Fascist Invasion - The Vernichtung Sektor

"No, I do not want you participating in this one."

"But, Adell!"



"No butts, Loki. This group is much more difficult Suza. You can't rely on people bailing you out. You must grow stronger."

"How am I supposed to do if I don't fight? What if you're not here one of these days? Then who saves the people?"

"You will get killed!"

"We don't know that! My skills are getting better, you've even said it yourself!"

"You are not ready. My decision is final."

And without a word Loki walked out of Adell's office, not wanting to disrespect him and cause a scene, like a good disciple would do. Loki walked out, and a normally calm warrior would smash his own fist into the other. Several people looked at him and were taken aback. He walked out of the building square in the middle of Babylon City. He saw televisions and heard the radio stating to clear Babylon City. He walked along the opposite path of the civilians, heading the complete opposite way. Many panicked, and were looking to places to go to. He ended up going near a bar, resting against the door, and looked through the window the telecast once again. The enemy was creating chaos and here he was, not being able to do anything about it, all for risk of his own safety. He did not care about that. He moved his hands to curl into fists,punching the wall to the building, creating a small tremor inside. It was there that he encountered a strange old man.

"Where you going sonny?"

"I need to find a way to get onto a ship to get to the battle."

"I see. What's it to you?"

"I need to prove that I am strong. I need to prove that I can protect people, too."

"What's your name?"

"My name is Loki. Loki Beoulve of---"

"Disciple of Adell Laemington, I know. Look, I can get you a ship if you keep quiet.."

"Really?!"

"Yes....follow me."

And that was when he was brought to the same exact ship another male by the name of Riku was on. It was rather intriguing indeed. The old man went on to explain how it was admiral for a young man like himself to be able to risk everything and knowingly would die for his cause. It was very impressive, hence why he was able to come aboard.

---

The white martial arts uniform certainly had gotten him his reputation. It was now time to live up to against this new enemy. While preparing himself, and being introduced to Lucia, the male would find himself in the storage department of the ship. He was able to get two Crimson Knight battle suits. After hearing about all the adults from television and from his superiors, including his mentor Adell, he was not going to allow himself any room for error. In the dressing room there, he had put over his uniform the standard Exo-Battle suit to help him protect against projectiles and magic to a degree. He was finished then with the preparation he needed, having his sword cast about his back. The battle suit had armor thick enough to withstand multiple hits and he did not want to risk it and was taking all the necessary precautions. The suit was also very relaxing on the body, being a type of heavy armor that had a light composition of alloy around it. It also would be able to greatly enhance his combat capabilities, especially the ones he wielded. It was then that he was instructed to go into the pod area.

It was at this moment, he began to have flashes of Adell telling him no. He knew he would be able to see him, or at least he had hoped so. He was going to show that he was a capable warrior, too. Last time was a disgrace, this time he intended to make a great deal of amends for what had happened. His ambition would not be denied and the entire time he was silent aboard the ship as they prepared and was formally introduced to Lucia and Riku. Eyes narrowing as he was in the pod, he liked Adell greatly, but he wanted to have his way and enter the battle. It was at this moment, the pod was launched and the propeller system shot the pods towards the enemy ship, rocketing towards it at record speed. One eye looked behind to see Lucia attempting to crash the ship, but he had hoped she would create enough of a distraction for Riku and himself to get aboard and start everything. Loki began to prepare himself, curling his fists together as a frail of energy began to light up his body before internally it rushing the courses of his veins. Soon afterwards, the two pods would crash right through the ship; as they crashed, causing  a small explosion because of the pressure of the pods, Loki would emerge, seeing several people on the floor. He got out unique fighting claws that came with his suit, looking around, keeping his senses up. It was about to start. The beginning...he felt it.  

–[Wounded Warsong.] Eager protectors of the worlds and universes became common to the Vernichtung Sektor’s journeys. Their sole purpose was simply to clear, or cull, the targeted area for subsequent terra-mining. Upon countless surfaces, there was at least something of value to the Fourth Reich. The matter expectantly brought protest even by those considered generous. It was only necessary after the first bite many years ago. Indeed the Nazis had few allies outside of convenience, having befriended only those (somewhat) like-minded within the infinite factions. Perhaps this was to be one of them? After all, they knew little to nothing about this place and its denizens; a ship in a glass bottle, for now.


In this world, it had taken a bit longer than anticipated to detect a welcoming party. So respectable their (presumed) military was, to grant such a large window. That chaotic sphere surrounding the ship had grown rapidly overtime like a cancer. It now stretched but a mile or so outward before its density took quite the reduction. Minor separation in the seeded field occurred every few meters across the vast space, mapping out the many layers that built this universe. Fragments of information were relayed back to the many sources, cycling through at nearly one trillionth of a second (perhaps diminished slightly with the lessened exposure to the first two dimensions). There was no hiding one’s consciousness within the infinite, only running. The very forces that they themselves manipulated governed their very existence. Absorption (from the target) carried its own method of detection; gaps within a harmless swarm of particles. It touched the bay in a harmonious rain but only so much could reach. Faint signatures likely to be amassing troops or the Magister’s own through the wards. Identifying the parties was imminent, but picking up names was arbitrary; they truly knew nothing personal about them. There was only the entity and through the consciousness the dimensional energies are woven into their hands.


