The_nDroid's forum posts
@the_ghostshell: (Your av is pretty enough for anything else you do, LOL)
In the Glorious One's absence, the hyper-dimensional walls of the nCube were watched by it's Guardian; the nDroid. Modeled after the 8th Wonder's storied grandfather, Thee Champion, the nDroid cast a quiet but menacing figure. Nearly seven feet in height, it's right eye glowing green like a lit emerald, and it's left one burning like a flaming ruby, the nDroid wore a heartless and no-nonsense glare that promised agony and suffering to those who walked the nCube uninvited. So as the walls - transparent and gleaming - shifted and twisted in topsy-turvy streams that bled into superstring dimensions man could not perceive, the nDroid marched forward, it's red cape flowing from it's shoulders like a rolling red mist.
Silently, the nDroid strode past windows and colorless doors that opened into millions, billions, perhaps even trillions of corners in the known and unknown universe. Windows and doors forged from the folded fabric of space-time. Before the Ghostshell of Gothic, lay the iridescent white tiled floor of the nCube, each line a glimpse into the seven superstring dimensions man could not see. There was time, the 4th dimension. The dimension man could neither see nor feel but needed mathematics, thought experiments and philosophy to imagine or feel. There was Ishmael's arrow of time, daring to show him his young embryonic self at one end, and his final deceased self at the other if his senses could perceive it. There was the 5th dimension were time broke off in different paths to the possible timelines and alternate versions of similar realities.
Then came the 6th dimension, where all the possible paths of every timeline, every alternate reality of this universe was there for those whose senses were great enough to see. There was the 7th which unveiled universes and realities with different physical laws, and natural forces, where gravity worked differently, where the speed of light was slower than sound. Then loomed the 8th where all possible worlds and realities branched out infinitely before giving way to the 9th where all possible worlds with all possible histories and laws of physics waited to be witnessed. Then finally, the 10th dimension, the point at which all that is possible and imaginable exists. Infinity. And where man could only perceive the first three spatial dimensions of height, width, and depth. The 8th Wonder, an Omega Deus, a hyper-dimensional god, could perceive five and perhaps one day all.
The nCube was his tool. The nurturer of his hyper-dimensional perception, the aid with which he could vaguely glimpse into the 6th dimension. And this tool, this secret, was his greatest treasure. Kept from human discovery - until now. And guarded by the nDroid forever. So as the Guardian's strides slowed at the distant sight of Ishmael, of the human whose senses would be bombarded by an infinite stream of stimuli and information from the nCube that his senses simply could not yet understand... the nDroid imagined it was like imagining a new color a thousand times over, perhaps trying to feel a new emotion not supported by human neurology. Phenomena that could make one feel truly small in the grand scheme of things. But it did not matter.
As it brought it's steps to a halt and it's stern mismatched eyes fell on the Ghostshell of Gothic, the nDroid's voice echoed deep and foreboding. "This place was made by one. The only one allowed to walk them freely. And you, small one - are not that one".
"Leave"
@last_guardian: @vinicius_corvo: @rive_drakeis: @madison_maynard: @caetus_:@gravatav
The air grew thicker and thicker, weighing more heavily with a quality of dread, with the Mad King's power. From behind the dark lenses of his helmet, Cestus gazed upon the Guardians, and his blood boiled at the sight of them. They were a plague. An affliction. Followers of a comfortable lie. They were poisonous. And he was the solution. Cape fluttering in the scorched air, his armor's ebony plates glistening under the sun, the Darkforce blanketing the atmosphere as he strode forward, Cestus' helmet rang, and the voice of his apprentice; Vinicius, the voice of his apprentice echoed. And with his sights set on the Guardians before him, his lightsaber humming louder with each stride, the Mad King's mind answered.
'Take back what is ours, apprentice. Show me that nothing will stand in your way when the end of the Guardian Order is nigh'. That was his command. Vinicius was to storm the structure and claim the Eye of Duhamat, to awaken it and bring it's destructive gaze upon the Guardians. It was Gravatav and a younger Guardian who stood before him. And as they came forward, so did the Mad King's counter. He'd sidestep the younger Guardian, move past him and in doing so, spin in a full circle, gathering momentum and centrifugal force to what should have been a swinging lightsaber, one whose plasma blade sought to cleave into the back of his foe's neck and slice through cleanly. And yet, Cestus did no such thing. The Lightforce had claimed him.
A telekinetic grip had rooted him to the ground. His legs wouldn't move. Gravatav. The Last Torchbearer had trapped him. Lured him into this intangible prison. He'd tricked him into thinking he'd tricked the young Guardian. And now, now Cestus would pay for it. To break free with a burst of Force energy would be simpler but taxing. Gravatav like Lord Lothal, was one of the few whose skill and power could challenge him. To overcome him, the Mad King summoned the creativity that had made him such a feared legend among Aggressor and Guardian alike. One hand held his lightsaber, and his other shook with a cruel power. And from his gloved fingertips, Force Lightning surged, burning and ionizing the air as a torrent of it sped after both Gravatav and his younger foe. He poured the Force into his attack, telekinetically seizing the Force Lightning's molecules and vibrating them.
Vibrating them till the storm of electrical energy phased into both Gravatav and the younger Guardian and set their organs ablaze and fried their nervous systems. If not, it would at least succeed in repelling their joint attack. And soon, another had emerged... Madison. He gripped his lightsaber tighter then, yet as he turned to face her, a stream of lasers rained down upon him from above. With a Force Barrier erected, the Mad King struggled, many a laser stream had seeped through, scorching his armor beyond it's ability to regenerate, searing his skin till the air smelled of cooked meat, and heating his bones till an indignant roar of agony echoed from behind the Mad King's helmet.
His hand trembling, his body crying out in pain from the swarm of heat and energy that threatened to bring him to his knees, Cestus summoned the Force and commanded it to seize the stream of laser-fire.. before telekinetically redirecting it in Madison's direction. Whether or not she'd survive wasn't immediately important. It bought him time. It offered him a moment of reprieve, a second of recuperation. "What doesn't kill me will make you wish it had", the Mad King warned. Farther away however, another was to approach. But he would be no Guardian. No, Cestus' senses told of an Aggressor.
But for now, his greatest concern was the pilot who'd rained down a barrage of lasers that had burned his armor beyond it's ability to self-repair.
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