Across Universes

The first thing you noticed about the Middle of Nowhere was that it was near unbearably hot. The Middle of Nowhere was quite an apt choice for the town on multiple levels - it wasn't located anywhere in particular. It was somehow too close to civilization to be remote, but too far from civilization to be... well, civilized. The land was so flat that if your dog ran away, you'd be able to watch it run for two months - and there was so little to do that "syndicating the footage and making millions off of the resulting television show" was a viable pastime. That, and the planet it was on was called Nowhere - a perfectly nondescript planet in just about every way you could think of. 1G, Earth-like atmosphere, vaguely Earth-like life with some things from fantasy... and of course, it was a giant desert ball with ice on either pole.

And of course, Nowhere itself was in an unremarkable system in an unremarkable sector of space. Go figure.

Legend held the person that named the world - long-deceased, after explosive liver failure attributed to the nature of the world he had spent his life finding - was on a drunken nihilistic bender, and wanted the planet's name to forever reflect what it would amount to be. While there was no real factual basis behind the claim - the few scholarly societies on Nowhere hotly debating whether or not the individual who had named this world even existed - practically everyone took it as fact. Nowhere amounted to its namesake, and was going in the same direction.

Through the endless sandy seas that composed the planet (of which little was really known of - the amount of people who had cared to try and really chart the world beyond its small Tendrils of Civilization tentatively stretching beyond the somewhat habitable ice caps rested somewhere between negative one and one) a train rushed by. Its appearance was quaint - almost like the 1800s had come back in a reverse Renaissance, taking after the steam locomotives of yore. But it levitated just two inches above magnetic rails, and blew through the landscape at speeds that would make supercars red with envy. A smokestack belched steam from the fission reactor that ran the train - it had been slated for an upgrade to a pinch fusion reactor about 170 years ago, but it had been so perpetually delayed its owners were considering building their own from scratch despite the last attempt having ended in the only interesting geographical feature for at least two hundred miles in any direction, "up" included.

In retrospect, a nuclear bomb wasn't the best starting point for an engine.

The train it "pulled" was two miles long - the median length for this sort of thing. Outposts of society were few and far between, and the only cities were near the ice caps - so trains were long, heading out on each of the few Tendrils of Civilization, rail lines extending out across the planet like titanium spiderwebs. They carried hundreds of people and tens of thousands of tonnes of supplies, and each of the cars themselves - given the proper "push" from a nuclear powered locomotive - was capable of directly contributing to the momentum of the train through a series of energy capture systems that were well understood, mostly out of boredom.

The engine began braking five kilometres out from the Middle of Nowhere, a small throng of people having gathered at the station to watch it come in. The conditions outside were unpleasant, as touched upon earlier - the Middle of Nowhere did have one claim to fame, being the farthest town away from the north pole of the planet, where temperatures regularly dipped below freezing. The equator of the planet was known to reach temperatures that weren't so much nonconducive to life as utterly hostile.

And of course, while it was unbearably hot enough on the desert world, the two suns blazing - not a cloud in the sky for miles, resulting in a horizon that would have been just as suicidally featureless as the landscape below it were it not for the dust storm beginning to gather - didn't help much. Even then, all the growing vortex of dirt did was change the hex color of the sky by a few digits from 'blue' to 'brown'.

The main locomotive sped past the station, holding a wooden texture but made of steel, as it slowed down, before the few cars slated for the Middle of Nowhere - at the end of the train - leisurely pulled into the station.

People got out. Some people got on. The line stretched ahead for miles, into the dust storm, where it turned around - if you looked far enough into the distance you could see the other line almost like a mirror image of the one the train magnetically hovered above. Supplies were unloaded and distributed to the town.

The Middle of Nowhere, as a town, was about as architecturally interesting as the twenty-something towns that came before it. While several of the important buildings - the town hall, the sheriff's office, to name two of the two important buildings in the town - were made of advanced composite materials painted to match the rest of the town, most of the other buildings were made of actual wood. Resources were scarce this far from the hubs of civilization and the spaceports, so you made do with what you were given. And mostly it was lumber. At least 85% of the Middle of Nowhere existed because one of the train technicians had decided to go play hooky out in the desert instead of do his job, and a shipment for lumber that was supposed to go to a paper mill was instead delivered to the town.