Each Nethuamamagos would sense the first stone thrown, in the form of a charging man. Although this hubris approach was closely monitored, most of the group did little against it. Those bursts of speed would bring him deeper into the sea of particles, the polyps’ interacting initially with the resonance. They analyzed it, whether it was accumulation, repulsion, etc. Simply the levels of these various factors revealed what was needed. Passively this distortion permeated the space, even the Magister would feel this in the link to Adell. Meanwhile, a fraction before the man would suddenly stop, Eisenwald’s peculiar staff would act. Its body snapped back whilst swiftly fanning out its tiny limbs, energy spilling forth as blinding pulsations of light. This influx came into view almost a quarter way into Adell’s second boost. Vumvumvum-eeeeaaah! The mighty war drum rose from beneath the cry of the engines. Small but condensed digits of static rose and danced above the fading, plasmatic cascade – etheric claws scratching at the infinite, infected by the tumorous facilitators.


The man’s speech was heard through mirroring radio-waves, continuing to watch his actions in extremely small increments. The outline of his fist was drawn within the hosts, knowing Adell was to discover the true nature of the field. Adell’s fist would simply pass through the field’s threshold without resistance, but there was consequence. It had never been solid, the pulses’ instability and recurrence working their advantage. The energy would slowly slip (if not focusing intensely) from whatever had submerged, the very influence allowing one to harness and contain was attacked. A presence inflicting but a tap compared to what was to come (read blow). One of the polyps among the crowd, clinging to the Nethuamamagos, had targeted him. Despite it being not truly threatening, he would not acknowledge this revelation in time. Almost midway into that powerful thrust of brute’s fist, a single but large flux whipped forward – attracted to one of many outer-mundane forces presented. It accelerated through the anomalous bubble, tainted and pushed just fast enough to meet the punch once it was a thread toward completion. It was not half-hearted, after all, so contact was inevitable. The charge was amplified exponentially by the intrinsic fields of the Nethuamamagos, rivaling (or possibly surpassing) that of the brute’s own. At the very least the two equal but opposite forces would collide, ultimately canceling one another out. What Adell had gathered thus far was to escape through the arm in a violent scatter of meta-galvanized radiation. His own chi (and others passively intertwined) turned raw, surging up the pathways and damaging the structure down to the very energetic foundation. A spreading immolation that was determined through the man’s (energy) levels; whatever Adell had put in was used against him – Which was respectable, as quoted ‘physical force would probably prove powerful enough’ for what he thought was a shield. Even if there was a subsequent projection, it too would lose that control, leaving only momentum to carry what it could before eventual dissipation. The backlash upon the host appeared to be a light rippling from the singular polyp through the others surrounding it, distributing the excess to the masses. Effectively one would destroy a tank from the inside if they did not wish to chew away at the outer shell, or rather the dermis in this case.


"Velkommen indeed," Eisenwald was of course being jovial in his own way, low and somewhat off-putting. Indeed it was Adell that had dug his own grave. Close to a second after the arc, a few of the forward defenses would aim in the brute’s general direction. Blam-blam-blam! The reaction was unnaturally quick, unleashing a hell fire of high-caliber ammunition that lit the sky like fireworks. Sabots of an unknown mixture sped forth from recoiling barrels, each shell protecting a depleted-uranium core. But this was no show without the induction cannons whose stake-like rounds then tore the air asunder, an inferno pouring from their ever-sharpening tips. Normal soldiers manning the others took this cue to pepper the brute of a man as well. There were intervals with the rail weapons, the alloy barrels heating up with the charged coils they encompassed. The Nethuamamagos did not join directly, waiting for the right moment and target. After all, a general was not a shock trooper.


This initial whip of dangerous energies was only the beginning, more shooting forth instantly after the (more than likely) connection. Their direction was more randomized, now, but in overwhelming numbers – Striking areas several times to create a near-constant. Twisting (and seeded) branches of white traveled past the field, to the skies and the sea below. Kiish, kiiish, kiish! They flashed through the heavens, sapping the very heat from the sky. This abrupt cold in correlation to the current temperature rapidly generated clouds – growing as they were gently pushed toward the shore by natural winds. Particles within scraped against one another in the unrelenting commotion, brief eddies brimming with visible sweeps of energy. It was only right to assume that these ‘entities’ imbued the very storm brewing.


The wall thickened and thunder roared, often superimposing one another with little pause between. What seemed to be that same crackling lightning rolled over the tumbling clouds through their advance. Oi, this moisture, you should have gotten that cream you Germans advertised on your televisions. I don't need it, it would be nice, There would be no rain hitherto, Asher simply proclaiming his suffering and wishes to the group. It encouraged the others to speak, starting with Oscar whose banter was predictable. Ever had sex in the rain? Ho-ho! I haven’t, but I have seen it, a lot. Like right up in there. Eisenwald’s had its own remark to the conversation, Oh you fellas, Slow and drawn out, it placed a period at the end of their back-and-forth until the remaining Lanugeists chimed in.


Eisenwald had finished the second sigil during the Adell encounter, but that hand was not free yet. He began another with those two digits extended, its curvature akin to the first letter that had manifested. After the second, another polyp dangling from the back had lost its radiance after a strange membrane slid over its shape. The initial symbol would transition to the left shoulder, as the second would move to the opposite. Klaus and Hans had did so as well, including the starting of another.


