Holy shit Its Joker quest.
I thought this was dead years ago, Stopped reading around thread 32.
Great to see a legacy of the /tg/ days still kicking!
Looks like I have a decent amount of reading to do

File: Joker - Wireframe (Episod(...).pdf (212 KB, PDF)

212 KB PDF

>>2531177

Behind you, hell beckons.

Your destrier's hooves gouge great wounds in the fungal earth, brass-shod flanks heaving against the frame that locks the Corrector's flesh in place - Your fists clenching down on the reins, red filaments of light radiating forth from your gauntlets as you urge it on, on, on-

Behind you, terrible sounds spew forth. The brittle clatter of rent helms and severed limbs against the chariot's hull, strung trophies on barbed chains. The churning, grinding shriek of scythed wheels, demolishing all obstructions as surely as a battering ram. The actinic hiss of the headlamp eyes glowing from the front of the hull, as it draws closer, closer-

And, most terrible of all - the creature the chariot bears. The pupils of his ruby eyes are gold, his mask fixed in a smile - A smile that bares perfect white teeth like pieces of alabaster. The blades that bristle from VOIVOD'S form rustle in silver surrusations, the cloak of flaying knives and scalpels and razors chiming like bells. It is a face frozen in a grin, a grin made worse by the stylized humanity - the carefully crafted inhumanity - of the demon that wears it.

And he is laughing. Laughing, in a hideous fluting voice that turns all of him into a mockery, a paen to nothing good.

v͠oivod i̸ ͝am̕ i̷ am͠ vo͞i̴v̷oḑ v̨ ͜fór ̡t̸hȩ voi̷d̢ ͝th̀e̵ scr̸ea͡ḿin̷g̴ ̛mou̴t̕h ̸ţhe͠ ̀a͘bs̨o͘lut̛e ͟ze̴ro ̵

͡òh̀ o̕h oh̶ ͢w͝a͢it̨ed̛ ͢wait̸ed fo̧r ͢y̶ou f͞ou̕nd̢ ͜you fo̸u̶nd ͠ýou ͝jo͡k͘e͜r jus͘t̕ b̨e̸g͞gi͟n͢g b̛ęgging ̵t͜o ̨be̡ bu̴r͝nt͜ and͞ tor͜n ànd̴

The words are not vocal. Their meaning reaches directly to your brain, like burning venom, like a cudgel to the back of the skull. You hear Daegal make a sound, as if he's trying to retch into his helmet, trying to throw up-

f̧įlthý ̶ba̡gs òf s̸ti̵n͢k͘i̷n̴g ̧mea̵t̸ ͞filth̡y̧ ͘f͡il͝thy ̶o̵h su͝c̨h͜ ͠f̧i͜lt͝h̶ ̡a͠ll ͝of̛ ̷y̵ou

"-make him stop-" Kazuya's voice crackles over the Dirac channel, as he clings to his steed like a lifeline.

"-make him stop-"

(Continued)

File: jokerblast.jpg (314 KB, 786x683)

314 KB JPG

>>2531181

The riveted, rusting steel of the great chariot - drawn by the eyeless juggernauts that haul it forward with inexorable force - has mismatched guns welded in place. At the left-hand side of the land cruiser's forward, thrust forward like an accusing finger: An autocannon hardpoint, firing so fast spears of muzzleflash rip through the red. You can hear the shots, wasping across the swishing grass - an invisible distortion, shot through by the ragged streaks of tracer rounds.

A riochet whines from your destrier's flank - your steed abruptly slews to the right, as if punched. Incredibly, it doesn't falter: But you can see the dented furrow in the brass that encases the fragile flesh within, a wound that leaks slow, viscous trails of black ichor. Daegal jerks, in the saddle - Sparks flash, as he's hit once, twice, thrice, in the back, arching at an unnatural angle. Somehow, somehow, he holds on, orichalcum armor unmarred by the impact-

It's not enough. Not enough to down a moving target, not quickly. But then why...?

And then you see it. The main gun, lolling with motion like a slack limb. Long, smoothbore, angled down steeply - the turret clamp squealing, as the weapon traverses. Almost like-

It fires.

The range is so short, there is no space to hear the whistle of the shell. The sound is painfully loud, like a thunderclap, like a concussion, like a hammer coming down on an anvil. Fifty meters ahead, a clump of fungal trees disintegrate in a cone of smoke and flame. The aftermath of the terrible blast shakes the ground, throwing a jarring lurch into your destrier's gallop, limbs bending at odd angles as you *make* it swerve around the instant crater-

The recoil is so powerful, VOIVOID'S chariot actually *lurches* back, momentarily slowed. Steam plumes from the juggernauts hauling the hellish device forward, shrouding him in a seething mist - His form momentarily obscured, a looming silhouette at the head of something from a nightmare.

He won't miss again.

Daegal's just ahead. As golden lines of light spiderweb across his steed's frame, you note the way it's become more baroque, more ornate, beneath his grasp - His destrier's faster than yours, more fleet-footed, moving with alacrity instead of sullen obedience.

But he looks back, and - though his helmet shows no expression - you know exactly what he's thinking.

VOIVOD won't miss again.

HP: 70.12%%
COBALT BOOSTER: 17%
ASSAULT SHROUD: 54%
METER: 47%
ENCROACHMENT: 11%

YOU HAVE CONTROL

File: jokerblast (2).jpg (23 KB, 512x384)

23 KB JPG

>>2531199

(Gentlemen, my apologies - That was the wrong image. I meant to upload this one instead.)

I wonder how well the proximity mines would fair against that chariot. Mayhaps a detonation from below?

>>2531199

Can we distract him with Shroud clones? If we can get behind him or attack from the sides, that should stop him shooting at us.

>>2531210
I think we should also use either Catoblepas or Chernobog on that heavy gun or another part of the chariot that would severely hinder it when disabled.

>>2531210
>>2531214
>>2531227

(Gentlemen, keep in mind that you need to keep at least one hand on the reins to control your destrier.)

>>2531230
Did the Phalanx Chain Mine require a free hand OP? If so, I think we best distract Volvod with our Triskellion Launcher and position us and Daegal behind him. Hopefully that will keep us save from his cannon.

>>2531241

(Yes, you require one hand free to fire it.)

>>2531243
And we were pretty much down an arm right? In that case, I think were best of getting the hell out of dodge. We ought to use the assault shroud to create after images, maybe even the triskellion launcher to make as best a getaway as possible.

>>2531253
>And we were pretty much down an arm right?
We regenerated the lost one at the end of the last thread, so we can afford the shot.

Anyway, I suggest some boosted missiles to provide cover and the fire Catoblepas at either the gun or wheels of the chariot.

>>2531214
>>2531227
>>2531253

You can hear pistons chattering, the metal-on-metal shriek of the chariot's advance momentarily broken as it rocks back-and-forth on its suspension. There is a screech of unoiled joints, like the scrape of blunted blades - Some internal shudder racing through the land cruiser, as vast mechanisms rack...

At your back, your Triskelion Launcher spin up. A flight of rockets spew forth, curving away from you on contrails of smoke, on wings of jetair and flame - They streak ahead, tumbling on their first and final flights, slamming into the petrified trunk of a fungal tree-

And then the warheads go off.

The blast levels it. A collar of detonations shears the thing free, as if you've taken an axe to it - Splinters rain down on you, as the thing topples with a vast, terrible groan, burning spores swirling in a choking cloud-

You dig your heels into your destrier, and will for speed. You can feel the chained Corrector struggling, laboring, fatigue poisons building with each passing second - But forced on, regardless. If you willed it, it'd run until its heart exploded.

"Fuck-!" you hear Daegal yelp - A startled blurt, over the channel. "It's going to-"

Your fists clench down, as the falling shadow descends towards you - But then you're past it. You hear the whistle, hear the juddering impact as it crashes down - For one dizzying moment, you're nearly jolted from your perch, vast plumes of gravel and charnel earth spraying out from both sides-

Now.

Your Assault Shroud wrenches away from you. The nanofiber colony is depleted, a ragged silhouette detaching from your form - It seems to tumble away, flickering in-and-out of the smoke in a pantomine of motion as you slew your destrier to the left-

-You glimpse Daegal executing an identical move, his fists clamping down in a white-knuckled grip-

(Continued)

>>2531295

Something slams in your armor, the fug of spores and smoke and mist blurring your vision to nothing. For one blank moment, it's all you can do to *hang on*, hang on with a grim determination - You hear the Corrector's hooves smash down on something that shatters like brittle bones, your shoulder clipping the bole of a petrified stalk-tree-

And then comes a louder sound, a sound like a calamity, as VOIVOID'S chariot smashes headfirst through the obstruction you've just dropped in his way. It does not slow: You can hear the splintering crash of the silent juggernaut driving *through* it, like twin battering rams-

There is a tremendous blast. You glimpse the hissing, fibre-spraying track of the shell - a powerful linear distortion - as it whips through the fog. The explosion is a blinding flash, big enough to rip a new path through the densely-packed undergrowth, liquified pulp raining down in a slimy rain-

But the blast was ahead of you. You glimpse twin yellow lamps cutting through the gloom, as churning wheels spray black earth from either side-

He's taken the bait.

Your right arm's acutators are damaged, armored fingers twitching weakly, fighting to sustain the contact. It's enough - CHAGAN's kill-markers smoke with green flame, tiny glyphs burning against the brass as the Nova Cannon sketches itself into existence...The form warping, shifting, growing organic curves, reconfiguring into the alien weapon of CATOBLEPAS.

You can *hear* your destrier's breath, hissing forth in ragged exhalations - Even as silent filaments of grey lightning stream between CATOBLEPAS'S crystal spines. The weapon's translucent interior blackens, the fist-sized iris of the barrel rotating as it seethes with charge-

You'll only get one shot. You have to get closer.

(Continued)

File: joker blades.jpg (437 KB, 1190x1110)

437 KB JPG

>>2531308

There. Through the fog - the chariot's iron-bound bulk, scythes whirring as they churn through the smoke. You're behind and to the right of it - leveling your weapon at the grim silhouette, fighting to hold on with your free hand. Your targeting cursor skitters, trying to find the range, the thunder of your destrier's hooves drowned out by the chariot's hellish clamor - It crashes through bare branches and the long grass, trampling hissing black grubs underfoot, showering dew and bark splinters as sparks fly from the rims-

The cursor blinks, hunting. If your Argus Sensor was working, you'd draw a bead in a moment. But like this, it's wait for targeting solution or fire blind...

And without warning, the landbound cruiser *swerves*. It swings towards you, the lethal scythes of the wheels shearing closer - Your hand spasms on the destrier's reins, wrenching it away from the sudden, lethal shift-

A rattle of blades-

Something brilliant and lethal, like a scouring whip, shears through the air. Your reflexes save you - The Sinistral's hard-light wedge flares to life, and you wrench it *up* just in time to take the shearing, slicing blow. It is a fractal dragon, an uncoiling line of blades, recoiling from the first impact as cracks skitter along your shield's face - It nearly flings you from the saddle, as the slicing edge furls upon itself with a sound like a rain of knives.

VOIVOID. At the raised prow of his ship. The line of blades retracts, whipping back into the razor-edged cloak that halos his form. There is a sound like a surrusation, as if his weapons murmur to each other, in conspirator's tones-

He turns. You see those gold-in-red eyes, utterly mad, as the chariot swings towards you - The whirring scythes clattering, chattering, their slicing edges drawing sparks from the brass that sheathes your destrier's frame. A terrible light pulses in his right hand, something warped and lethal taking form, the way a smile slowly fades-

HP: 67.55%%
COBALT BOOSTER: 30%
ASSAULT SHROUD: 7%
METER: 26%
ENCROACHMENT: 10%

YOU HAVE CONTROL

>>2531352
Time for some EXEC_BARRIER.
Fire the catoblepas on his right arm regardless.

>>2531352
Flash him.

>>2531404
Do this first
>>2531374
Then this.

Also give a Dirac transmission to Daegal. Tell him to fire off a shot while VOIVOID is distracted by us.

>>2531374
>>2531404
>>2531427

The Cobalt Booster's glow dims - And then the Tyrant Burst system flares to brilliant, blinding life. It is a cone of eye-searing illumination, shearing through the gloom: the chariot's stark and ugly lines thrown into sharp relief. VOVOID flinches away from the brilliance - An instinctive gesture, as the hellish glow around his raised fist bleeds tendrils of unlight through the air-

And the interlocking hexagons of EXEC_BARRIER slam into place around you, as that twisting light spews forth. The bleak radiance breaks over your shield like a wave, splitting around you - like scrabbling fingers clawing, failing to find purchase. You hear his laughter becoming a buzzing shriek, thwarted, furious, as a furious gout of unmitigated blackness spews forth from CATOBLEPAS. It slams into him, before the glow can fade - bursting on impact, a spherical wave of petrifying energies. You hit him dead-on, in profile - the hellish unlight rippling like animate shadow, as a chunk of the chariot's hull and deck turn to dead black stone.

Now-

*Wait*. As the rippling glow dims, you hear sharp splitting cracks - blades, turned from steel to rock, splintering from VOIVOD'S halo. But his form-

Smoke wisps from the impact site. There is a distortion, as reality squeals around him - Fighting to warp his very substance, to change it-

Until the glow dies, diminishing to nothing, leaving only the peerless gleam of gold.

A gleam like-

Orichalcum. He's made of orichalcum too.

(Continued)

Wait we got a horse?

That's rad

Time to catch up

>>2531456
Might want to switch to the Fusion Annihilator and swipe through the wheels with a 1-2 charge beam.

>>2531456

How-

CHAGAN whirrs and hums and clicks as it reconfigures, metal running over metal - CATOBLEPAS'S alien shape giving way to your clenched fist. VOIVOD's turn becomes a full spin, his cloak whirring outwards in a fusillade of multiple edges - You wrench yourself back, as they slice at you, the lethal hem drawing sparks from your left arm, slicing through the armored casing of your Plasma Vulcans. The barrels put up more resistance, a teeth-on-edge grinding sound coming from the ruptured mechanisms-

"Joker - Joker, hold on-"

Through the smoke - a flare of red light. Cising sparks, jagging and searing, throwing Daegal's profile into sharp relief. His Cobalt Booster burns like a hot coal in his chest, a blurt of effort coming in a brief burst of static-

He has Ascalon in his right hand. The neutronium blade - so heavy he can barely lift it, dragging a deep furrow in the earth - carves through the air, as he hauls it up and over, his limbs seething with red light. Acutators groan, as he brings Armaros's sword down in a single demolishing blow-

In a word: WHAM.

