Show Posts

This section allows you to view all posts made by this member. Note that you can only see posts made in areas you currently have access to.


Topics - Nerroth

Pages: 1 2 [3]
31
Fanfiction / Type-Moon Fiction Tracker
« on: August 13, 2013, 05:31:36 PM »
As seen on other sites, it seems logical to have a fiction tracker here for people to list links to their various fiction works.

This thread is, as the name suggests, intended for those fanfic works related in some way to Type-Moon properties.

Please post all of your links and writeups in a single post. If you add new fics to this sub-forum, edit your original post rather than add a new one. The goal is to try and keep things relatively tidy for newcomers to navigate around, not to use this thread to make "news" by adding new posts for each new individual fic.

For my own part, I will post my own links in a separate post below, in order to keep this one for guidelines and such only.

(If any passing mods are in a mood to sticky this topic, well and good...Thread stickied, thank you kindly.)

32
Fanfiction / Drift Extra (pic-heavy)
« on: August 13, 2013, 03:29:24 AM »
Another one posted back on the pre-2011 Beast's lair, which was re-posted on the new one.
 
 
 This one is (or rather, was)... kind of an experiment. It originally came from an idea I had for a photoshoot, that I'd try and do once I got myself a Generations Drift.
 
 By the time he arrived, it turned out I had other figures on hand (as in, not lost in storage somewhere) and the idea kind of went a little... further than I had mind.
 
 
 So, here goes. (Please note: this is intended to be... somewhat less than serious.)
 
 
 ------
 
 
 
 The white-armoured figure (his back to the floating camera nearby) took a silent breath, trying not to think of his lines as he sought a moment of inner calm. While he had spent many months since purchasing the game in question for his PSP attempting to master the dialogue, and the movement to match, he knew he still had far to go.
 
 In any event, it was time to see whether or not he could do more then roll the lines off from a pre-prepared script in his mind. It was time to let them flow... through the moment of import itself.
 
 In one carefully-prepared motion, he reached for the hilt of his longsword:

 
 
 
 then swiftly turned while drawing it to one side.
 
 
 
 Once done, he paused for (intended) dramatic effect, then lifted the longsword before him as he began his chant:
 
 
 
 “Ware wa Kuu.” (I am the white void.)
 
 “Ware wa Kou.” (I am the cold steel.)
 
 “Ware wa Jin!” (I am the just sword!)
 
 “Ware wa, hitofuri no tsurugi ni te, subete no tsumi wo karitori, aku wo metsu suru." (With blade in hand shall I reap the sins of this world and cleanse it in the fires of destruction.)
 
 At this point, he changed into a more flexible stance, then held the longsword in both hands at the chant's completion.
 
 
 
 “Waga na wa Hakumen. Oshite mairu!
 
 (I am Hakumen. The end has come!)
 
 It was not until he had moved on to a later practice move (Hakumen's first-round victory pose) before an incredibly beautiful young woman with an... unusual choice in weaponry (and outfit design) approached him.
 
 
 
 "One is quite impressed; but let us see if the wheel of Fate is turning for you!"
 
 Focusing on the arrival as an opponent, rather than a person, the Hakumen aficionado prepared to exchange a mutually fierce array of blows:

 
 
 
 Yet, in the midst of this action, he paused when, as if seeing through the lens of the floating camera nearby, he noticed her breathtaking face, and eyes, for the first time.
 
 
 
 Unable to find words to express such beauty, he lowered his sword in silence.
 
 "A shame," she said, coyly. "One would have enjoyed singing this song of battle together. Well, at least one cannot complain about your reaction; in your place, one might have done the same..."
 
 While he struggled to conjure an answer, she pre-empted him with another teasing remark. "Perhaps you can at least pose with me before the camera?"
 
 
 
 That, at least, he could do.
 
 "Well then," she went on, "if you wish to please me further, present yourself in a more fashionable manner."
 
 Without a concrete notion as to what constituted proper fashion in the mind's eye of the mysterious, yet imperious, lady, the white-armoured one did his best to comply.
 
 
 
 Remaining off-camera for the time being, the woman referred to his yet-to-be-drawn short swords; one of which lay in the same door-scabbard in which he had conveniently stored his longsword. "Now, please demonstrate your other weapons, if you please."
 
 Unable to bring himself to do anything but obey, he... obeyed.

 
 
 
 "Hmm," she thought aloud. "Useful in their own way, but with far less character," or characters, even; "than the third."
 
 Taking note of his wheel-shaped forearm-mounted buckers, she was led to wonder:
"One is curious; to what end do the wheels upon thine arms serve?"
 
 Once again, he found it better to respond through deeds, in place of words:
 
 
 
 "A new chariot!" she exclaimed. Before he could query as to what she meant with the 'new' part, the driving force behind her voice re-ignited. "Turn! Show me more!"
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 After his third pose, she noted a strange item beneath him, yet somehow attached to him. "Be that the hilt of thine sword?"
 
 Somehow managing to both turn perpendicular to the camera and to launch himself to one side, he showed how he was, indeed, able to store his longsword beneath his car mode; though what the road and safety association might think of such a setup would be another matter.

 
 
 
 "Oh yes; much more distinct than my last chariot," she offered. "The difference is quite clear, in one's mind."
 
 It was not until he had righted himself on all four wheels before he noted exactly why she could see it so clearly; a red-and-blue armoured vehicle was somehow parked to one side of him!
 
 
 
 "Hey," the red vehicle offered, to which the white car remained silent.
 
 "Not the big talker, eh? Well, it's probably just as well," the former chariot quipped. "She does like to be the one to do the talking..."
 
 As a means of clarification, images from the red-and-blue one's time as her chariot appeared; offering a less-than-welcome (to the white car) insight.
 
 "So," the red-and-blue one asked, as he transformed and sat (reasonably) comfortably, "maybe we could have a sit-down, get to catch up, and all that?"
 
 Not immediately dismissing the idea (for what reason, the white car was uncertain), the woman rested herself...
 
 ...though after transformation, the white-armoured one's attempts to follow suit were less than successful.

 
 
 
 "Not working out for you, then?" the third one noted; his outwardly well-meaning tone of voice betraying hints of his less than fair intention. "Maybe you should try a different way to rest yourself?"
 
 Unfortunately, that didn't seem to go well either.

 
 
 
 "Yeah, I suppose we should hold off on the sitting down thing for now," the red-and-blue one 'kindly' suggested.
 
 After they stood up again, the newcomer gestured towards the closest door-scabbard. "Hey, could I, like have a look at those two smaller swords of yours?"
 
