What their Eyes See: Finale

[voidtreckermods]

It’s been a weird mission. The Voidtreckers have been busy investigating, making headway in mapping and saving citizens from the video games and strange illusionary creatures. Those in the fourth tier have made contacts, followed leads and gotten close to the high and mighty of the criminal underworld.

Yet what exactly is happening here is still unknown. Their new found ally Anan is as stumped as the rest of them, but even so, the hackers and technological knowledgeable voidtreckers have been successful in isolating the virus to study and make an anti-virus. A netpoint network has been set up across the city, and enough access data stolen that they can start throwing everything into the systems and networks across the city.

While the illusions remain a mystery and how they got there, finally the world is purged of the strange virus as the anomalies begin to clear up by noon of day ten. Spectura victims wake up in hospital beds, dazed and confused, while no more sightings of the impossible plague those on the other tiers.


On the morning of day eleven, the once housebound and terrified citizens leave their shelters with the first tendrils of light reaching through the fog surrounding the enclosed city. An exodus of people, from fighters of tier four to elites of tier one, are making their way into the streets...and heading down into lifts and outside, out into the smog-filled wasteland.

“It’s so beautiful,” is heard, a rumbling through the crowd as people smile, laugh or wave into the fog.

”I won.” Fighters from tier four look around in wonderment. Other exclamations, about a blue sky, a greeting to a friend fill the air.

There is a pull. The voidtreckers will feel it too, though to them the world looks and feels no different. This pull is easy to resist, or they can follow and investigate it, attempt to lead citizens back inside the city. It’s not safe in the smog, no one has canisters, but none will heed the warnings.

Nor is there time for better efforts when a crackling sounds in the air, light and colours flashing in the smog, everywhere at once and too quick to get a hold on.

“STOP THWARTING ME!” booms out, and a great force pushes them back while pulling the citizens farther into the wasteland, sand and dirt kicked up in a frenzied storm. The voidtreckers can hear the civilians in the smog, but getting to them will prove harder than they may like.

Grabbing an air canister is highly recommended for those who prefer life.



CIRCLE ONE: THE MAZE
No matter where one leaves the city from, they will find themselves in a maze of walls, of metal sheets, each blending into each other. It feels surreal, as if nothing is quite real, nothing quite solid.

But it is solid. For those voidtreckers who cannot see illusions it will look like they are merely stood in the wasteland of the world. But when they begin to move they will learn those walls are tangible, and those that look close enough will see the same almost-light as the creatures that purple team have been fighting as the source.

For those who are not immune to illusions it is a strange place indeed. No smog to be seen, just high unyielding barriers. The pathways are different colours giving off hues of brightest pink, red, purple, neon green, glowing white, darkest black. Sometimes there are symbols on the walls, Capsule Corp, royal insignia, ravager flames, HYDRA, marks of royalty. They are emblazoned on the walls, the floor, sometimes even in the sky. And the deeper in they get...

➤ WINDING ROADS
It's noisy as they move around. As well as the distant noise of the citizens in the distance they can hear an acoustic guitar, erratic piano playing, the sound of bamboo on stone. Or perhaps an eagles cry, a lullaby or a song is heard as they move their way through the maze.

Objects stand in their way, blocking paths and needing to be moved or destroyed. Larger than life playing cards, red apples, flowers. Spears and daggers hang in the air as does the moon and the sun. Water often cascades through routes, making it difficult to move through or fire creeps up walls, nonthreatening but ever present. There are clouds of butterflies and ravens perched on walls, watching their every move, and the smell of sugar often hangs in the air.