Metal shrieks as it tears, rivets shearing. Ascalon smashes into the whirring scythes without stopping, and utterly demolishes them. There is a sound like some infernal machine shaking itself to pieces, mechanisms going in the wrong direction. Black stone shatters like glass, as Ascalon cleaves into the chariot, peeling back the steel frame like the tongue of a shoe. It rips a huge bite out of the chariot's plating, leaving the internal structure of the left side exposed, as the upper-quarter of the hull tears away.

And halfway inside the cab - You glimpse the metal snake of the autocannon's munition feeder, coiling back, fat and heavy, into the chariot's internal mechanisms-

k̪̳̩i͖̹l͇̞̜l̮ ̳̦̺͈͘y̩o̘̼͉u ̮͇͓̼̖a̜͓̕ḽ̵l̵ ̯̳̩̩i̥͘n ͈̺̕ļ̤̗͉͈̻̠̫i̩t͎͚̥͕̮̱t̼̮͇̼̯͈l̞̙ḙ ͖̱͔͟b͓̘̖͚͎͙̖͢i̯̣ṱ͘s̖̖͓ ̸̦̝̫͎a͕̤̩̜̬͔̺n̫̩͚̤d͕̣̣̟͍ ̷͓̮̼̹̳t̹̳̥̬̞h̸̭͕e̡n͓̩̬̥ ̵̠̟ạ̸͎n͖͎̮d̕ ̠̫̤t͖h̳͙̰̹̩ȩ̱n̗͎̺ ̸͓̫̖͕̜͇̦A̬̬̤̭͖̖̬͘Ṋ͍͡D̜ ̳̪̖͖T̩̝̰͓̩ͅH͇̟̫̞͙̗͚͢E͙̮̜̭N

(Continued)

>>2531538
Is it going to fire or is the chariot about to blow itself up?

If the former then tell Daegal to move the fuck out of the way and have Omen ready to try and displace the explosive round.

If the latter, then MOVEMOVEMOVEMOVEMOVE. Tell Daegal to prepare Fortress Mode to protect us both, too.

>>2531566

(The autocannon's mechanisms are exposed. It's not in the position to fire - You're on either side of it, and it can't traverse sufficiently to target you.)

>>2531538

Automatic blades, ratcheting into attack position - obsidian knives splintering away, pinging from the chariot's deck like fallen shards of stone-

>>2531534

The whirling lines of the VECTOR TRAP disgorge your Fusion Annihilator, the charging elements in your wrist humming, juddering as it comes to power. The capacitators cycle, power feeds glowing as the charge builds-

Hooked blades shear forth from slots in VOIVOD's fingertips. He lashes out, a savage, tearing blow. It misses you entirely, the blades raking through the air inches from your helmet-

...And ripping into your destrier's throat. The hooked blades shear through the brass, carving into the meat below - Black blood gouts forth. Your steed judders beneath you, a keening bray of distress splitting the air as it staggers. Sheer momentum keeps it going, for one long stride, then another-

But you feel the Corrector's flanks heave, feel it lurch as it dies beneath you. The wound is deep and rending, carving all the way to the spine - Only the control filaments puncturing the creature's flesh keep it running, sending the surge of your commands to failing, struggling limbs-

Your destrier's hooves, abruptly and finally uncoordinated, catch on a fold of earth below. You can actually feel the moment all animation leaves it, the body convulsing one last time, bone snapping, tendons tearing from the finality of death. The Fusion Annihilator cycles to a single charge, as your forward momentum is abruptly arrested - Black arterial blood spattering your gauntlets, as the chariot seems to *leap* ahead of you.

HP: 80.01%%
COBALT BOOSTER: 23%
ASSAULT SHROUD: 19%
METER: 37%
ENCROACHMENT: 10%

YOU HAVE CONTROL

>>2531602
Leap off our mount and use the Abruption Jets to launch ourselves on top of the chariot. Have the Crisis Arm ready to counter VOIVOD when he tries to attack. Flash him again if necessary. Also, send a Message to Daegal so he keeps hacking at the chariot or perhaps hits VOIVOD in the back while he's busy with us. Also prepare him to receive us when we jump off. Hopefully his Midas-boosted mount can take it.

Once the FA is up to 2 or 3 charges (use Booster to speed it up), blast VOIVOD or shear through the chariot's bottom and jump to Daegal.

Whoa, looking cool, Joker!

>>2531538
Fucking hell, that's a ballsy move. Get Deagle to keep hacking away at the chariot while we jump on it.

>>2531602
Shoot into the exposed mechanisms

>>2531637
Supporting

File: Gilgamesh_X.jpg (188 KB, 700x550)

188 KB JPG

Does Voivoid remind anyone else of this asshole? Main difference is he's too damn crazy to be boastful in a coherent manner.

Also I forget how the cosmology works but it kind of seems like the Red has like a cycle to it, is it possible that Voivoid is a former Daegal/Daegal equivalent?

>>2532433
Makes sense. Oh god. Don't tell me that in order for Anon/Red Joker to get back to the Living world, he and the previous red Joker had to abandon the Deagal of the previous cycle to the Black world. I can easily guess that the way out means someone has to hold the door open.

>>2532444
At this point I think if either of us have to hold back the horde it will be Anon. We were always living on borrowed time anyway...

>>2531894
This.

Those rounds are explosive. If we can get a decent shot at the munition feed, we can send the entire thing up in smoke. We can at least completely total the chariot, if nothing else.

>>2531177
Hey JQOP.

Finals are still going on, so unfortunately I can't catch up to this thread or stay on here and watch the show. Sounds like shit is going down too. I'll make sure to up vote the thread when it's archieved.

If it isn't much to ask, could you release the system that you use for this quest? The mechanics and rule of cool the red world runs off of is really fun, and I've been wanting to play this with some friends.

I remember you talking about doing that a long time ago in the archieves, but holding off so that nothing would be spoiled. Just wondering if that is still the case.

>>2533468
I second this question. I've been a long-time fan and I'd love the chance to check out your rules or even pick your brain about what's been written so far and what your experiences have been in writing such a legendary quest.

>>2531456
>Orichalcum. He's made of orichalcum too.

Oh no.

Is he the previous Daegal?

We should probably start taunting Voiced. Call him the Shitlord, ruler of filth.

>>2533468
>>2533577

(To my embarrassment, I'm still collating the whole set of rules into a readable format. It probably wouldn't make sense to anyone except myself, and I'm codifying the character creation system. I'll most probably upload the rules for use once I'm done with the quest.

Character creation isn't an issue when I'm running the Quest - since I don't really have to worry about balance - but it'd be a thing if this is viable as an RPG system. There's also a lot of stuff that was left on the cutting room floor, like Embeds and the territory-control minigame.)

>>2531637
>>2531813
>>2531894
>>2532423
>>2533249

You have a moment, as your destrier collapses beneath you, as life flows out and death flows in. The Tempest Scrander at your back is a twisted, crumpled mass - But you leap anyway, hurling yourself forward, as the Abruption Jets flare to life at your elbows, the back of your knees, the soles of your feet. The static thrusters *propel* you, flinging you forward with a force as blunt as a grunt of pain.

The angle is poor. Your arm flails out, as you claw your way through the air - You slam into the raised protrusions of the chariot, your gauntleted hand clenching down on a jutting spike. The impact of your armored form against the hull is a dull clang, like a sledgehammer being taken to a bell - Beneath you, the ground whips past in a blur, the autoreactive talons of your boots gouging shallow furrows into the metal with a scraping shriek, fighting for purchase-

VOIVOD turns, mantled with blades. His form looms over the lip of the chariot, as you cling on for dear life with one hand. Tiny sparks flares at the damaged joint of your wrist, your form beginning to slither down the metal face - You wrench one leg up, talons grating as they find a seam in the raw iron of the hull, armor plating vibrating beneath you from the sheer speed of passage.

How-

Traceries of golden light jag out around his feet. He doesn't need to grip the chariot's control rig to steer it.

Blades ratchet, cycling, whirling towards VOIVOD as he draws one free - In his hand it becomes a straight, slender longsword of chased gold, baroque and oddly delicate. Like a surgical tool, clenched in a murderer's hand. There is a bleak, brittle malevolence to his eyes, some elemental hatred that defies words, as VOIVOD whirls it in his hand, gripping it blade-down like a dagger-

The blade pistons down.

"No-!"

Kazuya swings again. This time, he doesn't aim for the chariot - He sweeps Ascalon across, a great cleaving blow that nearly pitches himself out of the scabbard. The titanic blade shears through the air, perfectly parallel to the ground: It whistles over the heads of the blind juggernauts, carving towards VOIVOD's back-

VOIVOD half-turns, into the blow. Like a magician's trick, a second sword leaps to his free hand in a thunderclap of dizzyingly light. It seems like a slender reed, almost pitiful before Ascalon's peerless edge-

The swords meet. There is a painful, plosive bang, a flare of amber light. The shockwave pummels you, nearly rips you free - Light from beyond the visible spectrum roils and churns at the point of impact, sparks shearing from the clash.

(Continued)

>>2536532

Daegal makes a wordless sound - a blurt of muscle-ripping effort, his Cobalt Booster glowing with a furious crimson light. You glimpse the edge of VOIVOD'S orichalcum-chased sword beginning to crumple inwards upon itself, Ascalon's edge biting into the tang of the lesser blade-

Blind, binary hatred screeches from VOIVOD's speakers. He lashes out, slashing his blade beneath Daegal's guard, a wicked gutting stroke. The hybrid alloy of the sword smites through Daegal's cuirass, scouring a deep gash across his peerless armor - He lurches forward in the saddle, nearly losing his grip on Ascalon as he recoils from the impact, his destrier nearly decapitated as his own sword rebounds at a wild angle.

There is a crack, a sound like a rifle shot. The top third of VOIVOD's blade snaps, leaving roughly twenty centimetres of alloyed steel embedded in Kazuya's side. He staggers back, too - as if in sympathy, the chariot lurches wildly to the right, pulling away from the confrontation. The single remaining scythe screeches, as it smashes into - and through - some obstruction, utterly obliterating it, as Daegal's destrier falls behind-

But in that moment, he's forgotten you. Your left arm ends in the Fusion Annihilator's bulk - Useless for climbing, even as you swing it up and over the lip of the chariot. Focusing rings cycle, the charging indicators pinging at it clocks over.

Two charges. Not enough, perhaps, to penetrate orichalcum armor-

But it's not VOIVOD you're aiming at.

Light spears forth from the Annihilator. Even with minimum charge, the blast is savage. A light flash, a searing beam. The white-cored radiance lances out, your optics automatically dimming to avoid burning out-

The beam sears past the golden horror, into the complex feeder mechanisms of the autocannon. The burning caress severs the black snake of the ammunition feed, and lances right into the munition store.

For one moment, you actually see the compartment rupture. You see the outlines *twist*, losing their shape - And then the internal blast comes, sudden and bright, hot and vast. Not just the autocannon ammunition - the shells for the main gun, too, of far high gauge and killing power. All of those explosives, cooking off at once.

A second flash. A blinding, surging, expanding blossom of white light. The noise and the shockwave hit you, and hurl you aside like a discarded toy.

The explosion transcends sound.

(Continued)

>>2536576
Want want to pull up Fortress Mode and hide behind the shield if we have the chance.

>>2536576

You hit the ground with a bone-jarring crunch, and tumble in a flurry of gravel and earth. The impact rips plates from your damage armor - Something snaps in your damaged leg, red sky and fungal earth whirling again and again. A fragment of hull plating clatters and cartwheels past you, shedding debris, the cut edges glowing and molten, as you - slowly, slowly - come to a halt.

Your optic feed cuts out, for a black, jolting moment. Dizziness surges, your internal gyroscope fighting to adjust as you sprawl, red telltales flashing on your HUD.

Close by, the thunder of hooves-

"...ker-"

The static buzz resolves into words.

"-get up, get up. Get *up*, An - Joker-"

There is a strange confusion, after the hideous, jarring impact. A dazed, bruised disorientation, as if your sense of time has been utterly scrambled.

Daegal's steed looms, as he leans towards you from the saddle - A hand extended, as the Corrector seems to fight his control: It paws the ground, struggling up, shaking its head, rattling its brass war harness and plated frame.

"Joker, fucking come on-"

[ ] "Did we kill him? Is he dead?"
[ ] "Where's the chariot? Where's VOIVOD?"
[ ] "He was - He was like *you*."
[ ] "We need to get after him. We have to finish this."
[ ] "We have to get out of here, now."
[ ] Take his hand.
[ ] Free

YOU HAVE CONTROL

>>2536602
>[ ] Take his hand.
>[ ] "We have to get out of here, now."

>>2536602

(My apologies, gentlemen - It's late, and I have work tomorrow. However, I should be able to pick up tomorrow, too.)

>>2536665
S'fine, though an earlier heads up would be nice.

>>2536512
I'm happy that it's happening anyway

Take your time, no pressure

>>2536602
>[X] "Where's the chariot? Where's VOIVOD?"

Don't loose track of the insane Daegal-wannabe

>>2536833

See, this poses a question. All of the old players we've met are insane. Voivoid is so crazy he can't even speak coherent. Even Naoya is so deeply, deeply crazy he considers mass murder a mere detail.

So how did Anon not go insane?

>>2539989
I'm fairly certain he did. It's just a somewhat more subtle and insidious form of insanity.

>>2539989
Anon only spent a century here.
The gibbling madmen had millenia to go mad.

And even then he's already pretty fucked up. What with the meme-charged voices in his head and his affinity for fighting like a cornered animal.

>>2539989
He is insane. We're the product of that insanity.

The fact that mind readers can read everything we post proves that.

>>2536607
>>2536833

> [X] Take his hand.

You reach up, as the destrier canters onwards. Daegal's gauntlet closes on yours - the baroque inlay depicting a blazing star, erupting forth from the heart of an iron-bound figure - as he hauls you up and into the saddle. The jagged fragment of VOVOID's sword still protrudes from his side, until he reaches down to wrench it free.

"Jesus," Kazuya says, his voice a tight wince of pain. "-What's it even *made* of...?"

