Terminus: Centricon-Reborn 6

[04:19] Syrta says, "Patron, I have returned."
[05:37] Terminus says, "So, you have, Marked One."
[05:49] Entering the familiar cave, Syrta kneeled in the center of the room, bowing her head in respect to her patron. She had finished the task of gathering the materials for the greater ascension, and seemed to have healed from most of her injuries from prior rituals.

The blindfold over her eyes reeked of magic, something a medic from the deephold had crafted, one that knew how to keep their mouth shut more importantly, as she could see outlines at this point in the dim lighting.

"My Patron, I have return with all the necessary materials for the ritual of greater ascension. I have no excuse for making you wait this long to see it completed."

Truth be told, she might have taken much longer had she not resorted to simple purchasing things from people.

"Also it appears one of the residents on this land, a male by the sounds of it, is particularly volatile. We should exercise caution a bit more."
(Syrta)
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[05:58] The walls carried wounds now... Scars of something that passed through there months ago. Had she the capacity to gaze upon them, she'd find three-clawed markings marring the length of the halls she walked. The majority of the damage had been regenerated since... Though, scars always remained. There was a taint of foreign occult mana still imbued upon him, lingering in the air like a stubborn sickness.

Syrta was recognized before she announced herself; her presence well recalled by the way she walked...
The space her body took within her cavern...
The mana signature the Demon Patron could vaguely sense.

"It has been some time. Given Calypso is not with you, I take it he is also seeking out material as you were?" It inquired, less so requiring an answer, and moreso speaking aloud a possibility. It carried on, with or without an answer--

"Residents. Elaborate - I am only aware of a 'Silas Effret. What of the others..."
(Terminus)
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[06:04] "I will be honest, his movements are not known to me. I am not aware of his location or actions since the last time we both were here."

The feeling of foreign mana was readily enough felt to the Ursidae, her passive nature of consuming the mana around her already giving her notice something else had been here. As to what had transpired she had no idea.

"The one on the top left of the island. Paranoid, seemed to be hiding something. Given the fact I am not yet strong enough, I more or less talked my way out of it. He gave me no name, so he received none in return."

By all accounts that man was almost as insane as she was. But she might have him beat there, after all, he probably wouldn't pluck his own eyes out in the pursuit of power.
(Syrta)
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[06:10]
{LOAD GAME}

[06:14] Some silence to mull on the subject and the Demon Patron considered the matter at hand. No doubt that if such an individual were to catch their attention, they were likely of magus nature. Truly, they could’ve posed a threat. If not on their own potency, then via reaching out to the nearby islands… Or worse, the mainland.

"If they are alone, they are likely not as potent as the others. Magus ilk tend to associate with others of their battle potential. The exceptions tend to have numbers to gaggle at their persons, or sport unique apparel and weaponry." The analysis was dated, based on the vague images it could still pry from its younger stages.

"You will be grown into a worthy vessel. Though, all the same, the surface dwellers will keep pace. It is up to you to better infiltrate their ranks... Earn their trust, and either turn their attention to the mainland as to prevent their further intervention... Or ensure they are properly converted." There was no reason to draw too much concern on a single human that seemingly did not carry a title nor connections to their person.
(Terminus)
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[06:25] "By your will Patron."

They had spoken and that was that. The rest would simply be gathering news of the mainland, of which she did have something to share. Something of import actually.

"I also bring news. It seems the mainland is about to truly wage war. From what I hear every island or nation is gearing up for a war footing for a battle at some point today. Their target is the Deephold, where as the Deephold simply seeks to annihilate them."

Apocalyptic warfare was about to arrive, and thankfully, they were just far enough out of the way to avoid it. However the outcomes would be rather deciding in nature.
(Syrta)
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[06:37] "Waged war? The mortal man will do what it may to further snuff itself out. It is simply human nature." It deduced. Though, the clarification came... Thus, correction was substituted with affirmation of another perspective.

"Deephold. I can't say I'm familiar with the name. It must be something erected in my time here. Though, it does prove that they are distracted by the mass. Once they are finished with such a matter, it should not come to question that they will likely prove more threatening here. All the more reason to deal with our residential issue." That, was that...

Surely, more problems to deal with... Less time...
If only he could buy it, how he would buy it all.