The Middle of Nowhere rejoiced that there was something to do. The paper mill was furious, but quickly shrugged off the minor loss of raw materials. And the technician was fired after he was found dead of heatstroke.

Of course, even for a nondescript town on a nondescript planet orbiting a nondescript star in a nondescript sector - a power tower of boring - there was a reason for it to exist; mining. And as it turned out, Nowhere held a valuable resource... iron.

Scholars generally agreed that had caused the explosive liver failure from earlier. If it had happened in the first place.

The population of the Middle of Nowhere fit the bill; mostly human, a few aliens and robots here and there. The numbers were in ever-constant flux - even as people were assigned to the iron mine a few kilometres up the line before the U-turn, some were criminals, vagrants, thieves, or just really bored people who had ran out of patience and self-preservatory instinct. And just as there were criminals and a seedy underbelly to the town, there was a sheriff.

"Of course, "sheriff" wasn't quite accurate. The bandits out in these parts had access to serious military hardware, so rather than try to train a supersoldier, the Middle of Nowhere sprang for an extremely powerful military assault robot. It ran on four sets of treads, carried two gatling guns and two missile launchers - and, amusing, a chest-mounted wall of tasers quoted to be capable of "incapacitating the hell out of anything that moves". Unfortunately, it wasn't exactly very smart - it regularly caused large amounts of collateral damage, and it was a common practice in the Middle of Nowhere to simply rebuild your house after Sheriff Dumbtreads determined the quickest path to justice was directly through your bed." Revealing its designers had mostly phoned in the sheriff-AI - which officially it had three states; Patrol, Arresting, and Killing.

The Middle of Nowhere was not an interesting or pleasant place to be. But it was human spirit to eke out existence, no matter how dull, in the hope that something would eventually happen.

And one fateful day, the residents of the Middle of Nowhere got exactly what they asked for.

I would like to thank spart for the amazing OP

edited 31st Jul '16 7:32:19 PM by Imca

AUGUST 30, 2552

AREA NEAR SHIPBREAKING YARDS, ASZOD, REACH

22:04 HOURS

Reach was burning. He felt it in his bones; breathed the choking smell of burnt everything through his helmet. The sky was thick and brown with the ashes of a planet charred to a crisp and still being cooked, and the wind howled as the atmosphere was burned away by the plasma beams scorching every inch of human habitation from their greatest fortress world.

A plasma bolt shattered his visor. He took his helmet off; it was unnecessary at this point. All he'd been doing for the past two hours was staving off the inevitable; the pile of alien corpses up to where he stood had proven that, but he could hear the hum and thrum of Covenant antigravity projectors over the wind, and in the corner of his eye a full battleship approached. His muscles burned with exertion; he felt faint and lightheaded. An entire army was being retasked solely to kill him, and he took cold comfort in the fact that one demon was enough to significantly upset the Covenant's plans for this world. If they had any.

It had all started about a month ago. He'd been assigned to a team of commandoes much like him; Noble Team. On their first mission, a routine patrol to a silent communications hub revealed the presence of the Covenant; humanity's spectre for the past quarter-century. Things escalated rapidly. Armies clashed; fleets jumped into orbit; and one by one, Noble Team fell. Detonating a slipspace drive, shot in the head, reassigned to a VIP, ramming a Pelican into a Scarab, and being outright backstabbed - a team of six had been reduced to one.

And Noble Six knew that now was his end.

He saw an assault rifle lying on the ground. Weapon. Forgetting about the marksman rifle on his back, he dashed forwards and picked it up as an Elite closed in, its plasma rifle blazing with electric blue fury. Six raised the weapon and opened fire; the MA 37 had no sights but he didn't need any, the Elite was a big target. The bullets flattened themselves against the xenomorph's energy shield until it cracked and failed; the Elite roared in defiance, and Six's assault rifle roared with fire. Holes were punched through the Elite's armor; it fell over dead.

Another approached from behind, an energy sword lit with murderous intent fueled by religious fervor. B312 heard the crackling of the blade, and swung around, driving the butt of the assault rifle into the Elite and smashing the split-lip alien's energy shield. The Elite yelped in surprise, but B312 carried the momentum forwards as far as he was able, and heaved him onto the ground.

