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The Case of the Runaway Train [Cion]
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Post by Cion on Nov 30, 2019 10:04:18 GMT
Finally - something that sounded not merely like a sufficient idea, but a proper plan! Not only that, but everyone was immediately on board, including the grumbly Angel. "Splendid!" Cion exclaimed with a beaming grin gracing her face. Evidently she was quite eager to get his show started, and end it in one fell swoop. Chuckling jocundly, she gave Denryu and Falcon a laid-back salute with two fingers before she flash-stepped away onto a wing of Vertigo. Standing there calmly, unperturbed by the winds that thrashed her hair, she nodded firmly. "I advise not remaining in the line of fire."
Clearing her throat, the silver fennec actually had the intention to simply overtake the GranLocomon herself, but it was probably expedient to utilize her partner and not reveal everything she had at her disposal. Patting the sentient aircraft's chassis, it understood at once and soared forward with a sudden eruption of spiffing speed. It made not falling off somewhat more difficult, but in her poise she refused to display that openly. Beholding the impressive and useful tactical ability utilized by the chimeric Renamon, she knew exactly what to do to hopefully finish this in a jiffy. When the fields of crystalline pillars had fully formed itself, the unassuming ascendant leapt down from the frame of her cherished companion to enter a free fall for a few moments. Eventually, upon reaching a height that was in the colossal train's path, a golden, almost smoldering aura manifested itself around her, which apparently allowed her to levitate through sheer volition alone. Facing the hampered, gargantuan target, a confident, slight snotty smile appeared on her lips. The last time she had unleashed a part of her potential had ended in a great disappointment - however today, no vile MacGuffin would render her intentions in vain.
Aureate fires within her eyes flared violently as her relentless impetus echoed throughout these barren parts of the digital world. To her, it was inevitable that the doom imposed by the adversary was its own to incur in due time, and the still restrained Arniomon was more than glad to be the executioner of this righteous retribution. For a mere blink of an eye, bluish, raw data and unformed code materialized themselves around her right hand and arm. It was her weapon... but it shifted into vorpal crimson. Gone was the adroitness of a lady as, at last, a part of innermost animus she hid so well surfaced anew. A storm of red sparks and energy enshrouded her frame, almost as if beckoned by the approaching villain. "Ter...ra's..." Cion whispered, though her voice managed to traverse the sandy, gritty vastness regardless. Willing to finish this bizarre if amusing endeavor, there was no reason to even consider an evasive maneuver. Thoughts of the woes and suffering this corrupted beast had spread crept into her awareness, fueling her innermost fury that originated from world-weariness and personal anguish. Within the span of a single second, grains of sands and other stones soared upwards, engulfed in crimson bolts. Tearing through the desert and sky, red runes and code depurated the nearby area. The presence of the D-Reaper's residue was crystal clear in its aura, but that was of no concern to the wielder. If a brute could solely satisfy itself by lethal larceny, then why not show it what might earned in uncountable triumphs of mortal combat truly was? Pupils narrowed, becoming thin slits that dwindled to a beastly tiny size. "... Wrath!" She bellowed at the top of her lungs, pushing her arms forward to enforce her judgment that carried the sin's name she had failed to erase. As the uncannily long second ultimately reached its expiration, a titanic swath of primordial power surged out of her body - the nearly adjacent target being the frenzied Locomon. Any impact, be it digimon or ground, caused the volatile mass of blood-red force to collapse in on itself. A crescent, coned zone that was a hundred meter in length burst apart abruptly as feral violence engulfed its path in red, ancient destruction. Vaporizing lifeless matter, the detonation emitted shock waves that fissured dunes of sand, reaching as far as the horizon. Eventually, only plumes of beige smolders lingered, slowly fading away to tell the unbiased truth. Cion's breath was heavy, and her expression was narrowed to a faint frown. This was by no means the might she had channeled against Daemon, but even in her purposefully conservative from this attack had been arduous to a degree. A few seconds of respite sufficed to rectify this though. Battle Log: Passive: - Numen Aeternum: Reduced Physical Strength - Increased Maximum Health, Defenses and Pain Threshhold.