 
 
 "I mean, I would ask," he added, "but I get the feeling you're the kind of guy who has a bit of... attachment to that third one."
 
 Despite his better judgement (which told him to stick all three into the interloper until he stopped functioning) the two short swords found themselves in the blue-and-red one's hands.

 
 
 
 "Ha, just like Archer!" the face-plated one declared; though of course the swords which the character in question is known for look quite different.
 
 The woman, somehow now standing between the two others, raised her hand in salutation. "One is amused!"
 
 Meanwhile, the faintest trace of a grumble passed the lips of the white samurai, who tried to concentrate by reading the kanji on his sword; a task which might one day be made easier if he were to ever benefit from the use of a Gundam Marker.
 
 As the red-and-blue one continued his showing-off routine, however, the pressure became too much to bear.

 
 
 
 "Wait!" she called out to the departing one. "You do not need to leave."
 
 "The end..." he said bitterly, in an ironic echo if his hero's famous battle-cry, "...has come!"
 
 "Yeah, you've clearly got prospects with that one," jumped the third, gleeful at his apparent victory.
 
 Ignoring him, the woman raced to follow her new person of interest; eventually cornering him at a location which looked oddly similar to where they had just been.

 
 Approaching him, after conveniently handing him back the swords she had evidently retrieved from the face-plated one off-camera, she reached over to cradle the side of his face with her outstretched hand:

 
 
 
 "That last occurrence was... not planned for," she admitted; the first time her voice had shown any sign of apology, or humility perhaps. "As thee can see, one cannot always account equitably concerning one's past."
 
 As he looked up to meet her gaze, her voice took a more assuring turn. "Yet, one would hope thine efforts would not be in vain; lest one lose an avenue towards a more promising future."
 
 Buoyed by her words, the white one simply said: "Hai."
 
 
 Soon after, the white samurai amply demonstrated the folly of taking a gun to a sword fight, especially one which is all too easily non-secured from its folded-in storage mode:
 
 
 
 
 Before he and she rode off into the sunset; her choice of attire having the convenient side-effect of not blocking his line of sight while driving.
 
 
 
 "Onwards!" she called out; glad that at least, she had a transforming, (occasionally) talking chariot who, unlike previous suitors...
 
 ...actually had swords.

 
 
 
 
 END.

33
Fanfiction / Fate/Trans Form
« on: August 13, 2013, 02:07:51 AM »
As with others, this one was posted back on the original (pre-2011) Beast's Lair, was re-posted there (and now re-posted here) for retentivenesscompleteness' sake.
 
 This was intended as a cross between a variant of G1 and the anime version of Fate/Stay Night. This is what happens when you watch the end of the 1986 TF movie too many times!

Please note that is is the oldest Type-Moon-related story I ever write, and is not meant to be judged quite as seriously setting-wise compared to, say, Crystallized Moments. but then, it is a crossover, so.
 
 
 
 -------------
 
 
 Note that this story follows the F/SN story as outlined in the anime (which I am treating as a separate continuity to that seen elsewhere), and branches out from there near the series' end. Well, and before, if you want to get pedantic...
 
 
 Fate/Trans Form  - Prologue
 
 
 --------------------------------------------------
 
 
 At the edge of the Clavius crater on the lunar surface, a being emerged from a trans-dimensional portal, before stepping silently upon the dull grey landscape.
 
 The being, which had no need for such concerns as a regular oxygen supply, shielding from solar radiation, or the kind of modulated temperature ranges found on the world around which Luna orbits, had other matters to attend to.
 
 It looked to the threads dangling from its clenched left fist, which were attached to what had once been the right forearm of the last security agent who had attempted to stop it on its path through the complex at Axiom Nexus.
 
 That city - a creation of the so-called 'transcendant technomorphs' who evolved on that timeline's Cybertron - served as a waypoint for dimension-crossing beings seeking adventure, temporary refuge, or permanent asylum from their indigenous realities. Typically, it tried to limit the arrival of especially powerful individuals, such as the Primes or Megatrons of certain timelines, as well as the use of powerful items such as the Matrix (of whichever type) within its confines.
 
 They had not expected to encounter a being quite like this one, however.
 
 Such insufferable creatures, it thought to itself, as it lifted the arm upwards, noting the irreparable damage done to the slider-device which had once belonged to the arm's original owner. It had been careful to scramble the data from the jump, so as to prevent the other TransTechs from determining which 'universal stream' he had jumped to. Their precious egos might seek retribution - but even I cannot risk drawing their full ire.
 
 Nevertheless, the fact remained that the being knew nothing of the reality it had become a party to - which made the presence of the other item attached to the severed forearm quite useful indeed.
 
 Wrenching the data pad from its socket, and dumping the now-worthless arm to one side, it activated the device, overriding the security lockouts, while activating its quantum resonance scanner. Once done, the pad's intricate sensor system would determine which quantum reality they were currently located in, whether it was one hitherto recorded in the database - and bring up the data entries, if any, recorded in Axiom Nexus' records.
 
 After a few minutes, a match was found.
 
 
 --------------------------------------------------
 
 
 Universal Stream designation (provisional, pending further review): Primax 307.23 Iota
 
 Continuity family: Primax (outlier*)
 
 Status: Ongoing
 
 Level of research: Preliminary (pending the results of further investigation)
 
 Summary: This timeline, one of a relatively narrow band within its own reality cluster, exhibits certain common features of the wider Primax continuity family, but also evidences significant differences to almost all other recorded universal streams. Most notably, these differences are noted in the Sol system, yet it is unknown at present whether this extends to other commonly-known regions of the galaxy. Said differences implicate that this universal stream represents a 'hybrid', or outlier, which merges known traits with those of an as-yet-inaccessible continuity family.
 
 Initial Report (By Minister Rhinox, Department of Higher Dimensional Sciences, Axiom Nexus):
 
 So far as we can guess, there are upwards of fourteen quadrillion concurrent universes - each identifiable by a unique quantum signature, each unique in its own way to every other universal stream currently in existence.
 
 Of these, despite the sense of accomplishment that many of our kind might feel, it is worth remembering that a mere 15,962,782 or so of these have been even provisionally catalogued through our efforts - and that of those, 1,176,325 have, one way or another, come to termination. A most troubling ratio.
 
 And even then, while most of these universal streams are somewhat familiar to us, in terms of certain multiversal aspects we have managed to ascertain, it is not always so straightforward a matter as we would like to believe.
 