The Elite's armor thudded off of the rocks as B312 drew his magnum and snuffed out the intruder without a second thought; a Jackal approached, focus rifle raised, but B312 raised his Magnum and a second shot dropped the avian without a thought. He took a moment to breathe.

That was his fatal mistake.

Scores of inaccurate plasma fire lanced by him, the telltale whip-hiss of plasmoids searing through air, and he raised his rifle, opening fire yet again. Unfortunately, the distraction was enough for a second Elite to join in, and the crossed streams of stellar fire raked across his midsection, ablating his titanium-A armor and burning parts of his stomach to a crisp. B312 was forced back due to the pain; he drew his Magnum and fired it at one of the Elites while his assault rifle barked a stern condemnation of the other's accuracy.

He felled both, but the pain and the exhaustion of the past week clouded his mind and he failed to notice an Elite Ultra charge directly through, punching him in the chest. It didn't hurt - not much - but the force of the blow knocked him onto his back, his rifle clattering out of his hand.

The massive, silver-armored sauropod jumped onto him and lit an energy dagger but B312 kicked out with a furious leg and forced him off; another Elite clad in red armor, a Zealot, charged in to the beleagued Spartan's left with a lit energy sword, but B312 reached up and punched it in the face. The Elite was forced back, his energy sword flying from his hands. The first Elite, in the meanwhile, regained his footing and lunged, attempting to stab the Spartan to finish him off, Six rolled to the side and the energy sword ate dirt, before he elbowed the Ultra, the force of the impact cracking the alien's shields - and presumably, his skull.

The Zealot, in the meanwhile, lit his energy dagger with a thunderous crack. Six withdrew his arm and turned just in time to see the plasma knife coming down like the instrument of the gods.

Reach burned.

8:59 PM GMT

UNKNOWN SPACE, PLANETARY ATMOSPHERE

HCS EXUBERANCE PERSONAL EXPLORATION VESSEL

Naomi Studwick's current train of thought consisted of car after car after car of swear words. The Pinch Drive was insanely reliable, but every machine failed eventually; and during her first blind jump, her Pinch Drive failed mid-transit. Violently.

The power on Exuberance had been knocked out, but after frantic troubleshooting with only the sound of her breathing to keep her company aboard the vessel, she had managed to restore it just in time for the nav-computer to inform her that they were falling into atmosphere. She immediately tried to throttle up and apply enough delta-V to escape the planet's gravity well but it was then the flight computer helpfully decided to inform her that blowback from the Pinch failure had shorted out both of the engines. She'd be able to repair it on-planet, most likely; but of course, the trouble with that was making the journey, and by the time she'd digested all of this the Exuberance's re-entry heat shield was glowing red with friction from tumbling through the atmosphere and the attitude indicator was going haywire.

It had taken five minutes for her to use the RCS thrusters to stabilize her flight; even then she continued to rocket through the atmosphere at a speed described as "way too high". The Mach number she'd seen was, by her own account, ginormous. As the atmosphere finally began to slow her down she began a serious of absolutely insane S-turns; she could hear the hull of the Exuberance buckling under the strain, and she knew the turns weren't perfect, but desperation was driving her to extremes to safeguard her future.

Eventually - after ten minutes of terror and warning alarm after warning alarm on the control panel - she was 20 km above the surface. The main engines were still out and the current biome was a desert on sight. Naomi was no ace pilot, but she knew that a landing like that was untenable at best and lethal at worst. Her only option was to try and set the autopilot to land Exuberance as intactly as possible, gather her things, and jump. So she did exactly that. A few deft touchscreen flicks activated the autopilot and set it to 'Emergency Mode - Land'.

The Exuberance deployed emergency parachute drogues to keep reducing velocity as Naomi gathered up everything she'd need. Computer, weapons, survival tools, camping gear, emergency oxygen supply, solar panels - she ran on autopilot as much as her ship did, somehow able to block out the alarms and howl of wind and the massive amounts of shaking turbulence the starship underwent as it seared through the skies.

