The Ritual

[21:07] There was always a method to how Bruno operated. He enjoyed when things worked out with efficiency and with an examplary simplicity. For such to be attained everything had to be in place, everything had to be perfect. And so, to draw out the most of his inner darkness he needed to find the area most appropriate for a ritual that was so... horrible. One that inspired death itself. One that would put his own life at risk.

The sewers were his choice when it came to it, but further understanding of their layout provided him with something greater than a mere spot in the deepest undergrounds of Esshar, more than mere darkness.

He brought Amelia down what seemed to be a neverending waterfall, an abyssal maw that awaited them down a cliff. Deep, unparalleled darkness. By the time they arrived in Bruno's chosen location for this ritual they may just both be drenched. Stinking with the scent of death and decay mixed in with the sewer's natural odor. An altar which stood above murky waters was the perfect location.

The most horrible place Bruno could think of. His expression showed as much, too.

"What is the cube for?" He finally asked, readying himself for a horrible, horrifying time.
(Bruno pyr Aertas)
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[21:17] Upon the presence of the sewage system's oppressively pungent aura, the older Aertas would merely present a disgruntled expression as the two sunk deeper and deeper into the belly of the bloated beast.

The general muck and gunk upon her was only... her first irritated problem. The second likely was the utter unnerving presence and aura of this general area. It was much like being in a womb if anything.

If the womb was that of an imperfect demon.

Pulling her cube out, the only way forward to rid herself of this surrounding was to get it over with. But even that itself was an added set of pressured thoughts that pushed Amelia to not fail under any circumstances.

"This cube?" She clarifies as pink hues fall upon it. "I will show you."

Tapping specific tiles upon it, the faintest glow of runes would suddenly begin to light up in an incomprehensible sequence. It seemed to ebb away from Amelia's usual magitech items and toward something... more archaic and antique.

As the final glyph is activated, the cube suddenly unfurls. Orbits of spinning runes would circle around the cube; each glyph almost looking to be as old as time, older than that of any history books upon the oldest of libraries.

It drifted and floated before Amelia. Though its contents is likely indecipherable to all, it would be odd to find that Amelia looked somewhat unperturbed by this. It was as if she understood what was written clearly.

"This is... my primary guide," she remarks.
(Amelia Locke pyr Aertas)
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[21:31] Bruno watched as the cube shifted and twisted open, revealing a number of runes that could hardly be read. These were not anything like what the man had ever worked with. He assumed that it would be essential in Amelia aiding him in this horrifying, horrible quest for power. How selfish of him to delve this deep in a cold and wet mess only to reach into the darkest, deepest parts of his soul to draw what few had ever drawn:

Unlimited power.

The Aertas gave a small nod towards his sister before he reached up over his shoulder, pulling Final Answer up and setting it aside. Who knows what this weapon of immense power could do in these conditions? His focus was instead laid upon the artifact he retrieved from his person: The Spirit Catcher. A dreamcatcher looking artifact that was capable of holding in spirits and souls alike, once used by the Coven of Atl to perform horrifying rituals, and now? Kept upon Bruno's person for many, many different uses.

The dreamcatcher was reached out and laid down upon the altar right where Bruno would soon be sitting.

"This will draw my soul towards it and attempt to trap it when it is severed from me. Using its attraction and controlling it so that it does not absorb away my existence is going to be your job. It will aid in the... manipulation of my soul. Due to its physical nature you should be able to gauge the intensity of the pull as well, though I fully expect you to be able to hold my soul within my body."

Expectations that were laid higher than anything else. Higher than any other. He saw his siblings as descendants of the divine as well, after all. If there was anyone who was capable of defying nature and life itself it was the three of them— for Cyril was no longer their sibling. How ironic that all of their pursues touched on different aspects of life, yet all of them remaining incredibly defiant towards it. The Aertas were something else.

A breath is soon taken by Bruno as he moves to seat himself down upon the altar, allowing for the horrible, disgusting waters to splash right against him. Drenching him. Horrible. But it was needed— required for him to be at his worst.

