Terminus: Centricon-Reborn 1

[12:19] Syrta being young and either brave or stupid, pushed into the cave, coughing lightly from the air quality. The mounds of flesh everywhere gave her cause for worry, for something in here had to have made them..
(Syrta)
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[12:20] It was warm, yet a chill penetrated the flesh for the soul beneath.
The air was damp and heavy, albeit ever shifting, constantly in flux, as though one managed to traverse into the depths of a living lung. Small serpents devoid of features scurried away for pits amidst the fleshborne scape revealing miniature eyes along the walls to spy upon one whom had ventured deep enough into the cave.

The ground rumbled as an emission into the auditory domain rung true. Something was here... The deeper one would descend, the more bulbous structures came to view...
Further scrutiny revealed... Floating bodies? Humans, of various types-- All floating within translucent, amber pus.

It was as though they were put into stasis, perfectly preserved as they were the day they may've ventured down here. Some looked like average wanderers, while others? Some of them... Looked like magi.

A hiss brushed on by... Ushering forth a breeze that swept past the entrance and in for... Holes? Breathing...
Something was... Breathing...

Was the cave... Breathing?
Giant slits could be made out from the wall...
With the only casted light being that of the amber from the encapsulated individuals here...

Something was sleeping here...
(Terminus)
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[12:31] Syrta was unnerved by this place. But that childlike curiosity made her push forward, she had to know what was making all that breathing noise. Worst of all, it was a pain to see anything, the lack of a torch making her touch the walls for guidance, as she shifted her feet slowly along the ground lest she fall into a hole.

The bodies however were the most concerning of all, floating in pods like dolls in a display, albeit a fleshy one. "Just what the hell happened down here.." She asked herself, her voice barely above a whisper, but deafening in the near quiet of the place.

Using the light of the pods, she cautiously pressed forwards, more alert for falling into a natural hole or cave issue than any potential traps. A quick peek at whatever was snoring like a bear down here and she could get out, or so she believed.

Sometimes Curiosity was deadly..
(Syrta)
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[12:36] A sharp gust brushed by, as though something had been startled...
The walls jerked, with a flooring flexing upright enough to unsettle balance, if only for a moment.

From the vermillion mounds of flesh rose serpents of crimson, lubricated with demonic blood. They curled up in fluid fashion, ebbing and shifting lethargically for Syrta without a displayed sense of urgency. A slow rush of wind rolled over the teen, speeding up as the walls roared to life.

Eyes peeled open from the walls... Small tendrils flailed out incessantly to provide an unsightly applause for the squelching unveiling of gargantuan eyes along the northern wall. The magical presence behind the large eyes made the revealing obvious -- This, was where the majority of the mana was stowed: The Source...

Light emanated from the alabaster scelera of the many eyes that gazed upon their sole visitor, only to ultimately be dwarfed by one of grandiose stature. Soon, to complement many eyes and tendrils, came to unveiling of countless teeth. Mouths with gullets that unveiled the emulation of cosmos behind them: A bottomless abyss.

The massive eye sifted its pupil to scour the cave, only to settle upon Syrta and pause... The pupil went shrunken upon meeting her, succumbing to silence, before violently rattling the entire cave. Large tendrils that dwarfed at her size soared from the ceiling of the cave, shattering stalactites for the fleshy floor. The impact of stone earned the meat-moss' recoil, only to rapidly fold over it to be buried within its mass.

"Another?"
A bass riddled voice boomed for the world, only to find one girl.

"How I've wondered how long it'd be..."
(Terminus)
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[12:53] The sudden shift of the floor made the young girl yelp slightly, as she watched the cave quite literally come to life. Even in the low light, she could see the tendrils making way towards her as she shifted herself away from them, practically placing herself in the middle of the last part of the cave to do so.

Then the world stopped making sense to her, as giant eyes opened up in front of her, the sheer mana leaking from them noticeable to her, as her aura tried to devour it, to make it hers. A potential weakness now given the situation. Not all mana was safe to be taken after all.

"This is just a nightmare.. you'll wake up soon.."

Comforting words whispered to herself, as the bottomless abyss inside those tooth filled mouths on the wall finally made their presence known, complimented by the now many eyes staring at her. If this was reality, then Syrta had probably gone insane, because this was not normal in the slightest.