 This stream, one of several others in its reality cluster, is a case in point.
 
 
 From a Cybertronian perspective, many elements are familiar. There is a Prime who possesses a Matrix of Leadership, a division between Autobots and Decepticons, a range of alien worlds which have seen bouts of Cybertronic activity (such as Earth and Nebulos, to name but two) and the confirmed presence of Unicron.
 
 To summarize, the current Earth year is 2007. The Great War between Autobots and Decepticons has ended, due to the catastrophic impact of an assault by Unicron on Cybertron itself two years previously.
 
 The Decepticon faction, which had control of the home world at this time, and thus bore the brunt of the Entropic attack, was shattered and broken. Its leader lost, its ability to maintain its holdings fatally compromised, the surviving remnants have been scattered across the extent of what had once been a quadrant-spanning Empire. On worlds where they had neither revealed themselves to the indigenes (like Earth) nor were unable to successfully prosecute their aims of conquest (like Nebulos) the survivors have been driven to exile or seclusion. What will take root in the considerable power vacuum left by the collapse remains to be seen.
 
 Meanwhile, the victorious Autobots, now led by Rodimus Prime, have established a provisional civilian authority in the ruins of New Iacon City, while seeking to fortify their clandestine holdings on Earth and other worlds. However, despite their triumph, they are in no position to assert themselves on anything more than a regional stage. The damage caused by Unicron's assault had only exacerbated the serious decay and ruin which most of the home world had fallen into (outside of certain isolated city-states - many of whom did not survive the assault) and it will take centuries, if not millennia, for Cybertron to even begin to recover.
 
 Plus, the substantial exile communities which have left Cybertron to find shelter on other worlds have developed significant cultural and political divergences from those still present. Balancing the needs of these off-world communities, and the alliances with various alien species which they have become a party to, will be a taxing matter indeed.
 
 
 All well and good, one might assume - until one examines the data coming from the Sol system.
 
 It seems that, beyond the kind of life forms and biological systems found on other Earths, this planet is host to a number of unusual creatures, powers and forces, that are unlike anything found outside of this reality cluster.
 
 Further, it seems that there are certain, for want of a better term, metaphysical entities and concepts which are tied to the presence of life on Earth.
 
 Or, to put it another way, there are elements of 'magic' and 'sorcery', ethereal beings with a myriad of powers and intentions, as well as humans with the ability to tap into the mystic.
 
 And yet, thus far, the level of interaction between the known Cybertronic presence on Earth and these super-natural elements is less than prominent up to this point. Perhaps the secrecy which both groups exhibit, and the different focus that each has (more aware of others within their 'field' than each other) has caused this.
 
 There are certain worrisome anomalies which may change this dynamic - specifically at the following set of coordinates - though there is only so much I can determine at this point.
 
 
 It seems that in all, this reality cluster constitutes an overlapping of the furthermost edges of two continuity families - and that the interaction has altered and modified certain elements from each family into a distinct hybrid.
 
 However, we cannot plumb the depths of this currently-unidentifiable continuity family, as for some reason, while we can interact with the hybrid streams, our efforts can go no further. (There is a range of quantum realities which may, or may not, belong to this wider family, but which do not respond when we attempt to access them - as if some unknown element at work within that stream prevents us from even opening a passive portal.)
 
 While I would be fascinated by the prospect of further research into this stream - not least in order to more thoroughly examine the elements which, apparently, come out from the deeper set of realities like waves lapping onto a Terran shore from the deep ocean - even my time is limited, and there are millions of streams left to catalogue.
 
 
 Perhaps, one day, I will get the chance to revisit this stream... and explore a world where, for once, we don't have a ready-made list of answers.
 
 
 Note: *Due to complex interaction with elements from a hitherto-unknown (and mostly inaccessible) continuity family.
 
 
 --------------------------------------------------
 
 
 The being found the concept of even a vaunted TransTech scientist to admit his lack of expertise in this reality to be amusing - but that also meant that it itself would need to understand such intricacies for it to navigate a viable path of its own.
 
 Fortunately, it thought to itself, I have not arrived entirely unprepared.
 
 It opened secure bays within the twin modules upon its back, then launched a series of miniature probes into the void between the Moon and the Earth. The probes set themselves on a route which would allow them to take up a geosynchronous orbit of the planet, allowing it to use them as covert surveillance devices.
 
 It made a point of having the probes concentrate their scans on the co-ordinates which so worried the report's author - and as it stood on the harsh, unforgiving lunar surface, staring coldly at the blue orb beyond, the data appearing behind its eyelids gave the being a somewhat unusual view of what was to be the Fifth Fuyuki Grail War.
 
 
 --------------------------------------------------
 
 
 BGM: Kenji Kawai - Contract
 
 
 It was a War between Magi - for a prize unlike any other.
 
 Seven Masters had been summoned, each calling forth a Servant, a powerful spirit-being drawn from the most famous Heroes (and villains) known to history, each set into several categories (Saber, Lancer, Archer - the three 'knight classes' - and other possible categories, in this case Caster, Assassin, Berserker and Rider) and bound to their Masters through the use of three inviolable Command Seals.
 
 Overseen by an agent of the Burial Agency - a secret body of the Vatican tasked with all matters supernatural - who was (intended to be) a neutral adjudicator of the conflict, the Masters each sought to eliminate both their rivals, and the other Masters' Servants, on the path to victory.
 
 The prize? An object known to most involved only as the Holy Grail, which was said to grant any wish its bearer chose to grant.
 
 Four other Wars had taken place, each six decades apart, in the same Japanese city of Fuyuki-shi - though none of them had resulted in a 'true' manifestation of this long-sought object.
 
 Yet, for some reason, the Fifth, and latest, was taking place five decades early. The generational gap which allowed for contestants to plan for the upcoming War was curtailed, and perhaps the most unusual series of Masters were called forth in this conflict.
 
 The head of one of the three families which had contested the Wars since the beginning, Tohsaka Rin, was a case in point. Unlike her father Tokiomi, who had fought and died in the Fourth War ten years previously, she was still at a relatively young age (still 17 years' old) when the current War broke out. Her Servant was an Archer-class, an enigmatic man who never revealed his identity openly, but left many unanswered questions in his wake.
 
 Another representative of the three founding families, Illyasviel von Einzbern, was sent from Europe as the Master of the ferocious Berserker - revealed to be none other than the legendary Heracles, though whose intellect was chained by the Mad Enhancement placed upon it. Altered by the Einzbern before birth, and bitter at the loss of her parents, she came to the War with an agenda of her own...
 