Move: - Cion utilizes 'Terra's Wrath' to deal grave damage to @granlocomon - Cion does not utilize Combat-Passive Ability 'Elysian Sanction'
Buffs: 1) / 2) / Debuffs: 1) / 2) /
Active Effects On Enemies: - Enemies Struck by Elysian Sanction: 1) Slightly reduced speed and mobility + small stacking shock damage (per lodged javelin {max. 3})
- GrandLocomon: 1) 0 Ethereal Javelins 2) / 3) / 4) /
Cion's Cooldowns: 1) Terra's Wrath: 0/3 2) - 3) - 4) - 5) -
Ability Durations: 1) - 2) -
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Post by Metal Drive on Dec 2, 2019 0:37:08 GMT
The GranLocomon's trail was set, and the Arniomon thought it wise to put herself right in its path. Ultimately, the vehicle had no choice but to barrel straight on ahead, towards this unknown threat, so it increased its odds as much as possible.
Steam barreled out of the engine as it redoubled its efforts, and once more, that shrill whistle pierced through the air. Cion would more directly feel the effects of it this time, a deathly piercing sound that threatened to lock her movement, like a thousand nails piercing through her head at once. And if the GranLocomon could reach its target, the results could be, perhaps, devastating...
... But Cion had her own power. An almost evil aura seemed to surround her, the sand below lightly tinged red by the D-Reaper's influence. And at short range, that surge of power would erupt, slamming headlong into the GranLocomon's engine. On contact, a blinding explosion surged out, hollowing out the loose sand below, the exact moment of impact hidden behind that powerful explosion. But it could be heard: the horrible screech of the axels, the steel wheels against the rails, and a loud, continuous crash as the GranLocomon more-or-less barreled right into the pit.
The momentum of the vehicle carried past that, however, and Cion would be left with another sight, that of the following cars of the train snapping off their connections, hurting right in the diminutive Digimon's direction! At the same time, though, she'd feel something else: two strong arms wrapping around her midsection, from behind. And a moment later, that sound and the cacophony of the oncoming wreck would vanish from her ears. A moment later, Cion would likely realize that she was somewhere else: a good distance right above the fight, the grip loosening from around her. Angel, the winged Renamon, would give a nod towards Cion, a 'Kohenkyo' pulling them both out of its path. Looking down below, she'd see the mess: an outright train wreck, the cars scattered about the sun-caked sands below, and a heavily damaged engine, already starting to be buried in the sand that rushed to replace what was hollowed out in that explosion.
She gave a sigh. "... Alright. Alright, I think we can call that de-railed - tough fucker though, to take something like that head-on and still... exist." Angel struggled a bit, trying to find the best way to describe that last word. "Looks like you had a lot of steam to blow off, fox, if you were willin' to put yourself right in the mix of it with something like that."
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Post by Cion on Dec 2, 2019 16:54:46 GMT
It was only after her eruption of pure wrath that Cion's body registered the ear-piercing screech the GranLocomon emitted to stagger and nauseate her. Like splinters piercing her skull, she could feel every nerve and fiber of her being twisting in overwhelming sickness. Muscles barely submitted to her will as she mustered the entirety of her valor to pull through this suffering. With her limbs cramping, she was shocked to experience an ability this devastating - in spite of the fact that her corporeal vessel was not injured in the slightest. That must have been the way the beast... caught its prey...
Bearing her teeth, it was still with a proud smirk that the vulpine sentinel relished the view and noises of the demolition she wrought against the frenzied machine. Few occurrences were as satisfying to her than a plan executed well and an adversary vanquished without further ado. Breathing heavily, volition alone forced her hands open as she readied herself to engage the incoming wagons which came flying her way. However, before she had a chance to continue unleashing her might, everything suddenly ceased in an instance.