The falling stalactites forced her to move, the fear of being crushed by a rock temporarily overriding her fear of whatever it was in front of her, however the soft and fleshy ground make rapid movements risky, as she slipped and fell right onto her back, thankfully avoiding the rocks, but leaving her on the floor, staring up at the eye.

And then it spoke, oh god the cave could speak.

"I must have truly lost it, or someone spiked my food.. This can't be real.."
(Syrta)
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[13:00] The eyes scanned their visitor up and down.
Every meticulous detail was captured for the creature's understanding.

"I've had many come down to join me..." It commented in reference to the previously noted prisoners of his expansive body.

"Though, try and try all I might, I can never quite pierce your human minds for their intimate secrets..." The voice longed for freedom, but had appeared to be on the verge of surrendering to fate's cruel embrace.

"How difficult could it be, I ask myself..." Tendrils aim their heads for Syrta, poised to strike. "Yet, it is as though Mortyl herself taunts me even now... Allowing such a skill to elude my prowess." Silence was allowed to invade the scene, should the teenager not violate it.

"These ones here, do not make for good conversationalists..." A tendril closest to Syrta jutted off to the others fused with the wall. These victims were unlike the rest... Not encapsulated in a pus, but fused directly with the demonic entity's flesh where their torso would meet their legs in various poses. They did not stir, rather lifelessly drape from the wall itself. Their clothing long since parted with, to reveal where human flesh binded with demon's own: A half-absorbed cambion in some likeness.

"Their minds long taken by their dwindling sanity." There seemed to be some disappointment seeping into its voice.

"Tell me... What is the year of your lord, human?" It asked, though this time the voice it rang through pierced into the skull of the girl, bridging a connection into her mind now.

"Do you find yourself overwhelmed as those before you? Surely, you need not be afraid... The boons I could bestow upon you, surpass any of those before me. Beyond that, of your wildest dreams..."
(Terminus)
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[13:16] Syrta tried to get up, to make her body move, but the rushing winds and the tendrils now sitting above her head kept her still. Better to not test the nightmare machine made manifest if she wanted to continue breathing for the moment.

Still, she did turn her gaze to the wall of dead bodies, trying to process this things words. Just how long had it been down here it didn't know what year it was. Let alone how long has those bodies been trapped? Her world was starting to crumble as she knew it, and staring into the abyss earlier probably didn't help her cause.

Conversation, though seemed to be its current goal if she was following along properly, especially now that it was asking her a question. Also she was a bit snarky about being called a human.

"It's Twenty fifty four, soon to be fifty five. And I'm an Ursidae, not a scrawny human."

The voice in her head hurt, a lot, the forced connection unexpected, and not prepared for.

"A giant cave with eyes and mouths to endless abysses, and bodies trapped on the walls..? Anyone who claims to not be afraid would be lying.."

Although the small voice in the back of her head did seem rather curious as to what boons the flesh monster was speaking of. It couldn't hurt to ask right..?
(Syrta)
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[13:26] "Twenty-Fifty-four... It's been over ten years since my last emissary stood where you are now." The voice spoke, this time solely through her mind. "He was one of my captured... I can only assume he's long since perished...

A waste of blood and flesh."

The tendrils of its flesh waded in circular fashion around the girl, as though predators strafing about its prey in preparation for a pending pounce.

"Ursidae. I am not familiar with this 'race'. Though, you -look- human-like... A subspecies, perhaps?" The encircling tendrils reared back a bit.

"I was not always reduced to this form... Back during the days of Abendrot… Before I was betrayed by Varrach, K'thul and Sak'noth… I was able to stand tall over the many mortals of this realm. Who would fathom it'd be an Aenite that wrought me opportunity to live...

Who would fathom it would be my own kin, that would relish me to Death...

Fate would have other things in mind... Mortyl, had other things in mind."

A muscular twitch through that of the limp bodies appended to his form sought to claw for Syrta's attention, only to remain limp as it were.

"Fate brought you here as well... To awaken me from my slumber. Surely, you are worth more than a simple meal as some diminutive masses of my kin would presume.

No...

You, are opportunity given sentience.

Your curiosity drew you to me, did it not? Surely, it is because on some level, you hunger...