Eventually others piled into the fray, wishing for blood or perhaps guarding the land. These parties came consecutively it seemed. One was observed through its shape, the high exposure of quintessence making it a virtual beacon – The other was unsolved, presumed to be a massive object or a large force. Displacement or the quantum rain would herald the woman’s vessel depending on how she appeared. If she were utilizing a form of non-locality, formation was to be compromised, pushed outside the field. It was merely relocation just outside. Still the response to the latter was the same. A plan had been in motion whilst the enemies had prepped for arrival.

The Nethuamamagos were already warned ahead of time, but this time Hans would perform. There was sudden jerk that rushed through the helicraft, its structure moaning as the woman’s derelict craft was just beginning its path. Invisible but dense waves pushed at the air, compacting it for the needed heave. Those who had not anchored (or fastened) themselves were tossed aside. Controls at the helm rang, warning of cycle adjustment within the engines. The men at its command did little as they braced themselves, desperately grabbing at whatever they could. Carts and loose cargo tumbled to the right of the runway. The Nethuamamagos were likely inflicted with insignificant bump, except for Hans of course. Their massive craft strafed to the left at an abnormally high speed before its nose would turn approximately forty five degrees. All this happening the moment it was too late for the woman’s craft to cease its swift linear approach. “Yes, yes! Can you feel zat? I am so hawd right now,” Hans had exclaimed yet what one could distinguish as a mouth opened very little, only to let out tiny hisses. His initial words came out as feminine shrieks conveyed by a bellowed tone before then announcing his pleasure in the situation. Asher expressed disgust and ranted on, somehow working the skin cream into the subject. This single craft of the Nazis had been moving at an unhurried pace for a reason, why it still was above the ocean and far from the shore; easier to move and the abundant moisture. As for the option of relocation, it had changed part of the plan, Hans repulsing the ship forward instead.


The actions Hans took were also for the incoming mechanical giant at the rear, the ship's right corner now facing it. Once it had entered an adequate range, guns on the opposite corner and the remaining at the starboard bow let loose a barrage of anti-air. Tracers fired in beautiful curves with any change of location, maintaining the triangular volley with their sights on the mobile suit’s sides. Each one more than capable of tearing (or severely denting) most plating, beyond mundane standards nevertheless. There was another surprise waiting, but something had to ease the machine into the situation. If it had entered the field, it was to also find itself among interference. Its blinking from sight did nothing to conceal it within the area, need I explain why? The puppet was to lose its strings if the pilot himself was not inside to man it (or possibly through a different method), forced into dropping like a rock lest it devolved. Restrictions and controlled flow removed, meta-capable capacitors would fail; the power of the dispersal dependent on how much output there had been. Likewise to Adell, its energy-induced acceleration was stated to be quite excessive.


The woman’s ship was to emerge just as the center engine along the right side was to move into the path. There was really no possible way for this craft to fully evade such hasty offensive, sacrificing what they could. Many crewmen cowered at the sight while others focused on the task at hand, having outfitted several planes in the duration. The very instant the individuals and their ship had arrived, they were to notice what had occurred to Adell. A vacuum of this pandimensionally-charged radiation indirectly attacked their technology, preventing any radar from leaving the ship. This was due to the very nature of this zone, which in turn would affect whatever guidance system existed. Everything was to be reduced to the manual function within the disordered bubble. The helipads systems had been integrated to prevent this on themselves – each Nethuamamagos having spent days prior living beside said systems to achieve this. It was too late to change the descent through the woman’s trajectory, gravity and possibly its shape contributing. The reactors (if this was the case) that had propelled this battering ram were too assaulted, attempting to rip at the stability save for the probable protection for the system. Through either method of arrival into the sphere, an odd signature captured the attention of the Vernichtung Sektor director. Eisenwald found himself intrigued, concluding it and the universe they were in shared very similar traits with a slight tweak to its aspects of movement and separation. He wished to seek further information but was limited by his current form, relying on some gradual experimenting. The Gatemagos’s free hand was already in the process, channeling through his fingertips that stood like pillars around a small photonic ball meant for a prospective journey.


The torpedoes she had fired were to act as any other projectile without control: a subtle curve before a prompt dip down. It was unfortunate for the payload seeing as helicarrier had angled its engines in front of their route. Each enclosed fan created a cone of intense pressure through their design, funneling directly to the layers of tilted blades that whistled and whined. The planet’s own fundamental force added to the problem; only a second was to pass before the inevitable meeting of the first set. Their material was like that of the ship, an unknown alloy phase-hardened by the Nethuamamagos – Capable of withstanding tremendous amounts of abuse from even preternatural assaults. After all, it was not meant for space-travel, thus built to not vaporize from each jump. Anyways, these fans would be more than able to shred the pods and the stowaways without harm to the fans themselves. Ejecting these meant further consequences, the men and the cannons awaiting. But even escape was extremely difficult, the compression pulling upon the occupant just as well. Timing was against them. Avoiding the grasp would prove equally difficult since the distance between the two ships was limited and rapidly decreasing. If they managed to miss, the stirring waters below were there to embrace them. The woman standing at the bow was too in danger of being sucked up into the vicious fans unless otherwise secured. Cannons on the deck would fire on her, but the magick she relied on for protection was to rendered useless. Magick was an epithet to the behaviors and interactions of energy.

