Surgath Reigns: RUINATION

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Sigil
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Re: Surgath Reigns: RUINATION

Post by Sigil » Wed Nov 06, 2019 4:05 am



The sky grew darker and darker as Sigil's powers reached their current limit. Eldritch tentacles ensnared the golden gauntlet and turned Surgath from a mighty force into a childs toy. Tendrils ripped him from the earth as they coiled over one another begging for the chance to be the final push to crush the gauntlet. The stones in it's surface hissed like rattlesnakes beneath the unseen might of the beast lying within Sigil's subconscious. Golden metal began to creak under what could only be compared to the deepest reaches of the planets oceans.

Surgath wasn't completely defenseless though and the while the Titan looked like nothing more than a brute he would prove he was the exact opposite. Surgath spoke and his words caused distress, doubt, and fatal distraction within his mind. "YOU'RE A FUCKING-"In a single moment Surgath carefully sliced through Sigil 's barrier and sent the man hurtling through the air with nothing to show where he'd been other than a splatter of hot blood that sprayed across the ground the ground. A mental lobotomy delivered by a telekinetic who possessed the precision and grace of a surgeon. As it happened Surgath would be plunged into Sigils own subconcious sea which raged from the storm of his fury. Even if only for a moment it was more time than the being within his mind would allow and Surgath's mind would be shown terrors from beyond. A creature that radiated nothing but a suffocating aura of evil bursting from the depths of Sigils mind to force out the invasion of another.

His frontal lobe was nothing more than a bloody pulp that was slowly put back together by the will of the creature within him. His body skipping across the frozen hellscape and turning his body into a bloodied mess. His eyes lifeless for seconds before the wet snaps of bones healing ripped his body from the ground. The winds around him roared to life while the earth he stood on exploded under the pressure his body was emitting. From within his gaping maw came a sound that was not human, something pulled from the depths of a world beyond ours, something that could only be described as ancient.

Sigil had died and through his death the chains that kept the monster locked away had been broken. Its rage tore at his mind, filled it with hatred, and turned him into a raging bull. His eyes nothing more than white hot specks, drool falling from his rabid mouth, and veins pushing through his skin just waiting to burst.

He hunched over into a more beast like stance, eyes deadest on where Surgath was miles away. In the snow directly in front of him two elephant size claw prints appeared with a loud THOOOM. The Alaskan sun occasionally reflected off of the shimmering surface of something that stood over Sigil, something massive in size with the torso of a man and the lower body of a kraken.


RRRRRRRROOOOOAAAAAAAAAAA

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Sigil burst forward his rage a single hand, contorted into a claw like shape, at the ready. The air burned white hot around him, his eyes fixed on Surgath, his mouth sprayed foaming spit as he let loose monstrous cries. CRRRASSSHHHH His body was shot to the ground as quickly as it moved. The impact was decimating to the surrounding area, at least it would've been if the gravity well hadn't stopped the debris from flying any higher than a few inches off the ground. The overwhelming pressure bearing down onto the rage fueled beast who turned purple as he struggled to rise to his hands and knees.

His mind was filled with anger but, it was still his mind. He could think only of ways to slaughter Surgath and consume him. The beast craved blood and to get that blood this gravity well would need to be stopped. He saw Axiom, and his shield which seemed to hurt Surgath before, fall into a crevasse. Using all of his strength he commanded the tentacles to shoot across the frozen tundra and wrap around him. Ripping the man from the hole before he could be crushed. Tentacles coiled and wrapped over each other forming a tightly wound spring with Axiom at it's center. Sigil smirked and Axiom exploded forwards in a perfect spiral arcing through the air.


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Re: Surgath Reigns: RUINATION

Post by Axiom » Fri Nov 08, 2019 1:19 am

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NOT GOING GENTLE

The strike landed.

That was all that was necessary, for the time being.

All the effort, all the planning, all the strength they had to offer had amounted to little more than a technologically convoluted jab.

It was enough. The two warriors crashed into the stone with what felt like enough force to shake the foundations of all that was. Arno had just experienced hard contact with the greatest butcher the universe had ever known - would ever know. The jolt of the impact rattled him throughout his body, felt hardest in his replaced hand and the cavern of his right eye. He'd driven the Decimator low, pushing him into the Earth; moments later, a great violet claw closed around his weapon and hurled him away, off to the side.

He rolled along the ground, rising to his feet, ready.

Flint felt a shadow pass over his soul as the Titan probed his thoughts and called to him by his name. Something about the Major. The past rippling through the future. Old games. Stories he didn't know, information withheld from him. Awash in the whirlpool, a captain out in the fog. That was a trick: to get inside his head. Break the mind. Pieces on chessboards, slaves to systems, victims of fate. The old bluff.

Arno wasn't about to be bluffed. He wasn't blind. He had a light.

It blazed over Höllenfeuer's surface, white-hot.

"Why's your types," he muttered, "...always trying to make it personal?"

For a second, the ground below him opened, becoming powder, abyssal - threatening to eat him whole. His mind jumped to Hector, who was somewhere below it all, challenged with the unenviable task of holding it all together - he'd already have saved thousands of lives, expending energy to stop their battle from sinking cities, from breaking open the world - could Flint survive a fall into that pit? Was it over?

Hardly.

Teja?

This wasn't the same. It was someone else. Caught in mid-air, he felt himself launched once more into the fray. He became a projectile once again. Good; a faster way back in.

This time, he'd hit feet first, the bottoms of his reinforced boots slamming into the Titan with astronomical force. Bending his knees, he'd spring off of the enemy, flipping over in mid-air to land on the ground.

The shield was the key. From the start, he'd known it would be. A faith-forged artifact that predated even the Titan, one that had a chance of being allowed past the enemy's more unorthodox defenses out of arrogance. Something that could cut into the foe's very heart.

