In a cataclysm known as the Nightfall, the worlds were almost completely destroyed by a harrowing surge of darkness.
In the shadows of the ensuing chaos a new group has taken shape. Led by an Aegyl named Kalos, the 11th Hour touts an esoteric knowledge of how to combat the darkness and restore the worlds. They might be the worlds’ best chance at survival; but nobody really knows enough about them to confirm or deny their claims.
On the brink of collapse, the universe holds its breath in anticipation. Of restoration? Of destruction? It is up to individuals like yourself to decide.
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There aren't enough praises in the world I'd like to give to wonderful coders for the Proboards community. The following have contributed to World Destiny in some way: W3 Schools for countless how-tos and countless of other souls who have helped get WD up to where it is.
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The shadow banshee was hunched over the little canal at the end of the walkway from the Second District. The remaining flames had dissipated, now nothing more than thin sheets of grey steam. It seemed to be basking in the calm after the pain, hovering in the liquid blue beneath its tattered drape.
Sharp yellow eyes darted toward the presence of a newcomer: it seemed this calm was to be short lived. The party crasher was armed, and obviously meant business. And if she were looking for a fight. . .
With a twisted grin, one tattered sleeve lifted slightly from the side of its body, wisps of translucent black ice crackling and popping to form the shape of a reaper's blade. One Soul Reaper crackled into existence, landing in a grasp that hid behind long, scraggly sleeves.
A pair of airy voices snarled into the atmosphere, coelesced in perfect unison. "Humans. So predictable. Either you run away in fear, or think you actually stand a chance to fight. For a species whose members long to be different, you're all relatively the same," the seething paused, the monster's expression twisting into one of warped contentment.
Then, those icy voices seemed to coil right up close to the Human, bringing with them a rigid chill as they whispered into the wind. "Tell me, Plaything. . . What do you fear the most?"
N A D I A V E R D A N S K Y "DON'T WANNA BE THE ONE TO WALK AWAY"
Not far behind, she raced down the alleyway in pursuit of The Nightmare Bringer. This was the perfect chance to confront and slay the creature, earning her a juicy reward and perhaps even some respect from the rest of the mercenaries in Traverse Town. As great as she could be, the woman was practically an unknown entity in the world and she needed to start her "career" somewhere, somehow. This surely wasn't an opportunity to be wasted, and Nadia was willing to use all those years of training back at the Smuggler's Moon to get an upper hand.
She suddenly came to an abrupt stop, her dark gaze meeting the banshee's. The creature seemed to be expecting her, like a cat eying its favorite mouse toy. Verdansky tensed up upon making eye contact; while the monster's mere looks were terrifying enough, its voice was capable of paralyzing even the strongest warrior with fear. However, she managed to keep her own emotions in check and was now prepared to face whatever that thing had under its sleeve... or so she thought.
"Well, let's see here..." she began, taking Opal in her grasp. The mere atmosphere was enough to let her know ice wasn't an option in this battle. Nadia's tactics would need to be adapted to another element, but that wasn't such a big deal. Removing a grenade from her utility belt, the mercenary managed to paint a smirk across her face.
"I believe that would be your mother." She quickly teared the pin off with her teeth and threw the explosive at her opponent, intending to make it land a feet or two behind the banshee. The huntress then followed up by raising her gun and firing away a barrage of Fire Trackers, just in case The Nightmare Bringer managed to float out of the grenade's area of effect.
This time, the explosive wasn't actually a true explosive, but an adhesive grenade to keep the monster in place. Nadia could just hope her plan worked so she could end the battle as soon as possible.
((Ice energy remaining on Obsidian: 21/30; fire energy remaining on Opal; 20/30; plasma grenades remaining: 7; adhesive grenades remaining: 2))
N A D I A V E R D A N S K Y "BUT I CAN'T BEAR THE THOUGHT OF ONE MORE DAY"
Flames of pure obsidian danced into the atmosphere as the Banshee awaited an answer.
"I believe that would be your mother."
When one came, its sinister gaze distorted with confusion, yellow streaks now uneven while it pondered. And it was that split second that caught the demon off guard for a few moments. And it was in that fraction of a second that Nadia made her move.
Shlip. . . . Tink. Tink.
The oblong explosive rolled into the Banshee's shadow, right beneath its target, and Nightmare hissed. It was an ethereal shriek - some foreign pain seething into the atmosphere, voices loud and strengthened by a new wave of surprise and anger.
The tattered black drape twirled away, desperately trying to avoid the impending assault.
B O O M.