"Now... As to the true nature of your arrival. You had arrived with that of reagents for the ascension ritual? Carry out with the instructions... I will provide what mediums you require."

The floor quivered somewhat, ebbing like a muscle being flexed. A mound swelled upright, indenting at its topside to emulate an oversized cup: A flesh-basin. The construct was more fluid in development than before, less conjured and moreso re-flexed into being.

"Proceed."
(Terminus)
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[06:46] {Item} You picked up Poppylus x53. Dropped by Syrta.
[06:46] {Item} You picked up Fire Crystal x100. Dropped by Syrta.
[06:46] {Item} You picked up Azilaena. Dropped by Syrta..
[06:46] {Item} You picked up Firefly x150. Dropped by Syrta.
[06:46] {Item} You picked up Ky'iah x5. Dropped by Syrta.
[06:46] {Item} You picked up Lightning Crystal. Dropped by Syrta..
[06:56] Stepping towards the now presented basin, the thoughts on how to deal with the residents of the island temporarily put on hold, Syrta began to pour the ingredients into the basin, including the optional ones. After all, why half ass it when you have the means to do the whole thing.

The ingredients now inside the basin, the Ursidae would bite her finger, her teeth opening a cut in them, which she proceeded to let bleed into the basin, before pouring out a blackout potion shortly there after for it.

Three steps done, and five to go.

Projecting her occultic mana into the basin, unsure of the amount, but she decided to go for a noticeable amount, but not a draining level of output. Now came the hard part, as she stared into the basin for a moment, the sloshing contents smelling of a foul drink. Still, a passing a thought all the same, as Syrta began to drink the contents of the basin. Much like it smelled, the taste was arguably worse.

The contents drank, her stomach churning in response to such abuse, as she struggled to keep it all down, a hand was raise to manifest the Centricon of The End, the pulsating fleshbound tome now opening.

"Potentia tua aeterna videre. Transi, ac frange fines tuos!"

The words spoken, Syrta began to work the potion like fluid through her body, dropping to her knees in a howl of agony as she felt her body start to unravel and remake itself. It was her own will that kept the girl conscious, feeling several bones fracture under the new found muscles that were forming around them, the miasma of profound and deep suffering radiating off of them like heat from a forge.

But the ritual was complete, all that remained was to live through the process.
(Syrta)
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[07:14] {Item} You drop Blackout.
[07:23] The flesh-basin was prepared, reagents and all.
The blood of the initiator, spilt within it.
The ingredients to procure the necessary blackout potion-fluid were taken into the basin as well. Surely, they were expected to be converted into blackout fluid first... However, the product could still be salvaged, it'd simply require more palpable effort. Not to mention, there appeared to be another blackout potion present poured over the current mixture.

Eyes of the Terminal seeminglynarrowed on this detail, yet no words bellowed out to the initiator... Not yet.
'Potentia tua aeterna videre. Transi, ac frange fines tuos!'
Eyes of the Terminal widened once more, finding themselves honed upon the initator in recognition. The maws of the many parted to speak in response.

"To ascend... That is the desire. Though, you call upon powers to bless that, which isn't. Naturally, such commemoration... dictates... two... I only see one." The Demon Patron had called upon its perceived discrepancy. For a ritual of this matter would call for two to cast it, for the words she spoke... Spoke for the ascension of another...

Another, that wasn't that there.

Tendrils loomed closer to the basin, hovering over. The eyes gazed down upon her... And the telekinetic radiance of magnitudes unparalleled by mankind en mass took hold of her form. Arms, legs and body entangled in a faceless force, drawing her upwards. The body could act as though it were in freefall, taken by the buoyancy of aquatic depths yet the atmosphere felt benign... Weightless.

The foul tasting substance was likely sitting in their stomach with a notable weight to it, as though uncomfortably weighing it down.

"Imperfection, is not a subject I take kindly to. Failure is not a matter I accept. Mercy... Such, is a frivolous thing. As fragile as a vase, cast to its side at a table's fringe... So solid and stable, should it never be swayed.

Your table's legs are wobbly, Marked One… Your imperfections quiver at it, every day." The Terminal monologued, "... But... Just this once, I offer you it. For I intend to act upon the opportunity you present. Your latent potential...

Your drive... You... Exude... Purpose. A rare, quality trait I'd rather not see..." The weight in her stomach would slowly, but assuredly be lifted. "...squandered."