 The third family, the Matou (or Makiri), was an unusual case. Their Master, Shinji, had no sorcerous ability to speak of, yet somehow managed to command Rider - revealed to be the Gorgon Medusa, albeit appearing in her more human form - in battle. What, if any, role his graceful younger sister, Matou Sakura, or the reclusive patriarch Matou Zouken, played in this was unknown to others... as were the terrible secrets which lay hidden within the Makiri household.
 
 Other Masters and Servants emerged, and would play their parts in the War - but one man and his noble Servant would be at the very crux of events.
 
 Adopted by a magus called Emiya Kiritsugu ten years previously, Emiya Shirou had been the sole survivor of an horrific fire which had destroyed an entire section of the city. Inspired by the example of his adopted father, Shirou strove to emulate Kiritsugu's old dream of being a
Seigi no Mikata; a Hero of Justice.
 
 In the last five years after Kiritsugu's own death, Shirou has been watched over by the headstrong Fujimura Taiga, and found that he had a minor gift of his own - albeit one he misunderstood, and had not been told about by Kiritsugu (who had not passed on his secrets of magecraft to his adopted son, perhaps wishing to spare him the tragic fate he himself had suffered).
 
 
 However, when the War came, Shirou found himself on the front lines. Moreover, he became the unwitting Master of Saber... a woman who captivated him from the instant she appeared before him, and who would change his live forever.
 
 The full list of events which have taken place in the War would take up an entire volume to detail - but at the final, climactic stage, Shirou and Saber (who by now have each developed strong feelings for one another) are among the last remaining contestants... and have learned that the Grail is a poisoned chalice, corrupted over the last several decades into an engine of death and chaos.
 
 The final conflict sees Kotomine Kirei - a man who had faced none other than Kiritsugu in the War ten years ago, and who had recently stabbed Rin and kidnapped Ilya for use as a catalyst for calling forth the Grail itself - and his ally Gilgamesh (the Archer-class Servant from the previous War, who had been granted a new form by the taint within the corrupted Grail, and now seeks to claim the world, and Saber, as his own) clash with Shirou and Saber at the Ryuudoji Temple, atop Mount Enzou, the epicentre of the cursed Grail system.
 
 Saber's attempts to defeat Gilgamesh are resulting in stalemate - the foe's range of Noble Phantasms (powerful weapons which are typically a signature of their bearer, but of which Gilgamesh has dozens available to use) are parrying her efforts, while his most lethal Noble Phantasm, Ea, is too much for her own blade to overcome by itself.
 
 Meanwhile, Shirou attempts to close the range on Kirei, and repay the damage done to Rin by striking him with her Azoth dagger - but Kirei's affinity with the tainted Grail's corruption allows him to use the black ichor seeping from it as a weapon.
 
 
 The last thing Shirou sees before the Darkness envelops him is the self-satisfied smirk on Kotomine's face, as the dark sphere which had been in Kirei's hand flies forth and envelops Shirou completely...
 

 
 --------------
 
 
 (EDIT: I've gone through the first 6 parts - and the side stories - one at a time, to fix some formatting issues. With luck, they are a bit more like the later chapters in terms of how well it reads... and thanks again to Elf from Beast's Lair for helping me get the hang of things in that regard.)
 
 
 Fate/ Trans Form - Part 1
 
 
 --------------
 
 
 BGM: Kenji Kawai - Darkness Squirms
 
 
 Darkness.
 
 Infinite darkness, hatred, and pain. The horrific chant of a vengeful god.
 
 The dark ichor that had surrounded Emiya Shirou had formed into a sphere, surrounding the unfortunate Master from reality, caught between the cries of death from a hundred million cursed souls. He could feel his strength and resolve fading rapidly, overwhelmed by the force of the darkness surrounding him.
 
 "Die! Die! Die! Die! Die!..." They called, over and over and over again.
 
 No! I can't let it end this way! he thought desperately to himself. I must resist, I must... for the world's sake, for Ilya's sake... for Saber, my love. I must focus... on an end to darkness... on a beacon of light... which will break this curse forever!
 
 Slowly, painfully, in what seemed to take a dozen lifetimes' worth, Shirou lifted his arms away from the writhing mass of limbs and gore, trying to form a circle between his hands.
 
 Once he was ready, he called out: "Trace - on!"
 
 He forced his mind to set aside the intense noise surrounding him, and coaxed a new image into life. Slowly at first, but gradually accelerating as he progressed, the object formed - a vessel designed to channel the awesome power of a Lord of Light, to provide a connection between the mundane and the phenomenal, to bring life where once lay death.
 
 And as the chamber formed, a new link began to form - a wafer-thin filament reaching from some distant source, taking shape and form within the still-forming object. And as the new energy was amplified and magnified by the astounding intricacy of the chamber's inner surface, Shirou could sense its power washing his fears and doubts away.
 
 And in a moment of absolute clarity, the hand of destiny graced Shirou's presence.
 
 It was time.
 
 
 --------------
 
 
 BGM: UVERworld  - Halcyon
 
 
 Kotomine Kirei summoned a lopsided grin at the sight of the dark sphere before him, trapping the hapless whelp who had dared challenge his plans for the Grail.
 
 He had waited for this moment for over a decade - the chance to summon the cursed artifact from its resting place, to draw upon its power to darken the skies of Earth forever.
 
 "Emiya Shirou!" he taunted, "I hope you can hear me in there! I want you to know that soon you'll be gone, and your Servant too, and all that you have ever cared for! So much for a seigi no mikata..."
 
 And at that moment, the first crack appeared in the sphere, and a thin ray of light streaked out from within. And then another. And another....
 
 ...until it shattered into oblivion, revealing Emiya Shirou holding an unusual object, flowing with light, washing over his body, turning it into something... more.
 
 A voice boomed out from the heavens: "Arise!"
 
 In a few moments, the human Master had been replaced with a giant metal being, clad in red and gold, with streaks of flame upon its chest, surrounding an august emblem which Kirei did not recognise.
 
 "No!" Kirei insisted, as he threw a series of ichor spheres at what Shirou had become, but the spheres bounced harmlessly off his armoured chassis. The metal warrior held onto the object with one hand, using the other to reach for his opponent, as he affirmed that "This is the end of the road, Kotomine!"
 