There's a kind of puzzled trepidation to his words, a realization of his own vulnerability. Before, only the Fatal Abyss could cut him in the same way. He claps his heels to his mount, and it begins to accelerate once again, more slowly than before.

You're riding double, now. You're not sure how much further his steed can carry you.

> [X] "We have to get out of here, now."

"Fuck, you don't have to tell me that." His charger leans forward into a gallop, hooves crunching through the long grass - the undergrowth is thickly-clustered here, the fungal forest thickening into a maze of rotting stalks and snaking mycellum. Spores swirl thickly in the air, beneath the long shadows cast by the great domes looming overhead.

Sparks shoot from the damaged joint of your leg. You don't think it can take your weight - the absence of pain is a strange, dispassionate sensation, yet familiar all the same. The mind plays tricks, breathless in the anticipation of agony that will never come.

> [X] "Where's the chariot? Where's VOIVOD?"

"-I don't know," Daegal says, shortly - His voice taut with concentration. "It - he - was still on the chariot when it went up..."

Then - "When the magazine exploded - It just kept going. It was a ball of fire, and they just...they just kept dragging it along, until-"

Words fail him. The clatter of hooves is the only sound that remains, for long moments - As you flick through the alert screens that flash up on your HUD. Your armor's rent in several places, the plating battered into near-shapeless - left-arm Vulcan cleaved so thoroughly that the casing blooms outwards like a metallic blossom. It's a litany of damage, of gradual attrition-

But you've had worse.

-head down, crawling across the black sands, the twisted stumps of your legs a distant memory-

After all, this place failed to kill you the first time.

"...Do you, ah - Do you think it's dead?"

No. No surge of Essence, only the dull painless absence of accumulating damage.

To his credit, Kazuya doesn't suggest going to look.

(Continued)

>>2540607

As visibility drops to almost nothing, an eerie silence descends, broken only the misshapen shapes of petrified trees, looming from the gloom. The canopy is so thick, it's impossible to glimpse the suppurating red sky above. Except for the distant surrusation of the stalks, the constant swirl of the spore-clouds, little else remains - Even the wretched, bloated black grubs had thinned out, here, their whistle and buzz fading to nothing.

Increasingly, odd, twisted thorn brush - hard as bone, twice as tall as you are - becomes increasingly prominent. Powder-grey, gnarled and wrinkled, spiked boughs bear thorns as long and sharp as hypodermic needles. They scrape dully against your armor - they rasp, without finding purchase, against Daegal's. The sound they make against the Corrector's flanks is unpleasant, reminiscient of keys scraping the paint from a car's sides.

The destrier slows to a canter, then to a trot. Anything else risks broken limbs. The thick swirl of the mist summons vague impressions - Here, a reaching hand. There, a leering face. Half-glimpsed, then gone.

The Joker's Memory pulses, just above your core. Ahead, it whispers. Never stop.

Daegal's optics glow a pale blue, in the gloom. "...You think they're still after us?" he says - you hear the hope in his voice, the hope and the dread.

"-Who...No, what - What were they?"

[ ] "Yes. They've been waiting for prey for a long time."
[ ] "Yes - the hunt means everything to them. They'll regroup, then come after us again."
[ ] "Yes. They know we're newcomers."
[ ] "No. They'll turn on the ones we've weakened."
[ ] "No. They've had their sport."
[ ] "No, but VOIVOD is. He's not going to give up."

[ ] "They're us, if we ever give up."
[ ] "The ones who couldn't find a way back."
[ ] "...You don't want to know, Kazuya."
[ ] "Never mind that. The Joker's Memory says we're going in the right direction."
[ ] "-I don't know." (Lie.)

YOU HAVE CONTROL

>>2540619
>[X] "Yes. They've been waiting for prey for a long time."
>[X] "The ones who couldn't find a way back."
>[X] "They're us, if we ever give up."

>>2540619
>[ ] "Yes. They've been waiting for prey for a long time."
>[ ] "The ones who couldn't find a way back."

>>2540619
>"Not right now, they'l turn on the ones we've weakened first before coming after us again. But VOIVOD won't give up. He'll be back."

>"Players who've been trapped down here for too long. The ones who couldn't find a way back and gave up."

>>2540623
>>2540624
>>2540626

> [X] "Yes. They've been waiting for prey for a long time."

The light in Daegal's optics flickers. If a Player could turn pale, Kazuya would.

"But-" he begins. "-But...It's just the two of us-"

He doesn't understand, not really. He can't imagine the endless, glacial march of deep time - how each moment becomes an eternity. How the sterile days and lightless nights give way to formless need, a shapeless longing to do more than to merely exist.

How survival, like an animal, is not enough.

The silence. The absence. The living oblivion.

The inability to escape from yourself.

You felt it too, in the darkest hours. Like a voice, carried across the hissing acid seas, winding through the dunes of black sand.

-̶̪͚̳t͕̺̩͖̗̗h͕̗̩̞͓͎a̮̻̻̥̠t̛ ̪t̨ẖ̰͈̪́ͅe̯̪͔ ̝̙p͎̬a̡̻͇̳͍̝̳͕s̨̟̥̰̬t̞̖̘͖ ̷͉̣͇i̪͖̤̞s̬̘̙ ͓̥a̵̱̮̗̩̼͔ ͖̩̯̖̘ḏ͕̤̤̤ṟ̳̟̖̠e̝͈̩̗͘a̼m̟̝̬̺ ̢̜̠a̝͙͍̼͞n̞̘͈̭̥͞d̘͝ ͕̩̫͡ṭh̩̮e̦͉̘̪͓̠ ͎̠f̮̪͉̩͓͡uţ̘̪̤͉u̥̣̟͝ͅr̜̭̥̪͍͙͠e͓ ̞̝͎̗ͅd͎̺̖͚͔̼͖oe̻͓͇s̳ ̘̖̤̻͚n͢o͉͎̦̖͜t͖̺͖̝̤̰ ͎̖̠e͇x̯i̻̬s͈̀t̕ ͕͎̻̝a̛͔n̖͉̱̘̝̼͢d̫͖̤͎̭̰ ͎̻͔a͈̞̮l̶̹͇͇̩̥l̞̳͘ ̠̪̞͇t̨̞͎̠h́a̸̞͍̺t͍̥ r̳͕͟em͓̦̱a̼̯͠ͅi̪̳̱n̤̠̬͚̣͚s̯̼͙͉͔̠̟ ͕̺i̧̤̺s͇̤̘͞ ͕͓͍͎̙͎͝a͔͠n͍͙͎͍̰ ̥͉̣ͅḙ̡̫t̫͖̻͎̣̱e͔̣̰͡r͙͕̮n̯͠á̠̬̠l̬ ̢̩n͙o̺̖͈͈̦̬ͅẃ̯̮͇̭ ̴̱n̳͉̟̝o̠͇̙̞̹̱̫̕ ̮̻̼̠s͚̭̬͉̱̞͖͜le͕̘e͍̼͚̥̟p͕̬͍͈͉̦ n̶̥̪̗o̡̼̳̟͉͓͔ ̺͍̺ḍ̢͙e̴̩̖͎͖a̶͓̖̗͖͕̰t͔̳̣̞h͚͚̫͍͕̤͘ ̱̯̳̜̩͟n̮͎o͎̙͓̮͜ l̮̝͇̺̮i̼͎̰̫̜ͅg̭͚̥̯̀h͕̥̩̘̻͢t͈̱̺͙ ͉̖̟n͖͔̳o̟͍̹̣̖ ̼͍̀e͍͎͕͕̬ͅͅn̖̱̟͖̬d̢ ͕̙͈ͅo͎͖͎̦n͎̥̻l̜͓͖͕͙ͅy͈̘͔͇͚͔̰͜ ̖͚͓̠̭t̤̟͔͓̯͜ẖ̜͜e̸͚̪ ̱͕ͅn̢̘͎͓̖̪͓͚ú͕͕̤̗͎ͅl̝̣ͅl͙͚͉͇-̶̼̯͇̤

Never anything more than that.

Something circling, without ever seizing hold.

(Continued)

File: community_image_1418179102.png (376 KB, 385x483)

376 KB PNG

>>2540653
Faggot wants to achieve CHIM

>>2540653

> [X] "The ones who couldn't find a way back."
> [X] "They're us, if we ever give up."

How many years, down in the dark? Strange eons, in the long crawl towards oblivion. Long enough to exhaust all the humdrum cruelties known to man, to progress to innovations unmistakably their own.

To cram the dead hours with centuries of suffering, to fill the blank spaces with miles of pain. Anything, to forget a single truth - That there are other worlds than this.

To wander the night paths of this strange and forgotten place, with no-one to hear. To find the place of deep silences, like a plain with no horizon, far beyond the waking dreams and nightmares of the other life. The life forgotten before.

To - at last - be complete and content within yourself, beyond the bounds of the human experience.

To transcend sanity, and b͙͔͚̖͎̱ẹ̤̥͕͖ć̺̥̦ợ̣̳̫̻mę̞̠̙͖̪̠.

"Joker?" Daegal half-turns, in the saddle. "I don't underst-"

He catches himself, mid-sentence. Perhaps he doesn't want to know.

(Continued)

>>2540664

"All right," he says, his hands flexing against the grips of the control frame. "-All right."

"...So they're not going to stop. They're going to keep coming after us, until-" Kazuya swallows, hard. "Until they catch us, one way or another." Something flickers, a binary tempo - New information received, processed. "Riding double like this...I don't think we can outrun them, wh - if - they catch up."

He sounds like he's turning it over and over again in his head, coming to a conclusion he doesn't like. But he falls silent, leaning forward into the racing position, focusing solely on guiding the Corrector through the thickening brambles.

Then-

"Wait," Daegal says. "Something up ahead-"

Up ahead, without warning, the forest ends. And you see-

You see-

A city. Clusters of sky-skewering metal spires, wrapped in a fuzz of black against the red sky. The size of it. The breath-stealing size of it. The mind-blanking, thought-emptying size of it - A mountain range, made of hundreds - if not thousands - of ancient structures. Towers, large and small, alongside pyramids and ziggurats. Sprawling, crumbling-columned pavilions, before enigmatic structures that could be anything from necropolises to temples.

But the rough shape of the entire place is circular, with concentric rings of roads and walls tapering near their tops, guarding all the rings from inner to outer.

The vast towers, with countless windows - row upon row, tier upon tier, deadlights like eye sockets, giving back no reflection, stained by unimaginable ages spent in consuming darkness - like bleak, blasted holes.

And before it - the graveyard.

Beneath the gore-coloured light of the crimson skies, the shattered ruin of woe machines - like bleached skeletons in a graveyard of leviathans - swarm the plain, shoulder to shoulder, flank to flank. The hooked blades of vast flensing wheels, of ruined mechanical behemoths, ungainly rows and piles of wreckage - some like globes, some like starfish, some utterly inimical to any concept of organic life. You glimpse missing hull plating, collapsed systems - ancient glass, still reflecting the dying light, glinting amid the wreckage.

So many others, too. All caved in - ripped open - perforated - lesser machines jammed between the greater.

"Holy shit."

Daegal's voice is low, awed. "What-"

"...What is this? What *happened* here-?"

[ ] "There was a war, I think. A siege."
[ ] "...I don't know. I've never seen this before."
[ ] "Someone...*Something*...built that city. Something came to destroy it."
[ ] "This - This makes no sense. How could something like this be here...?"
[ ] "I don't think we'll ever know."
[ ] "We have to go down there."
[ ] Free

YOU HAVE CONTROL

>>2540721
>[ ] "There was a war, I think. A siege."
>[ ] "This - This makes no sense. How could something like this be here...?"

>>2540721
>[X] "There was a war, I think. A siege."
>[X] "We have to go down there."

>>2540721
>But the rough shape of the entire place is circular, with concentric rings of roads and walls tapering near their tops, guarding all the rings from inner to outer.
Sounds like the center might have some goodies.

>[ ] "...I don't know. I've never seen this before."
>[ ] "This - This makes no sense. How could something like this be here...?"
"Remember when Amaros talked about the wonders of the Red? About wondering where it all came from?
I think you understand it now, too. We, the Players, are like children playing with toys that we do not understand. This isn't just a parallel world - it's an entire fucking universe that was apparently inhabited at some point.

>>2540721

(Gentlemen, my apologies - It's extremely late here, but I'll pick up tomorrow.)

>>2540721
>[x] Kazuya. Remember that school play? I'm... fuzzy on the details, but this whole thing somehow screams SYMBOLISM and parallels.
>[x] a city. what remains of a city. or many cities. many cities thrown together into a collective heap to make an understatement of a megacity. dumped here from some redacted event that fucked up the whole city. A war? A siege? Leviathan bones from the black don't rest together with Broken machines unless there's conflict. Cycles? repeats?
>[x] fuck. To think I was so insane to not even notice THIS during my... previous venture in this godforsaken place.
>[x] this city. what remains of a city. but it's a city that's wholly intact. (if dope slapped by Kazuya say "thanks I needed that") a city means civilization. civilization means there are tools, weapons, innovation, modes of transportation, shelter, places to rest. If there's a city... that means there's resources. Where there's resources means tools and weapons, for us to acquire, appraise, and apply to repair, reinforce, and rearm. And if we're lucky, a better mode of transportation.
>[x] No. this place. the black. the black is the dregs, the black is the bottom of the barrel. this place is out of the ordinary. in a place like the black, machines and things like this from the red or our world don't end up piled up in one huge heap in a place like this. Unless this place has something of value to those who fell into the black. Something so valuable in the black that an entire civilization was built HERE of all places. Something... like a way out.
>[x] "We have to go down there. It's a waypoint, a destination, a goal. an objective. And if our 'fabled exit' doesn't exist in the center of all of that, we keep moving. we find another exit. Another objective, another destination, another waypoint. There's always a way out."
>[x] Kaz. I know it's super late for a confession, but I want to say that I'm glad I have you with me here. otherwise I definitely would've given up and gone insane. And I'm sorry my melodrama dragged you into this entire shitfest.

>>2541266
>And I'm sorry my melodrama dragged you into this entire shitfest.
He says, acting like a melodramatic bitch.

>>2541280
I'm playing the part of Joker's questionable sanity. melodrama is part of the norm.

>>2541266

Please don't make us sound like a faggot. Lengthy exposition a shit.