A polyp had focused on her upon crossing the field’s rim, ramming its entirety into her own to threaten the influence upon those many energies. Structure and its hold to be eliminated in an intercepting fashion (explained above). Its consequential reaction was negligible compared to her and her crew's comrades seeing as she had and they (as observed) utilized little of their powers. It was a tingle in the body to those touched, a funny sensation that the remaining could have experienced. Projectiles coming the woman's way ultimately were to not be deviated but rather kept on a natural course, maybe she was just lucky enough to not worry with the obstructed accuracy. The ship getting most of the brunt if the nose provided some cover. Any return fire was somehow drawn to the Armormagos, his inverted field drawing upon whatever it could but it was all something to witness for one's self. The polarity of random polyps constantly shifted based on the attacks – the only Nethuamamagos to effect solid objects as well.


Booom! The engine was no match for the falling spacecraft. It blades shattered upon impact as its inner-workings exploded and crumbled against Burning Courage's bow. The material was likely to cause some damage to said bow, just as if it hit something just as hard. The unpleasant grinding and bending of metal sounded, debris flying in all directions. The collision caused the helicarrier to tilt, the crew scrambling about the runway pushed once more to the floor. Many held their balance but others found themselves sliding to the right side. Those closest to the edge met a most tragic demise, frantically grabbing at whatever. It still ended with them plummeting to the concrete surface of the waters. Their screams snuffed by the engines that were intact and working overtime, the loss of crewmen overshadowed by Hans' continuous yelling: "I cawn feel zee powah in mein butt!" They endured the slanting until the engine was completely broken off, the command center’s systems reporting with red screens and running diagnostics. Although it prevented a deleterious outcome, they could not afford to lose another engine. Feuer Frei! The sponsons at the starboard would ferociously blast at the woman’s ship once its nose passed through the wreckage that now rained down. Who knew if this would hit their command center? All they knew is that the ship was now to be pulverized before heading to the ocean beneath them at an accelerated rate. The pilots did their best to equalize the craft after such a devastating blow, aided by Hans. Meanwhile, Klaus still stood idle amidst the first steps of battle, that sentient mortar now vibrating to the point it was visually nothing more than a dark shape whose edges feathered into into the ambient.



Ramstein: [ N ] [ A ]



Eisenwald: [ N ] [ A ]



Zerstoren: [ N ] [ A ]



[Will be correctin' some grammatical and English errors if I find them, or if there are any redundancies. Think I got them all. Nothing at all was changed, just made it look like it wasn't written by an elementary schooler.]

-[Genesis of Annihilation.] Entrance through the blazing ionic portal was an anomalous event of incredible magnitude and fearsome awe, undoubtedly soon drawing attention to the peculiar intruders. The elite of the eradication division had gathered upon the deck of behemoth construct at attention on the eve of conquest - and likely bloodshed - after emerging from the torn fabric of this universe. Unremitting and discordant pulses from the sentient multitude hummed across the deck, filling the atmosphere with dimensionally augmented energies. These chaotic notes deafened in the roar of the immense engines around them. If any had been unaware of their hard-to-not-notice arrival beforehand, then the radio-wave bombardment of the distant coastline would state their intents and purposes clearly enough.

[3?]:

"Verstanden," Maximilian (Anfallen) complied tersely - but respectfully - in the tongue of the abandoned realm. His sunken eyes were trained on the Kommandant as he had relayed orders to each and they remained focused as such until after a disengaging salute. He twisted towards the largest and most armored of them all. "You vhine like zee Jude, Cripple," A rebuke at Hans' protests, scarcely acknowledging his status as athlete - let alone as an agent.

A pre-adolescent voice belonging to the Childish manifested on the permeating waves attempting to calm down the situation. You've got what it takes, Hansel. Find the 'candy' house and all will be right. Maximilian ignored his suit's nonsensical babble and also gave no further regard to the brutish Armormagos. Meanwhile the 'child' continued to banter on with its fellows in an odd tone that had seemingly innocent connotations. Poppy is my favorite. Maybe that will help with your sinuses, Asher! It chuckled happily before starting to hum.

The entity swathed him in a grown carapace: dark, ridged plate sprouting prominently whilst the smooth, tan counterpart grew over the areas with shallower growth and formed segmented covering over portions requiring flexibility. Blades honed to a deadly edge extended parallel from the forearms and planed shell on the shins provided additional offense. There were a number of armored maws embedded within the suit's ecosystem with jagged teeth clenched tightly together. Fwuuup-click! At once they all opened and drew air internally, the Nethuamamagos' body expanding in the process before all snapped shut. The segmented areas of armor and the joints appeared to puff up for a moment, but then suddenly returned back to normal as gasses within were condensed.


His harness was customized, requirement due to the configuration of his suit; straps of Kevlar woven nylon secured to his torso, given appropriate holders for his weapons and ammunition (along with extra pouches for various needs). Long, cloth tassels with small, faintly luminescent symbols of sacred geometrical origin aligned vertically either side of the notorious symbol of Nationalsozialismus; crimson-stitched Swastika pronouncing his loyalty displayed swaying over shoulders and front and back of thighs. A metallic badge clipped to the belt bearing the insignia of Vernichtung Sektor. Kept securely sheathed upside-down on the left pectoral a double-edged combat knife (11' phase hardened steel alloy). Held across the lower back a dieselpunk-esque semi-automatic rifle compacted to fold in on itself, and a massive broom-handled pistol holstered on the right hip. Ammunition listed accordingly: 2x 11.43mm lead magazines, 1x depleted uranium sabot, 1x nitroglycerin; 2x 12mm lead clips, 1x hollow point, 1x neutral rounds.