 The hand clenched, and the warrior swung his left arm, landing the hit squarely upon Kirei's chest. The sheer force of the swing crushed Kirei's ribs, and lifted him high into the air... into the maw of the portal opened for the Grail. As his body impacted with the portal, it disintegrated, vanishing from this plane of existence. Kotomine Kirei's soul would spend an eternity with the corrupted being whom he had sought to bring fourth.
 
 But the War was not yet over.
 
 The warrior placed his fingers through the grooves in the object's handles, lifted it towards the sky, and pulled the two halves of the casing apart, chanting "Now, light our darkest hour!"
 
 With this, the orb of energy within the Matrix exploded, and the darkness was covered with light.
 
 Above, Ilya's body had been trapped by the dark ichor - but a wave of blazing energy passed over her, and the dark substance was gone. Freed from the sacrificial altar, her body began to fall...
 
 ...but she was in no danger.
 
 
 --------------
 
 
 Saber tried to lift herself from the ground, her limbs weakened, her armour crumpled, the force of her impact carving a gash through the ground as Gilgamesh's attack broke through her defences. The pain was almost unbearable - she was not sure how much more she could handle in the face of the twisted old King's onslaught.
 
 Gilgamesh stood there, charging his blade, preparing for a final, fatal strike. He had had enough of Athuria, and was prepared to destroy her utterly.
 
 So, he charged his fearsome weapon, Ea, chanting "Enuma Eli..." before being disrupted by a mind-numbing wave of pain.
 
 "Aaaaaahhhhhh!" he cried out, as in the midst of the warrior's attack, a wave of light had engulfed him, the power of the Matrix reaching out and washing over his body.
 
 Saber could feel it as well, the awesome life force sweeping across the Ryūdōji temple and the surrounding landscape. But she did not feel any pain, quite the contrary - the force repaired her armour and healed her wounds, and steeled her blade.
 
 At a stroke she sprinted over to Gilgamesh, plunging her blade through the old King's chest. As she retracted Excalibur after the strike, beams of light emerged from both the entry and exit points on his armour, and scores of smaller breaks in his skin and on his armour also appeared.
 
 She turned her head to look towards the temple, to the source of the new light, and saw a giant metal knight striding towards her, carrying Ilya in her arms, her body wrapped in a large blanket. An unusual glow within its - his - chest. For a moment, she was taken aback, but only for a moment - her mental link to Shirou told her exactly who this unusual giant was.
 
 He came to a stop beside her, and placed Ilya's body in her arms, as she asked "Shiro! What's happening?"
 
 "Saber, I'll explain in a moment! For now, let's roll out!" was the reply, as to her shock, the metal warrior pulled in his arms and legs, and began to change its form entirely! Within moments, he had become an armoured vehicle, which opened its forward canopy to let Saber in.
 
 Saber sat in the driver's seat, and placed Ilya's body on the passenger seat beside her. The vehicle's seat belts immediately formed themselves around the two, and it roared into action, driving down the side of the mountain.
 
 
 --------------
 
 
 Gilgamesh forced himself to turn to the collapsing gateway which had once loomed menacingly over the Ryūdōji temple. It wouldn't be long now - the entire mountain top would soon be gone, taking his twisted dreams of conquest and death with it.
 
 He could feel the light burning away his own flesh, tearing him apart from the inside out, as if all of the suffering he had inflicted on others throughout his existence had been repaid a hundredfold in mere moments.
 
 He knew the end would soon come, but he would remain defiant to the end. He summoned the last of his strength to cry out to the universe around him:
 
 "Destiny..." he mused, unwittingly echoing the last words of another now-fallen foe, "you cannot... destroy... my... destiny!"
 
 An instant later, his body was torn apart, and the mountaintop vanished in an immense final burst of light. His head was severed from his body, launched into the night sky, dissolving into nothingness.
 
 And a few moments later, it too was gone.
 The War was finally over.
 
 
 --------------
 
 
 BGM: Kenji Kawai - The Bond
 
 
 Shirou and Saber stood together at the top of a nearby hill, watching the light of the dawn slowly emerge. The Matrix was gone, and Shirou had 'reverted' to his human form. Ilya was lying on the ground nearby, fast asleep - with luck, all she would remember was having a bad dream.
 
 They both knew that the end had come, that the Grail was finally destroyed - that Saber's time with him was  about to end.
 
 They each tried to say something meaningful to each other, to try and put a form and structure to the sorrow they both felt. That they both knew how the other felt, and were all the more stricken for it.
 
 They both reached out for each other's hand, holding it tightly, trying to burn the image of this moment into their minds. The feel of the wind on their skin. The warmth of their hands holding. The tears barely held back in the corners of their eyes.
 
 Why could this moment not last for an eternity?
 
 At length, it was Saber who spoke. "Shirou..."
 
 He could almost not bear to hear it. "...I love you."
 
 The dawn broke, and Shirou had to cover his eyes for a moment with his right hand. And when he put it down again, she was gone.
 
 "Yeah... That's really your style... My love," he whispered, wishing against hope that she had heard him, somehow, somewhere.
 
 
 --------------
 
 
 BGM: Steve Jablonsky - Optimus
 
 
 "Your Majesty..." heard Arturia, who opened her eyes, blinking so as not to catch the glare, and saw the familiar face of one of her trusted knights - from her own time.
 
 "Bedivere..." she said, before ordering him to take Excalibur and return it to the lake. While the knight was gone, Arturia thought of the dream she had experienced - no, more than just a dream. A vision. A life?
 
 Was it true? Did she take up her sword against other heroes for the sake of a cursed relic? Did she live for a time in an island country on the far side of the world? Did she witness the power unleashed by an alien god, a patron of giant knights of metal?
 
 Did she really fall in love with Emiya Shirou?
 
 She could barely move - but she was not in pain. She could feel the end drawing near, but she was not afraid. She had no regrets, not anymore.
 
 And there was something unusual about Bedivere's reaction to her story - but she could not understand what it was specifically that seemed troubling.
 
 By the time Bedivere returned, her eyes were closed - and she could barely hear the parting worlds from her trusted knight:
 
 "Your Majesty, dost thou behold the continuation of thine dream?"
 
 And then, nothing.
 
 But then...
 
 
 "Arturia, Saber, do you see me?"
 
 Her eyes opened one more - but she was no longer in the forest with Bedivere. She was floating in a strange world, filled with green and blue and white light, and a myriad of complex patterns flowing across the surface of her body - if this truly was her body.
 
 Before her floated the form of another metal giant, one in red, blue and white, with a faceplate covering his mouth. He spoke once again:
 
 "Arturia, do you see me?" the giant asked.
 