"Do you have anything to say before we begin?"

This was an insane plan. An insane ritual. Only a madman would agree to taking up such a risk only for a shot at power. And it seemed occult magic had finally seized over Bruno's mind completely after years of growing worse and worse. Blue eyes rose up to meet with pink hues and dread made itself felt as occult energies danced about his frame.
(Bruno pyr Aertas)
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[21:31] {Item} You drop Spirit Catcher.
[21:41] Her gloved fingers were already hard at work putting together cyphers and runes from the cube. As if she were doing a few last minute readings over the subject of souls, the knowledge that the Dhumavati Cube contained.

Her eyes did their best to focus as adrenaline and sweat began to exude and join the filthy waters upon her skin. Though Bruno needed to be at his worst, it would seem that Amelia herself was found to be in a similar state.

Muck and grime? Partnered with partaking in something she was a merely practitioner in? Right upon her brother who had an unnerving chance of falling to death if this ritual found itself a failure?

It was no wonder why exhaustion was swiftly rising upon her.

Taking the Spirit Catcher, she could merely glance over it. An impeding sense of welled up stress coalesced within her. And for the first time in years, an old emotional friend cropped up—fear.

A piercing glance is provided to Bruno upon taking uphis own position. If it were not for the dripping sewage that splashed upon the two of them, he—and surprisingly Amelia herself—likely would have noticed tears.

"Just... please. Do. Not. Die." She remarks. Perhaps a stupid set of last few words, yet she practically had her focus divided between reading upon the cube of knowledge, handling the ritual, and pushing back unneeded thoughts. So perhaps it was a slip worth giving off just this once.
(Amelia Locke pyr Aertas)
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[21:53] "Death is for others. Not myself."

The words that escaped his lips were not served with the same kindness and love as the ones Amelia displayed. The tears that ran down her eyes and the chill in her heart were nothing more than secondary to the fear that almost overwhelmed her. This place was horrible, far, far too horrible for Bruno to die in.

And yet, he would risk it. He would risk everything he had for naught but an ounce of power, to reach heights few had ever reached and rise above humanity, ascending to a level of divinity.

The words he had given his sister were not the one a brother gave, but a man who'd long lost his sanity, a man who believed himself to be so talented that he could push the boundaries of death itself, of manipulation of the soul, the boundaries of life. For he was meant to.

As was his sister.

A deep breath is soon taken before Bruno's eyes affix themselves upon his sister's expression. The despair, the sadness, the pain within her was something that he cared about despite the words that had been spoken. He may be insane but a monster? No, he was no monster. Her pain fueled him further, in fact. The mere thought that Anastasia had no idea of this happening, that neither of their children would understand if he died then and there in the pursuit of power was more and more pain that Bruno created with his own hand. More pain that he could use to empower his occult prowess. And so it all began.

... with a scream.

A horrifying scream coming from the man who always had kept his composure and his calm. An ear-piercing scream that came as his own energies began attacking past his body, past his mind, past his heart, past even his spirit. Occult forces were crashing against the barrier that protected his soul as it struggled, as it desired not to be harmed in any way whatsoever.

Fists were clenched. Teeth came to a grit. His entire body began trembling as moreof his voice escaped him, eventually leading to him falling down on the cold stone, twisting and turning, torturing himself as he delved further and further into the very composition of himself as a living being; the soul was essential for one to go on.

.. And yet, with a clear SNAP did Bruno's blue eyes go wide. Then pale. And he stopped moving. Completely. His soul had been severed from him, threatening to leave his body. To leave this world.

How ironic that the purest manifestation of occult magic, its most selfish trait would require another to feasibly be attained.

The Aertas could only hope his sister was going to play her part.
(Bruno pyr Aertas)
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[22:07] Normally the composed older sister, she would present a different face upon this odd scenario she found herself in.

Snapping into focus as she flinches from her brother's bloodcurdling scream, her hands almost slip the Spirit Catcher from her grasps. She fumbles, almost causing it to fall and sink into the murky waters that her feet waded in.