Flint surged upwards, seeking with all his might to push the burning disc into the Titan's chest.


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Re: Surgath Reigns: RUINATION

Post by illirica » Fri Nov 08, 2019 4:09 pm

The storm gathered. She could feel it in the air, static scattering spiderwebs across the panels that were her. She was not something so removed from all of it as a pilot, she was the machine itself. Sensation came in conduits, in energy transferred over the wail of tesla coils. Their screams were not even audible to her, but presented as wave form graphs, indicators of sonic force snapping through the battlefield, translated into the language of pure mathematics. They burst in relays, shifting energy from one point to another, carrying with it whatever information they could hold.

She knew it at every point, because her awareness extended throughout the entire build, scattered into those synapses of energy, passed from one place to another. She was isolated in her cell, not in a cage, but within the metal itself, fragments of particles passing from one atom to the next.

Isolated, but not alone. Axiom streaked across the horizon, metal scattering ions in his wake, and the field graphed his passage in arcs and integrals. Above it all, the field shuddered to a grinding halt as electrons slowed to a near stop, and she could taste their tension, their need to be in motion. Matter was crushed, condensed, compacted, and she felt the magnetic fields gnash their ionic trajectories in anticipation of a storm that was yet to come.

The storm roiled. She could feel its desire. It was not there yet, but it would come, inevitably. Circuits shifted within massive panels, and the magnetic field drew them into the sky, honeycombed hexagons three meters across, the spaces between them enough to allow passage, but close enough to catch the lightning when it came, each panel a capacitor charged with powering the machine she was become.

Others, below. A mechanical body, arachnine, spraying sticky fluid likely to have little effect, but with the bravery to defend the world in any case. Something that might have been a woman from the timbre of the sonic projection, who spewed heat and lightning in a mixture that was not possible. It presented an error to the ongoing calculations - nonscientific, then. Demi-god borne, or anomalous. She cared little for that word, too often used as a catch-all term - and what it caught, it caged. The Foundation was conspicuously absent thus far, though perhaps that meant they would not do so much damage as they had the last time Surgath had appeared.

And with Axiom, the Dragon. All this in the space of an instant, for her motion was a brightness of infrared, striking with claws as he struck with Shield. Surgath would not be defeated so easily, though, and cast the attack aside. It had not had the power, but for a moment, it had struck true. He was not indefeatable, and into the wake of the attack gone by came the force of Sigil, turned as well, though not without notice. A newer ally, he was, but a powerful one - and when Surgath's power turned against Axiom, it was Sigil who caught him and tore him free - free to attack again. The shield glowed astral, and he turned it again towards the enemy from the stars that sought to take away their world.

He would land his strike, or he would not - but one way or another, Axiom knew to get clear, to make room for future attacks to take place. Surgath's very smallness was an advantage to him; they could not all strike at once. Coordination was necessary - but Michael Carter had envisioned that very goal when he had created his Society, and they were well-practiced in the art of battlefield exchanges.

Surgath seemed disappointed with the defenders he had gathered. Well. She knew much about being a disappointment, did she not? His disappointment mattered far less to her than others that she had incurred. Let him be disappointed. His disappointment took form, and in a moment the world was breaking, a rift of psychic energy that must be contained. Akhilleus would need to deal with that, then, not with the plan that had originally been discussed. He'd been meant to strike - but she would not be the one to order him to another death. Another cry of a tesla coil, energy transmissions carrying information - not to herself this time, but to another.

>ALTERNATE plan.<

Words, upon a screen that was not her mind, but someone else's.

>Akhilleus-Limited Terminus Energy Relay Nexus Asserted Teleportation Execution.<

He'd told her, specifically, not to make an acronym of it - so, naturally, she'd done exactly that. The indignity didn't stop the action, though, and she felt the field part against a wave-form, elliptical, a rift from one place to another. Her panels were not so pulpous as a human body, and she pushed one of the remnant forth from her machine, magnetically accelerated with the sonic crack as it broke the barrier, echoes oscillating in waves among other noises - a direct strike, from the front, aimed to push him back into the transmission ellipse.

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Re: Surgath Reigns: RUINATION

Post by Terminus » Fri Nov 08, 2019 4:21 pm

TerminOS v3.2.8
Now Playing: AC/DC- Dogs of War.

Armor Model: Titanic.
Active Module: None.

Pilot: Pendragon, Nicolas.
System Status: Nominal.


Capacitor was in charge here. Ostensibly. Nicolas had let her dictate strategy, and waited patiently for the Society to launch their initial offensive. One that'd clearly sprung from the mind of Arno Flin.

Sure, he's got the power of a god in the palm of his hand. But maybe if we hit him in the face really hard, he'll go down.

"Computer, play my Combat Mix."

Obediently, the taskmind AI that Nicolas used to operate his lab remotely began pumping music into his suit's internal speakers. He was fully armored, the Titanic warsuit providing a nearly-impenetrable shell against the imminent danger he was about to face.

Now Playing: AC/DC- Dogs of War.

This was the sort of music that filled the lab on Terminal when Pendragon was working. Pure noise. He was so used to splitting his attention that it was nearly impossible to focus without something stimulating all of his senses. Right now, Terminus was simply waiting. While Earth's defenders assembled in Alaska, the Machinist was simply hovering in the void of space, just outside of an anonymous moon's gravity well.

Minor threats had come and gone on Earth, while Nicolas labored in his lab. Not out of negligence, but because he knew how to prioritize. He'd spent those months building contingencies and doomsday weapons, for when the major threats came. Like Surgath. A name none on Earth had heard until the Decimation, but one that was all-too-familiar on a planet like Terminal.

Surgath was like cancer. Everyone knew someone who had been affected by him. Maybe they'd survived one of his Decimations. Maybe their family hadn't. He'd killed more sentients than had ever existed on Earth. The magnitude of his crimes were impossible to visualize. Scope insensitivity, it was called. Your brain, with its pitifully limited processing power, can't visualize the emotional impact of quintillions of dead bodies. It's just a statistic. A number.