 "Yes," she replied. "Where... where am I?"
 
 He gestured to the strange world surrounding them, replying with "You are within a world beyond your world, beyond good and evil, beyond your wildest imagination. You have earned eternal rest for your efforts - both in your own time, and in those your spark has journeyed to."
 
 "Spark?" she wondered, unfamiliar with the term.
 
 The giant held up a hand in apology. "Oh yes - I'm getting a little ahead of myself. To my kind, a spark is what we would equate to your soul, or spirit, or essence."
 
 She looked at him with a renewed focus - for what it was worth in this strange place. "So it was not a dream?"
 
 "No," he answered, "you sacrificed all that you had for freedom and for justice, without fear. And for that you have earned the right to rest in eternity in Avalon.
 
 But I am here on behalf of one who would offer you a new life. A chance to serve the cause of justice once again. A chance to be with your loved one, and the others you care for, as a new kind of life - a new kind of being.
 
 As a seigi no yuusha."
 
 "I... can go to Shirou?" Images of her times with Shirou passed through her mind - the first time she saw him when she first emerged as his Servant, the present of the lion toy at the store, the look in his eyes as he confessed his fellings for her...
 
 ...And she knew that the new-found choice before her was no choice at all.
 
 
 --------------
 
 
 BGM: Steve Jablonsky - Autobots
 
 
 Shirou was standing on the hill, his mind overflowing with thoughts of Saber, of the times they had shared, and of the moments they would never share again.
 
 It had not yet sunk in just what kind of power he had unleashed at the Temple, of the emblem his power lines had formed into upon his chest in metallic form, of the revelation he had experienced through contact with the power of Primus. Primus... how did he know that name? And who was the red and gold warrior he had turned into? And how did he understand the nature of the symbol? And why had he been chosen - where did he get the idea of forming the Matrix in the first place?
 
 All of these were questions lingering in the corners of his mind, but he was too focussed on Saber's memory to properly register them.
 
 "These memories... they are all I have left, now," he said to himself, before the hand of fate changed his world once more.
 
 The light of the sun flared more brightly, and he once again covered his eyes to protect himself - burned retinas simply wouldn't do, after all. When he looked up he was astonished - a portal was opening above the sun's disk!
 
 An approaching howl could be heard, the sound of a powerful jet engine approaching. It was coming from the portal...
 
 Suddenly, a large, alien fighter craft burst through the portal, shrieking through the skies towards the hilltop. Faster than Shirou could respond, the craft banked up and overshot his position, arcing up into the sky.
 
 It was astonishing - the craft was sleek and aerodynamic, with a set of back-swept wings and an intricate pattern across its surface area. And on the top of the plane looked like... the outline of a sword and scabbard! Shirou knew at once that it was the Excalibur, but what could this mean?
 
 It banked to the side and came in for another pass, slowing rapidly and coming to a near stop just metes from where Shirou was standing. How could a craft move in such a way? It was impossible...
 
 ...But then, Shirou was even more astonished, as the craft began to transform into a giant mechanical being, shaped vaguely like a human. Its armour was silver and blue, the pattern on its chestplate the same as one he knew all too well, and its eyes were jade green.
 
 "Shirou!" it - she! - called out.
 
 As if this had not been enough, the being began to shrink, and its appearance changed, becoming more human, as if a shell was forming itself around the mechanical chassis.
 
 It was her. She was alive.
 
 "Saber!" he exclaimed in joy, as they rushed into each other's arms, tears flowing down their cheeks, almost in shock at the realisation that they were together once again.
 
 "H..how..." he tried to ask, before another voice spoke from nearby, "I think I can explain this one!"
 
 Both Saber and Shirou turned to the source of that statement, to see a large red-and-gold vehicle make its way up the hill, towards them. When it reached the summit, it transformed into a humanoid being, one whom Shirou already knew. "Rodimus Prime!"
 
 "That's right," was the response, "the real Rodimus Prime that is. It's nice to meet you both, would you guys like a lift back home?
 
 We have a lot to talk about."
 
 
 --------------
 
 
 End of Part 1.

34
Anime and Manga / Hyperdimension Neptunia (anime)
« on: August 11, 2013, 03:43:59 AM »
This season, Funimation are simulcasting the anime adaptation of Hyperdimension Neptunia for the US and Canada.

TVアニメ『超次元ゲイム ネプテューヌ』第2弾PV


The premise of the setting is a world in which the various console/handheld manufacturers are represented by distinct nations led by various goddesses (who themselves are incarnations of various consoles) and little sisters/candidates (based on various handhelds). Three of the realms are based on current console/handheld manufacturers, while the fourth is based on what would have been had a certain former manufacturer remained in that line of business. In addition, other characters in the setting are based on various software makers, while others are manifestations of various negative aspects of Gamindustri.

The adaptation, which is five episodes in as of yesterday, is said to be an original story, but one which mines various events and plot points from all three PS3 games in the series. Where things will go from here on in remains to be seen.


And of course, on a board like this, it's worth noting that both the lead character and her younger sister are representing Team Purple...

35
Fanfiction / Crystallized Moments
« on: August 10, 2013, 05:34:25 AM »
Over on Beast's Lair, I have (or, more properly, had been) attempting to develop a storyline set in a strand of the Kaleidoscope following after UBW-Good. This story arc has an OC protagonist, who originally didn't have a name. (The first "story" in the series was intended to be a one-shot, and gradually blossomed into a full-length work - and then into the mid-point of a three-part series I never got around to completing.)

At this point, if I ever get back into writing for this series properly, I am half-tempted to essentially re-boot the original portion of the story, since I'm not entirely sure about how it holds up at this point. (Not that I'd say that any of this series is worth your time, but I guess the evolution of the broader story arc raises questions about the original chain of events which I find myself wondering how to answer.)

So, for now, I want to start slowly on these boards, and only post up what exists for this portion of the storyline. (I may or may not post what I have for the other parts anyway, but I haven't quite decided on that just yet.)


To re-iterate, this work, along with the others in the same timeline, are intended to incorporate the Good ending of the Unlimited Blade Works route from F/SN.


Part 1


I don't remember all that much from my time in the classroom. While being there took up the bulk of my time during most days, the actual contents of each class, or rather the way in which the conversations there might have gone back and forth, are beyond my recollection.

While, in one sense, it was a relief to be there (something which might have surprised most of the other students present, who were, I guess, had less of a reason to not mind the time spent there) it was never the highlight... or lowest point... of my daily routine.