You hunger for a wealth that your carnal ventures have yet to scratch... Tell me of yourself, 'Ursidae'."
(Terminus)
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[13:50] Well it wasn't going to kill her yet, that was a small blessing at least. Slowly getting up off the ground into a seated position, she eye the tendrils circling around her warily. She might be able to catch at least two in her hands, but after that its was sheer luck if she managed more than that.

"It's a type of beastkin.."

She muttered. She had heard of the Aenites leaving of late however, when she was still just a child. If this was their making, then she supposed it was for the best they left. One nightmare machine was plenty.

Still what he spoke of she had never heard of before, although a few of those names did stick out. Specifically Varrach and Sak'noth. The bounties on them called them imperfects, although as to what that was, she had no idea. A lot of this didn't really make any sense right now, as she had not much context to frame it all in.

However now it wanted to know about her. The missing people rumors surround the island was the reason she came, although they were mostly buried in folktale than any actual word of mouth. She had assumed it was just a trick for parents to keep their kids in line, but as the bearkin looked up at the eye, it seemed there was in fact some truth in those tales.

"There isn't much about me to share really.." She said softly, still eyeing the tendrils circling her. "Sixteen, parents moved on after teaching me enough to get by. I punch things really good, and I can eat mana so those stupid magi cant run away from me decking them in the face."

What wasn't verbally said however, was her secret desire to stand at the top, to crush any that came before her. Everything was a tool at the end of the day for her, friendships included. The only thing that guaranteed oneself was power.
(Syrta)
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[14:02] "Beastkin. Yes. I am familiar with that."

A quizzical hum murmured throughout the confines of the cavern.

"A consumer of mana, given human shape? How curious." It spoke, "Surely, the magics of the world abroad have evolved while I remained within these depths.

You, are a product of such... Though, time and time again, I've gazed into the eyes of man." The flesh-lids around the gargantuan eye flexed to narrow his gaze upon her.

"You can see the hunger that plagues your soul... It is the bridling ember that perpetuates humanity's sin. It is the reason I exist.

You survive because your magic bestows you strength, but in your culture of magus ilk, you find yourself inadequate." The Terminal declared.

"You have strength... But there are some stronger, as most would always realize. Though, there are many more stronger than you'd care to admire. How I fathom... You envy them.

What if I told you, I could give you power that would forever draw you beyond that of your rivals. That all, monsters cloaked in man's flesh and outright, could become naught more than testaments to your power?" The wall seemed to flex outright, weighing forth to slightly drape over Syrta.

"All I would ask of you... Are labors. Trials. In turn, I offer whatever your mortal heart desires..." Toothy mouths curled for an unsightly myriad of smiles back at her.
(Terminus)
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[14:31] "Something like that yes. The mana eating is a type of magic called absorption.."

Being called out on her secret desires however, gave her a bit of a shock, how did this thing know that? She hadn't even spoken it out loud. Did her absorbing some its mana just let it connect to her..? But it wasn't wrong.

The feeling of flesh draping over her body was a odd sensation. It was both wet, and yet warm, as her aura slowly began to drain it of mana, feasting on its rich abundance of it, despite her not actively trying to do so.

The offer of power however, another tool to use, for the cost of being a tool herself. Not a bad trade, if it meant she stood at the top by the end. 'It's not like you have anywhere else to go or things to do.' The voice in the back of her mind spoke, goading her on.

"Show me.. I wish to know the top of the peaks you offer me.."
(Syrta)
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[15:19] 'Show me.'

The words earned the approach of a sole tendril for the forehead of the child. So long ago had it been since he was capable of conjuring illusionary manifestations. The grasp on its magics was waning, but surely it did not mean that its power was growing weak... Nay, it was evolving as he was.

With the withering vestiges of its remnants, he sought to intensify their mental connection via physical touch. The micro-vibrations could be felt on such minute level that the very point of contact sought to defy the veil of flesh. The network of mana beneath the surface invaded for the mind... With projection of occultic influence and telepathic eminence piercing into the mind of the waiting.

With what powers of illusionary beckoning one could still conjure -- An alternate world opened up to Syrta's eyes.

The ebonic miasma that rolled off her flesh was opaque now, her figure levitating off the grounds far below.

"The world could be changed at your whim..." Terminus' voice spoke without a source to her.
At the grounds below, men and women knelt before her.