Yet through sudden movements and quick reaction speeds, her hands would swat the item from the air, pushing it back to her holdings as a resounding thud would suddenly have the older Aertas turn back.

Her eyes drain of her own life force as the sheer sight of her brother lifeless upon the stone platform made her stomach churn and arms tremble.

With a flustered set of movements, she turns back to the cube, hastily looking through before moving to her brother's side.

Her left hand falls upon his forehead while the right moved to sit right where his heart was. In a sudden influx of whirring mana, electricity would begin to spark, fizzling around her arms before slowly surging into that of Bruno's.

His own circuits would begin to be flooded, not by the waters from the sewage, but from Amelia's own untainted mana. Each crevice of the younger Aertas' mana circuits are utterly fueled and covered as Amelia's attempt begins.

It would seem she knew more than what was expected, for she did not look onward in the ether realm for his escaping soul. No. She turned to the bowels that shifted to a place she has been close to visiting—Hel.

In this scape of outer-bodiness, it takes a single heartbeat for Amelia would reach out with her own mana, attempting to pull her brother's soul back.

Yet as she reached out... she was an inch too far.
(Amelia Locke pyr Aertas)
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[22:11] Until the soul suddenly jerks backward. The Spirit Catcher's own influence suddenly whirrs to life. The disappearing soul of Brunoe would shift and fall right upon Amelia's grasps as a pungent headache begins to roll over her head.

A violent yank is brought from her manifested ethereal arms as Bruno's soul of be brought back to its place.

Electricity zooms outward as a sudden jolt of lightning—much like that of a defibrillator—would roll over Bruno's mind and heart.

A sudden surge aimed to bring him back would push the older Aertas back. Wincing from the pain of overexertion just from that singular attempt alone.
(Amelia Locke pyr Aertas)
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[22:19] Everything was so... cold. So empty. Never had he imagined death to be this cold. This barren. He was lost within this feeling. Even the void had more warmth to it than Azrael's embrace. The moments in which complete and utter darkness filled his world were brief in reality, yet all too long to his perception. He'd floated for oh-so-long in this sea of darkness before he recognized himself returning once more. Body and soul united against, pulsed to life by a bright blue light. A miracle by all means. A ritual that no human should ever take, and even fewer should ever pursue any further.

A loud inhale pierced through the tears and the headaches caused by his decision. Blue eyes laid upon his panicked sister who finally seemed to have acted out, to have saved him from complete and utter ruin. From death. She had defied such and brought his soul back from heading straight down to Hel.

Emotions were running at an all-time high, and following that breath of life that brought light into his eyes he screamed again. This time words.

"IT HURTS! IT HURTS SO FUCKING MUCH!"

He twisted a bit, clenching his fists, stating his heart's truth in a manner far more similar to Ryker's own lack of inhibition. But at this point Bruno could hardly care for anything else but this objective of his. His anger and his pain further empowered him, it forced him to realize that he was far, far from done.

"Again!"

This was the only warning he gave Amelia before the occult flames that danced about his frame grew wilder, brighter, like a lion's roar they kissed the ceiling before completely dying out on the spot. A loud scream of incomprehensible nonsense.

Snap.
Splat.

And once more did Bruno sever his connection with his own soul, effectively killing himself in hopes Amelia's experience would grow, in hopes she could seize his soul before it grew too cold, keeping it in his body and in check for him to repeat the process.

As many times as it would take.

So long as he did not feel that disturbance he would not stop.
(Bruno pyr Aertas)
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[22:31] As a second time would occur, a desperate attempt would be done once more. Her hands fumble, taking the same position as before. One to the forehead, another to his heart.

Pulsating electricity would once again course through as her ethereal embrace would pull her brother's soul back into place.

And each and every haphazard success would her brother repeat the cycle.