There are only a few things I can remember; one of them, during a geography lesson (or was it world history? I'm not too sure). Someone in the class made a comment about always getting
'airurando' and 'aisurando' mixed up.

At the time, I didn't think much of it; they both seemed to be quite far away.


------


November 11, 2003


"Look like he's here already."

As Seonac Ó'Conaill stepped out into the roof garden atop the Chester Beatty Library building, he looked over to see the man to whom his current travel companion, Bláthnaid Ní hAodha, was referring.

At the end of the garden, the man had been looking out towards Dublin Castle, which stood to one side of the larger garden at the foot of the building. The viewpoint from the CBL allowed one to see as far as the Castle on one side, and to the old Coach House on the other; the latter converted into a modest, yet respectable venue. There was not overly much to see beyond this from the rooftop vantage point, and even then one had to go to the edge of the garden to look over the short wall at its edge; still, there was always the sky... when it wasn't overcast, at least.

"Ah, Mr. Ó'Conaill, I presume?" the man smiled and waved, as he walked across the garden to greet Seonac and Bláthnaid in person.

For a second, Seonac wanted to look over his shoulder, to see if the man was somehow referring to an elder member of his family. "Seonac is fine, sir; and you are..."

"Oh, of course, sorry," the man stopped himself, just as he literally came to a stop in front of the two arrivals. "I thought Florence here -"

"Bláthnaid," the woman pointed out; somewhat cross at the prospect of explaining her preference towards using the Irish, rather than English, version of her given name.

The man raised a hand in apology. "Sorry, Bláthnaid; I'm still having a bit of trouble trying to get used to Irish Gaelic names. You'd think growing up in Nova Scotia would have helped with that..."

Well, Seonac thought to himself, at least he's not calling me Jonathan. "Wouldn't they have more of that other type of Gaelic, anyway?"

"Scots, yeah, a little," the man replied, "but not so much in Halifax compared to..."

After stopping himself again, he simply offered an outstretched hand. "Micheal mac Coinnich, at your service."

Seonac took the offered hand; the first formal introduction between himself and the man known more commonly as Michael Mackenzie. While Seonac was somewhat relieved at not letting things get too side-tracked during this phase of the conversation (an all too common occurrence when meeting new people, he found) his relative lack of eye contact prevented him from noticing a faint glimpse of not-quite-normal activity in the other man's gaze.

"Did you make it over to Dublin Airport in good time, Mr. mac Coinnich?" Bláthnaid asked. She had been the most recent psychologist to take on Seonac's somewhat unorthodox case over the course of the past two months; what few realised was the nature of some of her less-than-public acquaintances.

"Oh, Mike is fine," he offered, as he moved to shake her hand in turn. "I actually flew in via Belfast; the way the travel itinerary worked out, I ended up taking the Enterprise train down to Connolly Station; then after getting myself acquainted with my hotel, here I am!"

"How did you find the trip down?" wondered Seonac, who had been up to Belfast on occasion.

"Very interesting contrast, I found," Mike offered. "Up there, the roads, footpaths, signage and so on all look a lot more like what you'd see in many parts of Britain; plus it was very hilly terrain, I found. Once I crossed the border, everything got a lot flatter, and here the colour of the tarmac and so forth have a different hue. Very interesting, how those kind of things can affect the way you perceive a place."

Seonac nodded in agreement. He had noticed a palpable difference when being on either side of the border; yet he had never quite been able to put a finger on exactly what he was picking up on. At least, before any of the locals on either side started talking.

"And, of course, I saw a lot more people wearing something like this, too," he added, pointing to the red-and-black poppy he was wearing.

"For Remembrance Day?" Bláthnaid asked. She wasn't too accustomed to seeing many locals in Dublin wear one; though the ones she did see on occasion looked somewhat different.

"Yep," Mike nodded, "though this one is from the Royal Canadian Legion, not the British one. I can get then at the High Commission while I'm in London; I guess the embassy here would have something similar, too. In fact:"

At this, he opened his wallet and produced something neither Bláthnaid nor Seonac had seen before; a 10-dollar Canadian note. "They started printing these a few years back. They have the poppy on the back there, along with a quote in English and French from old Sir John McCrae himself. Oh, and a blue beret taking a peek at the Peace Tower in Ottawa; to show the peacekeeping aspect of the day for those Canadians with a mind not to forget."

Seonac held the note in his hand, almost getting himself used to the idea of money with a person's face on the front (in this case, Sir John A. Macdonald, the first Prime Minister of Canada); the euro notes in his own wallet had more abstract buildings and bridges on them.

"Anyway," Mike said, before he got too far down this side track. "I don't suppose we're here to talk about roads and stop signs. Maybe we could take a seat out here and get things going?"

After handing back the note, Seonac walked over with Mike and Bláthnaid to a pair of adjacent benches to one side of the garden; Bláthnaid sitting to one side of Seonac on the first bench, while Mike took a seat on the next one over, turning to face the other two.

After they sat down, Seonac paused to try and collect his thoughts for a moment; he noticed that for some reason, they felt more at ease than they had been in a while. "So, I'm told that you are a specialist, and that you may be able to help me?"

Mike couldn't help but smile at that. So, she really hasn't told you, he thought to himself. Well, I can't leave that un-addressed much longer. "I might, depending on what it is you want to do going forward; but before we deal with anything else, there is one question I need to ask you."

To emphasise the point, he looked straight over to the younger Irishman, before he asked simply:

"Can you hear voices in your head?"

Seonac gasped in response, shocked both at the manner of question, and the way in which he had 'heard' it. Mike had not opened his mouth to speak, yet Seonac heard it as clear as day.

"I thought as much," Mike said, not needing to hear an answer to know the message had gotten across.

Bláthnaid, for the first time, revealed a card from her own proverbial deck, in terms of knowledge of the supernatural. "I wish it hadn't taken this long to nail it down, but I'm glad my guess was accurate."

"Guess?" Seonac replied, still coming to terms with the turn of events. "You... I... I mean, I hadn't said anything... I thought I..."

"Was going mad?" Mike stepped in, offering a more conciliatory tone. "I'm sorry it wasn't something you were prepared for, but yes, it's true; you have a gift, and a pretty rare one at that."

Seonac found himself wondering just how grateful he was supposed to be for this 'gift' Mike spoke of. "In other words..."

"In other words, Seonac," Bláthnaid responded: "You're a magus, and a telepathic one at that."