"You, a Queen without equal, should you deem it so." A force beyond her form forced her head to turn for the encompassing environment. It acted with absolute presence, but far from jarring and awkward. Flames coated the horizon, painting the edge with a saffron bleed into tangerine tendrils licking at black smoke.

"Your enemies, fallen by forces, by your newly acquired power..." A gentle nudge to turn to her hands, now bestowing before her as though a foreign piloting force was taking the reigns for her in a demonstration.

"With the knowledge of the shadow, you will become a Seer of the deepest veil."

The realm around her was shrouded to naught, leaving naught but a single man reduced to only head-and-torso.

"I will restore both you, and your loved ones back from ruin..." Scars and bruises faded away, with pulsating mounds where arm and leg numbs were left. From splitting open into bloody bone and sinew, to forging new... Arms? Legs? Transforming from human nugget to fully enabled man in meager moments.

"Power. Wealth. Restoration. Any and all can be bestowed... All I ask in return..." The illusion faded away, revealing her back to the cavern she ventured into. The tendril had broken physical contact, leaving the demon to gaze down upon her.

"Is your prayer... Your devotion... Your sacrifice."

The squelch of flesh played out for all to hear, with numerous eyes peeling over to gaze upon the unveiling of a new development. One of the many pods of flesh and split open, spilling amber slime across the fleshy wall, allowing a human body to slide down to the soft, meat-moss floor.

"Those whom have ventured to these depths have been taken in... Modeled after what I believe will be the new... Generation of man..." The demon declared, its gargantuan eye still focused upon Syrta.

"Their hunger for... More...
Their sin... Unrelenting...
Their drive to break from their prison forged of their own folly, unmatched.

Truly, your kin are destined to birth their own..." Pause was given, as though careful consideration for their choice of words... Even waiting for this newly 'reborn' to rise.

"Cataclysm." A dubbing of sorts...
Calypso was born anew, from the nonmagi he once was.
(Terminus)
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[15:35] The grand vision, the might to be hers. Wealth and fame were just secondary to being at the top. However, it did please her seeing the image of what could be. She just had to live long enough to see it done. And be wise enough to not get found out before she was ready to unleash her power in full.

"What do you require of sacrifice?"

The was no hesitation in her question, a simple question that needed a simple answer. Power was never free, she had learned that the hard way during her own basic lessons. There was always a cost somewhere, and it was always better to know it before you signed the contract.

The wet squelching noise of a body erupting from the one of the pods however drew her attention, the slime coated body now dubbed in front of her.

'Ah, blessed with tools already..' The voice in her head spoke, as she looked them over. They seemed adept enough, but only time would tell.

Power, life, and wealth, all within reach, and all she had to do was sign say yes. It would be so easy to, just one word, and the doorway will open in full.
(Syrta)
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[15:40] --Everything felt so different it's as if time itself had slowed down for minutes, hours, days, years. There were so many thoughts rushing into his head likely to do with the circuits drawing mana from the source.

Visions started to form it appeared as if another personality was starting to take form, though it wasn't trying to take over just take form inside the vessel.

His mind begins to twist and contort causing him to remain on the ground longer than he would have liked. He couldn't fight back against it, it already started to form and its presence had been known.

The split finally occurred; he slowly regained the energy to stand his face and would switch from a sadden expression to one that was more cheerful. There was an internal battle happening within him, and he didn't have the strength to fight back.

"---"

He, it, they, them whatever they refer to themselves as found it hard to speak yet the smile still remained on his face. He turned his head slowly towards the girl, and back towards the flesh pod he came from.

"I-"

That's all he managed to get out again before he giggled softly to himself, it was painful. Internally it felt like he wanted to scream, but on the outside he found the situation amusing.

Finally it seems he managed to get his words together, "I came from that?" He didn't direct his question to anyone in particular; however, if anyone wanted to answer he wouldn't be opposed to it.

He giggled again before examining the cave. This was interesting and he couldn't wait to see how this played out.
(Calypso)
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[15:51] The walls were coated in pulsating flesh, eyes, tendrils and mouths lined with teeth occupied space every so often where a flesh pod did not hold yet another floating persona within the Terminal's form.

Some bodies of men and women protruded halfway from the walls, fused at the abdomen to the demon's flesh. Their bodies went limp long ago, yet still occasionally twitched. Scrutiny to their features revealed demonic adaptations to their form: Cambionization attempts.