>>2540759
Rest well, you beautiful bastard. <3

>>2540721
I think this might be THE City as in where Anon lives. Like maybe the real areas that got destroyed are reflected here?

I don't know I'm probably way off maybe solar systems off

>>2540721

This opens up so many questions. If there was a civilization in this place, why doesn't Anon know about them? More, what did they build with? Why would anyone attack the fucking place?

>>2532727
H O L D
T H E
D O O R

>>2540728
>>2540729
>>2540737

> [X] "This - This makes no sense. How could something like this be here...?"

How could you have missed it? The city is a vast, sprawling thing, filling the world from horizon to horizon. To have never seen this place, in all its immensity...

A thought strikes you: Perhaps it didn't want to be found.

Even from this distance, some of the structures that make up the massive complex are hauntingly, eerily familiar. Jumbled together with no rhythm, no reason: the concrete slabs of modern prefabricated housing, forlorn in this alien place - ivory towers you may have glimpsed, once before, in some illustration or book - something that may have been one of any number of castles, growing outwards from the central crush like a parasite-

It is as if new cities have grown atop the old, as if there was never any end to the frantic pace of construction. As if some unseen hand - like a careless god - forced disparate creations together with no care for the outcome.

> [X] "There was a war, I think. A siege."

"...A war? Against whom? Why?"

You're not sure if anyone has the answers.

There, just beneath the walls - a half-dozen constructs, each the size of four or five tanks together. Each one was - is - covered in a shell-like carapace of overlapped armor, like huge beetles or horseshoe molluscs, partially entombed by shattered masonry and rubble.

It's not hard to imagine them in motion, hauling their immense bulks upwards, digging in with wheeled claws. At least one has pushed halfway through a breached gate, settled sideways on exploded wheels, blocking the entrance. Another monstrous siege engine, like a web of intermeshed girders, is eternally frozen in a half-unfurled position, a staggering lean. Stained, dented metal meshes give way to harpoon-barbs and weapon-mounts, all of them smashed nearly beyond recognition - leaving it hunched there, broken and derelict.

...Why were they trying to get in? And why did they stop?

(Continued)

>>2543837

But far, far more machines lie abandoned - torn and blasted-out - in a parade of dead metal grotesqueries. Or are they?

They don't feel dead. There's something in the air, something that reminds you of predators - wounded, but silent - waiting for the first hint of weakness. Waiting for the chance to spring.

Uneasy, Daegal cants his head to the side, considering the plain ahead. "If this was a siege," he says, slowly, almost to himself - "...Then where are the bodies...?"

> "Remember when Amaros talked about the wonders of the Red? About wondering where it all came from?
> "I think you understand it now, too. We, the Players, are like children playing with toys that we do not understand. This isn't just a parallel world - it's an entire fucking universe that was apparently inhabited at some point.

"I-"

His autoloader clunks, within him. "-Inhabited by *what*-?"

> [X] "We have to go down there."

The Joker's Memory - drawing you forward. Ever onwards.

Daegal stares, for a long, long moment. "Shit," he mutters, under his breath. "...If there's no other way..."

He grips the control frame's upthrust reins, and his destrier advances. There's something faltering in its pace, now - an unsteadiness that wasn't present before. Something flickers across Kazuya's field of vision, and he swears under his breath.

"Joker - I don't think it can carry us much further," he says - Looking ahead, to the vast span of space between the graveyard and the towering outer walls. "Must've damaged something, in the chase..."

His voice trails off, helpless. "Is there - is there anything we can do...?"

[ ] "Leave it here. We'll continue on foot."
[ ] "We need to rest - We'll find a place to hole up."
[ ] "Shoot it. It can't go any further."
[ ] "Can you get the control frame off?"
[ ] "It'll take us as far as it can go. We have to keep moving."
[ ] Free

YOU HAVE CONTROL

>>2543866
>[ ] "Shoot it. It can't go any further."
"It can still provide one of us with essence. I think it's about time you got to absorb some.
And don't worry, the thing that the frame controls is a fucking abomination anyway."

>[ ] "Can you get the control frame off?"

Actually, how damaged is the Scrander exactly? Is it intact enough to have Daegal test it out? Maybe his power can enhance it to a point where it becomes somewhat usable again.

>>2543866
"Finish it off. It will be a mercy at this point. Few fates are worse than becoming... this."

"You'll need to carry me until we find some way to fix my leg or the Scrander, though."

>>2543866
I figure we ought to eat it with Scylla so we can regenerate some of the damage we suffered.

>>2543915

> Actually, how damaged is the Scrander exactly? Is it intact enough to have Daegal test it out? Maybe his power can enhance it to a point where it becomes somewhat usable again.

(It's very comprehensively destroyed. My apologies, but tomorrow looks like an extremely busy day - I'll get a response up tomorrow, gentlemen.)

>>2543960
Thank you so much for this awesome quest!

>>2536512
JUST GIVE US THE SHITTY NOTES YOU FUCK, I'VE BEEN WAITING YEARS TO RUN THIS

>>2545823
jesus, i'd even just request them in an email

>>2536512
OP, would there be a format you'd be comfortable with which to hear out some of your fans' questions about the system, your designs, and other stuff you've left on the cutting room floor, like you said? I know I can't be the only long-term fan of your work who'd welcome that opportunity.

Also, how close would you say we are to the ending, or are our decisions ultimately the deciding factor in that?

>>2543866
[ ] Can you get the control frame off
[ ] Eat it with consume and scylla

>>2543837
>[ ] "Shoot it. It can't go any further."
>[ ] "Can you get the control frame off?"

>>2545823

(The problem is that most of it is plot-relevant. I'd be giving away substantial parts of the plot if I did that, too. Same for the lack of important segments like a dedicated armory, balanced character generation, and progression trees.)

>>2545998

(I can be contacted at jokerquestop@gmail.com

Also, I'd say the latter. I can't accurately predict the former.)

>>2543915
>>2546531
>>2546543

> [X] "Shoot it. It can't go any further."

Daegal blanches. "Shoot it?" he echoes. "I thought-"

>>2543951
>>2543956

"I - I know. I know that, but..."

He looks down, staring at the ground for a long, long moment. "...I know that."

> "You'll need to carry me until we find some way to fix my leg or the Scrander, though."

You test your leg - Not good. You can see actuators and servoes through the rent in the armor, where jagged scraps of plating are - slowly, inexorably - cutting into the myomer fibre, like splintered shards of bone into muscle. Carefully, you ease yourself from the destrier: You don't think the limb can take your weight, not in this condition.

Silence looms, for a long, blank moment.

"-I think you should do it," Daegal says, finally. "Whatever you're using - the thing that's fixing you - it's not working as well as it should." You hear the low hum of his Argus Sensor, the wan blue light of his helm's optics - A deep gash in the metal, just over one cracked lens, where Phantom Edge's scythe sliced into him. "The explosion...You look bad. Not just - physically, I mean. You look...really messed-up."

Then-

"...Are you sure you're all right?"

He's more perceptive than he lets on, sometimes.

> [X] "Can you get the control frame off?"

"Th - the frame?"

Carefully, Daegal dismounts. He rests one hand on the intricate brass restraints, so recurve and sharp they resemble the jaws of a bear-trap. "...I-" he begins, "-I'm not sure where to start. There's...Some of the filaments reach all the way to the spine. "I'd need-"

Kazuya trails off, his shoulders lifting in a shrug. "-A long time. I don't know how long."

(Continued)

>>2543956
>>2546531

There is a sibilant, rattling hiss, as SCYLLA's blunt, eyeless maws unfold from your shoulders. Daegal flinches back, at the sight of them - as one shoots forward, like a striking snake. The Corrector is locked in enforced stillness, held in place by the very restraints that allow a rider to control it-

And it has no defense at all, as SCYLLA'S teeth clamp down around that elongated skull.

It is as swift and as merciful an end as you can make it. There is a brittle crunch, a low shriek of deforming metal, shearing beneath the incredible pressure. You hear something that might be bones giving way, as the Corrector seems to slump forward - it seems to collapse inwards upon itself as it topples, something dark and arterial pooling beneath it.

It kicks, once, then is still. Motes of Essence swirl around it, the accumulators in your armor filling the air with a low hum, as they drink it in. The swirl of light is dim, more red than green, sullen firefly sparks that ignite a phantom ache at the base of your skull, as the Leech Module buzzes to fractious life. New armor overlays itself over the micro-fissures and deep gashes in your cuirass, the uneasy drag of your damaged leg giving way to a fuller range of articulation. Inwardly, your gyroscope hums, recalibrating.

Uncertain light fumes at your left arm, at the twisted barrels of your ruined Plasma Vulcans, momentarily stilling the twitching fingers of your right hand. But that's all it does.

(HP: 56.52%)

Better - Not enough, but when is it ever?

"At least-" Daegal says, and already it sounds forced. "-At least I won't have to carry you."

Everything decays here. Here, the rules are different - Even the accumulation of Essence is a difficult prospect. To have enough to sustain your armor - enough to merely keep going, to live to fight another day...

-sometimes, that's as much as anyone can ask for.

Kazuya doesn't look at you, as he steps forward. His gauntlet closes on the upraised grips of the control frame, as he plants a boot against the Corrector's fallen bulk, and *pulls*. There is a sickening sound, a meat sound, a wet ripping tear - His strength is sufficient to shift the already-decaying weight, even as he turns his head away. Something comes free, so suddenly he stumbles back - He holds a segment of the frame, curved like a yoke, more like the throttle and handlebars of a motorcycle than a saddle. There is a snickering hiss, as the filaments withdraw-

The fluids leaking from the Corrector's headless corpse come measureably faster, now.

(Continued)

>>2546796

"Don't," he says. "Just...don't say anything."

The frame folds in upon itself, and vanishes from his grasp - swallowed up by the red light of the Vector Trap. With a visible effort, Kazuya turns away, lifting his left arm towards the horizon: His Argus Sensor sweeping across the landscape of broken and twisted machines.

"...No active readings," Daegal says, almost to himself. "I think - Whatever they were before...They're just scrap, now. Just...dead." Perhaps he's saying it to reassure himself, because there's something uneasy, something uncertain, in his stance - His helm angled to suggest a reluctance to proceed, a quiet dread. "-That's what...That's what this is telling me."

[ ] "What's wrong?"
[ ] "I know. I don't like the look of this place, either."
[ ] "We could find a way around it. It might give them time to catch up, though."
[ ] "-I don't like it either, but it's the quickest way to the city."
[ ] "At least there's plenty of cover."
[ ] "There might be something we can use, down there."
[ ] "It's shelter, at least for a while."
[ ] Free

YOU HAVE CONTROL

>>2546828
>[ ] "There might be something we can use, down there."
"We can't waste possible resources."

>[ ] "What's wrong?"

>>2546841
This

>>2546828
"I know you don't like the place, but we should take the risk and try getting in. We might to find things we won't be able to anywhere else in the Black."

"Even shelter would be good enough."

Just wanted to put this in minds

>IV - INVICTUS

>I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.

>(COST: 13% ENCROACHMENT)

>The inherent inviolability of the Red Joker's armor is a subject of much debate - like much else, the reason for the Red Joker's seeming immunity to certain effects, let alone the nature of that immunity, is something that has never been fully determined. Regardless, the armor seems to actively resist attempts to alter it, no matter how insidious; With this power, you can extend the armor's imperviousness to a significantly wider range of effects.

Also OP do you have another link to what equipment we have available to use right now? The link in the OP isnt working

>>2546877
Bad idea.
First we need a bigger health buffer.

Man, I hope Daegal will finally get his first upgrade at some point.
And we need to get some, as well.

>>2546877
Never mind the link is working just face clicked on something else

>>2546877

(My apologies, do you mean the pastebin link? The PDF is still working, I think. Unfortunately, I must turn in, but I'll continue once I have the chance.)

>>2546899
I was talking about the pastebin that lists all our equipment, HP, meter, etc etc when I first clicked on it I didnt see anything but I just clicked too fast and clicked off of it.

I'm looking at it now. The armoury 6.5
Is it up to date?

>>2546903

(Yes, that's the most current one.)

>>2546905
K. Thanks for running OP. Get some rest and good food man/woman/it

>>2546905
Thanks so much, rest well!

>>2546731
Honestly, I never really considered balance to be a super huge factor in Joker Quest or a game based around it.

I might think this because its the QM or GM's job to manage the exact pacing of the encounters. Work players up to each increasingly difficult challenge, while the players decide if they want to try something a bit harder or play it easy. The red world itself seems pretty indifferent to relative power levels if one person challenges another. It doesn't matter if its a proper duel between equally leveled players, or a random scrub challenging the Red Joker for the umpteenth time. The major difference would be what kind of loot and xp they drop. But those kinds of encounters just naturally happen as each player makes their own calls of what they want to risk.

But to try and balance the skills and weapons almost seems a bit silly in the red world. Its a world running on rule of cool, and honestly fairly natural and chaotic mechanics. Not everything is created equally. Sure you have general trends of melee being really great at racking up meter, while ranged has the advantage of being ranged. But as a whole, there are so many different options, weapons, characters, builds that there is no practical way to make everything balanced. Sure this means someone might stumble upon an 'optimal build', but chances are others will have the fancy gimmicks, raw power, skill, or access to OP/cheat mechanics to level the playing field. Someone using really powerful guns? Hit them with a rust storm or codeburst. Your fellow player's character is a bit crap, stat-wise? Give them a good relic or force them to really rely on strategy and planning their engagements. Or find a niche in a team rather than running solo like Joker does.

Maybe its because we've been playing as the Red Joker this entire time, and everything we have is OP. But I think it'd be interesting to play as a random mook in the Red World. Horrific abominations and assholes to defend against. No fancy suit or giant plot magnet strapped to your face. Let people pick weird weapons. They might find uses or synergies for it that make it above and beyond what others thought it could do. Hell, Bishimon spent two fricken levels on head vulcans of all things. Giving the player the option to pick absolutely ridiculous upgrades and builds seems like half the fun of making a Red-World avatar. And the ability for the player to screw themselves over for getting caught up on the wrong side of this hell.

>>2549022
The balance should be based around a point-buy system that is somewhat randomized.
Just look at Haze. Horrifyingly powerful but also pretty gimped.