She double-checked her equipment, and when she finally called up the altimeter and speedometer with a few thoughts towards her spinal jack, she noticed that the vehicle was still slowing. It might be able to make a survivable landing - but given the uneven terrain, she didn't want to hedge the bet.

She pulled the heavy survival backpack off of her back - loaded to bear with everything she'd needed - ensured her carbine and multi-tool were karabiner clipped, strapped, and magnetically secured to her multi-function suit - then grabbed a parachute, slipping it onto her back. She shoved her suit's helmet on her head so harshly she almost whiplashed herself, then kept her mind's eye on the AR altimeter.

The Exuberance fell below Mach 1, still smoking and red-hot with the friction and flame of re-entry. 18 kilometres became 17 became 16, 15, 14, 13...

At 10 kilometres, Naomi opened the egress airlock. Air whipped into the cabin, and she hugged her backpack close to her chest as pressure sucked her out of the Exuberance.

She spun through the air, seeing only the endless desert stretching out before her and the burning Exuberance caterwauling through the air, thrusters firing to stabilize the vehicle as it roared towards the ground, more fireball than machine.

The altimeter switched to feet with a thought, going from estimates based off of the last connection to the Exuberance's flight computer.

Naomi waited two minutes as she sheared through the sky, until the altimeter read 1000 feet. Then she pulled the ripcord.

UNKNOWN TIME

UNKNOWN SPACE

SPARTAN-B312 woke with a start. They looked around, seeing nothing but blue sky, two suns, and a desert.

What?

The Spartan snapped up, drawing his sidearm and looking around, his gaze following his weapon. He patted his chest, his stomach, his legs. His armor was okay. His HUD said he was carrying his DMR, a Magnum, and four grenades.

B312 stood up, looking around at the endless, dusty expanse. A massive desert, cholla, cacti, and rock formations as far as the eye could see. The horizon was brown - looked like a storm, wherever he was. Two suns burned in the sky, along with a roaring fireball - most likely a spaceship.

There was a town in the distance. B312 drew his rifle.

He wasn't sure what had happened to him. He wasn't sure where he was. He didn't know what awaited him.

But he wanted answers.

-Cindy flicked her toothpick to the side as she got off the train. She looked around and eventually up in the sky, vaguely hoping to see a cloud. Seeing none, she took a swig of the water she received on the transport to this dustball. Even the water tastes artificial she noted with disdain as she watched the robot sheriff make his rounds. If anything, she decided, this town needed a mechanic. Well, lucky I'm here then to save the day she mused with a smirk. First order of business was to stake a claim on some dirt. That shouldn't be too hard. After that, it'll be time to finally own her own shop.-

edited 31st Jul '16 7:30:28 PM by NeonMoon

[Somewhere in the middle of Nowhere]

A blue-haired (though not without purple strips), yellow-eyed woman in a nice, elegant dress with a water and trident pattern upon her chest, as well as a purple hat with a ribbon on it, walks through a portal with a parasol. She is also carrying four canteens on her person.

She takes a glance at the godforsaken planet she's ended up on, and briefly reconsiders going through the portal, until she finds the portal closed. "Crap," she groans. The wind blows her parasol away, and she briefly chases it until she notices she's sweating. A lot. After a moment's thinking, she realizes she has way too much clothing on. "Ma bought this for me, but I think my survival is more important than a dress."

She tears off bits of the legs, and then the arms of her dress. She takes a breather.

"Maybe there's civilization," she considers. She eventually makes her way to the Middle of Nowhere.

[Somewhere else in the middle of Nowhere]

A blonde-haired woman of blue eyes, wearing a red dress, and a red cloak to supplement the look, wipes sweat off herself with said cloak. She's carrying a firearm, a rifle, specifically, made of what appears to be clockwork parts, in her right arm, which appears to be similarly of clockwork aesthetic. "Love of fuck, this place is dreadful," said to no one in particular. She stops to look around, sighs, and then says "Still better than treasure-hunting in Olympus."

She eventually catches sight of the town of Middle of Nowhere. "Oh, thank god. Civilization," the red-hooded young woman says.

She slings the rifle over her soldier, and starts heading to the town. "Maybe they'll know where some treasure is," she thinks with a smirk.