Vuuum... As ordered, the Assaultmagos swiveled (180°) to face the stern and raised his right hand in front of chest, arcs leapt through the array while an intense ionization took place at the ends of two extended digits. A counter-clockwise stroke drawn curving down left a shimmering trail in the air, subtly growing in definition as peculiar influences seeded the stroke. The jaw of the sentient blade buzzed as it peeked out from its limb-bound lair, a trio of thin, fleshy tongues waving lethargically from its throat before plated claws pulled its body far enough from Max's elbow to expose the two membranous forms which joined in with the chorus. Energy pooled during its exposure, the jutting hilt passively cycling into the field that its cohabitors propagated while it drew from the ambient.

The engine of a distant vehicle roared to life from the carrier's port; focused pulses easily carried across the enriched span between to spark the ignition by means of outlandish technomancy originating from the humming azure beacons. Each flared bright as they shared the load of energy that coursed throughout the hovering warship, their influence reached further than the usual ten foot radius (inverse-square affected) due to the cancerous reach of the collective and the metaphysically-conductive nature of the very ambient along with every piece of equipment aboard. It jolted through the vehicle easily and began the engine with as much as that.


Max began to walk towards the side of the carrier the plane was located. In front of him the sigil remained while he strode, harmonized with his casual pace so that it could continue siphoning from the communal perpetuation. Along the way a cylindrical kiosk rose prominently from the flat plane of the deck, jutting outright as the machinations were activated from afar, contained within the compartment were several rows of bulky metallic canisters with a dragon in the center of a triangle engraved into each. Some of the polyps reversed their polarization, as easily as a child taking candy from a shelf four of those were snatched forth with invisible hands to clip onto the harness.Though weighty in appearance, he showed no strain or fatigue from the objects which hung from four-tiers (higher and lower) and there was also no question as to the precision of balance he took while continuing on.


Klaus' announcement was voiced across the ship, in quick action the plane that roared was addressed quickly with the packages attached. The mundane among them had acclimated the nature of their superiors and understood full well what was required.

As he grew closer to the vehicle all who were near came to immediate attention and near-reverence, the abnormal sounds emanating from his form announced the biological soldier's approach clearly despite the already present clamor. The field increased to an all new density and the crew could feel the tingle in their skin as they were showered in a cascade of harmless particles which glanced back to the sources carrying information from every direction. Vuum-vuum-vuum! A cry of completion as the first construct was complete. He reached to swipe down the center, then a light of great intensity shone from the arcing azure mark as it manifested, thereafter gravitating to position itself hovered just above the upper left shoulder between a maw and set of soft, larger mandible (vaguely similar to Klaus') - above the three tassels hung from the shoulder which split apart for the polyps at the attachment to the harness. In correspondence a skin covered polyp extending from his back lost the glow from its tip as it animated the plasmatic mark with the ability to unlock higher dimensions through such sacred geometry. With renewed intensity the chaotic pulse field overtook nearly all noise with the constant hum of many. Immediately following in succession with this his left arm bent at an awkward angle to draw yet another stroke, arcs streaking towards his fingertips once again, this to be shaped into the form of a cocked, upside-down 'L'. The faint glimmer increasing steadily as a portion were devoted to its sowing.

Before him was an aircraft of advanced design, though aesthetic seemed as if outdated by the standards of many places throughout the infinite. The vehicle was roaring with a life mechanical, he began to step towards the cockpit and with the plane so integrated, it was simple for the polyps to manipulate the machinery to flip the hatch open revealing a set of mechanical controls and a single seat. He had arrived in time for much of the work to be near completion, the swiveling turrets attached to the underside of each wing held devastating ammunition while the missile-tubes set closer to the underside contained one missile in each with the same dragon mark encompassed by a triangle etched into the head. There were still preparations to be made, for but a little while longer those packages were attached until the plane had rows with interconnected wiring that was being riveted with metal plates over-top.


The unmistakable information of the initial vanguard Look at the fool man! He attacks at the air. How does he think he can do that with us here, big brother? Oliver addressed Max, though only received a scoff one could almost interpret as a short sardonic laugh. Adell approached and once within range he would be targeted for utter and total obliteration, let alone the sudden shock of having all the energy contained within oneself suddenly lose control from a violent flare of energy reaching to strike, but the following onslaught of munitions let loose upon the vanguard would (possibly) turn there into little except a scorched, hole-riddled corpse. This defensive extermination was to be followed with the clouds of a storm artificially produced from the variance in temperature created by the maneuver. "DAS ENDE IST NAH! NAH! NAH!" A voice full of fervor shot across the ship in that moment after the release of both metaphysical and physical might. From the bow and across the deck the mundane soldiers repeated in equally crazed shouts, "NAH! NAH! NAH!"

