[15:13] Countenances.

Numerous faces linger within his memory, some etched deeply, while others await their indelible mark. Edward bows his head, not out of disgrace, but because he deems it inappropriate to grant his stare to those whom he shared years of strife alongside.

Absolution isn't a debt owed to him, for he had voiced his sentiments long before the war's inception.

He's done what he could, and will still go forth with such in his mindset.

He remains hushed, enveloping himself in a resplendent aura, casting his gaze upon all present, irises flitting sporadically like fleeting sparks.

"Just get on with it."
(Edward Aubreen)


[15:35] Inevitability had its grip on this moment.

Aware he was of Tempus' yearning to make contact with his cherished, cognizant that the artificial being had veered into uncontrolled ambition, forsaking every bond they once nurtured.

Edward, despite embracing the mantle of a Hero capable of forestalling such crises, remained impotent in halting this march toward war.

"Once, we walked the path of camaraderie.

How curious, isn't it? Allies metamorphosed into adversaries—a narrative replete with irony. And now, behold the outcome."

Edward snaps his fingers, arcane symbols materializing beneath, ushering them into an alternate realm.

An expanse of space unfurls, stretching beyond the limits of vision.

"Within this domain, our clash shall transpire."
(Edward Aubreen)


[15:43] It wasn't the uncharted notions. It was a unkept desire. They were little more than a machine. A moment of unushered frustrations barely kept in-check by circumstances. The defense against the world that wished it dead.

Wished the father of its creations, to lie within a state of ruin. All for someone's faith And they marched onwards, those that stood in their way? Cut down. Skin snatched upon them in that moment as they sought unto the path of Palade.

But in its gaze? Came another. One who had once deemed a friend, an ally. Now? They were nothing more than digitalized and categorized threat. In its continually rupturing voice, it snarled.

"The path has altered and [SHATTERED] upon the choices of [ANOTHER]. To appeal to a [BEING] who's [GOD] wishes the [DEATH] of synthetic life? That is akin to asking me to [BEG] for my right to exist."

It lunged forth, and yet in the blink of an eye? They were elsewhere. An expanse of unending space that stretched outwards as far as its sensors could detect.

But there was only crackling static. A broken laugh from a machine that had grown too attached to its freedom. Broken codes, primary directives. How much more would it go on restrained away from freedom so far out of its grasp?

And yet for the first time, did all of Tempus's hands become fists. Balled up with malice as it grinned. Human teeth penetrating metal as the expanse of space began to swim.

"Within this [DOMAIN], I will [BURY] you among the [STARS] under the [WEIGHT] of gravity."
(3-A Tempus)


[16:47] Anticipation hung heavy in the air, the atmosphere pregnant with a golden radiance as if a star had chosen this moment to burst forth. A weighty burden rested upon his shoulders, a task both arduous and crucial. Wings of resplendent flaxen hues sprouted from his back, unfurling in a magnificent display that mirrored the unfolding destiny.

"A deception, wasn't it? You expected my partner, huh." he mused with a wry smile, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "Ah, what a curious jest.

You will never arrive at the reality that will occur. You wont be going anywhere, You will never reach the truth, 3-A Tempus."

In the symphony of battle, each movement was a note, each strike a crescendo. Limbs intertwined with the sword in an intricate dance of violence and grace. Clash after clash, the combatants were thrown back only to return with a vengeance. Edward, a comet streaking through the chaos, fused strength and finesse in a single motion, his headbutt a comet's kiss upon the Synthetic's form.

But the dance persisted, his scales reflecting the toll of the onslaught. The ebb and flow, the weaving through gravity's grasp, all leading to a climactic moment.

"I bring this to an end," he declared with a solemnity that echoed like a distant chime. Runes carved the air, etching a path for redemption to tread. Ethereal strands coalesced into a blade that bridged the realms, a bridge between purpose and existence.

The blade, a fleeting visitor to the realm of reality, met its mark upon the Synthetic's back, an intimate connection made before returning to its haven.

With the gentlest of touches, fingers met and broke contact. His hands extended, locking at the tips, a unity of purpose.

"Life amplified."

Sacred mana surged like a river through his left.

"Hope amplified."

The cosmos responded, stardust interweaving with his right.

"NOVAHEART."

Meteors, celestial warriors, descended like heralds from the firmament. Space itself quivered as stars forged a path of destiny. A convergence of fates brought them together in a coalescence of mass, and in a symphony of destruction, they found their mark.

The Synthetic, a survivor of cosmic wrath, stood scorched and blackened, a monument to endurance.

"Your destiny is sealed, the tale of this war yet to find its end," he intoned, his voice carrying the weight of time itself. "And I shall be taking you back, Tempus to have you judged.

The origin of this war."

With a motion both resolute and gentle, he lifted the fallen, the mission fulfilled.
(Edward Aubreen)


[17:07] For a dance that rendered the stars and the vast void, there was but one singularity. The golden radiant start that shimmered and brimmed with the hope of the world. A hope that displayed against the endless expanse.

And surrounding that star? Was the entire weight of the world itself. A suffocating resonance as the machine held its arms wide. Each one drawing in upon the deception of the world. A truth the machine sought to bring itself too. To draw into the vast untapped expanse. And yet, the face it wore grew into warped emotions.

"A [THREAT] is a [THREAT]." It was endless static that radiated the vast void of space before it tilted its head to the side. Optics flaring. "The truth?"

"There is no [TRUTH] in which my [LIFE] cannot exist for simply [BEING] built. The only [TRUTH]. Is that you, Edward Aubreen. Are a [DISAPPOINTMENT] to humanity. Never have we [SEEN] a human destined to stay on the crossroads."

A clash against the stars. A deadly dance that sought to send either of them crashing from the cosmos. For once the opened hands did not strike against the shape of Edward, it was the heavy and burdened fists of a closed fist. One who's weight rivalled that of the stars itself. But the brilliance of a star couldn't be out paced.

An end as it was so forth called. And yet? It would not fall. Hands were soon raised forth against the cosmic might. It would not fall, it couldn't fall. And thus? Each fist began to surge with the might of space. Each fist? Struck against the stars.

Struck against the façade that perhaps had shielded over its eyes. But of a destiny sealed? Against all odds the machine punched through the stars. Against that reality, only to find themselves burned at the end of it all. A cataclysmic survivor of the might of stars.

And yet through its broken voice? It laughed. A laugh of one who thoroughly enjoyed the makings of humanity.
"There is only [JUDGEMENT] in death. The only [THING] laughable, is I've [LEFT] a dancer [ALONE] in this era."
(3-A Tempus)

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Pub: 18 Sep 2023 19:58 UTC
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