The entire sect of this cave, was coated in the Terminal's cancerous mass.

'What do you require of sacrifice?' asked the Ursidae, to which the demon allowed for silence to settle.

"That, of your own flesh... To prove your devotion. In doing such, I will ensure that you will see power unlike anything you could ever know." It answered.

Calypso's query was met with the gaze of the Terminal's dominant eye
"You were once a nonmagus child that ventured to the mouth of my cave. Rather than bind with you to feed myself, I decided to birth you anew.

Now... You have the ability to use magic like the people beyond your land. Though, you are not yet strong enough to survive my cambionization. Perhaps best to see what you develop into first."

The eye turned its attention back to Syrta. "Though, I'm certain aversion and fear would turn you from the desire to self-harm... Your prayer and provings through trial and tribulation will suffice for now.

Until..." Yet another squelching of sangeuinous flesh sounded off to reveal a... Book? Its cover appeared to be a soft... Leather? Nay... It was pulsating flesh, the same material borne of the cave. "I have a chosen for my grimoire. That chosen individual shall take head of my endeavors... Until I have the essence required to manifest another." The eyes switched over to Calypso and back, as though still mulling overits options.

"Surely, the first of many trials are most simple... I imagine it shouldn't be anything you two couldn't accomplish."

(Terminus)
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[15:53] {Item} You drop The Centricon.
[15:53] {Item} You picked up The Centricon. Dropped by Terminus..
[15:55] {Item} You drop The Centricon.
[15:56] {Item} You picked up The Centricon. Dropped by Syrta..
[16:07] Their question was answered, but it left room for so many more it didn't feel like he got anywhere with that one. Though it's likely the reason he begins to feel like this as if he were a new person in his same old body.

"Magic..?"

He put his hands forwards waiting to see the -magic- that was supposedly meant to come from his body, and yet nothing happened it's as if his body didn't flip the proper switch yet.

Despite his attempt to step forwards he held out his hand, it was quite a bold move for him though close mouths won't get fed.

"Are you magic? You have to be if I came from you, so lend me some of your magic to get me started."

Perhaps it could be loaned out to others upon request; however, it could be the other voice ringing his brain to propose such a rash idea. Yet he didn't waver from his request instead he moved forward with both hands open.

In the way a child would reach for their father to pick them up; perhaps he was asking for something he couldn't comprehend or maybe he knew exactly what he was doing.

"If only just a little of your own I'm sure I can manage the rest."

No more question he knew what he wanted, and if he didn't push for it then his existence should be wiped away. He can't begin his journey being afraid of what comes next; he walks forward a little more.

"If only just a drop"

He mutters with a smile on his face.
(Calypso)
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[16:16] Sacrifice of flesh. A simple but straightforward answer. But what could she offer than wouldn't hamper her goals or plans. Sacrificing an arm or a leg would make it hard to move or fight if it came down to it for awhile, and she still needed her tongue for the moment.

Then it came to her exactly what she could give, that was both manageable for her, but sufficient in devotion to start. Her left eye. If the that offer of being able to mend was true, she would soon be able to acquire an eye far better suited to her tasks at hand.

Looking up at the wall, knowing it could hear her thoughts as clear as her own, she stared down at her hands. Not exactly prime tools for yanking out an eye, but unless a better option was presented it would suffice.

Unless stopped, Syrta would reach up and dig her fingers into her left eye, before yanking the bloodied orb out, biting back a roar of pain as she did so, before holding it up towards the wall. The dedication to wanting to stand at the top was more than enough for her to do it, but the demonic influence made actually committing to it far easier.

"An.. Offering..."
(Syrta)
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[16:45] The youth approached, newly reborn and bold enough to request of power directly... Outright...
Without even a tribute?
Without even sacrifice?

Surely, this was folly? This was human nature by Terminus' definition.
Calypso closed in, seemingly not afraid. Surely, this being knew what the demon was capable of? The self-proclaimed Patron...

"Renounce that which makes you One of Many, for you are Many Of One.

Renounce that which seeks further bloodshed, for soon you shall never bleed again.

Renounce that which drives you to bloodlust, for you will not be blinded by the flesh.

Renounce that which makes you mortal, for soon you shall join the undying."

The chant sounded off as Calypso approached...
As Syrta turned her Will unto her own body...