But it’s better to navigate these turbulent passages with perseverance than violence. Daggers and apples will shatter and slice apart to attacks, creating a way through to begin with - but those that try the method of destruction to solve their problems will find these walls crowding them tighter, rising higher, becoming all the harder to destroy than they were before. They will become trapped, and will need assistance from the outside to untangle them from webs or jails made from crystal.
➤ STALKING THE STREETS
It isn’t just the Voidtreckers or locals who wander the maze. Wolves, dogs, zombie sheep and ghost animals mostly mind their own business, sometimes inclined to growl or bahh, but easy to pass. But other times, you may sense that you’re being followed, a presence hovering over you...while another companion will see as well the large shadow shrouding you before a decaying hand grabs at you from above, threatening to send its victim to some other part of the maze if not stopped.

Monsters also stalk these paths from various realities. The dead will be met in robes of white while others in armours from medieval times. All are fast, unrelenting in their attacks, unconcerned with pain or stopping without being properly slain. Ghouls of all shapes and sizes search for prey, and many more seek victims.

How they act and how to defeat them may be known to some, but not all. Is it worth the effort to stay and fight illusions, however? Sometimes those illusions don’t give a choice, but in other instances, a person from the city may be found on the ground unconscious, the smog air getting to them. They’ll need help, and fast.

CIRCLE TWO: IS THIS HOME?
Voidtreckers will realise they’ve left the maze when they find themselves in an open field. It spreads out far with vineyards in the distance, a campsite, all of this leading into a forest of childrens board games. While the campsite is not a true campsite as many will realise, it is the first moment everyone will have to come together, to perhaps plan ahead. Air canisters are essential in this environment, and locals have been found needing, unconscious. Backtracking through the maze is a death wish for many, but with the talents of the voidtreckers, setting up a checkpoint here may not be that impossible before going on ahead.

And then, when they finally do…

➤ FAMILIAR
It is almost dream-like as they walk, areas changing without them fully crossing the distance needed. One moment they are in a shopping malls food court, the next the interior of a spaceship; streets of palaces, temples, and mansions line up as a mish-mash of glamour, while others offer more humble abodes, taverns, family homes, bakeries. Medieval structures blend into tech bases, maintenance bays and dark rooms. Beautiful gardens, beaches and dusty souks all share space. But as they move through it, they will be tempted towards what is theirs.

And these can be anything. Ships, palaces, home, and even singular rooms: all of these are seen, doors providing access, doors that draw your character towards it, as if they know what’s on the other side. Spaces personal to the viewer, and with the constant pressure of these illusions, somehow draining to be around, they will find it harder to doubt what they see. Even if their bedroom leads towards a volcano, a blacksmith housing hospital beds right beside it, it will not seem so bizarre to find these natural.
➤ DEARLY BELOVEDS
But it’s not only structures that exist in this labyrinth of streets: there are people, animals - family, friends and pets. Beloved mentors, a smiling loved one. The night sky will wash over, the ocean within view; your favourite plush rabbit, a worn jumper. Your favourite song playing, losing you inside this new reality.

Even people from the Voidtrecker Express are around, whether or not they’re still passengers. Feanor, Zetta, Noctis, Cassie Cage, Jin Ling; Elfnein, Link, Mami, Gyousou, Duo; Senku, Jiang Yanli, Olivia, Bucky Barnes. They walk this plane, friends and lovers of the voidtreckers, coaxing them further into the illusions. Assuring them everything is alright, offering reasons to give in.

Over all this though, they can still hear the citizens in the distance; their voices sounding more confused, frightened even. To push on the voidtreckers must walk away, ignore these temptations and push on to the third ring.

CIRCLE THREE: TWISTED HEART
For those who manage to get through the second circle, pushing away the temptations of home, they will find themselves back in the smog filled wasteland. But through the smog they will see more, always more. Once again the scenery blurs into impossibilities, from testing labs with padded beds, to other imagery associated with asylums of old, to dark cramped spaces, to hallways raging on fire. They sense fear itself, and even the most stoic will find apprehension digging into them as they make their way forward. Is this their fear? Or is it your own?

It may be hard to discern in this twisted reality.