I assume that, as essence also seems to signify luck in the real world, people have different karma levels that they start out with. So on character creation you'd roll for your karma level, which would determine the amount of points that you have to build your character with.
Other attributes, such as the material you are made of (I'm eager to see a full list of materials as well as elements such as tachyons), whether you start out with relics and whether you are actually biped could also be rolled. Or maybe there's a simple system where you roll to either have a choice of ordinary frame, (ceramite or whatever) a fucked up frame (organic, curses, maybe even moratorium), something weird (shark man) or a special frame (tachyons, neutronium, Joker) with most people getting the ordinary stuff.
Could also be modified on a campaign-level, if the GM wants a high level campaign like we currently have or if they want to play Red World spelunking with Seisin High girls.

I think some randomness would suit the apparently random nature of red world avatars. It also fits the lethal nature of the setting, as it would be easier to create a new character thanks to a die's ability to give you ideas for unique loadouts.

Maybe you could make the basic frame random, then allow players to determine which kinds of upgrade paths they get. Stuff like "I got a melee dude, but I want a ranged option for my upgrade tree to offset the range disadvantage, I'll forego the relic tree for that", which the GM then determines to be head vulcans.
I think it's important to keep players guessing as to the exact nature of their upgrades. Part of the charm of the quest is its "take it or don't" approach - you got your upgrade and now you got to live with it, even if it's head vulcans or self-aware tentacles. It also fits with the plug and play madness nature of the setting. You got a piece of metal that you know nothing about, vaguely attach it to your body and then your body knows how to use it - and it in fact already has systems in place to interface with the metal bit by sliding some armor panels around to expose connectors or something.

>>2546841
>>2546861
>>2546862

> [X] "There might be something we can use, down there. We can't waste possible resources."

Daegal turns his gleaming helm away, muttering something under his breath, something you can't quite catch. You're not sure, but you think he might be saying - "-don't want anything to do with this-"

> "I know you don't like the place, but we should take the risk and try getting in. We might to find things we won't be able to anywhere else in the Black."
> "Even shelter would be good enough."

"...Yeah," he says, uneasily. His Argus Sensor hums and murmurs, as he sweeps it from left to right. "I don't like it, but - yeah. It's better than being stuck in the open..."

Kazuya trails off, but it's easy to finish his thought.

...than being caught in the open when they arrive.

> [X] "What's wrong?"

He hesitates, as if wondering where to start. There is something ominous, something unnatural, about the twisted graveyard of machines that rings the city, that stretches as far as you can see. A sense of something restless, something poised and waiting...

-But it's something else. Something more immediate, something that's struck him as deeply uncanny.

"I - Joker, look. I...don't really know much about this, but - the spread of them. It's all wrong."

Daegal points ahead, indicating the tangled maze before you - and how it thins out, closer to the impossible city.

"If this was a siege - Wouldn't they, I don't know, try to get all of this as close as possible? I mean, it should be more of a mess there-" A sweeping gesture indicates the blackened, battered spaces beneath the walls, still festooned with the corpses of climbing, crawling machines - "...And less of one here."

"But instead-" He ducks his head, as you pass beneath overhanging coils of what appears to be barbed wire, the wind gusting through the razored coils. "-They thin out, closer to the walls."

Closer, now. You glimpse the segmented bodies of piston-driven, wormlike tunneling engines, lolling half-dislocated with their shattered cockpit canopies gaping. There are ungainly piles of spherical devices - like lethal baubles, grotesque as rotten fruit - crushed beneath the vicious squat shapes of treaded behemoths, their monstrous shapes casting hideous silhouettes against the sullen sky.

(Continued)

>>2549221

There is a pattern to the destruction, to the disorder. At the graveyard's outer boundaries, the tangle of machines is at its worse - A jumbled, half-crushed morass of destruction, alien machines joined in hideous amalgamations of form. Scissor-limbs lying at drunken dead angles, spikes rammed through ruined hulls and drive connectors, broken open to the air-

"...And look at this. It looks like they collided with each other - crushed each other. Why would they do that?"

Then, more slowly now-

"An - Joker. It's like - I can't be sure, but it's almost as if..."

[ ] "They were trying to get away."
[ ] "They were pursuing something."
[ ] "The defenders had machines of their own."
[ ] "They were attacked from behind."
[ ] Free

YOU HAVE CONTROL

>>2549223
>[ ] "The defenders had machines of their own."
So, best case we get some pristine war machines that we can steal inside.
Worst case we'll be assaulted by twenty armory guardians.

>>2549223
>[ ] "The defenders had machines of their own."
"Hopefully we can salvage something. I wouldn't mind a proper ride. Stay cautious, though"

>>2549228
>>2549258

> [X] "The defenders had machines of their own."

It must've been a counterattack. Woe machines, rolling out from the gates, to wreak devastation amidst the besiegers. From the look of things, the defenders must have had horrors of their own to match - But it's nearly impossible to tell who was fighting whom, the bewildering profusion of arcade, alien machines defying an easy answer.

> [X] "Hopefully we can salvage something. I wouldn't mind a proper ride. Stay cautious, though"

"Salvage..." Daegal echoes, uncertain. His gaze goes distant, abstracted, towards the obscene burred bodies of some twelve-legged walker, slumped and lying amid stacks of its own shot-off legs.

He doesn't look optimistic.

Forward, through the devastation. Through fragments, shells, hulks, wrecks, scraps. Past mounds of metal shapes, lumpy hillocks amongst the lurching parade of wrecks. The path between the piles of dead metal is a treacherous one, made worse by the teetering shapes of smashed war machines, heaped five times as high as you could hope to reach. Underfoot, parts of the ground have been fused to black glass - your boots crunching little craters into the surface.

Elsewhere, powdery earth the color of runnelled rust shifts underfoot, a low, deep groan echoing hollowly through the vast space - Metal settling, perhaps. The wind, maybe. But it's enough to make Daegal hesitate - glancing up, apprehensively, as if expecting a landslide.

The walls of wreckage on all sides, still bristling with spikes, with barbs - All that dead metal makes for an unpleasant burr in your targeting sensors, hunting, seeking, finding only false returns. Your spinal gyros whirr, as you find your footing on the shattered hulk of something hunched and gutted, something that might once have been a tank - reaching out for a new handhold-

"-Wait."

Daegal's optics glow a flickering, actinic blue - His arm held forward before him, like a diving rod. "I've found...There's something."

(Continued)

File: joker simulation.jpg (42 KB, 738x1081)

42 KB JPG

>>2549283

He looks up at a trio of walkers, piled roughly against each other - their legs at half extension, the free space beneath the jumble giving way to a tangle of pitted and broken debris. "Look - Where the canopy's been torn off. There's...Something's still active. I think it may b - Joker, hold on."

Your gauntlet's talons dig into the metal skin of a fallen leviathan, gouging yourself handholds as you slide down. When your boots touch earth, you crunch forward over the scattered components, the occasional gear or fragment of plating scattering, flashing in the light.

There is no mistaking the blast holes in the wreck's hull. Sustained fire from an energy weapon has gutted it, split it wide open. When you peer in through the rents, you see a blackened space, burnt-out - char pitting the walls. Shapes, too, vaguely human-

You reach out. Your hand closes on a shoulder, and you pull. A figure, blank but articulated, flops out. Joints clack like a doll's, as you catch it just in time to stop it from scattering against the ground. The face is a splintered mass, riven with flaws - like a geode to which a hammer has been taken. It is partially melted, one arm clattering hollowly against the fire-scorched torso...

You hear scuffing boots, the scraping trail as Daegal slides down, to join you in the hollow. He stares - then stiffens, with an muffled curse.

"That's-"

Servoes hum, as Daegal tenses - the mechanical equivalent of a flinch.

"...That's one of them. The - the *things* we saw, up there. Akira - He called them..."

Simulation Bodies. Player proxies.

It's blank, drained of color and animation like the others. The severity of damage has stripped it of all identification. Except-

Your gaze falls on something. A mark, a symbol, on one pauldron - above the ragged stump where the rest of the Simulation Body's arm has been shorn off. It looks-

PROCESSING...

Static flares, across your vision. A spike of feedback rakes through you, makes your grasping hand convulse involuntarily. Familiarity, as immediate as it is alien, jags through your endosteel frame, micro-contacts through simulated nerves-

"...ker-! Anon-"

You barely hear him. There is a roar of white noise across your auditory sensors, your HUD filling with snow-

And then Daegal's hovering over you, his shadow slanting into the charred compartment, apprehensive. You're hunched over, the static-laden buzz becoming a drone-

"...you all right?" he's saying, one hand on the Immolator. "-Are you okay?"

PROCESSING...

That mark - It was made by the Red Joker. No, by a Red Joker - One you've never seen. Somehow, somehow, you know this.

[ ] "I - I think so."
[ ] "That mark - that sign, there...The Red Joker made it."
[ ] "No - Something's wrong with my systems."
[ ] "Just...Give me a minute."
[ ] Free

YOU HAVE CONTROL

>>2549294
>[X] "Just...Give me a minute."
>[X] "That mark - that sign, there...The Red Joker made it."

>>2549294
>[ ] "That mark - that sign, there...The Red Joker made it."

Have we actually told him how you become the Red Joker? Was it implied when we told him the entire story?

Can we try to interface with them?
Tell Kazuya to keep a lookout while we try it.


So Kazuya is getting information fed from nowhere, we get PTSD flashbacks and apparently some information infusion as well.
Could it be that our extended stay causes a kind of mental alignment, where soul and armor get better in interfacing with each other?

>>2549294
>> "That mark - that sign, there...The Red Joker made it."

>> Inspect the shoulders of a few other simulation bodies for the same mark.

OP, is it as though it was wearing it like a crest, or like we used to mark our opponents?

>>2549299

(It's wearing it like a badge or an insignia, yes.)

>>2549294
>[ ] "That mark - that sign, there...The Red Joker made it."
"Not any I know, but still one of my predecessors. A Red Joker was fighting for or commanding one of the sides."

>>2549297
>>2549298
>>2549299
>>2549310

> [X] "Just...Give me a minute."

He exhales, a shuddering breath he doesn't need.

"Yeah," Daegal says. "I saw you fall, and I just thought-"

His voice trails off.

> [X] "That mark - that sign, there...The Red Joker made it."

"You - what?"

There's alarm in his voice now, as he peers forward and into the wreck. The stanchions of the machine protrude from the metal hull like splayed ribs, the hull crushed and split like an old can - His voice echoing hollowly within the confines.

"...There's more of them in there..."

> "Not any I know, but still one of my predecessors. A Red Joker was fighting for or commanding one of the sides."

"I-"

Kazuya hesitates. The implications are something, clearly, he doesn't want to consider. Instead, he says, softly: "...But which one?"

> PROCESSING...

You reach in - Your gauntlet closing on an arm, protruding from the fused mass of Simulation Bodies. It breaks off, with a brittle crack - fragments of itself plinking against the ruptured floor.

No mistake about it. Pulled free, hanging limp in your hand - this one bears the mark, too.

Something clicks in your head, as the drone fades to nothing. The symbol takes on a meaning, now - the arcs and lines depicted a snarl, teeth bared. Stylized eyes, too many, staring, watchful. Symbols of aversion, of warding. An abjuration, against-

No, not evil. Corruption, perhaps. Static, unblinking, ever-watchful.

You understand it, and the revelation chills you.

(OBLIVION'S HUSK UPDATED: XII - SIGNS OF THE RIGHTEOUS

https://pastebin.com/5Bs9QgfY)

(Continued)

>>2549338

Daegal eases himself past you, into the machine's compartment. You hear his footfalls, his cautious gait carrying him forward-

He stops. You hear him swear.

Slowly - Ever-so-slowly - he backs out, moving with exaggerated caution. Carefully, very carefully, he eases himself to the ground - Taking a long step back. Then another, as if resisting the urge to run.

"Joker," he says, very quietly.

"-There's a bomb. It's..."

He looks away, and there's that mechanical flinch again.

"...It's a big one."

[ ] "A what-?"
[ ] "...Is it live?"
[ ] "Can you...make it safe?"
[ ] "Can you set it to detonate?"
[ ] "How big?"
[ ] "All right. We go, now."
[ ] Free

YOU HAVE CONTROL

>>2549348
>[ ] "...Is it live?"
>[ ] "Can you...make it safe?"
If no, then
>[ ] "All right. We go, now."

>>2549348
>[X] "How big?"
>[X] "...Is it live?"
If it is
>[X] "Can you...make it safe?"
If not
>[X] "All right. We go, now."

>[X] "...is it live?"
>[X] "Can you... make it safe?"

It's good to have this back, OP.

>>2549348
>[ ] "...Is it live?"
If we can take it with us, we can build a trap for our persuers.

>>2549348
>[x] "Can you...make it safe?"
>[x] "Can you set it to detonate?"

>>2549351
>>2549355
>>2549356
>>2549363
>>2549381

> [X] "...Is it live?"

There is the clunk of Daegal's autoloader - the machine equivalent of dry-swallowing.

"Yes," he says, empathically. "Yes, it is."

> [X] "How big?"

"It's not like...It's-"

He wavers, at a loss for words. "Joker, it's..." Daegal's gleaming helm turns up and away, towards one of the barred gates - barely visible, at this distance - that ring the perimeter of the vast city. Bound in iron, armored with a portcullis that bristles with vicious spikes, it looks like it could stand forever.

"...You see that? This - It's meant to blast that open. Right through."

Kazuya pauses, to let it sink in. "If it goes off - That's it for us. They won't even find pieces..."

> [X] "Can you...make it safe?"

"I-" he hesitates. "...I think so. The controls, I could-"

His shoulders lift, in a helpless shrug. "I know I can, but I don't know...why I know."

> [X] "Can you set it to detonate?"

"Yes, but wh-"

That's when realization dawns, and he just stares.

"You're mad," Kazuya says. "Joker - Please don't ask what I think you're going to ask-"

> If we can take it with us, we can build a trap for our pursuers.

"Wh - No. No, no way in hell. If we take it with us - If it goes off-!"

He sounds stricken.

"-Tell me you're joking. That you're not trying to kill us both."

Daegal stands up to your steady, level stare for an admirably long time. Then-

"All right. All right - I could...I could detach it from the hull. The - the warhead has a suspensor field, so we don't have to *carry* it, but..."

A pleading note enters his voice.

"Anon, *please* don't make me do this. You're not...serious about this, are you?"