The nearby corners of the world rattled with the atomic attack, but Nightmare was free.
Or was he?
As it tried to glide away, the corner of that onyx cloak had snagged, adhering to the trap the Hunter had launched like a fly to flypaper. A few more attempts to free itself, and the snag came free. It was hardly in time to duck and coil out of the way of the Fire Trackers that had come for the more solid parts of its body.
But what Nightmare hadn't expected, was for the second attack to double back. Like a handful of heat-seaking missiles, the course of the orange needles altered and sent the little explosions straight toward their target. One at time, the spines took a dive; the first smack-dab between where the Banshee's shoulder blades would be. As it traveled straight through its target, it melted the shadowy material holding Nightmare together, searing as it tore right through the monster's body.
The second slid right across one of the tattered sleeves, skimming the beast's arm. The third met the bottom of where its ribcage should've been, and the fourth disappeared somewhere beneath the enveloping shadows of what should've been the leg.
An agonized screech came from the creature, and it spun around, surprised by the biting feeling that had suddenly come through its darkness-bound physique all at once. As shadows rolled off of the demon's wounds like inky black blood, its dual voices, female and male, resounded with irritation and stored up hate. "So, you're the type that thinks you actually stand a chance." Shadows tightened around the Soul Reaper in its hand, and with focussed energy, the beast slashed its sword in Nadia's direction. Obsidian wisps flew toward the Hunter, forming shards of icy, dark energy.
N A D I A V E R D A N S K Y "I THINK I FINALLY UNDERSTAND WHAT IT MEANS TO BE LOST"
Aw, mama! This girl was on a roll!
Letting her lips curve into a wide, cocky grin, Nadia simply observed as her attack proceeded with nothing less than perfection. Just as she had planned. Both the grenade and the trackers hit their target exacrly where she had wanted them to and now the girl had the upper hand in this skirmish. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she relaxed her posture, slightly loosening her grip on Opal. She felt as if someone was taking a heavy weight off her shoulders, but the huntress knew that their battle wasn't over just yet. She couldn't let her guard down, not now. That had been her mentor's mistake and she would not repeat it herself.
"Feeling a bit "burnt out", Nightmare? But the fun was just getting started!" She teased the creature, mocking it as it slowly began to recover from the attack. Perhaps her words would interrupt his concentration and give her another opening to land the finishing move. Verdansky seriously hoped this was the case because, even though she wouldn't admit it, she was completely in the dark regarding the Nightmare's techniques. Darkness was a rather versatile weapon, one that could be handled in many shapes and forms, as well as combined with other styles.
Unfortunately for Nadia, the creature had decided to strike back.
She watched as a series of dark waves begun to cover the weapon it wielded, certainly powering it up for the next assault. Was the Nightmare going to launch himself at her, intending to cut her into pieces like a savage would? Would the darkness afflict her with a curse, slowly draining her life force until she was weak enough to be taken by the shadows? Either way, Nadia needed to be prepared for anything, including close combat.
She knew it and she silently hoped he would keep his distance.
Suddenly, and without warning, dozens of dark shards were flung at her location, intending to pierce her body and cripple her spirit. The huntress cursed under her breath, attempting to avoid most of them by rolling to the opposite direction. What she Nadia didn't realize in that moment was the fact that she had just let herself open to a chain attack when she threw herself down to the ground. And, sure, she successfully avoided most of the shards, but the following attack could certainly turn out to be even deadlier.
Verdansky glanced at her arm, noticing the blood trickling down from her newly open wounds. Damn, that would surely leave an ugly scar once it healed. Offering the Nightmare a dark grimace, the huntress rapidly rose, this time releasing a deadly fire laser from her pistol. Perhaps the Nightmare would be fooled into believing it was nothing more than another barrage of trackers. Perhaps the Nightmare would fall back in an attempt to avoid the attack. Or perhaps the Nightmare would just embrace the pain, considering a fitting sacrifice for the bigger amount of damage it could be planning to deal her.
It did not matter. Nadia just wanted to tear that cloaked figure into pieces, claim her reward and call it day.
((Ice energy remaining on Obsidian: 21/30; fire energy remaining on Opal: 14/30; plasma grenades remaining: 7; adhesive grenades remaining: 2))
N A D I A V E R D A N S K Y "CAN'T FIND THE ROAD TO LEAD US OUT OF THIS"
The Nightmare was moving in for another attack, looking to finally have Nadia in a place it could unleash its tether to the Nether World, and drag her into her worst fears. As the Shadow-spawn drew closer to the Hunter, it was well aware that Nadia, too, was wearing down.