There would be plenty of close calls. The Spirit Catcher failing to pull her brother's soul back. Her utter drained mana causing her to take a pause for a few seconds longer than she had hoped to, and a few times her own brother coming back into consciousness a few seconds too late than expected.

Each time that Amelia would have to witness her own brother taking his own life somewhat began to put a toll on her. Each time she pulls his soul back pushed her further into exhaustion. And each time the cycle repeated itself, the closer Amelia grew to becoming... numb.

Part way through the ritual, her eyes would have fallen into an aloof half-open state. Bright pink hues merely stare forward as drone like movements would come through from Amelia.

It was as if she was in auto-pilot. An utter lack of character, life, or any semblance of being human would take the forefront from the Aertas.

It was all down to her own uses that came through as the integral.
(Amelia Locke pyr Aertas)
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[22:41] With each subsequent death came more pain. Between screams, visions of nothing, and the cold embrace of death Bruno's own sanity seemed to slip further away. Humans were never meant to defy death in such a way, let alone cheat it through manipulation of the soul.

And with each piece of him that was chipped away, a piece of Amelia was stripped from her heart. Any and all semblance of humanity was robbed away from her, her innocence stolen by her own brother due to his grand ideas of ascending, of pushing himself further.

Numb. Cold. As cold as death itself.

The ritual was one that claimed only one had to die repeatedly, yet it was evident that Bruno pyr Aertas had murdered his sister in the process of forcing her to drain herself, to exhaust herself emotionally and physically. While all he did was demand more. Request more. Need more.

Forty-three.

It took forty-three attempts at his own life before Bruno felt that disturbance, that dissonance within his very soul. A complete shake of his sister that made him feel as if something had changed after so many times, as if his whole body was born with a new life, a new... existence to itself. Rapid breaths escaped him and a crazed smile traced itself upon his lips.

He needed to try. To perform. To see if it had worked. His right hand reached out towards Amelia. And the tension rose. And the bone-chilling cold settled upon her. The intensity with which he seemed to be directing his intent towards her was palpable. Terrifying.

And just as he reached out, just as he grasped upon the now-dirty, damp, yellow jacket of hers he finally seemed to exhaust himself. He hardly had the mana to push this fate upon another, let alone the heart to do it to his sister.

Even if in a bout of madness he considered it.

A small tug finally was brought, and for one of the rare times in his life Bruno pulled Amelia closer. Death had been so, so cold. Evenwith her support, with her touch, with her constant efforts to bring him back it remained the most terrifying thing he'd ever felt.

Bruno hugged his sister.

Tightly. So much so that the effort he put into it drove him to complete physical exhaustion. Eyes went shut, breath grew silent, yet... his heart was beating this time around. He hadn't died this time around.

Whether or not it had been a success was left to see, but it took no words for the man to show how thankful he was for having a sister so... understanding.

So strong.

... So useful.
(Bruno pyr Aertas)
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[22:41] {Item} You picked up Spirit Catcher. Dropped by Bruno pyr Aertas..
[22:49] Drooped eyes were sluggishly replied. Despite her current countenance, it was clear that exhaustion has taken a maddened toll upon the older Aertas.

Mannequin-like eyes has glossily stared forward. What was found to be a complete contrast to the worrywart that began the ritual, the one that ended it seemed like a completely different person.

Her arms merely slacked to her side. Whether that did not rise to recompensate the embrace due to exhaustion or another external reason was likely up for debate.

By the end of it all, everything needed felt... dull. The world seemed less appealing. It was as if a switch has found itself trigged and utterly snapped; forced into a singular position.

"Are we done?" She questions. Her neutral tone felt a bit more... cold. Colder than she normally exhibited.
(Amelia Locke pyr Aertas)
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[22:51] Bruno took a few more moments before a silent nod was offered. They were done. For now. Were this to be a failure he likely would force her hand again, though for her to accept was... unlikely. Still, the man was exhausted, hurt, and hoping for warmth and a lack of... wetness.

Soon enough they would be traveling back home. In complete. Utter. Silence.
(Bruno pyr Aertas)