The Battle for Offtopic began, but as the fires of war became lit, the Raiders were imperiled once more. For now they faced the gargantuan vault of the Speaker… Vault B… why had he built such a trove, the Speakers madness seemed only evident with the slowly freewheeling ball of doors, each one a bolted shut barrier, with no lock and no key; impenetrable. The Raiders made their way up on to the causeway aided by the thankful flight abilities of their teammates Acro, Nighthawk, and Wripperoni… They ascended carefully, the hum of the generators a cold comfort as silence would be maddening. They approached the severe and finely sculpted marble console and saw the controls. “Now what do we do…?” Ronin spoke. Acroanthus approached the console. The rest observed in silence as he fiddled with the holographic controls. Bopsheezi had told them everything but the encounter with the lady; he shifted uncomfortably. They had all been happy with his return to this plane; but- with the exception of LJshafer and Otter- he was their only window into the Deep. He had described the horrid feeling of the being within him in detail, but even with it gone; he still felt the void that it left. They now regarded him with caution. They seemed happy he had been freed, but a careful suspicion was palpable. He would never be regarded the same; something within him had changed; a key feature of his vivacity had been altered forever. Perhaps this was the unease they sensed from him; Bopsheezi had embraced the nightmare of the deep… An existence of self-deprecation; of insane acceptance of all things. This was his burden, now; to realize his acceptance of the null was all too easy; the choice of release over understanding, was a gap in his mind. He now saw clearly: The deep was not one side or the other… The brotherhood; the void; the Senate; the “Gamers”; the underworld; the Antares’s; the Outer animals; the Densities… the trolls… They were all an interconnected web of relationships- insignificant and bare; without restriction; without regulation. A Free World. Something frightened him about this concept. Free… without guidance. He felt a strange longing… as if a question had been politely asked; and no answer had yet been given. Acro was stumped. The endless list of vaults seemed to scroll on forever, some had strange cryptic common names; like ”A light in the darkness” and “precious enamoration” what was this all about?? The Speaker had built this place with purpose; even before he had embraced the deep… Acro shuddered at the thought… How? He barely understood what the deep was, let alone- what it represented; what it wanted; why it wanted… A physical being requires food; but even a physical being becomes full. At least that’s what Acrocanthus had surmised. Why did he feel like a predator was resting its head on his shoulder? Why did he feel eyes on his back even when nothing was there? Something in this reality was ever present; or someone. “Acro.” Ronin touched his shoulder, and bounced him out of his stupor. “I don’t know what to make of it guys… It’s a very, very, very, very, very long list; I’m not even an eight of the way through it…” Wripperoni crossed his Northstar’s arms. Warlock had become distant. Ronin sighed in exhaustion. Nighthawk had been patietly chewing on his cigar; the suspense was killing him. He had full faith in his odd comrades. Good guys always came out on top somehow; it was only through pure will- had scumbags like him somehow made it. He grinned. ‘These boys will get it… I’m not giving up while their still suckin O2.’ He was true. Virus had disappeared. When he was struck he had burst into a billion pieces of nanotechnology. The rest knew he was unsteady ally, and his disappearance had not surprised them in the least. Never once; had he done anything but save his own skin. They knew he was a machine, but they had never suspected his interest in the Deep. What if he had chosen to betray them? Acro scrolled to the bottom of the list over an hour, when he finally came to two final entries; Omega Security holding Roses of white “If I had to pick one…” he tapped the second to last entry. The deep hum of the anti grav generators seemed to change pitch in musical intervals as the great vault changed the direction of its slow rotation. [spoiler]Did I already upload this?[/spoiler]
Edited by SpookyFlare21: 7/13/2019 12:29:34 PMThis is really interesting man, bumpo! Also, I apologize for being so inactive in the raids as of late.