A tight tug of both arms and legs stretched them out, spreading her apart akin to someone on the verge of being quartered. Yet, the tension seemed to die short of dislocating joints from limb. The leathery wry of flesh strained upon itself sounded out. There was something else... The substance she consumed, being forcibly manipulated through her body. What may not have been noticed, was that by simply committing to the ritual within the Terminal's flesh basin, the substance was already tainted by his occultic mana.

He forcible stretched open capillaries, blackening the vascular leylines across her body. It burned, fizzling at the mana circuitry all the same. Though, it was hardly without merit. The flesh beneath the skin began to warp and flesh, bubble even. The muscle was being worked in an accelerated fashion: matters that mortal bodies were not supposed to transmogrify in.

The ritual was still underway, though it begged the question... Did Syrta have the willpower to power through this, as others had in the past?
(Terminus)
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[07:24] {Item} You drop Power X x21.
[07:27] {Won Restrained RPB against Syrta}
[07:30] ** Terminus has inflicted an injury upon Syrta. ("Severe Ritualistic Warping", "Excessive amounts of X-fluid were forcibly kneaded through your circuitry. Muscles have abruptly flexed in such a way that lead to unusually fast growth in a very short period of time. Bones have suffered microfractures that ultimately ache when overused. Drowsiness may set in, to allow the body to heal and adapt to the newly acquired surge of power.", "Temporary", "Duration: Medium (4 days)") **
[07:31] {Item} You drop Power X x1.
[07:37] A critical mistake noticed to late. One she now paid for as she was lifted and restrained, her body recrafted and forced into forms it was not meant to move or bend into. The fact she was held in the air during the process just made it worse to feel, as she couldn't even dig her fingers into the ground as an escape.

Still as her patron exacted their vengeance upon her flesh for her own ignorance, the light of sheer undeniable will still glowed from them. She would see the path to its end, one way or another. Even if it hurt like high Hel to get there.

When this ritual came again, she would know her mistakes, and not make them again. This ritual was one for another, not for a self, but her own selfish desire for power drove her further onwards. As she felt her skin bubble and weep as it reformed, further howls of raw agony escaping her, distorted and altered every so often from the potions working through her. It was like listening to a bear getting cut apart while it was still alive and very conscious.
(Syrta)
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[09:16] {Item} You drop Power X x5.
[11:34] Terminus has placed Cylion into the chest.
[11:34] Terminus has placed Lava Key into the chest.
[11:34] Terminus has placed Replenishment Potion into the chest.
[14:34] {Item} You drop Poppylus x1.
[14:34] {Item} You picked up Poppylus. Dropped by Terminus..
[14:36] Terminus has placed Fire Crystal (x5) into the chest.
[21:36] {Item} You drop Power X x23.
[21:44] Pain... Suffering... It was the natural boon of humanity - Nay, existence. Reality was unforgiving to any and all who took to the living in his midst. Mishaps or not, there truly managed to be no additional consequence aside from the warning of the Terminal.

What transpired, managed to be the X-fluid forcibly drawn through her system. When wrought and kneaded through vascularity and fleshy, it stretched at them, building up girth. She was, stronger and bulkier now. The body however, was never meant to flex in such a way.... No body ever was.

Thus, in some fashion, it was irrevocably warped. Biological healing would be such unwarping's folly... But however long it'd take, was dictated by one's own natural limitation. After-all, humans couldn't exactly regenerate like demons could.

The telekinetic influence had abruptly been relinquished -- The deed was finished, dropping Syrta to hands and knees should she fail to catch herself from her short free-fall.

"It, is done."
(Terminus)
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[21:53] Syrta's body was in agony, as the ritual was finished, her body warped beyond normal limits. the strength was there she could feel it, but the raw pain shooting through her nerves mad it impossible to move her body.

Add that to the now freefall from the release of her Patron's powers, the Ursidae with thud into the ground, at least feet first, before collapsing into the ground in a groaning mess, unconsciousness threatening to take over her.

She just hoped when she had to do it again for Calypso, it'd be just as painful.
(Syrta)
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[21:56] Terminus says, "Your body should start to feel the fruits of your labor in time. Though, it is possible that it may not be a conscious realization for more mortal kin."
[21:56] Terminus says, "You do not have the means to 'regenerate' after all."