The Titan hadn't killed anyone that Nicolas even knew. Chevron was just a name to him. Hector, maybe, but... Akhilleus wasn't exactly dead. Just not-alive. Something that Pendragon planned to rectify as soon as possible. But the Titan would die anyways. Not to avenge those he'd already killed, but to stop him from taking any more lives.

In a shocking turn of events, the Society's 'hit him really hard' plan had been ineffective. Fortunately for the people of Earth whose lives hung in the balance, Terminus had his own plan. One that didn't rely on a trigger-happy loose cannon, or a high-schooler, or a Binary. All that Nicolas needed was himself- and Capacitor.

"I liked the sound of 'Iapetus Maneuver,' but sure. ALTERNATE."

Pendragon was tapped into Teja's suit feed, allowing him to watch as his ally prepared to strike Surgath. His finger wasn't on any button- leaving something this critical up to human hands would have been irresponsible. At the moment Capacitor struck, the portal would automatically open behind the Titan, allowing the force of the energy-vampire's attack to propel him through.

That portal's other end was aimed directly at the surface of a moon. Not Luna, of course. This celestial body was in another galaxy altogether. It orbited a gas giant, along with seventy-three satellites. Nobody would miss this one.

Given the absurd power that the Titan wielded, it was necessary to keep him off-balance. Not give him a moment to breathe. The moment that Surgath tumbled out of the rift in space, Terminus would open fire. The Titanic armor had no hands- two massive cannons replaced them, allowing Nicolas to channel far more power than previous models of his armor could harness.
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Where once the depths of this corner of space had been black, in a moment they were illuminated. Blinding light poured forth from the Titanic's cannons, as pure force would buffet the Fallen Titan. It wasn't meant to hurt him- even without the Ynerax stones, Surgath was made of sturdier stuff than that. But it would push the purple being, towards the surface of the nameless moon.

Nicolas had chosen this particular moon for a reason. The planetoid's core was superdense, giving it a more-powerful gravitational pull. The Titan would find it nearly impossible to escape the gravity well, as he fell to the moon's surface. It was barren, an exomaterial that seemed to be metallic in nature covering its surface. Uninspired geography. Pendragon wouldn't feel too bad about destroying it.

He'd built Sol's Anvil over a year ago. Back then, it had been tiny. A Dyson Sphere, but only 2% complete, hidden on the opposite side of Earth's star. After the Front Line disbanded, Terminus had used the portal network to move it elsewhere. A far-flung star, where nobody would notice or care if someone built a structure surrounding it. A much-larger star, from which far more energy could be absorbed.

Sol's Hammer was its counterpart. Through a series of portals, the Dyson Sphere was connected to a planet-killer weapon, designed as a form of 'mutually-assured destruction' deterrence. A species like the Binaries would hesitate to invade Earth, if they knew a devastating counterstrike could be launched at any moment. That didn't exactly work with Surgath, who owed no planet allegiance. But the weapon had other uses as well.
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They'd hidden the Hammer inside of the gas giant that this moon orbited. As Surgath fell, it emerged, already locked on to his location. Not that it needed to be precise. This wasn't a precise weapon.

Terminus knew to get out of the way. Proximity to the weapon's blast would be enough to kill most people, and even someone in a hardened combat mech wouldn't be able to escape unscathed. The Hammer had been cycled up to full power already, a process which began the moment Surgath's presence on Earth was detected. He'd caught them by surprise once. Never again.

With a titanic shudder, the weapon opened fire. Flare compensators in Pendragon's helmet prevented him from going blind, as a beam of energy poured forth from the weapon's tip, racing at the speed of light towards the moon where the Titan had landed. It was wide enough to consume the entire planet, Surgath included.

In mere seconds, the moon was no more. Not even ash remained. In the cold vacuum, there was no sound. For a moment, there had been light, like a star had gone supernova before their eyes, and with power to match. Now there was nothing but silence, and the planet had one fewer moon. If they were lucky, the universe had one fewer Titan as well.

The moment Sol's Hammer stopped firing, Pendragon's armor began scanning the sector for signs of life. If Surgath had survived, he would be weakened. And the Front Line would give him no respite. But it seemed unlikely that he would still live, after an attack of that magnitude. The last time Sol's Hammer had been fired, it had killed an Outer God. Even with four Ynerax Stones, Surgath was still mortal.

With a thought, Nicolas opened a line to Capacitor.

"You ordered the fried prune, right? I'm afraid it might have come out a little crispier than anticipated."

Terminus chuckled. Everyone was so damn grim all the time. Sure, he knew to take this sort of threat seriously, but that didn't mean being some humorless automaton. Did it say somewhere that heroes had to be miserable all the time? Hector and Teja certainly seemed to think so. But Pendragon had lost his whole team, and his best friend. He was done moping.

Besides, nothing is irreparable. Brock and Rust might be gone, but the Front Line isn't dead yet. Mitch might be gone, but Jean still has a chance to be something great.

Nicolas was a builder. His role was to fix what was broken. The existence of a sad, deluded monster was a sign that the universe was broken. And he intended to fix it. For too long, the cosmic scales had been imbalanced, as the cruelty of a madman consigned innocents to death for the crime of existence. He might have been the Titan of Progress, but that progress was soon to be stopped.

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Re: Surgath Reigns: RUINATION

Post by Amicus » Sat Nov 09, 2019 3:46 am

Surgath was durable, attack, attack, attack. He took it all. Some slowed him, some even look like they should have hurt. And yet he remained. Fox's on onslaught was removed from the equation by him, she looked at him from her position with narrowed eyes and shook her head. If only she could let it all loose. If only she could be the being of raw power she really was, this battle would be just a bit less difficult. It hurt him, sure, but far less then it should have. Far less than was necessary. She groaned, that wasn't going to work as well as she'd like. Go to hot, and she risked hurting other people here. Just because they could withstand kinetic energy, didn't mean the same for thermal which spread so easily. And this...was barely skin deep.