At the same time, a figure was approaching the town on foot, wearing a green outfit covered them from head to toe, leaving only their amber eyes exposed, with a long, loose-fitting robe; large enough to give them some cover from the planet's twin suns, and light enough to let the air flow through for some much-needed cooling. They kept on making their way towards the sole visible beacon of civilization, carrying a crystaline staff over their shoulder, branching off just above their head to hold a couple scraps of cloth hastily tied together, a makeshift parasol to provide just a little more mercy from the scorching rays cast down from the heavens.

-*Within the unassuming masses pouring out the locomotion of old, a glowing humanoid gasbag of violet pigmentation calmly emerges out of the train. Donned in a garishly wealthy getup that blends the old west and the rugged armed forces, the spade faced extraterrestrial gazed around his surroundings, filling him with the sense of extreme deja vu.*

-*Far outside town, an 8 foot tall armored figure in waning blues and whites slowly walked towards the settlement. The searing sun above bleached away the blues on him with the nemesis of hunger haunting him for a while now, supplies of water running dangerously low, and the air conditioning about to give out from fatigue. Nevertheless, this rebel determines to trek into civilization. To him, fate has rewarded him for surviving the ordeal.*

edited 31st Jul '16 8:13:26 PM by MrKirb

Inside Sin

Auron was tired.

So very tired.

His journey had been a long one, that was for sure. Months of travelling with a band of young adults desperately trying to fight fate took a lot out of an older guy like him, especially one suffering from such a condition as death. With a grunt, the older man slowly put his Masamune back on his back, watching impassively as the young summoner held her own staff out in front of her, staring at her aeons floating in the space across from her.

And then she began to dance.

A wry smile twisted Auron's scarred face as the young woman spun her staff and twirled her robe, working the pyreflies and the spirits around her, preparing to Send all of the tortured souls that the monster known as Yu Yevon had created throughout its long existence. He sighed, half in relief, as this number included himself, an Unsent of approximately twenty years.

He was growing very sleepy now. He could feel his soul being lightly tugged along by the summoner's dance, eager to join its friends in the Farplane. The girl turned on her heel as part of her dance, then stopped as she noticed the pyreflies beginning to gather around the aging samurai.

"Auron, you —"

"Go, Yuna."

"...Okay."

She continued to dance, and the pyreflies followed.

The pull on his being was more insistent now. He could feel it sinking into his fading bones, coursing throughout his entire being, and he was ready. Braska and Jecht awaited him there, and it had been far too long since he had spoken to either of them in any kind of pleasant environment. Their stories had ended in sadness so long ago — and so had Auron's. And now this impromptu epilogue was coming to a close, as well.

Auron closed his remaining eye, feeling the stone beneath his feet soften and give way as his corporeal form faded into pyreflies.

He faded away, his story finally coming to a close.

~*~

THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE

...Or so he thought.

The first thing that caught his attention was the heat. A blanket of it suddenly crashed down upon the samurai, startling him out of his meditative reverie. His eye snapped open, and he took stock of his surroundings, his finely-tuned warrior senses on high alert once again. He now stood in what appeared to be a ramshackle town in the middle of the desert, not any that he recognized, and he had spent enough time traveling up and down Spira to have seen every corner of it a thousand times. The second: what appeared to be a highly advanced machina trundled past just as he awoke, far different from anything that he had seen back home. The third: these people certainly weren't dead. They gave him strange looks as they passed (most likely due to his attire in such a sweltering hellhole), and most of them appeared to be human, as well; no ronso, hypello, or even an Al Bhed, and the non-humans that were present were ones he didn't recognize. Auron narrowed his eyes, coming to a final conclusion in his head.

Wherever the hell he was, it certainly wasn't the Farplane. Nor was it Spira.

With a grunt, Auron thrust his left arm into the makeshift sling that it always rested in when not being used for combat and took stock one more time, this time without his body prepared for combat. The town seemed quaint enough, if horribly dusty and seemingly alone out here in the middle of the desert. His only problem with it was that it wasn't the damn Farplane.

Mostly annoyed now, the samurai took it upon himself to begin doing reconnaissance, slowly strolling through the town, aimlessly heading towards the train station (not that he would have known that). He heard the sounds of activity — and the deliverymen scrambling away from it, off to parts unknown — and decided that that might be the best place to look for information about...wherever this was.

