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

3B, in which Zagreus chokes out an Olympian

[dyingpro]

A pale arm suddenly comes from behind Apollo and grabs him in a headlock, forcing him to arch painfully backwards. And just behind his shoulder is a flash of eternally-burning laurels, followed by mismatched eyes glaring daggers at the back of the man's head. "She belongs to no one but herself," Zagreus growls through gritted teeth, only squeezing harder on the Olympian's neck, tugging him backwards and hopefully, away from Persephone.

Zagreus finally gets a read on this man's godhood, and he gets a burst of the sunrise, and a flash of heat on his skin that he's only felt a few times before. The sun God, Apollo? This is troubling, but Zagreus will not let up, instead intent on taking Apollo to the floor as soon as he lets go.

[springforth]

There's only one good part of this, he lets her go. Too busy clawing at the arm at his throat to worry about her, too busy cursing this stranger, calling him every insult in the book. And it burns. It burns that Apollo sends her speechless with fear, cowering in his grasp, that Zagreus has to help her, has to know this god tried to claim her, that there's something there to know.

Where is that deep dark feeling, that horrible desire to violence that only rears its head at the worst moments? Never like this, when she needs it, never when she's trapped or afraid.

It burns and burns. The humiliation of it all. What had she wanted to do, had fantasized about doing when she thought she'd return to this moment? Run away? Claw at his face, kick him? Oh--right.

Around Apollo's feet curl up vines, slow and steady, with sharp thorns. It only takes one wrong move for him to go still, those golden eyes meeting hers with an unmistakable mix of anger and something that is not betrayal. It's closer to how one might pick a rose and have the audacity to be angry about the thorns.

[dyingpro]

He's heard it all before. Hellspawn. Trash God. Useless. Fool. Spoiled Brat. Incompetent. Embarrassment. The words do little to sting Zagreus, who simply keeps his grip taut on Apollo's neck despite the deep scratches and awkward punches he's receiving from the struggling God. So what if Apollo sees that he has red blood instead of ichor? It makes him no less a God, and no less a fierce defender of his friends in their time of need.

Zagreus senses the swell of life at their feet, but doesn't look to see what it is. Instead, the prince jabs the back of Apollo's knees, forcing him down to the floor. He lets go midway down, letting Apollo tumble forward onto all fours. But Zagreus does not relent, pressing his foot down in the middle of Apollo's back, burning a foot-sized hole in his perfectly fitted, black long-sleeve shirt before he is sent sprawling on his stomach. Stygius comes out, then, and the point of the large sword rests a few inches from Apollo's neck. Both Zagreus' mismatched eyes and Stygius' gem-eyes gleam down at him with malice, ready to finish the blow should Persephone not succeed in restraining him or if Apollo tries anything related to his powers.

"It's only out of respect for your gift to Orpheus that I'm not hacking you to a million pieces right now, Cousin," the prince growls, his canines bared in a snarl at the epithet. "But I can't say the same for her," Zagreus lifts Stygius' point slightly towards Persephone, and then cocks his head toward the window at the floating magenta God aiming an arrow directly at Apollo, "nor for him. Do you really want to test your luck twice more?"

[springforth]

Those golden eyes glow with fury, no longer directed solely at her. It has to hurt, the thorns tearing through his skin as he falls, the burn on his back. It's cathartic, the way his jaw clenches to hold back any noise of pain as the skin sizzles, as his shirt singes and smokes. He may be god of the sun, but it still hurts, this chthonic fire, so unlike the sun in every way.

Her vines do not slow, merely shifting around Zagreus and his foot, encasing his torso and starting to twine around his throat. Let him deal with the powers of a B-grade goddess. Let him feet the thorns at the bob of his throat and think better of speaking.

"He's not worth bloodying your hands."

Then Persephone starts, looking at Eros through the window. Hadn't she noticed him at home, maybe just out of the corner of her eye? She steps to the window, ignoring the sun god at her feet.

[dyingpro]

Eros lowers his bow once Persephone finishes handling the situation, and Zagreus in turn takes his foot off of Apollo's back to let the vines entangle him even further. "You are a very, very lucky God, mate. But I wouldn't push my luck any further, if I were you. Go home."

He then sheathes Stygius, making his way to Persephone's side to get a better look at the figure outside the window. He's a handsome lad, very clean cut and youthful, but that's not what catches Zagreus' attention. When Zagreus tries to read this God's domain, he feels a flush to his skin, the sensation of lips pressing against his, and the sound of a soft sigh in his ear that makes his cheeks burn. Zagreus puts a hand to his face for a moment, wondering if something's wrong with him at first, and then it dawns on him.