It was time.
The Nightmare drew its Soul Reaper, preparing the capturing strike. And there it froze, dark arm in the air, weapon poised for its final blow. But before it could land its strike, a blazing strip of Fire shot through its torso. This menacing position was what it froze in as its body braced the fiery assault.
The creature gave a final cry, its shriek sharper and fouler than the foulest Demon. Still screeching, it curled over to hold its wound: the fourth blow in this skirmish had been the worst. It was the one that would harness the threat of the Nightmare.
Strands of Darkness streamed off of the creature as it backed up, hovering just above the edge of the Water Way. More and more of the Darkness unraveled in strands, until the Banshee's presence vanished like a shadow into the black of night, its cry fading into nothingness. In the monster's place, still tightly gripping the hilt of a Soul Reaper, was a young female. She couldn't have been over nineteen.
A distinct orange, forward-swept mane was unmistakeable: anyone that had met her would likely remember that head of bright, messy hair. She was holding her newest wound, grunting quietly in a feeble attempt bottle up the pain. Her appearance was ratted up, the minor wounds the Nightmare had obtained transferred to her own flesh and blood.
The female was sweating, shaking; well exhausted from the battle that had just unfolded. Her fingers loosened around the handle of her weapon, and it fell with a clatter to the ground, disappearing in a glimmer of sparkling darkness.
Frost blue eyes stared beyond a brow furrowed by intense pain, toward the other in this district, and with unclear vision, she tried to identify several things: the stranger that stood before her, their location, and just what was going on before she came to.
An unknown individual stood before her, weapon drawn. Era was wounded and fatigued, and was awakened somewhere she couldn't remember her own two feet taking her. She knew what this meant; her Heartless had become manifest once again. What it meant was that the little black Dragon that tormented her from the shadows had temporarily possessed her and gone on a destroying spree, where everyone in the town was free game. Era herself would never commit such an act; she just didn't have the Heart for that... but her story was quite outlandish. If she told it like that, she wouldn't have blamed her opponent for not believing a lick of it.
Too tired to summon her weapon back into her palm, the younger female's hand came up defensively, trying to keep the other at bay as she thought about what to say, what to do. She wasn't ready to give up, but she knew that in this state, she couldn't even dent the opposing person.
The strange quiet that ensued for a few minutes after her return to normal gave her time to think, and as she did, her blood tinged the water she stood in. There had to be a clear explanation for this... but she'd have to come up with the words pronto.
The throbbing pain in her torso had migrated into her head, giving her a splitting headache and making it very hard to maintain a stable thought process. Her vision kept blurring like a fuzzy TV, and it was proving difficult to look the stranger in the eye.
Come on Era, think! Come up with something in your defen-- The world was turning white. The throbbing in her head and her ribcage was growing worse by the millisecond.
Say something or die! Something, anyth-- She was losing her balance. Come on Era! Perhaps you could just say it was a misund--
-- everything turned white.
The limp body of the Nightmare Bringer, small and fragile as she was, fell backward, landing in the water with a splash. And there it lay, motionless.
N A D I A V E R D A N S K Y "A MILLION MILES FROM WHERE WE BURNED THE BRIDGE"
Bullseye. Surprisingly, the attack had hit the creature square in the chest, dealing massive damage and scoring more points for the huntress. Once again uttering a thank you to whatever god she believed in, Nadia remained alert, her body still tense and pumping more and more adrenaline as the seconds went by. The Nightmare Bringer was retreating, apparently drained by the injuries it had suffered... but she wouldn't let her guard down, not now. Raising Opal, she cautiously approached the dark being, ready to release another laser if it all turned out to be a simple feint.
However, something she would have never expected to happen... well, happened. The creature continued to emit darkness as if it were blood, releasing an agonizing cry until there wasn't any more to unravel. And suddenly, without warning, the banshee disappeared, leaving nothing more than a wounded young girl in its place. 'Wait... what the hell?!' The bounty hunter remained frozen in place, her eyes fixed on the trembling creature. She seemed weakened exhausted... perhaps even agonizing. Did all of this mean that the Nightmare Bringer was actually a... a little girl? Something within the woman's heart moved upon seeing such a struggling child but her body wouldn't move. What if this was all a trick of the monster? Just an illusion to lure her in?
Verdansky lowered her weapon but her grip around it considerably tightened. Sweat dripped down her forehead, her beating heart increasing in speed and intensity. Right now, she frankly had no idea of what to do and she hated it. Indecision was one of her biggest peeves and now it was taking over her own being. Why wasn't it easy to just shoot and end the creature's life? Maybe it was easy, but she... she just couldn't do it.