And maybe, he hoped, he could find a way out, as well.

The vast sea of blackness gave way to a chaotic, swirling sight of iridescent orbs, circling around a small body that didn't even have flesh yet. It did already develop consciousness, however, and could think, trying to assess how did it end up here, how did it manage to get to think again and, most importantly, what awaits it soon. But then another flow of thoughts resounded in the being's mind, eclipsing every attempt to block it. Someone was talking, and the being was compelled to listen.

- You messed up again, didn't you. - The voice was mocking, swarthy and haughty. But the one listening had known that it had all reasons to sound that way. After all, at its whim the unformed one was born earlier, and now it was reborn for the second time.
- It wasn't my fault. - Reminiscences started flocking in the furtive being's mind like a school of fish covering a carcass dumped into the water. - I didn't... Ask them to bring me there, and I didn't foresee how misguided their attempts would be.
- Not your fault? You're contradicting yourself. You've still inspired them and wished for someone to give you freedom, whatever would be the way. Voluntarily or not, they've decided to be your heralds. And now you have to suffer for their mistakes. - The voice has dropped all attempts to feign contempt or condescension, now being openly scathing and finding delight in every word it dropped like salt upon wounds.
- Suffer? Can't you just let me fade away already? I've seen enough of that foolishness. - The furtive shape didn't have anything to lose, and if the intent underlining the voice's wasn't misguiding, it wouldn't gain anything as well. But the one speaking did reverse its dissolution back for some reason, and the diminutive one sincerely doubted that it was only for the sake of gloating.
- No. You see, I can't deny myself a chance to see some more of that show you've been the lead star of, pun intended. And that means... - The pause meant that the voice was either reluctant to speak, or savoring the phrase it will spell now. The little one was sure in the latter. - You will be brought back.
- W... What? - The little one understood that it didn't ask the question mentally, but said that out loud, its body rapidly gaining shape and xanthous flesh.
- You will have to start over from the very beginning, and I will watch your every step. - It sure was hard for the voice not to break into laughter. - You'll reendure everything to pay out the debt you now owe me. Go then, and crawl up the sea shore, fish. Or are you a spineless body whom I should watch through a lense? Doesn't matter now.

As the little one fell, he observed the many facets of the world he would find himself in. And he didn't find any. It was bland and monotonous like a canvas with a few blots. But maybe that was something he has sought, something he might need to foil that swarthy bastard's scheme? And without a further thought, the newly-born King In Yellow used the primordial magic to erase the most important part of his memory. His ambitions.
A shining yellow star has fallen upon the Nowhere's surface, and a petite youth clad in casual clothes emerged from the crater, looking around with a smile of someone untainted by his past. Somewhere near the horizon he saw a little blot of brown amidst the sandy beige. And then he started walking.

edited 31st Jul '16 8:20:12 PM by TheRiddleOfCards

LOCATION: NOWHERE, MIDDLE OF

Along the dusty trails of the trail walked a ragged looking girl, muttering under her breath. She nervously adjusted the hood of her coat as she reflected on her situation. Every step she took just pounded into her how terrible her situation was getting by the moment. How much her feet hurt. How little sleep she's been able to get. Just how...soul-gnawingly hungry she felt from the souls of her feet to the crown of her head. Wait, speaking of hunger...oh damnit. The girl collapsed as another hunger cramp drained what little energy she felt. Ever since she'd managed to escape that place on foot through the glowing portal, she'd been getting those a lot. She collapsed to the ground, her energy nearly spent. This was the beginning of the journey for...