A telekinetic entered the battle. Fox narrowed her eyes at him. Something didn't seem right. In her centuries of wisdom, she'd grown used to recognizing peculiarities. Surgath himself was one, but a more predictable one. Though she was quite sure Surgath was the more dangerous one of the two. If he weren't he wouldn't have made it this far. For a short time there was a hope that the man could actually manage it. Till he managed to quite handily turn the tides. Then quite suddenly the gravity increased and Fox found herself pressed towards the ground, she resisted. That was certainly an advantage she had here. Direct powers on her, almost regardless of their origin. Were far less effective. Still, she could feel its power, even at the distance she was at, for her, it was negligible. It was stronger where he was and in a radius, near the strength of which she was certainly, and fortunately, not in. But he wasn't aiming for her, he was solving a different problem, that of the other combatants near him. Had she been closer, even she could have been drawn down.

He taunted them, she chuckled. It wasn't a chuckle of someone not taking it seriously. A chuckle of irony. Maybe, if she'd done this a good few centuries ago. She'd be able to fight him willingly. Less people would have died by her hand, and she would have cared much less. She wasn't like that now though. Perhaps, her job would not be to play the part of a powerhouse.

But that of the disorienter. She breathed in and began to focus, preparing an illusion of detail. To every sense, sight, sound, smell, heat, telepathy, tachyons, empathy, every sense she could think of. Breathing in and out slowly as the depth of the illussion began to form in her mind before she would emplace it.

Meanwhile, whatever was within Sigil was released. Making him even more of a powerhouse then the man already was. Just before Flint surged forwards again, she realized it. It would appear, only to the Titan, as if Axiom was not aiming for the Titan's chest, but for his head. Every detail about the world would seem right.

Up until the moment of impact. Then, yet again only to Surgath, she would show her illusion as she slowly stepped to the side, though she'd appear to have not moved. A forest, denser then any other. Trees crowding him, life clouding him. From trees, to serpents and frogs, to giants. You see, an illusion hiding that which exists is easy, to use on a human. She didn't know what senses Surgath possessed. Nor his intelligence. So instead, she would overwhelm the senses, all of them. Make it appear as if there was just so much that he'd not be able to tell when something that was real actually attacked him. Creatures, illusions, that had no true threat. Would charge him here and there. These would show up as simple transparent creatures to the others, allowing them to see a glimpse of what the Titan should be seeing so they could know what he might do. And should any of them attack, she would disguise it as yet another creature.

She had no reason to speak to him. She did not know him. She knew he was dangerous, and that words would likely do little to change that.

Her illusion however might not receive the fullness of its effects. As someone not even physically near the battle opened a portal, intending for the Titan to be thrown through it. Well, she somewhat still hoped that would succeed. But only if it meant success. Otherwise, it might spell worse.

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Re: Surgath Reigns: RUINATION

Post by Spider » Sat Nov 09, 2019 9:52 pm

Image
THE DADDIEST
LONG LEGS and family
Jon Lieberman's Classic American Sitcom
This isn't pain.

Jon fell to his knees, his mechanical Daddy Long Legs extracted from his back in an attempt to pick himself up. Each bolt and joint bitched out a squeak, Jon grunting in the pressure. If he wasn't such a swing freak tempering and training his body against gravity he would have passed out just like any other regular man.

Whatever stormwater was in the area was pushed down by Surgath, welting the ground and pounding his armor. In just one move Jon hasn't felt this much unfathomable force ever since his dad tried to shove vitamins up his defying little toddler ass.

But this wasn't pain. If you wanted to see that you'd go down to witness the testicular cancer support groups, better yet a support group Jon was currently part of, "Superheroes who were beaten by their villains" support group. Constantly telling each other that they didn't fail and crying into each other's flappy retired bitch tits. Telling each other how they recovered from their wounds, what body wash do they use over their burns and shit, however, Daddy didn't even get hurt, he got fucking humiliated.

He was practically used to being faced down in a fetal position, not because of the manipulated gravity but because of crippling depression. He wondered what type of speeches these guys would make at the "Defeated by Surgath" support group. Would that Sigil dude be screaming and flipping over folding chairs? Would Axiom be gentle and asking him to calm down? Is Capacitator organic? Would Tremor be there, she's nice to look at.

Jon remembers how humane superheroes can be at times, looking back at James Novak's presentation at the hero con, they were all so happy and safe. But now they're all making the same scared and frightened faces when the explosions happened and his heart rate was increased tenfold, it was an anxiety attack. Post-traumatic distress, his support group's advice would be to breathe it out, having a fucking mutual soaping in a shower or something to take your mind off of it.

But he couldn't breathe, he was glued to the ground and with his last gasp of air he yelled.

"Surgath! You're under arrest!"

Then Terminus performed police brutality.

Holy shit did Terminus's parents hate him growing up. His eyes almost blinded, not from the sheer power of light but how unfathomable and quick it was.

Finally standing up, "Is it.. Is it over?"

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Re: Surgath Reigns: RUINATION

Post by Infinitum » Thu Nov 14, 2019 4:39 am



The Power of a Titan, Now Unrestrained

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In all his various crusades and missions across the cosmos, he had never encountered a planet with such a wide variety of powerful beings. Earth had at her disposal not only a number of artisans and craftsmen capable of rivalling any other civilization, but also people with abnormal skill sets and abilities that set them apart far and away from their peers. Sorcerers, those with extra-dimensional bonds, an abundance of elemental manipulators... but perhaps the ones that interested Surgath the most were those possessed of indomitable willpower. Despite all of the bizarre powers engaging him at all angles, it was the stubbornness of those who braved the fight to begin with that caught his attention.