➤ MISERY LOVES COMPANY
This time, as the scenery shifts around them, so does their own sense of self try to match what these places mean. The despair of being lost in darkness, the belief that they can’t be seen by others, all sound fading from their ears. They are on the moon, trapped there for years; at the edge of the vast ocean, on the bank of a river of lava, despair in their hearts. In a wrecked city, their own city destroyed almost beyond recognition. By opposing forces, by weapons of mass destruction.

They have lost everything. There’s no fixing this.

A Pandora box of fears have been unleashed, with seemingly no hope. Your worst enemy has been granted a second chance, family stumbling towards you on the verge of death before your eyes; forces that you were meant to be dealing with back home have found you, surely leaving your own world in ruins, from titans to ayakashis.

Or they might stumble upon a graveyard, stretched out as far as they can see where every name is someone they care about.

There are even voidtreckers of now and old opposing you: Danny Fenton, Lan Xichen, Darth Vader, Vegeta, Xue Yang. Kerry stands pointing a gun straight at a fellow passenger while shadowy ravens and terrifying dragons swirl in the sky.

All this emotional turmoil will do a number on the voidtreckers, but there is strength in numbers. More civilians have fallen unconscious at this point, and those willing to aid them can take them back to the city. But no matter how the voidtreckers move, they must keep their nerve and hold onto hope as they cross the final hurdles.

Comments

[yondu]

The worst part is what follows. That flinch again. That uncertain raise of arms, the way he kind of just melts into it after a moment, how he clings to his back with greedy hands.

And then the way he asks, "Wait, is this one real?"

Like maybe some damn casual affection is something he just sits around and wants sometimes,

[worthallthis]

Oh good. They were maybe half-afraid they'd get slugged. This is better, this is helping, this is a thing Yondu needs. It's also worse, though, because it means it lasts longer, which means having to resist shaking and scrambling away and the tooclosetooclose feeling. They hold still, they breathe carefully, they think of origami, and they hold Yondu back, tight and warm.

And maybe laugh a little. "Yeah, pal. I can hug sometimes. When somebody really seems like they need it."

It's not even a bad hug. They've done a couple, in the past-- mostly with Misty, who had been careful not to take too much. They might be a little proud of this one, though.

[yondu]

"Yeah, I uh... I don't-"

He doesn't need it?

For all the times that he's told people that there's a difference between living and surviving, he should know better. Always easier to say to someone else. He doesn't need it by a stretch. But what had he argued over this very trip. They could eat the damn food here and be fine, but they should eat real food because they were more than that. They needed to live.

"Right. Okay." He accepts it and, as this isn't a fake hug, he loosens his grip and returns Soldat's space to them.

And there it went. In a heave of emotional exhaustion the words leave him. If gratitude can be adequately expressed in a nod, that's what he tries to do.

[worthallthis]

Considering the way he melted into it like that, from somebody who isn't even a somebody and went about it very weird and awkwardly, yeah, sorry man, you needed it. Soldat doesn't challenge it, though, they just step back, take a couple breaths, and let the metal arm ripple through a hard, noisy recalibration. "I can offer my last couple of cookies," they say then. "Or some illusion alcohol that I don't think I smashed all of, back at what this fucking place tried to tempt me with. Or we can try and move on."

[yondu]

"I'll get my own drink later," he says honestly. "When I'm not on the job."

He pulls out a can of the air to use before resigning himself to lifting up his scarf again, hiding his face.

"...This is it, isn't it. The 'Crimson Fist' didn't wander off 'cause of no guilt or anything. He got led out here, like the rest of 'em. Like we're meant to be." He starts moving again, a little embarrassed at himself but at least confident that he's not going to be judged.

[worthallthis]

"We might well find his body out here," Soldat agrees grimly, and starts off in a new direction, in search of some way to go further rather than wallow in temptations. "I'm mad enough about it now that none of this shit really tempts me. But there's other things in my brain that could be a problem."

[yondu]

"What other things?"

He thinks he's more susceptible after having sat in a classist hell for a few days. Of being reminded of his 'place', that he'd probably never have some of the very basic things he wanted. He's just let himself want too many things with the full knowledge he'd never have any of them.