[ ] Free

YOU HAVE CONTROL

>>2549439
>"Anon, *please* don't make me do this. You're not...serious about this, are you?"
"We have two options. Either you work with it now, while we are pretty safe, or you'll need to work with it under pressure, when our enemies re-appear and we need a way out.
Can you think of anything else that would save us if they catch up?

At the very least, I need you to set it up so that we can run back here and prime its detonation.
Could an explosion detonate the charge? I could prepare my own remote explosive for this purpose, so that we won't have to be anywhere near the blast radius once we need the warhead."

>"I know I can, but I don't know...why I know."
"At least you don't go unconscious when your armor does weird shit, in contrast to mine."

>>2549439
"I can't and wouldn't try force you. But it could save us in the long run."

>>2549455
>>2549455

I think we should take it into the city, in case we need to blow up something really big. This is a bunker-buster, not a frag.

>>2549458
We can use Shroud clones to have them run into the blast area, then detonate it remotely via HARROW, unless explosions can't set the warhead off.

>>2549439
“I won’t force you.”
“You know because you aren’t the first. I wasn’t here, but Joker was. And so was Daegle,”

File: Spoiler Image (518 KB, 1238x1920)

518 KB JPG

>>2549468
Where am I? This weird dream again, déjà vu!

Do we really want to go down this rabbit hole? We don't even know if VOIVOD really was another finalist.

>>2549455
>>2549457
>>2549458
>>2549459

> "I can't and wouldn't try force you. But it could save us in the long run."

He stares at you, for a long, long moment.

"Fuck," Daegal mutters, under his breath. His gleaming fingers rake against his helmet - a human gesture, pushing back nonexistant hair. The motion startles him, and he looks down at his gauntlet...As if remmebering, abruptly, where he is.

As if he could forget.

"...All right. I'll try-"

He doesn't say more, but you can tell he really wants to.

Daegal vanishes back into the machine's innards. You glimpse a terminal structure of plates and spines and glowing orange slots, an amber light flaring as he lays hands on the interface - It trembles beneath his gauntlets, golden filaments snaking across the surfaces...

You look away, back the way you've come - Watching the rise, for any signs of motion within the fungal forest. At least you'll see them coming, this way...Assuming they don't have a means of concealment. Assuming that they don't know this place better than you do.

You wait, you watch, and see nothing. Behind you, you hear Kazuya swearing, under his breath. You can hear strange noises, a wan glow at your back.

It's better not to look. One way or another, it'll be over soon.

And then-

(Continued)

>>2549480

There, at the treeline - A stirring, a suggestion of movement. Glimpsed, then gone. Some trick of the fog? You might not have your Auspex, but there's nothing wrong with your optics...You think. And you can't take that chance.

Kazuya. Hurry.

He goes quiet. It's that bad. Light pulses at your back, one last time, like distant fireflies...To be replaced by a low, almost subliminal hum. "I've-"

Low, hushed now. Afraid of being overheard.

"...I have it."

And at last, you turn. Moving with exquisite care, Kazuya's gauntlets clamp down on the carrying handles built into the side of a vaguely cylindrical shape, a form measuring about three meters along its longest edge. It is - against all odds - like a hollow case of glass and filigree, full of fireflies and cold white wasps of light. Metal ripples against metal like sunlight over running water, the structures of the warhead shifting in silver threads and wheels, flaring and coiling like mercury against black oil.

It is thick with the stench - the sense of - dying stars.

It floats. Less than a quarter-meter above the ground. For one heart-stopping moment, it *wobbles* - like a rowing boat in slack water - as Daegal eases it forward...But then your hands close on the grip, and the movement smoothens out.

"Don't let go," Kazuya warns, utterly without levity. "This thing...It's supposed to have four people carrying it. You see? The grips here and here...Two on each side. We can manage with two at minimum, but less than that..."

Faintly, now - "I - I don't think it'd go off if it hits the ground. I don't want to find out, either."

It sounds like he's pleading with you.

(Continued)

>>2549510

A glance at the treeline reveals nothing more...Or does it? Another shift, another ripple, a *stirring*...

You think you might be out of time.

You look ahead, to the piled-up machinery, the barbed labyrinth it forms - Long, cramped aisles, between torn-in-half chassis and half-collapsed frames. A long row of machine-corpses, piling up in a rough cairn - Or deeper, into the ever-shifting maze, groaning in the uncertain wind.

[ ] Go for the open (and fastest) route to the city's walls.
[ ] Look for another way into the city.
[ ] Stay in cover, though it'd slow your speed to a crawl.
[ ] Look for a place to plant the warhead.
[ ] Find a place to take shelter.
[ ] Prepare an ambush.
[ ] Free

YOU HAVE CONTROL

>>2549546
>[ ] Look for another way into the city.
Send some Shroud decoys along the other routes.

>>2549560
Seconding this.

Does our new ability only allow us to inscribe runes on our armor, or could we mark Daegal's or the bomb?

>>2549569

(It hasn't been unlocked yet. You'll need to select that Oblivion's Husk ability the next time you level up.)

>>2549560
>>2549569
If they haven't seen us yet, DON'T send out shroud decoys!

>>2549573
Good to know. Can we then inscribe an Exec_Barrier rune on ourself quickly?

>>2549577

(You could activate EXEC_BARRIER, but you don't have that Oblivion's Husk ability yet. The runes granted by XII - SIGNS OF THE RIGHTEOUS have very different effects.)

>>2549576
>>2549560
I'd say we hide somewhere where there's a chokepoint. Once Daegal senses them coming near, we charge Fusion Annihilator and fry them the moment they enter the chokepoint.

>>2549614

(Gentlemen, my apologies - I'd love to continue, but it's extremely late. I'll respond tomorrow.)

>>2549664
Okay, rest well!

>>2549664
OP I gotta know, how much of this have you pulled out of your ass and how much was buried in your notes?

>>2552183

(Pretty much all of this has been crafted from scratch, over the course of the long hiatus. I had cursory notes, but I didn't expect you to physically end up here.)

>>2549560

This. Don't play games with our hunters, let's just get into the city as quickly as possible.

>>2549576
>>2549560
>>2549569
>>2549614
>>2552433

> [X] Look for another way into the city.

Hoisted between the two of you, suspensor fields humming serenely, the warhead hovers on a field of arcane energies - It weighs nothing at all, but the dreadful import of your burden makes it heavier than a mountain. Daegal's gauntlets clench down on the handles in a white-knuckled grip, his boots scuffing against the red dust of the earth as you haul it up the slope, straining side-by-side. He's swearing under his breath, flinching every time the bomb veers close to an obstacle - One of the many flanges and jagged fragments protruding from the shattered wrecks on all sides...

You wish he'd stop doing that. It's troubling.

Ever-so-slightly hunched, Daegal peers ahead - his optics whirring as they refocus. "Joker...It's right out in the open," he says, almost hissing the words. The city presents a forbidding rampart, the great ebon walls - adamantium and obsidian - garlanded with razor wire and the hulks of burned-out climbing engines. The gates, arrayed at irregular intervals, are in various states of disrepair: Some continue to stand, defiant, unbreached. Others have been blasted open, ripped off their hinges, to give passage to the invading armies-

The closest is half-blocked by the charred bulk of an overturned siege engine, put to use as a gargantuan battering ram. It made it through the gates - and that was as far as it went, nearly sheared in half by some terrible, immense force. But the approach to the gate is an open space, startlingly clear of obstruction, marred only by the deep, frantic tracks gouged into the ground...

-Almost as if there was an abrupt, all-out retreat.

You eye the approach ahead. The density and the thickness of the forbidding walls, the hard points and pilings of long-ago defenses. There has to be something, some point of weakness. Something-

...a new city built on the ruins of the old, sinking ever-further into oblivion...

Wait. You stop, in your tracks - Your gaze panning across the graveyard of machines.

There is something.

It takes you a moment before you see what you're looking for - A crater, far larger and deeper than the ones left by collisions or detonations. A yawning pit, framed by snaking feeder lines and hoses, severed cables protruding from the lip like a writhing nest of serpents.

With all these strange and terrible machines on hand, it was only a matter of time before the attackers attempted to tunnel beneath the walls.

(Continued)

>>2552480

"...We're going down there?"

Kazuya sounds dubious, as he peers into the gloom - At the tunnel that slices through the rock, leaving an unnaturally smooth surface like glass. It has been clean-cut on a massive scale, like a hot knife through butter, giving way to unforgiving darkness.

"-You're saying...they tunneled their way into the city-?" He tilts his head back, contemplating the vast distance between the strange graveyard and the eerie, impossible city far ahead. "...All that way?"

He wavers, hesitating. You can tell he doesn't want to go down there, down into the dark-

Somewhere behind you, a shrill cry - warped by distance - sounds. Another. It sounds like a pained shriek, like the nerve-shredding wail from a tortured porcelain mask, a death-scream captured and sealed away for a new, horrid purpose.

It sounds like you're out of time.

Daegal stiffens, on the opposite side of the warhead. "Shit," he breathes, something jittery in the motion - a slow-brewing panic he's fighting to control. "Shit, they're here..."

But they may not have seen you yet. The Assault Shroud sheds it's shimmering fibers - A ghostly silhouette sliding from you, then another. They drift away, in a silent pantomine of motion, wending their way amid the ruin, seeking the path of least resistance-

(ASSAULT SHROUD: 12%)

Daegal sees what you're doing. His black cloak frays, shedding tatters like a whirl of dead leaves - phantom images coalescing, their colors oddly dim, drifting in a desultory, spectral way in every direction except your own...

It's the tunnel or nothing.

As always, you lead the way.

(Continued)

>>2552492

The tunnels are dark, hazed with heat. The vitreous walls gleam, as Daegal lifts the Condemner in one hand - risking the light, the flames settling to a steady burn, writhing up the blade to the tip where it spills away into nothing. Flickering yellow light fills the dark space, casting off shadows-

"You think we lost them?"

There's a tension in Daegal's voice, his flaming sword lighting the way. You can tell that he wants to run, to sprint ahead, but the burden you share - bulky, silent with a terrible promise, like a landbound torpedo - forces both of you into an almost leisurely stroll. It's clearly fraying Kazuya's patience.

[ ] "No. It's only a matter of time before they catch up."
[ ] "Only if they're *very* stupid."
[ ] "There's always a chance."
[ ] "They'll find the pit eventually. Then they'll be after us again."
[ ] "I'm not sure. They'll enter the city eventually, I think."
[ ] "This is as good a place as any. We'll prime the warhead here."
[ ] Free

YOU HAVE CONTROL

>>2552507
>[ ] "They'll find the pit eventually. Then they'll be after us again."
>[ ] "This is as good a place as any. We'll prime the warhead here."

>>2552507
[ ] "I'm not sure. They'll enter the city eventually, I think."
[ ] "This is as good a place as any. We'll prime the warhead here."

Is disguising the warhead a possibility, either with our assault shroud or surrounding debris/wires, or is is too obvious to do so?

>>2552512

(The tunnel is mostly clear of obstructions, but you could attempt to disguise it with your Assault Shroud. You could set the warhead to go off on a time delay, or when someone approaches it. Note that the latter means you won't be able to retrace your steps.)

>>2552515

Can we blast out a chunk of the tunnel wall, and put the bomb inside so they can't see it?

>>2552515
My fear of the proximity method is if golden boy can just fly over the fucking wall and then we're trapped with him. The time delay is also an issue if he comes too soon or too late. Is there any way we could rig a detonator with one of our weapons or relics?

>>2552518

(Yes, but it'd cost you time. More powerful weapons would quicken the process, but it'd attract attention. Also, your intuition tells you that using destructive weapons near the warhead is a bad idea.)

>>2552519

(Daegal could attempt something, but it'd be difficult. Also, given the magnitude of the explosion, it would be unsafe to be anywhere within the tunnel when the warhead detonates.)

>>2552524
Fuck it. Set a time switch for however long we think it will take for our foes to reach us, and pull back to be able to jockey our foes into a destructible position.

>>2552515
>>2552518
>>2552519
A time delay would likely be best, as it would function as a distraction.
Use FORTRESS_MODE to make the tunnel tighter, in order to slow down their escape route if they actually decide to enter the tunnel and try to flee.
In fact, a shroud structure blocking part of the way might entice their curious side.

Has anyone got an idea of how to notify our enemies of the location of the warhead?
Can we cause an explosion at the entrance once we reach the exit somehow? Are our weapons capable of that kind of precision?

>>2552534
>>2552533

This is a fucking bad idea. You do not fuck around with explosives. Just set it on a proximity fuse and get out. A time delay is not workable.

>>2552533
>>2552534

(If you're looking to set a time delay, how long do you want to set it for? It's uncertain how long they'll take to find the tunnel, but I'm open to estimates.)

I think proximity would be the wiser choice.

>>2552541
>>2552537
>>2552545
If we go with proximity, the mine needs to be hidden via Shroud.

If we go with time delay... we'd really need a way to estimate time. Closest thing I could say is "set it to explode when we reach the exit at normal speed, then sprint to the exit to make sure that we will be able to get out in any case".
We will, at the very least, get a nice distraction.
Though our sprinting energy signature might cause issues...


So yeah, I vote for proximity. It all else fails, we can still explode it with a missile.
Man, I wish we had an interceptor.

>>2552563
>>2552545
>>2552537
>>2552534
>>2552533
>>2552519
>>2552518
>>2552515

(Gentlemen, to confirm: You'll be setting it as a proximity device, and concealing it with the Assault Shroud?)

>>2552563
For once, I miss those stupid drones.

Changing vote to proximity + assault shroud camouflage.

>>2552569
Seems like that's the consensus. Time delay is nice, but with no real way of drawing them into the tunnel at a convenient time we're best off setting proximity and hoping someone steps on the trap.

> [X] "They'll find the pit eventually. Then they'll be after us again."

Kazuya's shoulders slump. Static rasps from his speakers, as he breathes out.

"...I was just hoping-"

His words trail off to a wince, aware of the slow - achingly slow - progress that you're making. He's glancing back, over his shoulder - Quick, almost furtive glances - as if he expects your hunters to erupt from the darkness any moment now-

It's not paranoia if they really are out to get you.

> [X] "This is as good a place as any. We'll prime the warhead here."