They knew the risks. They knew what they were up against. But, unfortunately for all of them, so did Surgath. This was no longer a war against an unknown enemy. It was to be a battle of attrition and strategy, Surgath's own willpower crashing against that of the entire planet he now made his stand upon. He was prepared for more unconventional ways of waging that war, as humanity had proven itself fully aware of many times in the past - not only against the Titan, but more-so against itself.

He eyed the mage carefully, his otherworldly senses alerting him to a gathering of energy - no matter how subtle, it was still something to look out for. That went for Capacitor - the woman who caused immense suffering for Myrmidon - as well as a newcomer to the Titan's mental understanding of Earth's defenders: Terminus. An engineer in style and at heart, Surgath could find a certain respect for him. That went for all of them. In his mind they were simply enemies, to be the subject of neither hate nor vilification. They were people.

Perhaps that was his first mistake. He didn't expect just how bizarre this race of people could become in order to try and stop him.

"Surgath! You're under arrest!"

The words echoed in his mind, but they did not leave. They pinned him there, his weapons frozen in his hands. Did he have the right to move? His wrists were bound somehow, not by a will of his own. He struggled for a moment, but it was enough for the others to capitalize. He was brought out of this temporary illusion into another, more well-thought out one. The mage...

He knew it before he set foot into the strange dreamlike trance. The ethereal flora and fauna quickling distracting him, keeping him from seeing the real world beyond, were all her doing. The Reality Stone glimmered, pushing it all away so he could see. Nothing like that would cloud his vision again so long as he kept the crimson jewel crowning the knuckle of his gauntlet. But this, again, was too late. Humanity had a knack for capitalizing quickly and effectively. This was their moment to shine, together or not at all.

Using the chain of illusions, and powered by the intangible throwing arm of Sigil's eclipsing sanity, Arno Flint made another daring strike using his own body as a projectile. His safety hardly mattered if it meant the salvation of his planet, of his people. He was just like Augustus in that regard, perhaps less refined or pure, but he was similar nonetheless. Surgath caught the shield's bladed edge against his chest, the wound curving as the hardened muscle and bone deflected it. Yet a cut there was, superficial at this point yet evidence enough of the shield's special qualities.

Yet even this was not the end of the attempt on his life. Blunt and crudely effective, Capacitor's continued meddling in the affairs of the Titans was understandably fierce. She had a taste of combat against Myrmidon twice before, and now she faced the more powerful of the two. Surgath couldn't decide if her electrical burst was a test of his durability, exploiting the cut Arno made, or trying to push him off-planet with the sheer, unrelenting momentum of it. His heavy feet kicked up a massive amount of debris as he was sent back, unflinching and remaining very much on Earth.

It was then that Surgath realized just what their plan was in all of this. A portal, behind him and left undetected due to its instantaneous manifestation, opened wide and waited for him to enter against his will. The pure power of the vacuum of space had a hand in pinning him down, but the blue shimmer on his gauntlet saw to it that such an event would not occur. However, Terminus had different plans. Turbo-charged and ready to hammer the Titan with all he had, the engineer blasted Surgath with an astounding level of energy behind the weapons he fired. Already teetering on that very edge between Earth and the Great Dark, Surgath finally lost his footing and was sent out into the void.

Surgath tumbled in an effort to collect himself during the barrage, but to no avail. He was sent hurtling into the side of the moon facing the portal and was effectively pinned there by Terminus' continued attack. Though the satellite was superdense, the gravity was already a non-factor due to the Space Stone's own interference. He watched as the portal closed, staring into Terminus' eyes beyond the suit he hid behind. He didn't say anything, and only offered a smirk as the last thing Nicholas would see as the Titan was sealed behind the veil of time and space.

It was then that the greatest test yet given to Surgath by the defenders of Earth would begin. He noticed something in the far-off reaches of the stars. Perhaps a sun, but the fact that he had already felt the immeasurable warmth of one caused him immediate concern. He couldn't react fast enough. The countermeasures against him were in motion the second he left the tepid reaches of the quaint planet he had become infuriatingly familiar with. He sighed, finding this entire situation becoming far more complicated than he had ever intended.

What washed over him could only be described as a planet-killer, something that couldn't possibly be manufactured by humans or by any sentient being currently alive. The weapon was ancient, whatever Terminus had conjured from the depths of reality. It didn't belong to him and he knew it. All he wanted, however, was to erase Surgath from the very face of the universe. He was close, so immeasurably close.

The wound that Arno inflicted, that Capacitor agitated, became the focal point of the world-eater's wrath. Most of Surgath's armor was outright obliterated, keeping him at least publicly decent but eradicating all other forms of ornamental wear. His skin grew crisp and hot and the flesh underneath twisted in pain. Yet what remained beyond all of this was the cruel reminder of his forebears. The Ynerax Gauntlet, something he had sworn off using in this battle and he had used it many times already. He was cursed to wear it, cursed to use it, and cursed to rule by it. Even now the Shapeless Ones mocked him for his ignorance as yet another one of their impossible weapons sought to take his life.

From beyond the grave, were still exercising their rights as creators to try and force their will as gods. His gods? Never. His creators and the reason he still existed, perhaps. They were forcing him to obey through their old rites of conquest, relics scattered throughout the cosmos - relics that Nicholas somehow found and repurposed.

As soon as it started, it was over. The purpose of the superweapon Terminus threw him into the path of was to erase what he could not. But it failed. Surgath remained, though he was unresponsive to the cataclysmic emptiness he floated through.

"The Shapeless Ones have been dead for a long time. This was not of their making. You are free to choose what to do next. You are not a slave to your creators. You can break free of the narrative set before you, of the failure you are destined for,"

He stirred, but did not awaken.

"My son..."

He opened his eyes, clenching his fists. He knew what he had to do.