Yondu's not inherently a vengeful man. He thinks it would help in this circle if he was.

[worthallthis]

"Lots of other things," they say, somewhere between dry and resigned. As much as Soldat might occasionally daydream about shooting Alexander Pierce or Arnim Zola in the face, they're more afraid of them than angry at them. "Electricity. A. Chair. Some specific Words. A couple of the places where I was kept might throw me back. Old handlers giving orders. Steve, probably."

[yondu]

"What can I do for ya?" He asks carefully. He knows Soldat isn't much the physical affection sort. Yondu stepping in front of him and giving him a hug would probably end in Soldat standing stiffly and uncomfortably.

He even wonders if he could whistle for his attention.

"...What about that Misty girl?" The one he'd essentially been platonically married to, from the sound of it.

[worthallthis]

"Misty would never hurt me. She's not a fear." Maybe seeing her hurt or dying, but... they're not sure that wouldn't just make them more angry, send them on a spree to kill whoever did it. "Block me from seeing it. Talk. Keep me present and not. Gone." The surroundings are mostly fog, now, but there are echoing noises and odd shapes, misty in the distance. Nothing tempting, now.

[yondu]

"I thought it'd make ya feel like it didn't want you to go nowhere, an' she'd be pretty set for that."

He's still resisting the urge to go back and look at Stakar again.

"What are you expectin' now? They changin' it up?"

[worthallthis]

"No, she would never make me stop fighting if there was something that needed stopping. They tried to give me the tavern room in the Invincible. Where I used to go to listen to people, to cook meals for everyone. To not be alone." They look ahead, grim. "I smashed it up, because whoever is behind this. They don't get to take Beacon from me. It's mine."

That's why they do think it's going to change up. They've both turned their back on temptations; temptations aren't going to work. Now it's going to be something else.

2 moving towards 3

[yondu]

"This is a uh... I guess you'd call it a 'psychological' thing, but they got it all backwards. Brainwashin'. You get people to turn away from somethin' they love, you send 'em against things to show 'em how strong they are actin' without empathy. Kree'd do it sometimes."

It's then that he stops to pulls a few trinkets out of his pockets. A chicken and a pigeon he puts away. But the ceramic frog and the windmill he keeps in his hands, because like hell is he abandoning everything good right now. He's going to keep the stuff that's real.

you want Yondu's 3 or Soldat's 3 first? :3

[worthallthis]

Soldat gives a short, sharp shudder. "No. This isn't that. I've done that. This is trying to stop us. Keep us away. Keep us from helping." They breathe out slow, imagine some origami folds, and says more steadily, "Like whoever or whatever's behind this is afraid of what will happen if we find them."

Soldat's 3!

[yondu]

"I ain't completely sure. But I always made a point of fightin' with my heart. So either plan ain't gonna work."

He moves the trinkets to one hand and pulls the arrow from its holster just in case. He is getting suspicious, though, wondering what the next trick is.

[worthallthis]

The next trick is a blast of cold air, frozen air, dry and laden with chemicals, and it makes Soldat freeze in their tracks. The fog clears head of them to show a bank vault, hundreds of locked drawers, a barred door, banks of monitors and an IV stand. And smack in the middle of the room, a reclining chair towered over by a black metal halo, thick cables running away from it to an outlet in the wall.

Soldat is staring at the chair, all thoughts of calming origami flown from their head.

[yondu]

"...Oh shit."

That's the most profound thing someone can say about this place. Yondu follows him in, looking at the monitors, the chair, the thick cables.

It's not his world, but what kind of set up this is immediately evident. He's seen it before. Lived another version of it. He won't ask for the explanation, he'll wait for it to be given. Or he'll trash the shit out of this place. Whichever it is that his buddy needs.

[worthallthis]

Soldat makes it two steps before stalling out again. They can't. They can't lose their memories again. There's the echo of the words in their brain Wipe him and start over and they can't make themselves take a step closer.

