - infusing 32 thaums each of Machina and Potentia essentia through alchemy into a Siris Pearl Module makes it an incredibly fast processor, (increasing its capabilities by several orders of magnitude) while replacing Potentia with Vacuos gives it incredible data storage capacity. (Again, increasing its capabilities by several orders of magnitude.) In any case, the next order of business is to find an unoccupied solar system with a large amount of planets somewhere in the Void and get a few nanobot-powered manufacturing systems set up, as well as a planet-based base. A more stable base would go leaps and bounds toward increasing his power even more. And from there… not even the stars are a limit.

Finished Alchemy Project:
Winged Hunter Cosplay [Level 1] && Dragon Scales = Dragon Hunter Cosplay [Level 1] (2/2)

New Alchemy Project:

Heavy Rousing Sword King Rouzer* && Ten Commandments** || Class Cards*** = Heavy Class Commandment [Level ?] (1/??)

I'm struggling to defend myself from Dusk, distracting me from the actual battle that will inevitably become multiverse-spanning, though the resulting explosions, waves of force, and other hazards caused are liable to hit anything that get's too close. I'll use that to my advantage.

I take a few quick steps back, slipping though the denser part of the battlefield. It will only buy me a few minutes, but that should be long enough.

While Dusk tries to catch up, I try and make an impact on the battle I risk actually winning.

I gather mana from the environment around me, any kind will work, but preferences on my own part affect my gathering anyway, I really need to get over that. I'd normally make this into some kind of elaborate display, but I'm rushed for time, so I use one of the simplest attacks I have, pressurizing as much mana as I can gather into a ball and launch it at the Phantom Walker.

Dusk coming back within a few meters of my location means it's time to resume our earlier conflict. I fall back into the rhythm of dodging whatever I can and blocking what I can't.

Dusk: You're actually managing to prove interesting.
Dusk: How long can you keep it up before I make you pay for your lie?

Leon: You keep insisting that you didn't betray the city?

Leon: Want to justify yourself then?

Leon: Because as i saw things, you raided a Tortoise vault and ran off.

Leon: Do you even understand what that meant to the people?

Leon: To see sacred artifacts stolen away to the rebellious provinces outside?

Dusk: Don't need to, I'm not from your city, why should I be expected to play by it's rules?

Leon: That's it?

Leon: That's all you have to say about-

Then a pair of words I hadn't been expecting broke the mid-duel banter.

Dusk: Caught you.

Dusk closes the distance between us instantly, punching me with enough force to crush my defenses, and throwing me back though the air. I set up a barrier to try and avoid dying of the impact with whatever I'll hit, given the flight path I'm on right now, that whatever is probably going to be Herobrine.

Leon: Gah-!

Entities:
None that I know of...

Inventory:
Grimoire for the Summoning of Fantastic Beasts [Level 3]
Winged Hunter Cosplay [Level 1]
Heart Gauge [0 Collected]

Charges:
Corridor of Darkness: 20/25 (+1 from Talist, +2 from Tazz)
Astral Cafe: 8/15 (+2 from Tazz)

Boosts:

+1 for Talist
+1 for Twin

I saw Mt. Ebbot around the area and someone says

You're gonna have a bad time. because someone angered Mt. Ebbot.

I bash the Succubi on the floor then i nuke it with 350 missiles.

An powerful Halloween themed summon 44/50 +1 from Talist, 2 from Tazz

Sp00py Armor 21/25 +2 from Tazz (Part of my Halloween Miniboss summon.)

Heal Blaster && Bayo-Laser Rifle && Plasma Katana && Blue Gem = Best of Times, Worst of Times 3/11

+1 Pit, +1 Talist

My Items