The touch around her waist startled her, as did the immediate shift of her perspective. Blinking, the restrained Arniomon realized that she was far above the absolute wreckage she had caused. "Huh?" She voiced under her breath upon feeling the grip on her midsection loosening. Floating in midair, she tilted her stance to adequately face the person who had intervened. To her surprise, it had been the chimeric Renamon of all people. Uncertain what to make of this, especially given their past convergences, she considered it becoming to show her appreciation regardless.
Hence she bowed to her - briefly yet respectfully. "Much obliged, Angel" She spoke concisely yet kindly. The truth was that she would have likely not needed any assistance, but even a gesture from a rival had to be properly acknowledged. Evidently, her 'rescuer' did not share her eloquence, which was of no importance anyway. Smiling, Cion turned to behold the riven destruction beneath her with folded arms and a confident expression.
"Indeed - its resilience is remarkable... for an insatiable Mega." She admitted her astonishment in a tactful, composed way. As for her personal impetus, the large fox was both correct and wrong with her hypotheses. "Rough years with lots of setbacks. I'm sure you are aware of the recent fiends and the havoc they imposed. Dark spires, the D-Reaper, now the Demon Lords... it's as if it this world was already moribund." The ancient ascendant explicated until she narrowed her gaze and frowned. "I however don't intend to simply allow any wight to do as it pleases, even if I have to, as you put it, get myself right in the mix. ... and giving them quarter; that would ultimately lead to the same result as submittal."
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Post by Metal Drive on Dec 3, 2019 0:37:52 GMT
"Tch, don't mention it."
Angel was rough and crass, yes, but she wasn't about to leave an ally - temporary as it was - hanging out to dry. She cracked her knuckles, giving a nod as they looked down upon the wreckage below. The GranLocomon looked more-or-less trapped, lying motionless in its impromptu pit. Was it knocked out? Was it broken? Just how did these mechanical Digimon work, anyway?
Cion's roundabout words (at least from her perspective) didn't do much to help Angel's focus. She was curious, yes, but her ear flicked, the fox tilting her head at a particular word. 'Moribund'? "It means 'dying', Angel." A mechanical voice crackled behind that mask, the fox letting out an audible 'tch' at that. "Look, if what you're saying is you're not gonna let anything happen right in front of you, I get it - "
"Then you two'd do better to check the situation at hand." A more familiar voice piped up through Angel's earpiece. "How's it look from up there?"
"Engine's detached from all but one of its cars. Even if it does wake up, should be easy for either one of us to tear it apart. Which we should-"
"Check the engine car first. If there's foul play, I'd rather investigate."
"... As you wish, D." She gave a sigh, looked over towards Cion with a shrug, and would descend right down to the wreckage. Up close, the damage caused by Cion's onslaught was far more evident. Perhaps surprisingly, the vehicle wouldn't look too damaged at a glance - but the outside panels were set ajar, electrical sparks practically spitting out like a fountain in certain areas. The integrity of its armor proved too effective, the vehicle not able to absorb the shock of the blast that ran through its system
The hatch to the engine car seemed stuck for a moment, Angel uselessly trying it twice. "Ugh, fuck it." Stabbing a claw towards a corner, she'd peel it right open like a sardine can, tossing the curled piece of metal up over the edge of the dune before taking a peek inside. Inverted ninety degrees, the engine car's new 'floor' was riddled with broken grass and scrap metal, a once eloquent corridor now looking like little more than a rusted, abandoned rental warehouse. She cautiously stepped inside - and if Cion followed, she'd largely be relying on the Arniomon's glow to make out what was going on in here.
Nothing overly special about the body of the engine - she made her way to the front, looking over the dash at the control panel. Interesting: amidst the wreckage, there seemed to be a few personal effects. Pictures, of some sort?
"Did this guy have a driver?" The fox questioned, looking at a faded, now damaged, picture. Some sort of Strabimon or Gazimon or something was once in the frame - but Angel took a sniff in the air. "Don't smell any data - doesn't seem like he died in the impact or anything. Ugh, something stinks 'bout all this."