A magus... He was no more prepared to hear that his less-fearful thoughts in the wake of that terrible day in September were justified than he had been when his mind's eye had been pried open on his sixteenth birthday. And yet, a part of him found a degree of currency when taking the term 'magus' on board.

Magus... Magus... Magus...

"I am a magus." He said the words aloud; and strangely enough, the words seemed to fit.

"For the sake of disclosure, I am also a magus," Bláthnaid spoke to reassure him. "Although, my specialty is more to do with alchemy than the stuff you have going on in your mind."

Mike took his offered cue. "I, on the other hand, am another teep, like you. We aren't that common, so those of us who are more established try to help out those magi who do manifest the talent."

Seonac paused to consider this; though perhaps more out of a wish to channel the dozens of questions bombarding the inner walls of his mind at the revelation than the need to process what had already been said. "There are more of us; more magi, and more telepaths, I mean?"

"Yes and yes, though many more of the one than the other," Mike replied. "We are each part of a group known as the Mage's Association; I'm typically based in a branch of the Clock Tower, near the site of the British Museum over in London, while Bláthnaid is affiliated with Atlas, based down in Egypt."

Neither Mike nor Bláthnaid rushed to mention the often troubled set of relations between these two nominally-associated Great Branches of the Association; neither felt the need to go too deeply into the politics of thaumaturgy too quickly.

"Ordinarily, we might have tried to look after you ourselves," Bláthnaid tried to explain, "but given your manifestations, I felt it best to call in someone with a specialty closer to yours; especially since you're a first-gen."

"First-gen?" Seonac wondered, surprised to hear his condidition described in such terms.

"Yeah, a lot of magus families go back several generations," Mike added. "That makes it easier for a parent to pass on their knowledge, experience and training from one generation to the next. For example, both my brother David and I are magi, and teeps to boot; though I was the one to get this."

'This' was deomonstrated as Mike lifted up his left forearm, calling forth the embedded runes of his Magic Crest. Seonac was astonished by their aethyric glow, but immediately found himself wondering about the wisdom of such a spectacle in this place. "Um... is it a good idea to be doing that here?"

Mike smiled again. "Oh, we're fine; there are a few tricks of the trade I can teach you... depending on..."

"Depending on?" Seonac asked.

Mike looked over to Bláthnaid for a moment, then back to Seonac himself. "Depending on what choice you make."

Bláthnaid understood what Mike was referring to; though she had not dealt with first-gens enough to feel overly comfortable with offering the choice herself. Still, she felt bound by her sense of responsibility towards the youth to play her role, if she needed to.

"If you were in an established family, the choice would probably have already been made for you," Mike went on, "but since you are a newly-emergent magus, and a late bloomer at that, you have a choice."

"Most magi manifest their talents at a much younger age," Bláthnaid added, "or at least are trained in the family business long before they even hit pubescence."

"Oh, so no pressure, then," Seonac sighed. It was bad enough for him to feel behind the curve socially compared to most of his peers; perhaps a consequence of his having Asperger Syndrome (which Bláthanid herself had recently diagnosed), though not something he liked hiding behind a condition to explain. The thought of being adrift in this new world couldn't help but leave a sinking feeling in its wake.

"Don't worry about it lad," Mike offered. "One way or another, you'll have to take things at your own pace, anyway."

"Okay..." Seonac replied, unsure what to make of that reassurance.

"If you want, Bláthnaid and I can try to seal your powers in," Mike moved on to the nub of the present matter. "You'll forget what happened here today, and assuming we can get a handle on things without too much trouble, you can try to go on and live your life as a normal human being."

"Or as close to one as I'd ever be, I guess," Seonac half-countered. "You don't sound too confident you'll be able to stop it, though."

"Not a hundred percent safely," Bláthnaid pointed out. "Plus, even if you don't know you have sorcerous potential, there are other who might be able to find out; not all of them are as accommodating as we would be towards your well-being."

"Yeah, there is that," Mike sighed, the remark hitting close to home. "There are some in the more estranged part of my own family who wouldn't lift a finger to help if... Well, it's not like there aren't risks of a purely mundane nature in life, too."

"And if I don't take the blue pill?" Seonac asked, not quite picturing the fair-skinned Mike in the role of a real-life Morpheus.

"Then you have a chance to do something more with your life." Mike tried to sound as even-handed with the offer as he was technically supposed to, but it was palpably clear which option he preferred Seonac take.

"Look, I'm not sticking to the script on this one," he went on, "but, seriously, lad; take this on. I know it might sound daunting to step into the brave new world right now, but you won't be going in alone. You have a power that few in the world ever even imagine having; and are part of a pretty cool subset, at that."

"So you say," Bláthnaid quipped, not able to hold back on a little dig at the Nova Scotian's expense.

"So I say!" Mike countered defiantly. "And so should you, Seonac."

It was a lot to ask. Only moments after discovering the first pieces of the puzzle regarding his inner nature, with only a light sprinkling of information about the kind of life which might await him were he to accept this challenge; it would have been all too easy to hesitate, or hold back. However, in Seonac's mind, he couldn't help but feel that even if his mind had never opened itself the way it had, he would never find the kind of opportunity to make something of his life in the 'mundane' world.

Well, maybe I'm being too hard on myself with that,
he thought, but then self-confidence hasn't quite been my strong point.

Still, before he could make a decision, he had to ask one more thing. "If I say yes, what can I tell my family? I mean, I'm guessing the Association you speak of doesn't take too kindly to publicity."

"No, it really doesn't," Mike admitted, "but there are members of magus families who have no sorcerous ability. Some of them marry into the family, while others are from a generation which, for whatever reason, has seen their potential dry up."

Bláthnaid had thought of this already, since she already knew Seonac's parents. "Since you are technically founding your own magus lineage with this, you would, in principle, be in a position to entrust the truth with those among your blood lineage that you see fit. If you want to keep it from them, you are entitled to do so; but I won't tell on you if you want to disclose in private."

"Neither will I," Mike promised, with his hand up in the air to emphasise the point.

Taking in their clarification, Seonac took a deep breath. When he exhaled, he looked around at the rock garden surrounding him. For some unspecified reason, he seemed to feel more aware of it than he had been hitherto; as if looking at the setting for the first time.

It was this kind of clarity, of inner calm, which he had craved during his recent ordeal.

Throwing it away was out of the question.

He stood up, taking a couple of steps into the rock garden before turning back to both Mike and Bláthnaid.

His relaxed smile, his look of fresh confidence, the faint glimmer of hope in his emerald-green eyes; they showed only one conclusion.

"I'm in."

Pages: 1 2 [3]