The Space Stone glowed hot, and Surgath disappeared through a portal to where the residual energies of the blast still resided. Hovering within the grasp of the void, he set to work - not even admiring anything else at this point. His need for retribution outweighed anything else, including his somewhat lenient nature towards his enemies. He had given them a chance, and they proved their worth. Now began the process of dissecting and crushing them. His knuckle radiated a purple light, and he pulled back his armored fist. The resulting punch, reinforced by the Power Stone, smashed Sol's Hammer into a considerable amount of debris considering its size and nature as a planet-killing weapon.

Though still technically operable, Surgath had crushed a sizeable amount of functions necessary for those operations and turned them into a veritable asteroid belt of debris. With another portal, the Titan was back on Earth. But this time he opened yet another far above the battlefield - one wide enough for the remainder of his counterattack.


Image


That same debris he tore from the heart of Sol's Hammer would be the instruments of the storm he rained down upon the combatants gathered against him. Hundreds of thousands of tons rained down in the form of immeasurable chunks of metal, all burning hot upon ripping through the atmosphere at terminal velocity. The barren wasteland chosen as the warzone would become a moonscape of craters and impact zones, but that was not the extent of Surgath's reaction.

The Stones wailed in protest at the sudden influx of demands being forced their way. His will pushed them all down, seizing control and gleaning the results. The only way to free himself and the universe from the curse of the Shapeless Ones... was to destroy all evidence of them.

"You can't destroy what we have made for you to wield, Titan,"

"Am I simply a weapon then? To be used and discarded?"

"You were designed as such, and you will obey,"

"The only way to destroy the Stones is with another weapon of the Shapeless Ones. You've chosen your Gauntlet's wielder poorly."

"We shall see."

It would be here. Of course it would be here. The deciding factors between Earth and the Titan were barely a cognisant reason for his invasion. The initial interest, the discovery of the Perfect Cube and his estranged daughter, the unearthing of the first Ynerax Stones, and now the return... but for what? The irony of breaking the same Stones upon the anvil of their discovery was not lost upon the Titan, but it all seemed too convenient.

The Shapeless Ones were too far away, tempting Surgath with infinite power many times over to see if he would fall to the same predations of his ancestors... the same ones who caused the downfall of his people. His creators wanted a clean slate in order to test further weapons of universal destruction. He had accomplished that already in many ways, paving the way for his Law of Progress with the blood of countless trillions. The Stones were not to blame. The Shapeless Ones were not to blame. The Major and his introduction of the cosmic narrative was not to blame.

Surgath... was to blame. This was all his doing, from the very start. All of this was him preparing to jump from the mental cliff he found himself on. The Law of Progress meant nothing if he was not willing to reinforce every aspect of it. Ever since he found his daughter again, he had been trying to find a way to justify all of this to her. But the truth was that such a thing was impossible, because his very existence was impossible if that meant appeasing one person in the universe - even if it was his daughter.

The Stones were a weapon. Surgath was a weapon, but he wasn't the Shapeless Ones' tool.

He was his own narrative. Only the Titan of Progress could give the universe what it needed. Only Surgath could reign.

And reign he did.

Looking down upon the lunar landscape he had made of the battlefield, the scarlet gem glowed upon his knuckle - that of Reality, and the reality he chose for those who arrayed themselves against him was grim indeed. Those same shards of Sol's Hammer that Surgath weaponized began to bend and reshape into humanoid figures. Each one would attack a certain member of the arrayed host, instantly copying powers and skills in order to perfectly mimic and adapt to those they fought. These new introductions to the war would only serve as a mild distraction for now, as Surgath stood in midair and watched as the escalation unfolded.



Into my heart on air that kills
From yon far country blows:
What are those blue remembered hills,
What spires, what farms are those?

That is the land of lost content,
I see it shining plain,
The happy highways where I went
And cannot come again.

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Scythia
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Re: Surgath Reigns: RUINATION

Post by Scythia » Thu Nov 14, 2019 6:19 am

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TIME TO STAND UP


Progress.

She had heard that word, in countless languages, in countless contexts, as countless reasons. Excuses. Progress, 236 had learned in her short life, was an excuse. Over and over and over again. Excuses for immorality. Society has progressed. Excuses for injustice. The loss of the few is simply the price of the betterment of the many.

Excuses for genocide.

She had never met the Titan of Progress, at least, from what she remembered, and she stoically refused to believe that such a monster could have fathered any child, let alone herself. All she knew of him was the devastation he had left in his wake. The barren worlds, the orphaned children, the unnatural silence that followed in his titanic footsteps. Surgath, Titan of Progress, was a force that had to be stopped. And she had agreed to help.

And Scythia was late to the party, even if late was an exaggeration, kind of.
She had agreed to wait to enter the battle until after the Society of Superheroes had engaged the Titan with their plan. Even with the revelation that she was of Titan stock herself, she was still only one warrior, armed with nothing but a pair of knives and her wits. Kilian had a good number of much better weapons hidden in the floorboards and walls of the KITT, which she would be more than willing to use as necessary. But she'd seen the armies he'd crushed on a whim. The ones not decimated by his own men had never stood a chance against a Titan bearing the weapons of the Shapeless Ones. Earth, she felt, was different, in many ways, but every little bit of extra preparation would help. 236 had promised Teja Docesznic that she was capable of violence. That she would use that violence to help the broken, and the weak. And she fully intended to make good on that promise.

The KITT sat at the very boundaries of Earth's atmosphere, waiting for the lights below to die down. Waiting for the storm to fall slowly silent, for the fighting to fade. 236's eyes watched the location, as if she could see the antlike figures so far below determining the fate of their blue planet. As if she wasn't simply up here waiting for communications that might never come - for something, anything to say whether or, more likely, when she could join the fray.
It was taking too long. While, compared to Kilian and his humans, Scythia had the patience of a saint, her very nature cried out for her to join the fray. She felt like she'd already waited too long as it was.