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Post by Cion on Dec 7, 2019 9:28:48 GMT
Always acting so rough and crass - but for some reason, Cion believed that the dark vanguard had her soft sides somewhere deep within her soul. Otherwise, why assist, though unnecessary, a rival who gladly obliged to engage in mortal combat? Shrugging, she quickly agreed to no longer mention it and cast this speculation aside. They evidently had more important matters to deal with anyway. "I see..." She spoke quietly in response, doubting that someone like Angel, even if she was capable of doing selfless deeds, actually comprehended her fierce mindset. But again, this was of no significance.
Allowing abrasive chimera to finish her conversation with her crew, the silver fennec decided to wordless, and almost noiselessly, follow Denryu's main soldier. Briefly touching her own earpiece, she held a paw in front of the Renamon's chest to stop her for a second or two. During this time, their vision shifted slightly, yet significantly. As if under the effect of an inconceivably advanced HUD, getting a clearer view of allies and potential threats was bound to be advantageous. The former were highlighted in green, the latter in crimson. Other items and potentially unaligned people had a blue hue to them instead. These glows penetrated the darkness, invisibility effects, and the walls of the train wagons.
Nodding confidently to her temporary partner, the restrained Arniomon took a back seat and merely illuminated the interiors with the faint glow of her Cosmic Voyager aura. Although giving away her position, it was better than fumbling in the tenebrous cabins - and stepping in broken glass. Cautiously she looked around, making sure to fully utilize the UAV Recon that her cherished friend Vertigo provided. Given that they barely understood what was going on with this endeavor, any intel was guaranteed to be of great value. Nonetheless, the uncertainty gnawed at her spirit, despite the pride she had in her successful display of might.
"Perhaps." Cion responded, unsure what to make of the decoration inside the engine's car. Not knowing how to reply to Angel's second statement, she scratched her chin and allowed her aureate eyes to sway to the hybrid digimon. "Something we can't handle?" She asked, well-nigh in a cheekily rhetoric way. Nevertheless, they were none the wiser with this intricacy at hand.
"Truth be told, I just wonder what had caused the GranLocomon to go berserk. I mean... it voiced nothing, not even groans of pain now. It's as if it can't speak, feel or think at all - as if it had turned completely feral... or was dominated by an external force?" She spitballed calmly, wondering if these hypotheses were worthwhile to be mentioned. Ultimately, it left them with further questions and less answers. Scanning the room, she searched for anything they possibly have missed.
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Post by Metal Drive on Dec 7, 2019 18:55:28 GMT
"Hm?"
The Arniomon held her back? Angel gave a blink, seeing the smaller fox focus intently both on the engine car and the area around them. Well, she figured there was some purpose for it, so Angel just stepped back and let Cion do as she wanted. The engine car itself would give off a thin, wispy red aura, suggesting that the machine was still hostile but unlikely to provide a significant threat. The detached cars, meanwhile, gave off no color at all - and Angel herself, in that altered sight, would give a blue glow.
Not a friend. Not an enemy.
Once Cion was satisfied, Angel would peel the door and they would make their way in, Angel's ear flicking as she chuckled to Cion's response. "Well, if handling it involves 'hitting things', I think we're set up for that." But perhaps it was more than that.
Why did the GranLocomon go berserk? "Didn't it just snap, or something?"
"As a machine type?" The mechanical voice radiated from Angel's frame. "Any responsible conductor would have noticed that sort of abnormality - and they wouldn't have let the train even get off the dock. Either an outside force affected it, or maybe it was sabotaged from the start."
"Sabotage, huh..." As Cion checked out the room, Angel inspected the control panel. Annoyingly, pressing any button simply put up a request-for-password screen on the display - and there wasn't anything immediately around that suggested what the password would be. Instead, working with the other 'voices' in her head, Angel would check a few other things around the dash...
... And that's when she finally came to the ignition.
"... Wait, the fuck?"
Angel blinked, running a claw right at the edge of the ignition. They key was still slotted in, but the top part of it seemed to be twisted off. Not only that, but what she thought was a key looked like a piece of molten metal at this point - sort of like it was soldered in!