It just wasn't in her.
She managed to take a step forward while pondering how to handle the situation, but the girl immediately raised a hand in an attempt hold her off. Really? As if that would make a difference if she was to kill her. Another step. The redhead seemed more disoriented as the seconds went by; if this truly was a trick, she had to admit that it looked pretty legit. The huntress wanted to say something, ask this mysterious girl what had just happened and judge from her response.
She opened her mouth, the grip on Opal slightly loosening. However, no sound would come out. How should she ask this? Was she over-thinking it too much? "Ok... so, what exactly are you supposed t-"
Before she could even finish the query, the girl seemingly passed out. It was then that the heaviness that had apparently been limiting Nadia's movement vanished. Not thinking twice about the consequences of this rather reckless act, she hurried to the redhead's side and attempted to get her out of the waterway.
"Come on! Wake up, you blockhead!" The mercenary proceeded to shower the girl's face with streams of cold water. Damn it, it wasn't working. Realizing that she still had Opal in her grasp, the woman quickly proceeded to deactivate the pistol's offensive mechanism and load it with darts. This unknown female would need serious medical attention, but her chances would improve if she could stabilize her now.
A soft sigh escaped her lips as she aimed the weapon at her, her hand slightly shaking. Without warning, all of her five healing darts were consecutively fired at the girl, their contents immediately entering her bloodstream.
"Alright, don't die on me. You owe me five fucking darts." Putting her weapon away, Nadia proceeded to carry the girl and get out of the Third District as soon as possible.
((Ice energy remaining on Obsidian: 21/30; fire energy remaining on Opal: 14/30; plasma grenades remaining: 7; adhesive grenades remaining: 2; healing darts remaining: 0))
N A D I A V E R D A N S K Y "CAN'T KEEP PRETENDING THAT EVERY THING'S GONNA BE ALRIGHT"
She had remembered in surprisingly clear detail: a loud crash, the look of Fear in Ansem's frigid eyes, the Castle's debris tumbling around her as she rounded corners, awaiting her sweet reunion with the Ginger she'd left in the Trade District.
The fire of adrenaline pulsed through her veins, heightening her peripheral awareness, sharpening her thoughts. Plain as day she could still feel fear ripping at her gut, and fear not for herself, but for Rook.
Why he had chosen to blast himself behind enemy lines and come here made him both very stupid in her eyes, and very bitter-sweetly heroic. The memory ran through her mind in pieces... simple flashes telling the nightmare one more time with lightning speed.
In her mind, the dream warped. Darkness closed in from every corner. It swallowed up everyone that had been fighting, leaving only herself and Rook. And then, it wrapped around Rook's feet, taking him, too. It pulled him down, into the pitch black abyss, but no matter how much she willed it, her feet would not move. She was stuck in place against her will, and all she could do is reach for him and call his name.
Terror was on her face, and Era writhed in her bed before she jolted upright, shocked back into reality in cold horror. All that proceeded from her lips upon awakening was a stomach-churning, torturous whimper. The feeling of Rook being taken to anywhere she couldn't follow was an unbearable thought; she wanted his Light to balance her Darkness -- his brash fortitude to strengthen her hesitant weakness. And the fear or permanent separation was a horrible thing.
She would come to with a splitting headache, her eye sockets throbbing with echoes of the discomfort. Blurs of red, gold and cream colors fuzzed into clarity, and she wiped at her perspiring brow. The room walls were a soft cream color, but most of the wall space had been taken over by decorative wood slabs, fancily carved and painted bright red. Gold highlights decorated the wood, occasionally swooping close to the simple Dragon designs. Her core ached, protesting violently against her rapid movement, and she slowly let herself lay back down.
Why do I hurt so much? She was beginning to hurt like the dickens. Icy blue eyes scanned the calm room as her mind scraped for answers. And there was only one she could come up with, the answer settling into her mind at the same time she settled on the stranger in the room: Nightmare.
"So you got dragged into this, huh?" In all honesty, she had no idea who this person was, why she was in the room, or why in the worlds she'd awakened in so much pain. "Sorry. " And when she had very little control over the situation, what more was she supposed to say?
Or perhaps she did have control over it; the deal with Rayth that had gone wrong was the best way she could describe it. Her brow scrunched up again as she remembered her former leader awakening her Darkness. "I never meant for anyone else to get involved." It was just as much a statement as it was soft and inwardly reflective.