(It's not real, pal. It's just an illusion. They're just fucking with you.)

It doesn't help. Unreal things can still hurt, can still do their job. The green-eyed spirit in the city was able to shut them off. The Chair might be able to do it.

Yondu will have to say something if he wants a response or explanation. Though if he doesn't offer anything, the Asset with deal with things itself, shortly, here.

[yondu]

"Look, if you're not gonna fuck this place up? Then I'm gonna. It ain't real!" He unknowingly repeats the voices in their head. He turns his arrow loose and smashes artificial screens. He goes over to the chair and starts tearing cords out of the wall.

It's the best he can do.

"This shit isn't real. What if my owners turn up in here somewhere? What am I supposed to do?!"

He's bitching as he pushes over some piece of equipment or another. "What if they try to cut another line into my face for misbehavin?! You expect me to stand there an' let 'em? Well I ain't gonna stand here an' let you bask in this shit!"

[worthallthis]

Soldat knows what they'd do if this were Yondu's owners. They'd be pulling him away, they'd be shooting them, they'd be wreaking havoc. Kind of like what Yondu is trying to do, now. (Probably with less yelling, though.)

But even if it's not real it could still work. They still can't face it. They cover their face, shaking, hunching in on themselves while Yondu knocks monitors and the IV stand over, while the Chair lurks malevolently in the middle of it all. (I can't, I can't. I can't lose it all again. I promised. Hey. Hey, nobody's gonna-- I can't. I don't have everything back. I don't have Misty. I don't have my happiest memory. I can't lose it. I haven't written it all down again, I can't lose it again--)

There's still work to do, and Soldat can't do it. So the Asset takes over. There's one more shudder, and Soldat's high, panicked mental voice retreats to a dark, safe corner, and the Asset lifts its head. It glares at the Chair. "Let me," it says, voice flat.

[yondu]

He steps back, surprised at the sudden change of voice. Yondu's no stranger to compartmentalizing; it's how he's able to do the damage that he does. He's just not seen Soldat's version of handling.

"Yeah, have at it..." he says, but if he tries to sit in that chair he's gonna drag his ass out of it hell or high water. It wouldn't be easy and he'd undoubtedly get hurt tryin', but he'd do it.

"We can just leave," he insists, though. "It ain't real, it ain't nothin'. Just air an' stolen fears."

[worthallthis]

The Asset actually considers the idea for a moment, but then decides: "Soldat needs to remember doing this." (Well, now you've fucking done it. Shut up.) It advances on the Chair, grabs the halo with both hands, and tears it free with a shriek of metal and a whine of gears.

[yondu]

He knows in one way that even them spending time on it is exactly the thing that the thing up there wants them to do. But at the same time if it would make Soldat feel better, then he should do it. He lets him take over 'cause maybe he needs to crush this little bit of his mind, as much as he needed to actually feel Stakar's face in his hands.

Yondu just digs in his pack for one of the cans of air and then holds it out to him.

"I know you're enhanced an' all that but if we're gonna spend time here ya still should take an actual breather."

He doesn't know if... whatever Soldat is right now... will care? But he still offers it.

[worthallthis]

The Asset ignores the offer for as long as it takes to tear the Chair to pieces, and hurl some of those pieces across the room. Okay, maybe it's a little angry about all this. But when it's done, and the Chair is a wreck of twisted metal and torn leather and exposed wires, standing in the middle of the room breathing harder than it would like and feeling the tickle of smog in its throat, it holds out a hand for the air.

"We will find who is behind this," it promises after a couple hits of oxygen. "And stop it."

[yondu]

"Unfortunately, I think this is somethin' like Ego. This might not be in our capability. We might need one of them God types to do it, an' our job is to make sure he don't kill all the little folks like what he's doin'."

Yondu hates this whole... shit, all of it, especially as it's so good at putting them in their place. But he wants to remind the Asset of the only part they can currently actually do.