"Tch, so this one was hacked?" Angel swore under her breath, thinking through the situation out loud. "Mystery solved - whoever the pilot was shoved this thing into the control panel, let whatever code run, and the whole machine went haywire-"
"... Is it really that simple?" A gentler voice radiated from the mask on Angel's shoulder. "... Isn't it?"
"If the door was locked and the conductor did it, then why burn the key in? Its not like anyone would have been able to access it..."
Cion's own investigation into the rubble would turn something else up. Amidst the glass, there might have been something that caught Cion's attention after Angel brought up a key: a twisted piece of metal, with what looked like a standard serial code across it, like a tab ripped off of something else. Visible remnants of blood and data were caked right around the side.
Of course, it was just a piece of metal - it couldn't actively hurt them, and had no aura. But if she scanned the dash itself, the key might be giving off at least a slight red glow.
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Post by Cion on Dec 8, 2019 9:00:03 GMT
Strangely enough, the hearty chuckle that followed due to the jest delighted Cion. In a sense, she was glad and looked forward to obtaining insight into the character that was Angel. For ultimately better or worse, fully understanding those she encountered and potentially interacted with in the future was of great importance to her. A fondness for irony, sarcasm and pride were of course not a lot to grasp someone's nature, but hypotheses on certain traits could be made with this knowledge in mind. Combined with her crassness and roughness, yet willingness to lend allies a helping hand, it seemed she fit the mercenary archetype to a hair.
Sighing and giggling once simultaneously, she allowed the enhanced Renamon to pursue her investigations while she did hers. Gently floating through the tilted, broken cabin, her examination yielded no result, even with the wonderful UAV Recon that her cherished partner Vertigo provided from afar. At the very least they knew that the GranLocomon was still alive, though it appeared that it was in a vegetative state given its complete lack of actions, particularly resistance. Folding her arms, she eventually turned to her comrade for this mission to witness her... discovery.
Apparently, previous speculations about possible sabotage revealed themselves to be correct, although they continued to miss the means, the perpetrator and its impetus. Harrumphing quietly with the fragmentary information at their disposal, her aureate eyes scanned the interiors of the cart a second time. Pieces of the puzzle were evidently missing, hence there was a possibility for them to be hidden here. In the end, after a few moments of search, she let out an audible noise of curiosity. "Oh...?"
Engulfing the object of interest in a faint, iridescent veil, she lifted it off the ground using the power of her will. Hovering in midair for everyone to see clearly, it was easy to conclude that this shiver belonged to the destroyed device. "A code - tainted with residues of data and... blood? Huh... was an entity from Earth responsible for this?" She voiced her thoughts audibly, not recalling a single digimon who actually possessed life force in a crimson, liquid form like the biological creatures from the Parallel Universe. "Does you crew by chance have a portable analyzer with them, Angel?" She asked kindly, yet with the clear desire to learn more of this intriguing and dire mystery.
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Post by Metal Drive on Dec 9, 2019 1:54:54 GMT
There was a definite mystery about this. Data and blood stained the edge of the key, but the 'molten' key itself, wedged into the control panel, added onto this mystery. It seemed that a simple cursory glance wasn't going to solve this riddle, and as Cion asked for something that could provide more detail, the Renamon scratched the back of her head.
"I don't know about 'portable', but we should have something to do the trick. You're going to want to stand a few feet back, though." The Renamon sighed, closing her eyes as she arched her back. A single ball of light slipped away, the rookie-level, yellow Renamon leaning back against the control panel.
The 'chimera', as it was, arched its back upwards. Its size grew to that of the Devidramon, in the same shape that Cion saw when she first arrived on the scene, the demon's metallic visor quickly springing to life as he stared down at the small piece of scrap metal.
"Data... one Digimon. Virus type. Blood... human?" The Devidramon seemed a little uncertain of that. The visor itself spoke up for the next part:
"The curvature of the piece suggests it was bent while being turned counter-clockwise... hm. Come to think of it, aren't these ignition pieces usually activated turning it the other way?"
