Terminus: Theory Of The Branding Mark

[19:28] How the mind did wander...
To transcend beyond a meager ascension ritual, surely one would have to theorize beyond the use of X-fluid... They had to work a means of augmenting anatomy. Knowledge over general human anatomy allowed for him to understand the different parts... To scribe runic inscriptions to invoke commands upon the organs with his own magic? This, was nothing beyond his capacity...

But to push them beyond their ordinary limits, for a prolonged period of time? This, proved troublesome. Though, perhaps it was because the Demon Patron was only thinking of the system in a one-sided fashion. Thus far, he sought to mark the bodies of those he intended to empower... But to mark them? Didn't give anything beyond what was already within their capacity.

Nay... He needed to mark himself.
It made so much sense now...
The pacts he had conjured up until now:
Zen Sa-Ryung.
Selenite.
Dagon Terminus.
Yuri Misho.
Sirgurd.
Erenthius Meeksworth.
Akaza, now Aldorin of Terminus.
Retsuki.
Such pacts lacked true weight, only truly consisting of a small iota's worth of their mana. Perhaps, it wasn't much... But what residual he clung unto was finally about to see its use.

"Perhaps, you held some truth in your claim, Orfeas…"
An homage to a human? How rare...
"I was strictly under the presumption that all mana would bolster my capabilities... You claimed I had a limit. In a sense, I suppose you were right... I simply failed to acknowledge how to rectify such discrepancy.

… To rectify my condition..."
He was pulling it up to the surface, once brooding in his natural form, he extended his lower-left and lower-right hands before himself, prying forth the amalgam of mixed mana to his upper-arms. He could feel their presences meshing, melding, merging to become anew, as he mulled over those long, lost lessons in necromancy...
The Litany of Undeath
He recounted aloud - "The creation of new rituals follow the same principles of Occult Geometry. What were the numbers again..." They mulled to themselves...

"One to initiate the ritual..." The essence of Zen, as sparse and vague as it was, manifested to the surface of his upper-right hand. There was refinement in directing mana within his own body, allowing him to compress the conjuration to naught but a miniature spheroid at his pinky finger. When drawing forth the essence of their offered mana, the memory of how one came to acquire it came to the forefront. The very first attempt to instate his claim of a deity - a service amongst the grounds of Varseia, claiming to heal them in exchange for mana. The beginning of his new claim on the surface... The beginning of his attempt to pursue his route after of his long-term plots having failed thus far... Fitting that such mana pried forth, would initiate the ritual in the end.

"Two, to scribe of its purpose..." The same process wrought forth the essence provided by Selenite so long ago. These were the days he had haunted Varseia. The 'blessings' he cast upon them demanded payment in mana. A payment that he had been saving until he had theorized the proper utilization of their boons unto the aspiring deity.

"Such purpose: The empowerment of my subjects, and any abroad desiring to succumb to their lusts for power... In turn, I shall take from them a greater part of their mana, through a bond forever fusing mine to theirs. With this mark I shall imbue, all touched by it -- shall become lesser parts for me."
To think, the purpose behind the healing he bestowed that day was to disarm the humanity within his immediate wake. To allow them to accept himenough to bolster his power further than those damned to survival of the fittest. He lacked everything that demons that played out such a role harbinged... It was a wonder he hadn't perished yet. As pathetic as he was? Luck was on his side... Fate smiled upon him.

Next, the swelling of energies from within the abomination insinuated a greater boon. One provided by an entity of the deepest depths of Meranthe - dubbed in his baptism by Terminus' blood. Now known as 'Dagon Terminus', champion of Terminus' followers. The mana from their payment proved greater than the rest, likely imbalanced towards the ritual as a whole. Terminus gave it some consideration, before carrying out nonetheless...

"Three... To ensure the success of the ritual." The shine of magus light against Terminus' face revealed a grotesque grin -- in this moment, he could imagine what atrocities he could enable through his hand. In this moment, he could writhe in the thought of finally being powerful enough to punish those who dared to torment, humiliate, degrade, or even slaughter himself or his kin with reckless abandon...
(Terminus)
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[19:34] Whether in the current age...
Or a century ago -- It was long overdue as far as he was concerned.

"Four... To bring about stability to the ritual..."
The mana wrought from yet another payment was swelling up to the surface. Yuri Misho - a magi desperate to help someone in need, willing enough to make a payment of their mana to the entity without realization of what he contributed towards. In the end, the very help he requested wasn't even followed through with.

A shame, in their lack of follow-through, they would unwittingly ensure that Terminus' ritual would indeed not follow the same fate. A tale of confusion and obliviousness -- treachery and reckless disregard for potential consequences.

"And Five... Ambition..." The last portion indicated by the Litany was vague, though... Perhaps, it was enough. The mana pried up, to illuminate the final digit on his open upper-right hand, would be from Sirgurd's mana offering...

What justified such, was a burning not unlike Terminus' own...
A drive... A motivation... A burning desire to see the current age end, once and for all...
Perhaps, he was the key all along? The last part of the puzzle that Terminus sought out for, constantly.

There were others, but it wasn't time to use their mana payments yet.
The five points on one's open upper-right hand glimmered with mana, lowering for his lower-left palm, still stretched out, fingers splayed.

"It has been a long time coming... Vana'rath... Orfeas... I suppose in the end, you have served your roles in my existence. With this? Everything changes..." The five points make contact with his flesh, acting akin to pen-points with the fingers all moving independent of one another -- careful as to not bump into each other with their simultaneous scribing. Each marking was made with intent...
Each leyline, encircling, and runic symbol...

"In order to mark those I seek to empower, I shall use your payments upon my flesh to properly evoke a ritual through my own blood... Through my own heritage... For there is power in demonology. I was never a cup, Orfeas... No, I was manifested as a Demon... I lack a limit to be filled towards. In climbing to a threshold, I evolve... Thus," He pulled his scribing hand away to reveal the still-glowing lower-left palm.
"What I am able to achieve..." He stirred, marveling in his works despite the singing burn...
"What I am able to acquire?" He funneled the remaining payments...
Of Erenthius Meeksworth...
Of Akaza, turned Aldorin of Terminus...
Of Retsuki, through the marked arm, beneath the runic inscriptions... Allowing their collective mana to complete the draft from within. Through his circuitry their collective energies would burn, until they'd singe through the flesh -- connecting the raw circuitry with the markings of his rituals thus far.

A pulsation!
Akin to electricity being enabled to traverse freely through a circuit? The insignia's glow proved self-sufficient now!
"Is truly divine..."

Though, it left one to wonder...
If such was the case... Did he still need to pry someone open to mark them? Was the heart still necessary?
The mind mulled over the subject, truly giving it further thought.

Surely, this couldn't be all there was...
But up until now? He was only thinking of one-third of the puzzle...
Then, theorized up until the second...
It was only until recently that it had simply clicked.

...Perhaps, fate would continue to smile on him...
For there was much more work to do.
(Terminus)
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