"Wha-"

He stops in his tracks, so suddenly the warhead nearly slides out of his grasp. You compensate, but it's a close thing - It tilts to the side, a boat rocking in slack water, the edge scraping against the flattened ground...

No explosion. No obliterating light.

A moment passes, and you breathe - so to speak - again.

Daegal ducks his head, at the lapse - He's instinctively hunched over, turning his head away. As if that could possibly protect him from the blast.

"You mean - Here? Now?"

Servoes whirr in his arms, as you ease your lethal cargo to the ground. The burning brand in Daegal's hand seems to shiver, as he goes to one knee before the warhead. For long, long moments, he merely kneels - You can sense the trepidation, writ large in his posture, a hesitation that in no way reassures you.

(Continued)

>>2552615

And then - with an aching precision - he reaches out. His hand settles somewhere near the base of the device - a pale amber glow playing around his fingers, in slow ripples of lightning. It changes, from yellow to orange, running along hidden seams - metal shifting, reconfiguring, around the luminous core of the seemingly-fragile device.

You don't know how long you stand there, waiting for a sign of the end, for the all-consuming explosion that might come at any time. The flanges and arching lines surmounting the core rotate, like the intricate mechanisms of a watch, whirring and clicking and humming-

The warhead's heart *shifts*. The light is more orange than silver, now, a sullen pulsation like a failing heart. The light shades to a bloody red, more ominous than anything you remember seeing - It stirs an instinctive sensation of danger, of warning, of imminent disaster.

"There."

There is immense relief in Daegal's voice - Immense relief mingled with dread.

"I've-" A pause. "...It's primed. If anyone comes within - within thirty feet - it'll go off."

His words hang in the stillness, uneasy.

"-I hope."

...You're pretty sure he didn't mean for you to hear that. Your Assault Shroud's nanomaterial colony denudes, depleting as soon as it's refreshed - Gathering in a thickly clustered haze around the warhead, hexagons interlocking, dulling to something that reflects no light. It resembles a stray boulder, now - An odd protrusion amid this vitruvian tunnel, but at least it's not immediately obvious at first glance.

One thing's for certain: It's time to leave this as far behind as possible.

(Continued)

>>2552645

With your lethal burden left behind you, you can tell that it's a struggle for Daegal not to spring full-bore into the dark. Only the thought of running into something worse stays his hand: But he's ahead of you, all the same, his strides quickening, the light of his flaming sword drawing away-

You spare a glance back, behind you, at the now-darkened tunnel. It's only a matter of time, now.

"Wait - Up ahead. You see that?"

The tunnel's curving walls give way to angular ones, running along either side - Service tunnels, the hidden network of arteries that invisibly maintain a city's needs. The cinderblock walls are of the same black stone the impossible city has been shaped from-

But it's the light sheeting through the hole above that's drawn Kazuya's attention. That, and the machine that casts a long shadow above it. It is huge, ugly, like some nightmare beetle from the lightless depths beneath the world's crust. A huge cutting head - mounted on the front of a tank-like chassis, adjusted by a frame of piston drivers - is the machine's prow, like the grotesque concentric mouthparts of a lamprey. It is a device for gouging, for ripping great bites out of the earth - armored enough to shrug off assault until it can breach the surface, heedless of anything in the way.

The sides of the machine have unhinged, to let whatever that was within spill out.

And beyond that-

The city. Towers and spires on all sides, framing a central square. A space of flat black stone, surrounded by the raised columns of pillars - most of them toppled by the terrible forces unleashed, rubble piling up on the cracked square. The place appears to have suffered bombardment, the superstructures and girderwork - like ribs - protruding from the burned-out husks of the distant, alien structures.

(Continued)

>>2552695

There are black, charred scars carved into the stone underfoot. Around you, the half-toppled columns hae a strange, almost delicate appearance - simple lines of relief that suggest an aesthetic. Some have ornate decorations worked into them, fanning out like a profusion of leaves, clusters of tiny orbs that seem suggestive of organic shapes...

And then you see it. The titan.

It is dwarfed by the breaching engine, but still fully three times as large as your armored form. Two-headed, the mountings side-by-side, the remnants of silver circuitry show through the shattered remnants of one helm - a decapitation and entry wound at once. It is a mechanical horror, utterly inhuman in aspect, based on some form of life that utterly defies description-

And it is dead. It has been cleaved open, the huge shape sprawling just outside the engine's shadow. The weapon that felled it remains buried in the giant's chest cavity, driven home with so much splitting force it cracked the ground beneath.

"Holy-" Daegal says. "...It's huge-"

He takes a step forward, then another - "Jesus, to kill something like *that*-"

The impaling axe is a massive thing, a two-hander with a long, balanced handle. It is a flat, lightless black - haft and grip engraved with complex, weaving patterns, recalling circuitry. It is single-bladed, with a great spike at the other end - a single glyph worked into the curving crescent blade-

That sensation of familiarity, the world blurring and buzzing, buzzing at the edges-

-Dry skulls in a dusty valley. The headsman's work is never done.

"Is that-" Kazuya's leaning forward, now, circling the giant's fallen form. "Joker, I think that's neutronium-"

[ ] Free

YOU HAVE CONTROL

>>2552770
Pull it free. The headsman's work is never done, after all.

(I've been waiting to find out more about this past Joker)

>>2552770
"I know that axe."

"That's Golgotha. Or perhaps a copy? Either way, it bears a mark of one of the previous Red Jokers."

Give it a go. Probably too heavy for us, but we can always give Daegal a new weapon to try out.

>>2552770
Holy shit, that is one of the previous Joker's weapons. Let's see if we can get it.

(As an aside, I'd love to know how things would've changed if we had gone with the swordsman or tank-wrecking fist character builds at the start when we were selecting our form.)

>>2552770
"Kazuya, that's not just Neutronium.
It's the weapon of one of my predecessors."

Take the fucking thing. If it's too unwieldy, due to being Neutronium, let Kazuya have it.

>>2552805
>>2552815
>>2552819
>>2552833

> "I know that axe."

Autoreactive talons flex, finding your balance, as you pace forward across the fallen giant's form. You feel plating shift, threatening to give with each step - It's been hollowed-out. It's been disemboweled, emptied of itself.

> "Kazuya, that's not just Neutronium. It's the weapon of one of my predecessors."

"You mean-"

Daegal starts, at your words. This close, beneath the crimson skies, something of the gore-light seems to have been captured within the axe's brutal shape.

You glimpse red. Red, like the color of old blood, like a flare of insult. Like cracks, like veins, spiderwebbing across that lightless surface.

Then fresh blood.

Then open flame.

It glows, as if fresh from the forge. Power crackles and hisses through the fierce edge - Or is that static? The infernal buzzing, buzzing that has haunted you for so long-?

Your gauntlet reaches for the hilt, and-

(FOREBODE activated)

You feel it. A cold surge, racing up your spine. A hyper-awareness, a sense of your consciousness flashing along the fault lines and vectors of effect-

A threat. Imminent. Point-blank and distant.

-On all sides-

-An instant away-

HP: 56.52%
COBALT BOOSTER: 97%
ASSAULT SHROUD: 42%
METER: 24%
ENCROACHMENT: 22%

YOU HAVE CONTROL

>>2552933

Should we grasp it and pull away with it using the abruption jets? Would that even be feasible?

>>2552943
Seconding this, but I'm starting to get some bad Phantom Edge vibes.

>>2552933
Rip away with the jets, but also have the shield up in whichever direction we go and Raise Fortress mode as well.

>>2552832
Playing as Frost Caestus that one time was baller as fuck. His cartridge system seemed interesting.

Don't get me wrong, I love Red Joker as a walking weapons factory, but it would have been nice to be able to make full use of Golgotha or Terrible Swift Sword, or even just punch people through buildings.

Punch Tank Joker probably would have had a much easier time dealing with Rust Kaiser, at the very least.

>>2552950
You know man, whatever we do choose to do, it always feels like a potential fatal error.

>>2552955
Addendum, send a warning to Kazuya.

>>2552943
>>2552950
Forget the axe, Abruption away. Don't get greedy. We need to max defense this one.

>>2552933
Spin, Tyrant Burst

I have no idea what the fuck is going on but if FOREBODE is registering threats literally everywhere then either something is wrong or the axe is screwing with us.

Prepare for the former, hope for the latter, yes? I don't want to give up on taking the thing just yet, but I don't want to grab it if that will get us killed.

>>2552933
EXEC_DISRUPT on the axe.
Then get some distance.

Point-blank and distant?
It must be something extradimensional inside of that fucking axe.

Maybe we can figure out something, but I'm unsure.
Let's take a look at its flavor text. Maybe there's a hint to its nature.

>>2552974
Oh, I found it:
>GOLGOTHA crumbles as soon as it leaves the wielder's hand.
That's either a limitation due to it being Oblivion's Husk gear or a fundamental property that is making it similar to kura.

Actually, how does it react to the Misericode?
It's Joker gear. Maybe it has a Joker weakness.

>>2552943
>>2552950
>>2552955
>>2552960
>>2552959
>>2552967

You do not think. You *move*.

Myomer musculature bunches in your legs, as you hurl yourself up and to the side - Your Abruption Jets flaring to brief but furious life, snatching you away in a static burst of cold blue light-

The ground trembles. That's all the warning you get, before it erupts. Curving spars, barbed spikes - a pitted, old-ivory yellow - punch from the cracked stone, like tusks, like talons, like claws. Your Jets flicker out, expended, as you hurtle across the boundary...

-And hit the ground, rolling, tumbling, all control lost in your impromptu dive. The Sinistral ignites, the solid light gouging a deep furrow into the cracked stone - The sizzling point digging in, anchoring you even as it nearly rips your arm from your socket.

Something hisses through the air, where your head had been. It hurtles between the bars of the rising cage - Empty now, in front of you - thunking into the ground before you. A bolt - or maybe an arrow? - barbed, like a backwards-slanted comb. A frozen instant passes, just long enough to make sense of what you're seeing...

Then the bolt's tip flares outwards, like a miniature detonation, spikes punching outwards in all directions like the petals of an expanding blossom.

If it'd hit - If it'd done that *inside* you...

(Continued)

>>2553022

The Dirac channel crackles, as Daegal whirls.

"-I see him!"

The smoothbore bulk of a Revolve Bazooka - His Arsenal Beacon still glowing with fierce light - is braced against Daegal's shoulder, as he hefts it. His gauntlet squeezes down on the trigger spoon.

Trailing a fat wake of white smoke, the shell barks off from the launcher. The swishing rocket strikes a distant building, and explodes in a blossom of hot fire.

But he doesn't stop there. The Revolve Bazooka has four rockets in the magazine: They hurtle away, one after another, into an immense fireball fed by all four. The top of the building disintegrates - Flames ripple and flicker, as a chunk of masonry tears right out of the structure and comes crashing down into the street, turning and fragmenting as it lands like a rogue meteor.

A burning form, almost lost in the destruction, pitches from its perch. It tumbles, out of the inferno, trailing wisps of flame. When it smashes down, both legs and an arm shear away.

A name: SEPIA PRISON

(Continued)

>>2553056
>A name: SEPIA PRISON
FUCKER

Let's see if he's alone and whether this trap even fits his theme.

>>2553056
Real question, though; is the axe okay, and if so, where is it now?

>>2553056

You lurch to your feet, internal gyros whirring. You landed badly, but not enough to do more than to jar you, to scrape new gouges across your armor. Ahead of you, the curving spars of the prison-cage - SEPIA's namesake - begin to unwind, uncoiling, slithering away, even as they turn grey and brittle.

"I-" Daegal says. "I got-"

He lowers the launcher. You think he might be shaking.

Fist-sized chunks of the cage's substance - bone, perhaps. Old ivory. - clatter hollowly against the titan's form, against the flagstones underfoot.

And you hear - A dry rasp, like a mechanism gone rusty from disuse - issuing from the broken figure's speakers.

"-Wait."

A burst of static. "P-please. My kids. My kids."

"A-all they have. Please."

Daegal stares.

[ ] "There's no way they didn't hear that. We have to go."
[ ] "You're lying."
[ ] "Why attack, then?"
[ ] "It's a trick."
[ ] Get the axe.
[ ] Free

YOU HAVE CONTROL

>>2553066

(It's still there. Sepia's construct is crumbling.)

>>2553094
>[x] "Why attack, then?"
>[x] "There's no way they didn't hear that. We have to go."
>[x] Get the axe.

>>2553094
>>Get the axe.
>>"Why attack, then?"
>>"Voivod is on a warpath, so decide quickly how you want this to go, Sepia."

>>2553094
>[ ] "There's no way they didn't hear that. We have to go."
>[ ] Get the axe.
While we get the axe:
"For how long have you been here? What's the last thing you remember from the real world? Why the trap?"

Gotta determine whether he's trying to trick us or actually a normal dude.

Unfortunately, he's now completely fucked, no matter what we do - we can't heal him, we can't carry him. We can give him a few guns from the arsenal beacon, though. Might even slow down our pursuers when they stumble upon him.

However, I'm sure Kazuya has other ideas. Let's see his take.

>>2553094
>[X] "It's a trick."
>[X] Get the axe.
Blast him.

We cannot afford to be naive in the Black.

>>2553101
>>2553106
>>2553110

You turn away from the tableau, retracing your steps. As Daegal stands silent vigil, your gauntlet finds the axe's haft. This close, you can actually perceive how heavy it is - your senses registering the tiny warping of the fabric of space-time that is its gravitation.

When you grasp the hilt, something like realization flickers. Like finds like.

You pull. The weight is impossible, implacable. The great axe does not budge, does not shift.

But then crimson light forks and crackles, as your fist clenches around the grip as if made for it. It runs along the micro-circuitry channels, like blood along a groove. It burns away the patina of age and ash that clings to the cleaving grin, the wide moon of that pitch-black blade.

It comes free. Shards of metal fall away from it, as the ember-heat of a Red Joker's symbol burns fierce and hot - vicious, bristling with jagged edges, with broken angles - beneath the false crimson of the Underworld's sky.

> RELIC ACQUIRED: GOLGOTHA

Forged from pure neutronium, quenched in Lachryma, the great axe GOLGOTHA was a creation of a RED JOKER. The axe's very substance (Created from the heaviest - and almost utterly indestructible - metal in existence) and masterful craftmanship makes it a peerless weapon, but even that was insufficient for the RED JOKER.