"I... guess?" The Renamon questioned. "Turn to the right, you mean? I think that's how it worked with the Blimpmon-"
" - So if they were trying to snap the key into place, why would they turn it backwards?" The mask buzzed again. "And this part's probably more obvious, but the key is far newer than what a normal Trailmon key should be, maybe a few weeks old. The serial number... honestly, I don't have a lot of knowledge on these sorts of keys, but I'm fairly sure that's just a registry number. Looks fairly standard."
"Tch... was it a fake that was made to sneak it in, or did someone replace it for the normal conductor to put it in themselves?"
"I'm... not sure if we have all the pieces here to answer that, Angel."
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Post by Cion on Dec 12, 2019 16:40:04 GMT
Quietly allowing her temporary ally to perform the deed she sought to execute, it was with folded arms that Cion glanced around within the broken wagon a final time. Alas, it appeared as if everything of note had already been spotted, and the information that was gathered from analyzing the shattered items left them none the wiser. It truly seemed as if they had hit an impasse, at least when it came to the engine itself. Scratching her chin, a bizarre idea manifested itself in her mind which evidently took a couple of intense seconds of silence to form itself fully.
Turning to the chimeric partner of Denryu, the silver fennec exhaled audibly and shrugged calmly. "Is there a way to access the GranLocomon's memory banks? If not, how should we handle this poor thing?" She asked kindly yet firmly, wishing to deal with the matter at hand as quickly and cleanly as possible. If there remained nothing to be discovered then they had to prevent more people to be hurt. And if it was impossible to cure the frenzied machine... then a purge was the only option. It was a bitter reality, but one the ancient sentinel was uncannily acquainted with.
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Post by Metal Drive on Dec 14, 2019 18:46:53 GMT
Unfortunately, it seemed like they were going to reach a point where nothing else could be found. Though it would have been nice to get an answer, it was probably too risky to leave this Locomon to his own devices to haul in anything that could hack the panel.
As Cion asked that last question, the Devidramon gave a guttural growl. "Well, Volt?"
"Right, right..." The Devidramon neared the panel itself, the visor scanning the display. It was, as expected, locked up - but that wasn't what the demon was looking at in particular. "I don't think we can access the Locomon's memory, but if we're talking about the control dashboard's computer, that's a different story. Mm... try... yeah, right in front of your right foot."
The demon nodded, knelt down - and slammed his claw forward, wrenching away the outer panel of the 'desk' beneath the control panel. It didn't take long for the Devidramon to pull out some sort of box, and as the cords were plucked out, the panel itself would flicker and turn black. But, unfortunately, Cion's own scanning capabilities wouldn't change.
The creature itself remained 'red'. And Angel would sigh, stepping back towards the Devidramon, a quick flash of light given as the chimeric Renamon replaced the larger Digimon's frame, the box held under her arm.
"How else would we handle it? Let's just blast the guy while he's still out of commission." The Renamon groaned, stepping back out of the train, shielding her eyes as she stepped right back out into the rough desert sky. "Let's handle this before someone else comes along and tries to take credit for this. We've dragged our feet long enough as it is."
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Post by Cion on Dec 14, 2019 20:41:10 GMT
To be fair, her suggestion had been a shot in the dark - a leap of logic that was unlikely to be feasible, but still worth considering. After all, it gave Denryu's crew the idea to retrieve the external memory banks of the GranLocomon's secondary hardware. Who knew what kind of noteworthy data could be found in these storage spaces. Alas, whatever the truth was that was needed to be revealed, it did not change that fact that the corruption within the titanic machine had not ceased. Regardless of what the plague was that had befallen it, it was very much a part of it at this point.
Although Cion resented Angel's indifference towards the victim of a fell crime, the chimeric warrior was admittedly not wrong. What else were they supposed to do but to put an end to this once certainly proud soul which had served commonweal a thousand times more than most people. Remembering her own enmity and mercilessness, the silver fennec sighed quietly, shrugged weakly and nodded firmly. "Yeah - let's deliver it." She euphemized the upcoming deed. At least she had the knowledge and certainty that the reborn spirit would have the chance to find peace and happiness in the newly created village of Rosewood.
