The illusion takes the form of an armory - probably an elegant sight in the heyday of this mansion, now decrepit from the dust and rust of time. Display cases full of hunting rifles decorate the walls, along with other exotic weapons, though they're in such disarray that almost all of them are useless.
Junk has piled up instead, all random knick knacks, lucky charms, blueprints to the house, and the occasional blood dagger? Not to mention... bodies. Dead bodies, their blood not yet dried.
A couple, trying to protect each other, mauled. A young man with his head bashed into the floor. A silver haired schoolgirl, impaled. A waif-like goth, covered in tattoos, with his throat slit. One teenager, dressed in avante colours, meets your gaze with one final, terrified look, before the light dies out in his eyes and he bleeds out from his wounds: violent scratches and gouges from teeth, as though someone had been trying to tear his skin off.
Soft sobbing permeates the dead silence. Shrike collapsed against a wall, face in her hands as she cries.
...by loving the world and everyone in it, and wanting to see how they grow, more than I hate myself, I suppose. And wanting to hold on to all of them.
It's not something we have to suffer through alone, though. Amaranth understands—Nero definitely understands. Maybe we can't make everyone happy, but flawless victory has never been what soldiers like us have been after, right?
[ she puts a hand on her other self's hair, gently combing her hair through the strands. ]
Just to have a home to come back to. And we'll always have that.
Even as you think to the uncertainty of the future, you feel protected and supported by the love you've cultivated - something that stands fast, even as you feel weak, exposed and vulnerable inside. Your mind is such a fragile thing, and it's been a puppet for such false acts, but...
You know yourself, through the eyes of those who love you. You can only hold fast to the faith that you will find yourself again and again, for them - and rebuild yourself stronger when you do.
The illusion around you shatters - and you are returned to the floating platform.
Shrike’s statue dissolves into blue energy, which your weapon once again absorbs. The base becomes another pillar of light, spilling out from a portal to the next level.
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Re: LEVEL 4B
I'll do my best.
[ and she kneels to touch the plaque. ]
Re: LEVEL 4B
Junk has piled up instead, all random knick knacks, lucky charms, blueprints to the house, and the occasional blood dagger? Not to mention... bodies. Dead bodies, their blood not yet dried.
A couple, trying to protect each other, mauled.
A young man with his head bashed into the floor.
A silver haired schoolgirl, impaled.
A waif-like goth, covered in tattoos, with his throat slit.
One teenager, dressed in avante colours, meets your gaze with one final, terrified look, before the light dies out in his eyes and he bleeds out from his wounds: violent scratches and gouges from teeth, as though someone had been trying to tear his skin off.
Soft sobbing permeates the dead silence. Shrike collapsed against a wall, face in her hands as she cries.
Re: LEVEL 4B
...it's not all from the same time, but—she knows what this all is. more or less, anyway.
quietly, she goes to sit next to herself against the wall, knees pulled up against her chest. ]
Re: LEVEL 4B
"O-oh. You made it..."
Re: LEVEL 4B
Re: LEVEL 4B
"You were. I'm-- it feels like I'm trapped like this."
Re: LEVEL 4B
...some scars never stop hurting entirely.
Re: LEVEL 4B
"How do you do it? How do you just... live with it, never knowing the next time you'll falter again?"
Re: LEVEL 4B
...by loving the world and everyone in it, and wanting to see how they grow, more than I hate myself, I suppose. And wanting to hold on to all of them.
Re: LEVEL 4B
Her voice grows quieter as she adds, "We've never stopped being a disappointment. I'm just s-so tired of it..."
Re: LEVEL 4B
It's not something we have to suffer through alone, though. Amaranth understands—Nero definitely understands. Maybe we can't make everyone happy, but flawless victory has never been what soldiers like us have been after, right?
[ she puts a hand on her other self's hair, gently combing her hair through the strands. ]
Just to have a home to come back to. And we'll always have that.
Re: LEVEL 4B
"...You're right. A home to come back to when the battle's done... is the truest reward we could ask for."
Re: LEVEL 4B
We're not fighting alone anymore.
Re: LEVEL 4B
A small smile finally pushes at her lips.
"...Thank you."
Even as you think to the uncertainty of the future, you feel protected and supported by the love you've cultivated - something that stands fast, even as you feel weak, exposed and vulnerable inside. Your mind is such a fragile thing, and it's been a puppet for such false acts, but...
You know yourself, through the eyes of those who love you. You can only hold fast to the faith that you will find yourself again and again, for them - and rebuild yourself stronger when you do.
The illusion around you shatters - and you are returned to the floating platform.
Shrike’s statue dissolves into blue energy, which your weapon once again absorbs. The base becomes another pillar of light, spilling out from a portal to the next level.
?