High above in the troposphere the gigantic mechanoid could be vaguely sensed with the very extent of the mile-wide diameter of galvanized radio-waves, though its aetheric capabilities would be reduced the further it plummeted into the field once it reached the threshold that radiated from the slow-moving vessel. The closer it came, the clearer defined. It was indeed a beacon to them all with the energy it was broadcasting. Max had been waiting for something of this caliber to shunt itself into the battle; its colossal size made it pronounced in the tainted atmosphere. If a pulse were to be engaged in a futile attempt at disrupting the field as if it were a 'shield', one of the entities would analyze the frequency and hurl itself across the field to shock the system, unleashing the energies contained within the engines so they surged with enough power to bring about a likely overload. As it was to proceed (unless somehow halted), the potential meta-energy the massive robot carried within itself would be set free of its influence and cause damage from within. Of course, this only taking place if it were to descend into the denser portion, though its speed and momentum would carry it quickly within range.


Vuum-vuum! Another call echoed from the Assaultmagos, in a dazzling flash of light the second sigil was brought to completion. It vibrated intensely before moving to rest on the shoulder opposite of its predecessor; this came about the time that those workers had finished their outfitting of the vehicle. A brisk walk to the left side of the plane and he easily leapt forth into the cockpit, the glow from the marks danced upon his armor's surface as they raised to hover down and rest anchored centimeters in front of either pectoral plate. He closes the hatch with a heavy thud while seating himself before the personnel back away, a path being cleared for the aircraft to take off down the runway.

Suddenly the vessel was yanked through the sky to angle itself in a less destructive path. From directly above the large ship materialized with the woman at its bow, all the fire either being drawn towards the Nethuamamagos responsible for causing such upset aboard or simply being vaporized by the turbines that it was imminently headed for. Though the men who were about had been thrown to the ground, the scout plane remained stable due to locking mechanisms holding the wheels to the deck. The conductive materials easily carried the influence from the polyps to unlock the mechanisms. Both turrets on the underside of the wings began to tilt up-and-down and side-to-side in a diagnostic manner. He taxied forward and gained velocity quickly across the deck towards rear starboard, around quarter-way from where he began, the wind caught under the wings and brought lift. Max drew back on the yoke to gain additional altitude. It continued forward and upward as the ship came crashing down from above; finned ammunition streaked through the air, tracing towards the side to send depleted uranium cores penetrating into the deck and up as the turrets snapped to focus and began to unleash a line of the large rounds on their own. Anyone caught aboard the deck would be peppered with the salvo of high-caliber rounds. This was but a glancing assault, yet the damage was potentially great to the vessel. Altitude was being further increased as he passed by, upon reaching the angle towards the fast approaching automaton (two miles by this time and fast closing to the point where it could no longer slow down in a practical manner) there was the whipping of harsh wind outside the left side of the reinforced hatch. A pillar of twisted wind reached forth into the sky to that side where the turbine lay, whereas on the right was the towering command structure. His ship was to pass several hundred feet above the deck, high enough to reach adequate escape, yet low enough to avoid being drawn into the great column and shredded by its source.

Were it to continue and lose its control, venturing within the radius, the tracers fired from the port rear of the warship would maintain bombardment to the side of the mechanoid. Meanwhile as Max continued to ascend towards it, another volley of munition flashed across the darkened sky from those turrets to impact the joints of each shoulder, converging the firing line onto the head before it spread back to soften up the shoulder. The plane's course would be centered even with the giant and auto-adjustments constantly took place to ensure it was not lost. A hail of the anti-armor bullets would be continually streaming from the barrels of the large guns. If it were to in someway break its descent before pushing past said field, Maximilian would proceed to fire the missiles emblazoned with the same dragon symbol as on the canisters attached to his harness. Once launched they would spiral towards the flying hunk of metal, fins akin to the sabot rounds extending to aid its flight. The tips were attracted to the metaphysical nature of the robot, should evasion be attempted, they would arc unnaturally towards the shoulders.

[8?]:

"Heilige Brüder," The Eighth addressed the gathered congregation as he walked up behind them. Within the confines of the behemoth vessel Joachim (Zeuge) had been at work performing a ritualistic ceremony to sanctify and integrate further with the ship. He passed a low chuckle while peering out over the waters with that single, large eye as he approached to stand beside the rest, giving an honorific bow to Klaus yet still peripherally keeping Eisenwald in sight. "Zee preparations haf been completed vithin. Commune vith zeh awhk vill come easy." The creature clinging to his head formed a hood with armored segments that framed the abnormally large eye, legs wrapped around his face and neck, they tightened momentarily to pull the tail-like extensions that hung down his back, the odd dermal layering appeared to ripple before falling slack against his body.

Gnashing words cut into his mind, That was pathetic, you couldn't appease me with that poor excuse of ritualism. Sandraudiga barraged into his thoughts, though displayed no outward attempt at joining into the others' conversation. Prepare the meat for this slaughter, murderer, The feminine voice relayed his orders condescendingly, but he took them with calm despite the less-than-pleasant memories brought to mind by them - dead and gone.


Fwush-fwush-fwush! Not far behind the wing-like limbs of the living bow flapped in intervals before gliding along the pulses of his field and veering downwards to hover horizontally in front of the Reconmagos' left hand. The weapon engulfed his hand to the wrist and seemed to unify with its host's suit, both limbs drawn taut to recurve by a muscular cord with a dark veneer. A glowing eye rolled open as his left hand proceeded within the cavity, providing a feed to share its sight whilst clung to his arm, those polyps embedded within the bow pooled with the rest of the system.