Joining the Renamon on the outside of the coarse desert, the ancient sentinel stretched herself and cracked her fingers. Turning to face the larger vulpine digimon, her facial expression was that of slight dolefulness. She held great compassion for the synthetic entity, as its rampage was evidently not its fault. Infinitely greater was the burning odium she felt for the perpetrator of this atrocity. Their ordeal by her hands was assured. "Do you have the firepower to finish this? Or shall I?"
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Post by Metal Drive on Dec 19, 2019 0:22:35 GMT
Cion and Angel probably still couldn't see eye to eye about a lot of things, but when it came down to it, both were able to put their differences aside 'for the greater good'. It remained to be seen if Metal Drive's motives were purely driven by profit - and the moral standing was a side effect - or if they had truly come out for the benefit of Rosewood and for the Digital World.
The fox stepped outside, stretching out her back behind Cion, ear flicking at the question. "Mm... we'll split it." The Renamon looked over at the cars scattered across the desert sands. "I'll handle that mess, and make sure all that loaded data gets released. You handle the engine itself." Roughly delegating the word like that, the chimera spread her wings, taking a small glance in Cion's direction.
"... Gotta say, its nice not talking to you through the other end of a rifle's barrel. Honestly surprised you even gave us the time of day, even for somethin' like this." That was about as much a 'thanks' as the fox could muster: she beat her wings, sand flicking out into a cloud as she took to the skies, both hands charged with a familiar sparking, crimson energy. With one flick of her arm, that familiar storm would appear again - a rolling cloud of thunder darkening before her, slowly ambling its way over the several scattered, loose cars. Any time it neared close to one, a bolt would strike out, rending the metal box to burnt scrap and quickly scattered data.
At a distance, Denryu gave a small sigh. "Falcon, how are we doing for time?"
" . . . No foreign radio signals detected, general." The Mailbirdramon's monotonic voice echoed out. "We will have five around five minutes from the time we detect another signal..."
"... Assuming that there isn't another mercenary using an AceJetmon as escort."
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Post by Cion on Dec 20, 2019 21:37:18 GMT
There were uncountable reasons why the two vanguards were incapable of relating to the other, among which evidently was a certain amount of ethical dissent. While it was true that Cion had no qualms about ending the lives of those she judged deserving, it was not selfishness that drove her to do darker deeds. The longing for commonweal and a better, brighter future were what had created her impetus, which in turn guided her actions alongside eons of experience and mostly forgotten history. If she could not sooth her own anguish, then perhaps that of others. At least... these things were a couple of justifications she had often told herself lately.
Nonetheless, the duo had indeed been capable of putting their differences aside to work together for a common goal that benefited not only themselves as the recipients of bounties, but also the people they protected by vanquishing a titanic, mechanical fiend. Corrupted or not, the frenzy had to be stopped. Naturally, it was not difficult for the silver fennec to regard herself as the more complaisant party, given that she occupied the moral high ground, not to mention that her mannerisms were of course impeccable. It was akin to comparing a noble lady to a countrywoman.
However hubris was unbecoming to a socialite, hence she refrained from unnecessarily antagonizing the Renamon. Besides,maybe there truly was a chance for Denryu and his crew to grown a conscience and act on it. It was an unlikely possibility in light of the evils they had committed, but something was still superior to nothing. Folding her arms, the restrained Arniomon nodded in agreement, apparently glad to share the responsibility of the execution they had chosen to perform in due time - a direful necessity.
"Very well." She obliged calmly. Observing Angel spreading her unnatural wings, the words that were directed at her managed to briefly catch her off guard. A kind chuckle escaped the vulpine sentinel's lips in response to the credit received. "If you don't force my hands, we can gladly continue to banter amicably. And... admittedly, I am astonished that your team did not assault me immediately... even though I was likely bothersome to you. I certainly am pleasantly surprised." She acknowledged the temporary willingess to cooperate from her rivals from several years. Understandably she did not rule out the idea of an ambush coming any second. Instant trust was foolish.