"...Uuuuuugh, could you put that giant introduction box away, I can't see where I'm going >.<" muttered the ragged looking girl as she forced herself back to her feet with dogged determination. "Okay...time to stop feeling sorry for myself. Still have my wits. Still have my gun. Still have my health...mostly. Let's see where this next place is...and hope they accept gold coins." After all, the girl thought as she stumbled and swayed her way into town, no place could be as bad as the last one she was in. Maybe she could get a new start here. Just needed the right attitude. After all, she was through the worst of it. How could it get any worse from here...?

edited 31st Jul '16 8:38:23 PM by Raidouthe21st

-Cindy decided to check the bar. After all, a place can be judged by the quality of its whiskey. She plops down in a seat by the bar and gets her drink. To her chagrin, it tastes somewhere between motor oil and chocobo ass.-

edited 31st Jul '16 8:33:34 PM by NeonMoon

A nameless city street on the hive world of Achlao

The mad raving of Cultists seem to come from every direction as Einar sprinted down a street in the corrupted city. The entire planet was considered a lost cause now and would likely be sentenced to Exterminatus in short order, but that mattered little to the kerberos marine at the present.

"Surrender to the pleas-UR Gk"

a cultist's attempt to stall the marine was swiftly ended as Einar swung his Eviscerator and messily cut him in two, not once slowing down. As he continued though, the sound of foot steps could be heard...Astartes foot steps, all marching in synchronicity.

Einar activated his jump pack and leaped right as a line of warp fire covered bolter shells tore through a nearby wall and leveled the area he had just been in. Below him stood a group of four Rubric marines, but no Sorcerer. There was a soft sigh as Einar landed behind the Rubric marines and continued running, opting to simply disregard the damned automaton astartes and focus on completing his mission.

He could already here them getting ready to unleash another salvo as his Jump-pack's engines flared to life yet again.

Governor's Palace

The Kerberos marine slammed through the roof of the building, landing of what looks like was a slaanesh den but was now nothing more than ruins.

On the far side of the room stood the leader of the Thousand Sons Warband, A Sorcerer crackling with warp energy. Too his left and right stood two more of the Rubric marines, both of them already aiming their bolters.

"You must be quite disappointed, to have fought through the entire city only to meet your end just in sight of the goal"

The Sorcerer chuckled a bit as the hadex anomaly that hung over head began to shine a much more intense shade of red. Einar's only response was to rapidly toss a frag grenade, the shrapnel of it detonating in mid air actually causing the sorcerer to flinch and allowing him a chance to take flight for a third time.

His target was a device in the Sorcerer's hands, some corrupted technology of the damned ruinous powers. It did not matter to Einar if he lived or died, as long as the mission was complete he would have completed his service to the Emperor. And so even as the Rubric marines began to open fire, Einar only focused on bringing his Eviscerator down on the Sorcerer. The massive weapon slicing through both the device and the traitor astarte, unleashing an explosion of built up warp energy as the red shine of the Hadex Anomaly engulfed the planet.

Middle of Nowhere

As the light faded and Einar found himself able to see again, he was almost shocked to discover he was unharmed. He was sure that the warp shells of the Rubrics would have done him in, but then he realized he was no longer on a planet that was in the final stages of becoming a Daemon world.

he was instead on the edge of nowhere, both figuratively and literally. With only the town in sight, he began to march towards it hoping that he could find imperial forces there that could tell him of his location.

He tried to wipe some blood off himself on the way, trying to make himself look less intimidating, temporarily forgetting that even without it he was still a hulking man in powered armor with a giant chain sword being held in one of his hands.

MIDDLE OF NOWHERE

On his way to the train station, Auron noticed something: a bar, just as ramshackle as the rest of the town, sandwiched between a couple other shops on a dusty street. With a moment's consideration, Auron headed inside, deciding that this would be even better for information gathering than a train station. And besides, he needed to fill up his jug. He couldn't work without it.

THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE: A DUSTY SALOON

The musty smell of the bar hit him in the face as he stepped inside, and he chuckled wryly. It was a familiar smell, one that he had been surrounded by far too often in the weeks following his death. Alcohol wasn't nearly as enjoyable for an Unsent, but it still helped. With a sigh, the older man sat at the bar, tugging at the collar of his haori a little bit as he did so. The heat was starting to get to him, contributing to the annoyance that was already plaguing him due to his very existence in this place.

With a piece of gil — which the bartender took with an odd look on his face, not recognizing Mushroom Rock-mined gold — the ronin ordered his own drink. He sipped on it, nodding in appreciation as the raunchy, foul-tasting swill actually registered with his faded tastebuds. This works, he thought with a chuckle, taking another sip.

edited 31st Jul '16 8:43:17 PM by Chilifro

Cindy: Dude, I have no idea what you ordered, but it smells like Moogle piss.