His armor had around the same degree of protection as Maximilian's suit provided, although his was leaner and had portions that were covered in translucent feathery branches. These when shifting only slightly would cause light to be warped and minute changes re-emitted it to blend the Nethuamamagos better with the surrounding background, hitherto they only appeared to faintly shimmer with the metallic hue of the deck around. The harness he wore was standard issue, with a Swastika-stamped leather pauldron on the left shoulder which attached to several thin strips of cloth dangling with writ of sacred geometry. A ritual knife with waved blade and dark handle was sheathed on the front of his right thigh (13' phase-hardened steel, kris-patterned blade), the only other weapon being a Luger pistol holstered on the right side of the trunk (1x 9mm lead clips, 1x hollow points).


A pair of small limbs abode in his torso; they extended from the inlets formed in his chest while static current began to generate arcs at the tips of those thin, bony digits whilst they scratched at the air. In the wake of these fingers brought down in a half-loop a ghostly semicircle materialized in a luminous spectacle etched into the shimmering air before him, the seed was planted, now its form buzzed as particles were drawn in from the surrounding, galvanized in the process by energies beyond mundane perception. The mark hovered with barely any space between it and his body, giving the aesthetic of being written ritualistically upon him. In the meanwhile there was something amiss beneath the odd skin of the elongated organ attached to his right hip, it expanded and contracted rapidly, a dim glow pouring from the multiple holes arranged in a hive-like manner. It began to convulse and shudder as glands within released a number of compounds into the internal columns. Those holes tightened while inside things came to be guided in their creation, save all except the central - where there appeared to be something else in the process of development with those spasms.


He turns about-face and approaches the steps leading to the middle of the bow. At their height he pauses and surveys the carrier's surface, all whom are near seem to be swayed by the presence. "Das ende ist nah.." His voice carried amplified over the expanse, though the words were slow and dull in the ears of those aboard. "Zeh light shall bring salvation, und it shall reach to smite all who defy. All resources vill come undah our dominion! Zey vill take knee before our might and be shown no mercy!" A free-hand he raised to gain their attention. ..skritch.. skriiitch... skrk.. The hood relinquished a measure of its hold as a strange flat bug crawled out from underneath and simply took to orbit so it was situated above one of his shoulders, vibrating intensely, so much so that it released a low hum as legs that had extended took on a sort of resonance. Along with this a being that fluttered from the opposite side appeared, an eye staring forward from the living thing as it hovered above the other shoulder, a faint shimmer hanging in the air where its wings had fluttered past. "Das ende ist nah!" It reverberated across the entire ship as that skittering creature amplified the impassioned tone carried over the pulse field they rode. "Sacrifice is requiahd for zee cause!" The men erupted in shouts as he continued and raised both bow and free arm skyward. Vuuummm! The slender forefingers of an arm clawed across the mark's surface, it released a flash of light before affixing itself behind his left shoulder, those arms immediately took the task of beginning the angled outline of yet another.


The air twisted around the arc as it sped for the brute, deafening fire mingled with the intense buzz of the whipping arm of energies. "Vernichtung! Vernichtung!" Joachim fervently shouted as the humanoid form was to be bathed in destruction. Mundane soldiers and deckhands alike joined into the chanting, preparing their resolve for the oncoming battle. "For Hitler und zeh Fourth Reich!" The eminent approach of the crash-course vessel was indicated and perceived by all the Nethuamamagos. The thick-skull is readying to move us. Brace for impact and finalize integration.. Once again Sandraudiga addressed him mentally, not quite as harshly - at the least it could be described as indifference. "DAS ENDE IST NAH! NAH! NAH!" As the Schamane des Okkulten raved that 'the end is nigh', across the ship men lifted their voices following his, "NAH! NAH! NAH!"

Whilst they began to elevate their chants the scrawny fingers raked at the glowing symbol to bring it into manifestation. The area surrounding was illuminated by the living plasmatic entity. With this completed it moved to rest opposing the other over the right shoulder. Be prepared... 'She' whispered into his thoughts. At this time Hans began to lurch the gigantic carrier from its original path, those who were unable to prepare themselves were thrown like rag-dolls across the deck. He however, like the other Nethuamamagos, would remain firm where he stood; unseen tethers to the deck kept the tumultuous ride to a minimal bump.


Quickly succeeding the lurch, he reached to his hip with enlarged right arm and withdrew three seamless stakes between his fingers from the yet shuddering quiver, each tipped with a tapering mass with small spikes jutting every which way. They were nocked on the Nanaeel's hyper-tensile string (the earlier 'laquer' having hardened around the fibrous cord to form a protective coating) and immediately brought the weapon even on a horizontal plane; its claws holding the shafts to the fuller. He turned to face starboard while continuing to draw back, muscles within its limbs contracted to allow maximum draw. TWANG! With pinpoint accuracy each flew in an arcing path that spread them so they impaled into the metal of the deck (fore, aft, and middle), the minute adjustments beforehand calculated so every variable in place was met for them to land as desired. A deckhand positioned towards the central edge, who happened to have fallen to the floor when the vessel had been pulled was sliding feet-first towards the waters below, he released a scream of pain as one of his hands was impaled, he soon discovered the initial nature of these projectiles. The head exploded into powerful roots that entangled themselves with the flesh, sinew, and bone of the poor creature's limb, reaching to branch out within the metal underneath. In turn the others (who hadn't met this occurrence) rooted within before the shaft split open at the base to reveal fronds that waved and jumped in their environment, they fanned out as the biological casing fell aside, steadily increasing from a simple wave to near-invisible undulation as the meta-physical radiation passed through the woven comb with renewed vigor. Meanwhile the man who's hand had been mangled tried to pull free, but it was too late, he had been trapped and with this new source of nourishment the node began to snake its roots up into his body. Blood vessels were invaded as it leeched away at the organic matter, exsanguinating him until there was a dry husk prostrate beside it. It obtained gradual growth and continued to meld into the carcass subsequently. Those roots would pour from the body's orifices, seeking to anchor into the deck. Joachim proceeded to fire the remaining three, repeating the process towards port, though none were skewered by this volley.