The Titan of Progress was not the only one who would forge his own destiny on this day.

236's hands worked deftly along the controls, making the final preparations for her entrance. For a half a moment, she found herself thinking that she was missing something. Maybe she'd simply asked herself "what would Kilian add?", or maybe she was starting to grow sick of the sounds of her own breathing and her own thoughts. She knew he'd kept an album in the ship's database, and it didn't take her long to find the song she wanted from it.
As the music blared to life, her sturdy little probe began its descent.

Image

Where have all the good men gone
And where are all the gods?

Where's the streetwise Hercules to fight the rising odds?

Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed?

Late at night I toss and I turn
And I dream of what I need....



While the Titan's eyes were cast to the ground, a second hammer of judgment fell from the sky - this one not nearly as impressive, or oppressive, but more emphatic. More personal. A single cry of a warrior above the heads and ears of an army, deafening, and perhaps defeating the purpose of the projectile producing the sound.
That cry was Bonnie Tyler's voice, echoing out of an empty escape pod as it hurtled toward the Titan's head.

236 waited until the last possible moment before breaking free of her ship. Perhaps the KITT had been Kilian's, but if she lived until this was all over, she promised herself she'd purchase him a new one. Right now, she simply focused, letting the gravity of this strangely familiar world welcome her back to its surface, dropping like a stone - density, rather than weight, guiding her directly to the earth below, where black boots cracked barren earth beneath, and the jolt snapped abruptly through her body, pulling her from any remnants of her inner thought, and throwing her consciousness into the blank mindset required for battle.

While most people would have been concerned about having a four-man probe dropped on their heads from high altitudes, 236 hadn't intended for her assault to cause damage. She had meant to make an entrance, to seize his attention from the rest of the warriors - who, she saw now, he was preoccupying with puppets. The contempt that she had momentarily controlled blossomed to life again, and gold eyes glared at the man in the sky, if this could still be called a man by any standards.

If Myrmidon wasn't lying, if her nature wasn't lying - if the painfully familiar tear at her gut wasn't lying, the same ripping tear she felt whenever she looked down on this beautiful blue sphere from space - if they were telling the truth, then she was his match, made of Titan stock, of Surgath's own stock, Titan blood and body. While she wasn't quite sure of all the details that entailed - she hadn't had any desire to discuss it with Myrmidon at the time, considering how abrupt his revelations had been - but if he was right, then as another Titan, perhaps she could withstand Surgath long enough for the rest of her allies to regroup. If Myrmidon hadn't been lying, perhaps she could even distract him entirely, but she couldn't count on that. She could only count on herself.

And if everything around her was right, then there was only one thing she, herself, could say to him. She took a deep breath, but she still couldn't keep months of hate for everything this being represented. Even if he tried to justify himself to her - even if he could convince her of what she still refused to believe, even if he could find justification for his actions - it would fall on deaf ears. Ears to whom the justifications didn't matter, and never would. Not while he continued to rule as tyrant with care for nothing but his progress.

Twin energy blades of finest make and model spun to life in her hands, an extension of her, of 236, of Scythia, emerging from their sheaths as naturally as her voice called above the sounds of the battlefield.

"Hey, Dad. Been a while."
While fates permit us, let's be merry;
Pass all we must the fatal ferry;
And this our life, too, whirls away,
With the rotation of the day.

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Sigil
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Re: Surgath Reigns: RUINATION

Post by Sigil » Thu Nov 14, 2019 8:02 am



Bones cracked beneath the pressure of countless worlds spawned by nothing more than a thought within a purple skull. Surgath's power was something else even when compared to the rabid bear that was Sigil. A machine that was fueled by nothing but rage, a rage that kept him from feeling the crunch of his bones breaking, reforming, and breaking again. Destructive screams of Kinetic energy burst from his mouth following each rabid cry. Then, in what seemed like an instant, he could move.

The earth beneath his feet exploded, fractured beneath the sudden burst of pressure he generated as he pushed him self high into the blackened Alaskan sky. He could feel the sting of the storm striking his open wounds, rips in his flesh from the sudden increase in size. Blood coated his arms, dripped from his legs, and spewed from his mouth with each barbaric howl. He tried desperately to locate the purple target of his bloodlust whose absence only caused his rage to grow more senseless. Without a target to channel his rage into he found himself losing sight of who he was fighting. The angrier he got the less he cared about who was an ally and the more he simply wanted to destroy everything he could.

Finally his velocity reached it's peak, high above the black storm clouds, his eyes saw the curvature of the Earth for a moment before gravity took hold of him. It ripped him back down to the world below like a Kraken dragging a ship down into the depths of the ocean. The pitch black unkown that was madness. Bursting through the black clouds he dug his fingers into the rubble of Sol's Hammer, his rage almost calling the entity within him into a visible existence. It's massive tentacles whipped behind him catching pieces of debris before compressing them down into bullets. Super dense bullets that had no reason to exist yet here they were and each one now packed more destructive power.

Sigil had no intention of stopping the any part of the debris only increasing it's lethality while shrinking the area of effect. Like a rain of hellfire missiles Sigil let loose as many super dense bullets as he could make in Surgaths general direction with no regard for any other life within his vicinity. Especially not the new comer to the battle. Instead he leapt from the massive chunk of metal he was crouched on and dug his heels into the ground to halt his momentum.

