Dark Side of the Moon

Galatea

While her sensors were not so inelegant they would let out an audible whine, the warnings and distortions in the nearby energy fields were as clear as the blaring of an alarm. Different enemy factors closing in, this sudden appearance of another figure, attempting to approximate and reorient her sensors to classify these new forces. It could be said that the information that the automaton was sorting far exceed the level of detail and multitasking humans could hope to achieve.

So Galatea did not stay surprised. No, she merely complied with her creator's orders and opened her eyes. They were filled with a deep red color with black pupils at the center. They shifted back and forth, looking around without any coordination, almost as if they were straining to pry themselves out of her head and enter the world.

[Knightmare released. Destructive energy rising. Covering other signatures.]

It was uncomfortable in its warmth, in the taste of blood that filled the mouth, in the oily wrongness that clung to the skin. A corruption flowed from the machine like a fountain, and in its intensity it muddled senses beyond sight like a mist of gore. It was swallowing up the atmospheric mana, drinking the natural energy that pulsed through the earth, gnawing its way through the various powers that saturated the Nexus to make more of itself. It twisted and swelled like a cancer, the foliage twisting in on itself as it mutated into vivid purples and reds. Even the air thrummed with its power, like the static before the lightning strike. Yet it was all restless, all potential even in its malice, and still largely localized to where the mechanical being stood.

And Galatea smiled. Then she bowed her head towards the figure, rigid and mechanistic. "We had not understood your plans for this district yet. I apologize on behalf of the Creator. It would be against his priorities to anger a high-value ally. We leave this resource as compensation for our violation. If you desire an act for the onlookers, we will feign a tactical retreat." Then her eyes shut, and the font of power was suddenly cut short.

With an arm she lashed out and lifted her master, holding him with care but only a single hand. Her other hand clutched her scythe tightly as the remaining Terrotechs within the clearing began to emit a high pitch, irritating whine. A discordant, near migraine-inducing shriek that seemed more to irritate and disorient than legitimately harm anyone. Then the ground exploded.

The furious dash backwards that Galatea made sent the duo hurtling into the cover of the trees, and without obstruction their escape would be a simple certainty.

Galatea

Swiftness and strength brought the sword down upon Galatea's body. But rather than the shattering of metal, rather than so much as a dent, the blade went utterly still. At the edge of the clearing a Terrortech unit exploded in a furious cacophony of converted sound, but the girlish automaton's body was unmarred.

Galatea gave the goddess no time to react to her seeming invulnerability. She hadn't even truly attempted to defend herself, and with the feeds from the constructs in the area she was entirely aware of Americana's movements. Instead her hands gripped Americana's own wrists with her full strength, pushing the woman's hands apart. [Creator, in consideration of the difference in skill I will reduce this combat to a test of physicality. Please incapacitate the avatar at your leisure.]

Galatea

"The probability of this one ceasing hostilities is unknown, Creator." Her tone was as melodious as ever, but there was an almost chiding element to it. Like a sibling who was watching her brother do something silly. Or perhaps it was just the listener's imagination. "Releasing her would be unwise until that condition can be guaranteed. Her ability to casually defeat the avatar-node Americana represents a threat."

Galatea

Even without opening her eyes, Galatea seemed entirely aware of her enemy's movements. The tail dangling in front of her as well as the rising goddess attempting to skewer the demon in the air. So her hand darted out to grab the appendage and yank the redhead right into the blade's thrust.

Galatea

[Target confirmed. Access of analysis stream confirmed. Production confirmed.] Lesser machines gathered on the outskirts of the clearing and simply watched as the vanguard charged in. But even those functions were inferior to Galatea's own. Everything within this area was slower than her. The target was superior to her in strength. She would act accordingly.

Inborn elegance and mechanical precision perfected by once-trembling hands guided her body. She waited only for the faintest flicker of awareness, the urge to act as the Terrortech forces moved in and the redhead was forced to react to them while still dealing with her captive. Then Galatea charged. Beneath her legs the earth crumbled. The branches of trees snapped off in her wake. But before the wood could even hit the ground, before so much as the sound of her movement reached the area, the automaton was already there with her scythe raised. Extending the point of impact was ideal, so the blade descended to cleave her from shoulder to hip from behind.

Balius

"Hm. You rely too much on your divinity in these matters." His voice was stern but not patronizing, an expression bluntness rather than outright blame. "There are those among your number who can hide their thoughts from you, even if they do worship earnestly. For others, belief is a multifaceted phenomenon. Even as they pay homage to you and act earnestly in your interest, their actions may betray you nevertheless. And for more clandestine figures the Nexus is vast. There are undoubtedly ways to avoid your awareness as it spreads out over the populace."

The vampire shut his eyes and let out a small huff. "Hastiness may suit you, but it is rarely wise. Your actions have greater consequences than any ordinary ruler. In any case, this was no decisive opening strike. There has been no effective follow up or weakness instigated by these actions. They have yet to even bloody your nose. An escalation of conflict in the military's mobilization is decidedly unwise."

Balius

Lord Balius? Hah. Such titles were so infrequent in this age that the words themselves sounded almost foreign to him. It was nostalgic, almost. But he did not miss it either. Instead he simply raised his own hand at the offered one, a polite but firm rejection before it descended back to his side. "Just Balius is fine, child. We are all citizens here, are we not? But you are correct. There are certainly those besides Columbia who have an ear to the conversations within this district today."

Balius
Nexus Time: 8:00PM

In a dusty room, a corpse stirred. A rich flavor had been poured into its mouth. The sanguine offering brought warmth back to its body, the sweet taste of life coaxing an inexorable beat from an ancient heart. Balius' eyes opened, and he beheld a room that was not so different then the one he had left. It had not been very long at all, even. He had not ordered this room be kept untouched. The loving touch seen in the handmade furniture, the untouched sheets of a bed for two, these were all things that should have been cleaned as he dreamed in torpor. Only in the first few weeks would such a thing, a cautionary measure taken as the blood in his veins slowly ceased to stir. To be awakened now...

From his ornate chair, his eyes looked down upon the vampire prostrating itself before to him. It was a bat-like creature that had been twisted and blessed with intelligence and a form more befitting of man. Such a drastic change for a small application of blood, he saved such a thing for only the most devoted or frail of his familiars. "I was not to be roused from torpor for at least a few years. I had chosen this place to rest for the peace it boasted, the prosperity it pursued. What has happened?"

And so it spoke of an attack. Of threats to this land's security. Of... whispers. A vague sense of discontent. Fuel that could be turned to fire. Balius turned his gaze from the servant and looked beyond it straight ahead, his eyes piercing the fog of memory rather than the lens of a scrying portal. "War," he rumbled. "You fear that there may be war. Or at least prelude to it. To rise or the sake of such a  thing, I almost wish that I could rest forever."

He rose without complication. There was no cracking of ancient bones. His body was limber, flush with life after his meal. Balius' hands brushed the lingering dust from his form as his servant moved forward to open the door. "I will assess the situation. As always, we must act for the sake of peace. The use of power for violence is the last resort. But you said this attack was done by... pumpkin creatures? I had designs for that town which they are said to originate from. Requisition one for my sake. There are experiments that must take place before my arguments can be made." He strode forth through this manor filled with memories. When he exited he breathed in the cool night air, and he could barely see the foreign stars above that hung in skies.

To stamp out the embers of war before they could ignite. If there was anything this long life was for the sake of anything, it was this. For those who were too young to know its cost.