"Call upon me, for the strength to carry my vision so that you may achieve yours."

'If only just a little of your own I'm sure I can manage the rest.' pleaded the reborn, encroaching further.
'If only just a drop.'

"Call upon me, to offer up your flesh and soul so that you are rewarded mine."

As the chant carried on, Syrta was never stopped nor deterred by the likes of the demon. Reaching upward to draw out her own eye. The agony it must've wrought upon her, something that wrought an inkling of satisfaction to a demon tormented by humanity for the majority of its existence on the realm.

"Through the cost of my hand, you shall live forever more- No longer to suffer mortality’s wrath."

A tendril descended for the previously unveiled grimoire, with another descending for Calypso's forehead. The moment it'd make contact with both the lavender glint from the demonic construct took to a vibrant mauve, corrupt pungent in its potency.

The offering bestowed before him: An eye was enraptured by the influence of telekinesis, carted off to the air to be toiled into an open gullet of the Terminal.

A surge of maleficent energies pierced through the tip of tendril that embraced his reborn. It singed the flesh, clutching at the mind and stabbing at it with phantasmic likeness from all-over. The circuitry of the man surrendering himself to the creature was pelted from within, invaded by mana that was not his own. It chilled bone and flesh, flexing any and all in its path. Vascularity wrapped for a stygian tint, blackening around the eyes dared to cry a blackened slime.

The result: A faint, but swiftly waning aura of the occult cloaking Calypso.

In the same breath, the grimoire pulsated... Well fed with the essence of such acts.

"But of a dreamscape crafted for me, and to all who also see…"
The chanted prayer had come to an end, though Terminus' monologue persisted...

"Your power wanes... For I demand proper ritual for your occultic ascension." The creature demands of Calypso.
"Though, you've had your... 'Taste'... Do not let it kill you."

The power bestowed sought to twist the man from within -- Powers that were never meant to be introduced to mankind, and hardly tempered to permanently settle within his circuitry. Though, perhaps the 'kick' would awaken their ability to cast.

"That pain... That iota of spite within you... Let it take control. Feel the wrath and inner machinations take their toll. They will be your guide through the depths I offer."

Smiles emerged from the grotesque mouths abroad, eyes gazing upon them both.
"I must say I'm impressed. Though, first things first... I have requirements for my aid unto you. The land above remains a mystery to me, and you two, are mobile. Venture out there, and report to me what lies above. It is then, that I shall ensure you know my Oath... Followed by who holds my grimoire."
(Terminus)
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[17:11] The blood coming out of her left eye socket was starting to make her dizzy, as she listened to the chanting of the wall. The voices in her head joining along in silent prayer. Tearing a strip of cloth from her sleeve, she bound it over her eye in an effort to stop the bleeding.

However her task was simple enough, find news of the world. As simple as breathing if you knew how and who to ask.

"You will shall be done."
(Syrta)
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[17:12] It took a moment for him to register the instructions, it didn't matter what kind of life he had before this all that mattered was what he planned to do with his life going forward.


"I renounce the part of me that makes many
I renounce the part of me that seeks bloodshed
for I will never bleed again
I renounce my bloodlust for I will never be blinded by flesh
I renounce that which makes me mortal for I join the undying."

Everything he renounced is what made him human, and once humanity is stripped from him there is nothing left but an empty carcass of what's left. It's in this state that makes a human moldable, in this state is why people claim humans are just as evil.

He renounced it all to walk a path laid out before him, a path where there seems to be no end and yet there is much to gain from following orders. He begins to repeat everything he renounced once again.


"I renounce the part of the that makes me many,
I must let the voice guide me
I renounce the part of me that seeks bloodshed
For I will never bleed again."

He takes one of the jagged rocks and jabs it into his abdomen just then a tendril wrapped around his form. The boy didn't fight it; he allowed the smallest amount of demonic energy to affect his circuits.

There is a saying 'be careful what you ask for' the thoughts begin to cloud his mind, it hurts and yet he seemed to climb closer and closer to what he believed was his goal.

it burned, what was this pain? He continued getting closer and closer trying to reach it. It felt as if the world was holding him back, and yet he pushed forward.

He fell to the ground and what covered his body was the burning flame of the occult, the demonic energy. The burns were terrible, the creams were loud, and the power that came with it felt amazing.