The Spider was the closest living being and so the Spider would be on the receiving end of his rage. He was ready to tear the Spider apart when the debris around them began to move. The metal starting to mold itself into the people that were gathered there, in a way Surgath had done them all a favor by creating these things. Like a cat blinded by a laser pointer Sigil shot forwards, dug his fingers into an artificial skull, and smashed it into the ground until it was no more. He turned his head to the left, a group of them gathering, AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH. A cone of mental force tore through the landscape, raw kinetic energy that would obliterate anything in its path.
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Sigil set upon more of the doppelgangers looking to tear them apart with the massive invisible claws of his Eldritch or smash them to pieces with his bare hands. Tentacles lashed out at anything around them with reckless abandoned. Friend, foe, right now it didn't matter and the safest thing to do was to keep moving away from him. Even when they fought back none of the creatures were able to adapt faster than he could rip them apart. Some managed to catch him, stab him with artificial blades, or resist the first few of his attacks but, in the end all would fall.


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Terminus
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Re: Surgath Reigns: RUINATION

Post by Terminus » Thu Nov 14, 2019 3:50 pm

TerminOS v3.2.8
Now Playing: AC/DC- Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap.

Armor Model: Titanic.
Active Module: Telamon.

Pilot: Pendragon, Nicolas.
System Status: Nominal.


"Watch your six, captain. You got incoming."

As Surgath warped back to Earth, Pendragon sighed. He'd been fond of Sol's Hammer. It would cost trillions of units to rebuild. Not that he wasn't good for it, but the loss was irksome.

Well, if he can take my toys away, I'm gonna take his.

Judging by the suit feeds in Alaska, the Society was preoccupied. Their opponent had animated the debris of his weapon, turned them into proxy bodies. Yet more proof that he was simply too powerful to beat conventionally. Not while he wore that gauntlet. He'd survived the fire of a supernova. These heroes had no chance at all.
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"Computer. Deploy the Telamon module."

At the engineer's command, his armor's arms opened, the massive cannons disengaging, and immediately returning to his lab through a recall-portal. In their place, a pair of massive barrels, resembling a sleeker anti-aircraft guns, appeared. Along with them came ammunition. But he wouldn't be firing bullets. These were missiles- each the equivalent to an ICBM -shrunken down to the size of a conventional rifle round. Through the use of Mitch Stervos' Atlas Particle, this 'diminutive ordinance' hit proportionally harder the smaller its size was reduced to.

Opening fire with these guns could wipe a city off of the map in seconds. Against Surgath, all they could hope was that it would buy them some time.

Another portal opened, and Nicolas passed through, returning to Earth. He was far above the site of the battle, and descending rapidly. Not falling, but flying straight down, towards Surgath. As Terminus fell, he opened fire with the Telamon cannons, intending for the miniaturized missiles to rain down upon his back. As they impacted, each detonation would be thousands of times louder than the missiles' small size suggested.

Showing no sign of slowing, Pendragon appeared to be on a collision course with the titan. Before impact, however, he gave the suit a silent command. Eject.

This wasn't a suicide run. The Titanic armor was far too powerful to be used in such a wasteful manner. But it could be operated autonomously, effectively doubling Pendragon's presence on the battlefield, albeit temporarily. As the suit's exterior opened to allow him to leap out, Pendragon was commanding it technopathically. It would- without ceasing fire -attempt to physically restrain Surgath, wrapping powerful mechanical arms around him. Roughly equivalent to the Titan of Progress in stature, the Titanic armor would be able to keep him in place for what came next.

Though he'd initially appear unarmored, as he exited the Titanic, Nicolas wouldn't be free-falling for long. The chromatic living metal, Esoterium, would seep from his pores, forming another suit of armor in seconds. Thrusters kicked in, the lights a pale blue, rather than the piercing red of the Titanic.
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While the more physically powerful Titanic would hold Surgath in place, trying to keep his attention, Terminus himself would pursue the objective. His Terminus 3.0 armor was a backup, which he wore under his skin at all times. It meant he'd never be completely defenseless, even if his outer armor was destroyed. It also freed him up to attempt maneuvers like this.

With far more maneuverability than he'd had before, Pendragon moved to circle Surgath, and make a play for the Ynerax Stones. They made the Titan of Progress almost untouchable. Earth's defenders wouldn't have many more chances to rid him of them. But attempting to turn the stones against Surgath would likely go poorly as well. Michael Carter's transformation during the Decimation had proved that.

"Begin Scatter protocol."

Flying at full power, Nicolas attempted to place a single hand on the gauntlet. He'd been briefed on the abilities and appearances of each Ynerax Stone, and it was the red one he reached for. Reality. It outstripped each of the others in power, such that it could create a small army of artificial warriors to occupy the Society. Without it, they might have a chance.

Rather than try to pry the crimson gem from the gauntlet, Terminus simply tried to wrap his palm around it. After a scant few seconds, his Scatter protocol would engage- trying to teleport the Reality Stone elsewhere. Not to a 'secure' location. No vault or prison would keep out the Titan forever. A randomly selected set of coordinates, somewhere within the universe. No records were kept- not even Pendragon would be able to track it down.

The moment he was sure he'd succeeded- if he succeeded at all -Nicolas would give the command to disengage. He'd kick off of Surgath, and put distance between the Titan and himself, directing the Titanic suit to circle around. His intent was to re-enter the larger, more durable armor, before a retaliatory strike could come. Underneath the mask, and despite the climate-controlled interior of his armor, Pendragon was sweating.

So focused was he on this assault, Nicolas hadn't yet taken stock of the battlefield. For the moment, the SOS was standing their ground. If he'd managed to take the Reality Stone out of play, their scrap-metal opponents would be rendered useless. Bur Surgath still had three of the most powerful weapons in the universe.

"Teja, d'you know this girl? If she's on our side, you should probably get her behind cover. I somehow doubt her dad is gonna start pulling his punches."

Terminus didn't trust the green-skinned girl. Not a bit. He had nothing against aliens in general- that would have made living in the Galaxy's Crossroads pretty hard. But the timing here was a little too... convenient. Not to mention the fact that he was pretty sure Surgath's daughter was a glowing cube.

Hey, maybe the touching family reunion will draw some heat off of me.

Yeah, right.

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