As Hastur walked through the ramshackle town, he observed people in the streets. They didn't look like they're contempt with their lives, though, on the other hand, they didn't look like they yearned for more either. After a five minutes' stroll The King In Yellow was standing before a saloon, the building with at least some degree of cultural importance.

Entering it, Hastur looked around. In dim light people's faces looked even more weathered, but two of them weren't irreversibly scarred by sun and hard work: a well-built man standing near the bar, and a lady with intelligent looks sitting by a table. Coming closer, Hastur has ordered himself a pint of pale ale, oblivious to suspicious gazes from the bartender, and turned towards the foreigners, starting a dialogue cheerfully.

(@Auron;Cindy) Hastur: Hm, is it always that hot around here? Think I'm gonna melt.

Cindy: No idea. I just got off the ship.

-There's a moment of silence as the samurai fails to notice that he's being talked to — or is choosing to believe that he's not the one being addressed. Eventually, however, he glances over with his one good eye (which requires a full turn to the right, due to Cindy being on his bad side) at the girl talking to him, and chuckles again.-

Auron: "Neither do I. I just know that I can taste it."

-He takes another defiant sip in the face of public criticism, and after another moment's silence decides to do what he came here to do.-

-to Cindy- "You live here?"

-As he asked his question, a cheerful young man walked into the bar, and a chill went down Auron's spine — or was it his spirit? — as he looked upon him, but it passed as quickly as it came.-

-to Hastur- "Couldn't tell you. I just...arrived here, myself."

Cindy: -Hesitates a moment- ....I do now.

-The samurai keeps an eye on Cindy for a moment, then shrugs.-

Auron: "...Close enough."

-he takes another sip- "Where is this?"

Cindy: Middle of Nowhere.

....That's the actual name.

(@Cindy;Auron) Hastur: Heh, guessed that you're from outside as well. As am I, to be honest. ~sips his beer as well~ Dunno where this is, but, well, the name is fitting - can't say people around here are in luck to live here. Seen the most of this planet from the sky. Barren. And boring.

edited 31st Jul '16 9:01:49 PM by TheRiddleOfCards

Auron: -slightly amused- "Hm. Humor I can appreciate."

-he nods to Cindy in thanks for the info, then takes another look, an odd feeling passing through his spirit-

-He's felt this before. A feeling of...destiny?-

-He shakes his head, chuckling again, then sighing.- Again, huh? Fine.

-to Cindy- "...Auron, by the way. You need something to call me by."

-to Hastur- "The entire place is a desert?"

Cindy: My name is Cindy.

(@Auron;Cindy) Hastur: Yes, no matter where you look. With some dots of settlements, but don't think they differ much. And nice to meet you, by the way. Name's Hastur. Or Hast, or Hasta. No matter how you pronounce it, there's no wrong one, hehe. ~chuckles and orders another beer, having gulped the previous one in less than two minutes~

MIDDLE OF NOWHERE

-*The Novakid in white and purple decided it's best to kill some time at the saloon. Entering the place, he gazed around the humble establishment for a seat for himself. When he noted the vacant spot, he took the opportunity. With that accomplished, he decided to order a some ale which originated from a far off xeno-world. His payment is appears to be some small golden cubes. He notices the colorful strangers him but he just goes back to just drinking his ale, best to keep his own business to himself for now.*

Roy: ['Middle of Nowhere, odd but fitting name.]

-*As for the armored man, stepping into town didn't let up his thirst at all. In fact, it worsened. The man looked around town for sources of water, ANY WATER. As expected, he found it in the form a through in front of the saloon. With no time to waste, he parked in front of the saloon then the armor opened up from the back, revealing an average build man in a black bodysuit. Finally, the man dunked his head into the wonders of H20. He really needed that. It may looked odd to the locals and water was dranked by xeno-beasts but he doesn't care.*

edited 31st Jul '16 9:16:45 PM by MrKirb

Auron: "Cindy and Hastur...a pleasure."

-finished with his own raunchy number, Auron pushes it to the side- "...Pleasantries aside. I don't suppose either of you know what 'Spira' is?"