No sane person would ever seek to obtain this power, and that's why the world was ruled by the insane.
(Calypso)
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[18:03]
{LOAD GAME}

[18:09] A pause in surprise, communicated with a quizzical hum.

"Perhaps, I underestimated your devotion to my vision." Its voice cooed, "That... Or you truly are hellbent to see your endeavors come to fruition." Tendrils pointed for the exit.

"No matter... The world above still must be explored, understood so that I may make the proper guidance for you both.

I require the information that follows...

I know we are on an island, away from the mainland. I wish to know what they call the settlement on the surface." The Terminal stirred, "Then, the Centricon shall be bestowed unto you both. Whom carries it matters not to me, for either of your contributions in my name, strengthens my connection to it."

"Once you have relayed to me, what land I lie under... Go out, and fetch me the material necessary to conduct a ritual of ascension. I trust you both will have greater odds of merit in each other's company."
(Terminus)
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[18:16] He stood it seems they were being tasked with something of the utmost importance. If only for a moment he'd need to contain himself to get the information request from Terminus.

"Information is what you seek, that is something I can acquire with ease, but what kind of materials should we bring back? I'm sure they won't be difficult to find."

The surface could be a dangerous place if they weren't careful, and after everything that's transpired they needed to approach each situation carefully for the time being.

"We will be hasty with our return."

He proclaimed.
(Calypso)
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[18:22] Her task received, she nodded. Find the islands name and return. A simple enough task all things considered.

"It should be a short trip, this island isn't very large all things considered."

It was the truth, it was definitely one of the small islands out on the sea.
Looking over to her comrade in arms, she nodded to him before turning to leave. The sooner she finished this the sooner she could get to her plans.
(Syrta)
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[18:25] "Materials? Ah, yes... You wish to become of the Marked.

They are as follows...

Three bounds of Sinka…
Three bounds of Amber...
One Fire Crystal forged of the living...
One Water Crystal forged of the living...
One Earth Crystal...
One Air Crystal...
And finally, one Lightning Crystal...

Bring these to me, and I will invoke the instructions of the ritual unto you." The Terminal instructed, "This is to be explained by my grimoire when you return. Do be hasty in your endeavor. The sooner I understand the surface, the sooner I may pave the way for your growth as need be."
(Terminus)
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[18:28] He takes a mental note of everything needed.

"
Three bounds of Sinka
Three bounds of Amber
One Fire Crystal forged of the living
One Water Crystal forged of the living
One Earth Crystal
One Air Crystal
And finally, one Lightning Crystal"

After repeating it to himself he nods several times, "Is that altogether or separate?"
(Calypso)
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[18:29] Terminus says, "That, is altogether."
[18:30] Calypso nods
(Calypso)
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[18:33] Syrta says, "I shall return shortly."
[18:47] Syrta returned the second time coming in, seeming far easier than the first time. Could it be because she was being welcomed back, she did not know.

"I return with the information you requested, the island we rest upon is called Black Rose Island, and is currently governed by a merchant, Silas Effret. There are three buildings and a singular tent on the surface."

Concise, clear, and to the point, as all reports should be. Her comrade was probably still outside doing the same thing. At least she had managed to stop bleeding out of her eye, although the fabric covering her eye was coated in her own blood.
(Syrta)
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[19:04]
{LOAD GAME}

[19:07] "Silas Effret." The creature echoed, "Learn more about this one. As much as one can. I must know of all of this island's inhabitants."
His reborn had seemingly vanished, likely to seek out the ingredients asked of him.

"Ensure that my reborn is successful in their search for the ritual ingredients. Calypso must not be allowed to perish... Thus, I am entrusting you with my grimoire. Have him return to me, so that I may conduct the ritual of the Marked on you both, and dub you no longer as candidates... But those of proven potential."

From the flesh-wall spawned the book from before: The Centricon Of The Reborn -- It pulsated as vilely as it did prior.

"Do not fail me... As others before you have."
(Terminus)
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[19:12] "I shall take care in looking into him. I think I know exactly where to start the search to."

As for reborn, she nodded. Keep him alive until the his task was finished, easy enough done. Gingerly taking the Centricon in her hands, she carefully stowed it on her person, out of sight and mind from all but the most determined on onlookers.

"You will shall be done."
(Syrta)