And this was the extent to which a 'same to you' was uttered the unassuming ascendant. Left to be by herself, Cion too evacuated the location, mainly to avoid the chimeric warrior's thunderous wrath. Floating in the radiant, blue sky, it was with a snap of her finger that the massive engine of the GranLocomon was enshrouded in a veil of distorted space-time. With gravity and similar forces increasing exponentially, the machinery quickly relinquished. Collapsing in on itself in a cacophony of creaking alloy and excreted oils, the feat was extremely subtle compared to the previous, crimson ray of destruction.
Simple, effective... hopefully painless.
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Post by Metal Drive on Dec 25, 2019 21:15:09 GMT
On one end, a powerful, crimson electric storm wreaking havoc through the cars; on the other, a snap and a sudden singularity crushing the engine in an instant. It didn't take long for crimson data to spew into the air on both ends, enough that Angel raised a hand to shield her eyes as the vast amount of raw energy and power spun its way up through the atmosphere. For a moment, it was dense enough that the two could even see it begin to travel towards the Village of Beginnings, but the energy would fade over the following moments.
Once more, the brutal sun would be beating down on the group, and with a crack of her back, Angel would make her way back to Denryu's position. The fox would land gently on one of the MailBirdramon's wings, and a moment later, a flash of light would surround her, several cores pulled directly into the Xros Loader. The wings, the mask, the metal claws - they would vanish, leaving a simple, normal rookie , bracing one arm against the machine to stabilize herself.
"Good." The General would spare a single word, giving the Renamon a small scratch behind the ear, as Angel gave a nod in response. "That's all well and good, but are you sure we should really have our guard down?" Her eyes peered to the AceJetmon a short distance away. Trust with a condition was fine, but could they afford to keep themselves this 'bare' against Cion?
"I doubt it." The general wasn't shy about being open with his words. "If Cion truly was here to 'smite' us, she wouldn't have even bothered with the negotiations. Though that she did so from the start..."
It suggested that there was something else that had happened to Cion, between the desert incident until now.
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Post by Cion on Jan 5, 2020 21:09:16 GMT
The deed was done. The enslaved soul and those that were consumed by it were finally free. Surging in a vast swirl of thick binary code and radiant colors, the released data eventually vanished from sight to rejoin the current that encompassed the entire digital world. While the victims' previous lives had ended, their reincarnations and upbringings in the Village of Beginnings and Rosewood were most likely going to be wonderful times for the yet to be children. It was this kind of solace that enabled Cion to not completely succumb to her woes. Though dim, there was a faint light at the end of an unending tunnel.
Nonetheless, this was merely another chapter of uncountable others that she had to close. Nodding firmly, her body disappeared and reappeared in a couple of silver flashes, until she came to a sudden stop on top of one of Vertigo's wings. Standing there with her arms folded, violent winds tearing at her green scarf, platinum hair and white pelt, she seemed lost in her thoughts, if only briefly. "I have recorded the whole encounter as proof for your success. Shall we return?" Vertigo spoke up, cheerful as British as ever, in an attempt to cheer the vulpine sentinel up.
Sighing, the unassuming ascendant motioned the sentient aircraft to adjacent to Denryu's airborne partner. In contrast to her almost expressionless face, her aureate eyes appeared to burn with an ardent, excessive zeal that was rarely seen, even in the most perfervid of aspirants. She stared at the boy and the Renamon, remembering perfectly what they had done, and the deserved, just punishment they had probably avoided thus far... ... ... but not like this.
Taking in a deep breath, her eyelids closed for a moment before she nodded yet again. "Well done! Now... if there isn't anything else, shall we head back, claim our bounty and perhaps discuss future collaboration? After all, given what we have discovered Angel, this was likely a mere foretaste of things to come. If nothing else, the perpetrator must be found and stopped... lest others have to pay the price." She stated kindly, yet with her signature poise and diction.
Hopefully, the tentative credit she granted the former assailants was not misplaced.
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