In the air above the woman's ship had materialized just beyond the abnormal bubble around the airborne fortress and began to rapidly descend. With an upturned gaze that massive eye focused on the lone figure at its prow while one of the aircraft flew by headed towards rear-starboard at tremendous speed, unleashing fire upon its deck en passant. The final, center hole on the quiver enlarged to release a bony shaft with fletchings of thin plate. He reached and drew the living arrow out of its birth canal, there was a hook within his palm that clamped onto the shaft just in front of the nock so it was anchored. It was tipped with a sharp taper; long, jagged spikes shooting out from the head before retracting back into the shaft. Once it was nocked, he would bring the Nanaeel at rest in front of him while continuing to bear witness as the craft would be sucked into towering column of wind and the turbines generating it. The living weapon's eye rolled its stare towards the vessel, its polyps ablaze as energies were streamed from the rest. Joachim watched and waited, those little limbs preparing a third ionized body just in front of his chest. His reaction hinged upon the events that would be taking place soon afterwards.-|



Anfallen: [ L ] [ A ]



Zeuge: [ N ] [ A ]

    He put his feet in one at a time and hung off the rickety opening of the small pod’s door frame. It moaned with a pathetic metallic squeak. The man in the black coat and heavy boots thumped right into the seat with a smile.

    “Well, close the hatch. We’re movin’ down,” the man said. The door shrieked as it closed, metal scraping metal. The hatch locked and there was enough space for him to move about if need be. He settled himself comfortably on the large torn and stuffing-spilled seat, pulling at a tuft of the orange, sponge-like substance.

    “God this’ll be Hell,” he groaned.

    Out of the blue, the entire pod began to quiver and rumble, loose screws shaking with the beginning of the ignition. There was a tap at the hull and he screamed out, “I’m ready!” And he was gone. The ship shot both himself and his partner right for the engines of the ship, and with his mind’s eye, he saw nothing but the spiritual energies across the battlefield, and Adell’s was burning passionately. Though he remained blind to the engines, the man was as boisterous as ever with the ongoing battle ensuing on the outside of his little pod.

    Darkness crawled from the shadows beneath his seat and the loose opening of his clothes like a wispy fog, crawling up his body and around his shoulders. It spread thick like an added layer of armor, collecting faster and faster since the initial projection of his wishy-washy pod. The miasmic darkness progressively coagulated, turning almost liquid in substance, then hard like a shell just around his body. He moved his arms and joints were formed for his shoulders and elbows, and eventually it covered his face, with the last glimmer of courage shining in his bright, green eyes.

    While the armor of darkness hardened around the man’s body, he brought together his hands, which had not yet undergone their protection. He rolled up his sleeves a little, tapping the runic language crawling up his skin; a light flared in his little pod, creating a bridge between the gaps of distance, from the small Demiplane of Existance aptly named “The Study”. From it, a katana locked away in its scabbard began to vibrate with mystical spatial energies wrapping around the hilt of the blade and drawing it from its slumber. Black scrawl ran along the surface of the silver-coloured blade, and at the very base, nearest the guard, the black marking radiated the same purple-ish energy that the man’s wrist did. Folding together the space and creating an opening wide enough only for the blade to escape, it shot through into the pod, more specifically, into his hand.

    Holding his sword, Vinculum, he reared a single hand back and began channeling the etheric energy around his person, giving it presence. The aura around the man began shifting, changing, and glowing strands of azure. The azure energy ran along the blade, from his person and energizing it with power and sharpness. The blade’s reach far surpassed its 2ft reach, extended meters and meters. It pierced the makeshift door of the pod and continued growing in length until he thought, “Let’s go!”

    The blade’s blue sharpness began tearing through the poorly made pod’s hull, and the darkness overtook his body like an all-impact and thermal suit. It cut clean through metals and during the final moments, where the space between the pod and the engine’s funneling pressure, the blade bit into the whirling fans and through the engine’s turbine, leaving energy to slice through the metals even though they may have been super-metals, incapable of being destroyed through natural means. It was no match for the super-cut he’d preformed. Though in effect, the engine would have exploded, and the man was prepared for such a thing. The explosion would have radiated a large concussive force and flames that ate away at everything. The pod was returned to the scrap it once was. For the man, he was blown into the air and left somewhat unharmed from the explosion itself. There were small punctures in his black suit of armor, with the tips of metal just barely poking into his skin, letting nothing but a single drop of green and black blood to bubble at, yet not drip. He soared through the air until he skidded across the earthen ground, letting his blade fall next to his head and piercing the ground. The darkness faded from his body, and all that was left was Riku Hell Kaiser Nightmare on the floor with a nasty cough.

    “Holy crap THAT WAS FUN!”