Unlike other superheavy weapons, GOLGOTHA - in the hands of the RED JOKER - weighs no more than an ordinary weapon, allowing it to strike with vicious speed. However, due to the nature of it's creation, the wielder suffers from a 30% ENCROACHMENT penalty that cannot be reduced, as long as GOLGOTHA is wielded. (i.e. Your *BASE* ENCROACHMENT cannot be reduced below 30% as long as GOLGOTHA is in hand.)

GOLGOTHA is a two-handed weapon, and must be wielded as such.

The weapon has further powers that have yet to be unlocked.

(Continued)

>>2553206
Welp, not touching that when we're under 100%.

>>2553232
I think we very well need a hp boost. Wonder if leveling athame will do the trick, but there was another option when we level to increase that, right?

>>2553232

(Note that further powers will be unlocked if you taken the relevant OBLIVION'S HUSK upgrade. The extra ENCROACHMENT penalty - i.e. the 25% - is waived, as you actually have the genuine article, instead of a copy.)

>>2553206

SEPIA PRISON - what remains of him - is a spindly shape, hewn in shades of copper and bronze. Curving sheets of metal define his hunched shoulders, his one remaining arm ratcheting on callipers, the twisted remains of a crossbow tangled around the broken limb.

> [X] "Why attack, then?"

"Trap - Trap and shoot. Had to. Had to. Kids."

> [X] "There's no way they didn't hear that. We have to go."

"I..." Daegal jerks, as if startled from his reverie.

"An - Joker, we can't - We can't leave him. He's-"

> "Voivod is on a warpath, so decide quickly how you want this to go, Sepia."

"Don't...Know names." A rattle, a half-cohered buzz, from damaged speakers. "Don't know."

> [X] "It's a trick."

That splintered mask - elongated, beaklike - sways, from side-to-side.

"No. No trick. Please - Not far." Sepia strains, raises his twisted arm - points down the street. "Please."

> "For how long have you been here? What's the last thing you remember from the real world?

A rusty, scraping sound that might be a laugh. Might be a sob.

"Too long. Too long. Can't...Didn't dare leave. You see. Kids. Couldn't move them. Had to-"

"...Had to..."

Daegal looks on, stricken.

"Joker, I-" Then, more slowly. "...If he's not lying - If his *kids* are with him..."

[ ] "It doesn't change anything. He tried to kill us."
[ ] "What if it's a trap? What if he has a dozen more with him?"
[ ] "No. Daegal, we have to go.
[ ] "...All right. You carry him."
[ ] "I'll carry him."
[ ] "If this is a trick-"
[ ] Free

YOU HAVE CONTROL

>>2553287

(Gentlemen, my apologies, but it's extremely late here. I'll continue tomorrow.)

>>2553294
Rest well OP.

>>2553206
Goddamn glorious.

>>2553206
>Neutronium weapon that Red Joker can lift and swing like nothing
>Red Joker is currently a speed build
Jesus fuck

The encroachment might be worth it. Goddamn thing is going to be ridiculously lethal.

>>2553287
>[X] "It doesn't change anything. He tried to kill us."

>>2553294
Rest well!
>>2553287
"Daegal, we leave him. We deal with what's coming, then come back and find the kids if we're in a shape to do so. Are you with me? He tried to kill us, we can't take the chance."

>>2553287
>"Joker, I-" Then, more slowly. "...If he's not lying - If his *kids* are with him..."
"Daegal, are you willing to risk both of our lives for the babbling of a madman who just tried to kill us?"

"Moreover, everyone still alive here has been trapped for longer than I was last time. Even if their armor is around, what became of their minds or souls... there can be no true children here anymore."

"But I will respect your will."

>>2553399
Yeah it seems like, at best, they're already corpses or catatonic. Though there might still be -something- there, and it's possible this guy stashed them in a good hiding spot.

>>2553399
We ought get out of there, leave him be but at the same time I want to help the guy. Damn it,

Depending on how old those kids were when they got stuck here, we're better of mercy killing them.

Smartest choice is to just bail, but depending on what Daegal says, we'll just end up going to that hideout anyways.

>>2553287
>Even assuming he's telling the truth, it's very likely that these children are either already dead, comatose, or even more insane than this guy is.
>He probably has also alerted a bunch of psychotic marauders to this location
>That doesn't necessarily mean we should do nothing, just that we need more than good intentions.right now

>>2553287
So this is a standard player who somehow survived? Then Daegal blew him up? I say we either kill the guy or take him to his kids. If we leave him here, Voivod will torture him for our location.

>>2553287
>[ ] "...All right. You carry him."
Gotta teach Kazuya the dangers of the Red.

"But prepare to be disappointed. I do not think that he's got actual living children there."

"Sepia, how far are you willing to go to get back to the real world?"

The fact that he used Golgotha as bait makes me suspicious. But we may get a trap master if we manage to pull him along.
If another fight happens, he might be very useful, even with only one remaining limb.

>>2553287
you know what? fuck it.

let's go look. the bomb hasn't gone off yet, and trusting this guy might have it's advantages.

first Deagal has had his trust in Joker badly shaken and this will either shore it up, or teach him a valuable lesson about sob stories.

second, Anon himself was a kid here once so this isn't too out there and strikes a chord.

lastly on the off chance thus guy is legit he could be useful as a guide. the jokers memory tellsnus where to go, not how to avoid obstacles.

>if this is a trap

>>2553287
[X] "I'll carry him."
[X] "If this is a trick-"
>>2553399
Supporting this. By virtue that the bomb telling us to haul ass didn't go off, and as another anon said, not leaving someone to give VOIVOD directions.

Also, now that we have the real Golgotha, is there any benefit to the memory in Oblivion's Husk? Would it add something to the axe?

>>2555341
See
>>2553287

>>2555341

(Yes. You'll unlock the weapon's full potential.)

>>2555353
Open queztion fir the other players; Given this information, at next level up would anyone else be willing to upgrade it and see what it does?

>>2554378
>>2554393
>>2554886
>>2554898
>>2555333

> [X] "It doesn't change anything. He tried to kill us."

"I - I know," Kazuya says. "I *know*."

He stands, stricken - the heavy launcher slipping from his grasp. It dissolves, becoming an architect's schematic of winding red lines, swallowed up by the Vector Trap before it hits the ground.

"But - But if he *isn't* lying...We can't just-"

>>2553399

Memory stirs. Naoya, in the church.

"Do you understand what is is I'm trying to tell you?" he says, quietly. "There is no one - *no one* - like us. No one who remembers; no one sane. What happened to us, the implications - It is beyond what the human mind can process."

"Down there, living like that - One tends to forget. There were others, at first; signals, from smaller groups...But they dried up inside the first year. No-one - nothing - could survive down there."

"-Except us."

"Except you."

A hundred years, in a single night. The descent, the flight across the black sands, and the long, long mourning that followed.

Children. Impossible, you think. But - but if-

Daegal's eyeslits are locked on you, his stance somehow pleading. "I can't - Joker, I have to know. I...have to know that I didn't-"

>>2554378
>>2554886

> [X] "...All right. You carry him."

The relief that courses through Kazuya - All-too-visible, in the way his shoulders slump, in the way he moves to obey - is almost painful to see. SEPIA PRISON squeals, as Daegal lifts him - the explosion, the fall, has ruptured his already-brittle armor, driven flechettes of stone (each as long as a finger) into him.

Daegal flinches, as fluids - coolant, oil - dribble out of the shattered stumps of Sepia's severed limbs. Sepia's broken arm rattles at his side, a twig cased in dirty brass.

It's all Kazuya can do to carry him - not like a person, but like a leaking sack.

> [X] "If this is a trick-"

A cracked lens tilts towards you. Tiny electric impulses flicker, sizzling along exposed cables.

Sepia Prison's systems are failing. Daegal must have ruptured something essential - the core, perhaps. Some spinal synapse. For him, it's only a matter of time.

It doesn't mean that he isn't leading you to your deaths.

It's happened before.

(Continued)

>>2555546

"No - no tricks." Then, in that feeble, buzzing rasp - "...what was I - what was I supposed to do...?"

"Not this," Daegal says, almost to himself. "Not this."

**

Sepia is truthful in one thing, at least: It isn't far. Two blocks away, at most - Every step spent listening for the blast that heralds the beginning of the hunt, for the sound of distant pursuit. Waiting for the trap to be sprung, for the blades in the dark.

And oh, the sights you see. The city's towers are faced with black stone, rendered crimson by the gore-light. In places, they are linked by soaring colonnades and porticos, vast columns rearing up to dizzing heights. There is a dry, static charge in the air, as if great machines operate nearby - The sheer walls, the looming structures and ziggurats half-lost in the perpetual gloom.

It is a maze. A labyrinth, with bell-towers, spans and domes of black marble marking the boundaries. A dread pervades the place: Now and again, you hear something that might be music. Something that might be screams. Or perhaps it is just the wind.

The city is in flux. Daegal is oblivious, but you can sense it - On a greater scale, stone, marble and tile are irresolute, but tend to keep something of their same purpose. A door in a stone wall becomes a gap through steel bars, which in turn is a narrow alleyway between two buildings. The square you've left behind you is now a sunken plaza.

The structure you're guided to - It tilts at a crazy angle, like a protrusion from an insect hive. You can hear the wind moaning, as the actual fabric of the building creaks and gives - the rotting hallways deserted.

Every window has been blown out. There are no amenities - No plumbing, no lights. No sign that anything human may have ever lived here. It reminds you, forcibly, of a manufactorium or some industrial construct - or a ship lost at sea, as the wind howls mournfully through the blown-out window ports.

The ascent is worse. There are no lifts, no signs of life - But in places, the flooring has given way, black tarry fluid dripping from the roof. Entire floors have sunk into a liquid blackness, accessways blocked by debris from the half-collapse. Once, twice, you have to double back, where the stairs - too high, without railings, canted at just the right angle to disorientate - have been eaten through.

(Continued)

>>2555560

"-There." Almost a whisper, now, a battery running out of charge. Not long now. Not long at all.

A calliper-limb flaps at a distant door, identical to the the countless ones that you have passed. This time, you lead the way.

The interior is semi-derelict. Exposed bunches of electrical trunking bulge like tumors, like veins and arteries, spanning the walls. There is light, here - from a bank of screens in the corner, distorted black-and-white images flickering.

And you see-

Daegal makes a low sound, a small sound. An involuntary cry of disgust.

There is - a thing. A shape that isn't even vaguely humanoid. A swollen blob of dark, clotted matter, spanning the width of the chamber. Thick streamers extend from it, snaking cables - somehow organic, somehow moist - attached to every part of the space, the ceiling, walls and floor. It is...There are brackish, moving colors. Black and green and ochre, tangled with the branching array of dark tubing - something disturbingly almost-but-not-quite-random about their arrangment-

Blood vessels.

The thing moves. Static flickers, buzzes. There are growths moving with it, deformed, swollen - limbless, formless. You glimpse-

A malformed helmet. A single, pitiful optic-

"Oh Jesus God no-"

Behind you, there is a sound. A gagging, wretched sound. Daegal is trying - against all odds - to vomit.

There are Players in that growth. More than one - If you had to guess, you'd say that there were two of them. Eight limbs, something that might be a helm - bulbous, encephalitic, bloated - something that might be myomer, swollen and drooling that black liquor-

"Please," Sepia Prison rasps. "Not their fault. Don't hurt them. Please."

(Continued)

>>2555589

You take a step closer, to the pitiful, grotesque mass. There is a brittle crunch, as something small and hard gives beneath the pressure of your boot.

You look down. You know what it is at once, because you're staring at it through a similar object.

The visor lens from a Player's optics.

Debris litters the ground underfoot, like spoil from a predator's den. There are segments of worn plating, forlorn limbs.

And now you know where the rest of the mass's bulk comes from.

"Day it began, I was - we were - driving home. After - after, they were like this. My kids. Needed help-"

The silence, awful and complete, looms. You see the warped shape at the center of it all, like two bodies overlapping, joined in all the worst possible ways. The double-faced skull, the fibrous growth where a Player's electronic brain should be - three times the size of a regular one, intermingled and tangled like briars.

"Saw one of the others. Begged him. Begged. Just - Just cursed at me."

"Thought about the kids. Saw red."

"I..." Is that shame, in Sepia Prison's voice. "-brought him back here. Brought him to them-"

[ ] "...And every time after that, it was easier."
[ ] "I understand. I don't condone it, but I understand."
[ ] "-They're gone. They've been gone for a long time."
[ ] "Then you know what I have to do."
[ ] "You killed a person for *nothing*."
[ ] "...How long have you been doing this? How many people?"
[ ] "All of this, to keep them alive?"
[ ] (To Kazuya) "...I told you, Kazuya. There aren't any children here."
[ ] Free

YOU HAVE CONTROL

>>2555607
>[x] "I understand. I don't condone it, but I understand."
>[x] (To Kazuya) "...I told you, Kazuya. There aren't any children here."

I think we're better of mercy killing everything in this room.

>>2555607
>[ ] "Then you know what I have to do."
"Kazuya, leave. I'll handle everything here."

Decapitate Sepia with the sinistral blades. Despite everything, he doesn't deserve to watch his children be killed.

Not sure how to mercy the kids in the most painless way while not attracting too much attention, though. Maybe petrifying the core with Catoblepas and smashing it with the Crisis Arm would work?

>>2555607
>[ ] "I understand. I don't condone it, but I understand."
>[ ] "-They're gone. They've been gone for a long time."
>[ ] (To Kazuya) "...I told you, Kazuya. There aren't any children here."

"Before I do what has to be done: What are your names? Do you have any next of kin? I will tell them your last words."

>>2555621
EXEC_SWARM should be pretty efficient.

>>2555630
We're going to mercy-kill them both. Don't bother asking.

>>2555635
That's *precisely* why I want to ask.
His wife might still be alive. So when we make it out, when can find her and tell her whatever he wants us to tell her.

>>2555621
>>2555630
>>2555607
Take the axe. Tell Daegal to leave. Do what needs to be done.

>>2555640
I mean this in the best way possible, but we're not doing ourselves, Daegal, or this family any favors with continued questioning. We are literally in a Geiger-esque hellscape where everything is trying to kill us and wear our skin as a fancy new level-up. We need to *move.*

>>2555640
You want to tell her that we murdered her husband and children?

>>2555650
We'll cross that bridge when we get there.