"Oh. Oh. He's one of Lady Aphrodite's children, isn't he?" He presses his hand to the glass, then, leaning forward a little to get a closer look. "Is he your friend, Sephe? Since he's still mean-mugging Apollo, he's all right in my book so far."

[springforth]

Persephone doesn't turn at the flash of light behind them as Apollo disappears. She throws open the window, watching Eros lower his bow. His bow falls slack at his side at the sight of her tear stained cheeks and the fading red in her eyes. Persephone reaches for him, arms outstretched for a hug.

"Eros." She says, a greeting and an explanation, "Gods, I missed you."

And when he hugs her, tight and warm and half in and half out the window, she mumbles, "I wish you were here. Really here. You could meet Zagreus and Than and everyone and I could have someone to... Someone to talk to. Someone who knows, understands."

[dyingpro]

"Eros," he repeats back, the name foreign on his lips, but surprisingly pleasant. He wonders if his world's Eros would be friends with him. If he's anything like this Eros, so lovingly embracing Persephone in her time of need, then Zagreus is sure they would get along. Zagreus moves out of the way for the son of Aphrodite, giving an awkward smile to the nymph on his back, who appears to be trying to shift her weight to accommodate their new angle.

"You don't have to tell me anything if you don't feel like talking, or it's too painful, or difficult to talk about, but... I'm here, if you need someone to listen. I'm a poor substitute for Eros, I know. But it's got to be better than never talking about them, if all they do is make you feel more miserable. You don't deserve that, Sephe. Nobody does." Instead of surrounding her with a hug of his own, and potentially making her feel trapped, Zagreus simply places his hand between her shoulderblades and rubs gently. He's here, if Persephone needs it, and he's not leaving unless she needs him to leave.

[springforth]

Persephone curls her arms tighter around Eros, feeling selfish in ignoring the nymph at his back, but unable to deal with anything more. He mumbles something soft and comforting, asks if she wants to get away or stay, and she says nothing in reply to either of them. Then slowly, softly, with her still faced away from the hand on her back, she speaks.

"This wasn't the beginning of things with Apollo. And it won't be the end, I'm sure." Her voice strains, going thick with tears she's trying not to shed, "If time moves on at home, my mother will miss me, she might be doing to my world what she did to yours. And if it doesn't move on, I end up back in this moment. And I'm terrified. I kept telling myself what I'd do if I was back here, how I'd fight back or say the right thing, but I still froze. I keep freezing--he scares me. And I couldn't tell Artemis and I couldn't say anything to anyone--I didn't want anyone to know about this. This was supposed to be over. I only ever told Eros and he--he--he promised not to tell anyone. So it was over."

[dyingpro]

Zagreus doesn't dare interrupt, letting Persephone spill out all her pent-up fears and anxieties. It's hard to hear, that she's blaming herself for something that rightly isn't her fault. None of it is. "But there's no guarantee your Demeter is doing anything of the sort. My world and yours are different, remember? Hades is a right arsehole in mine, Than's an arsehole in yours." He tries to crack a slight smile for her, moving from her shoulderblades to carefully comb his fingers through her hair, now long and draping all the way to the floor. He carefully picks out the remnants of the red thorny vines from the massive wave of pink as he tries to determine exactly what he wants to say. Running his mouth like he usually does would not avail him in this situation.

"Of course I won't tell a soul. You have my word. I'll-- I'll swear a blood oath if you don't believe me, or you really want to be sure I won't tell, but please... talk to me." His fingers pause their careful combing, as he presses his forehead gently against the mass of pink curls. "Keeping any of this locked away, it's only going to make it feel worse. It's only going to hurt you more and more until it consumes you. I can speak from experience on that one. I want to help you, Sephe. You mean the world to me, and I can't bear to see you suffer alone."

[springforth]

It's been a struggle not to cry. Listening to Zagreus speak and quietly pull out those vines as they wither in her hands has made this struggle ten times worse and the dam breaks as he leans on her, sounding so much like the god in her arms that she has to sob. No one was supposed to know. It was that awful secret that would destroy her if she brought it out to sunlight, if she told anyone anything. It was something she would have with her all her life, this awful terrible tie to him that time would never erase, but she could eventually ignore.

"I--you don't have to swear," Persephone hiccups, "I just--There's nothing I can do about any of it! I'm here, he's not, I don't have to think about his stupid face or the way he keeps prodding his way into my life or his delusions of love or the way he thinks I'm not actually worth anything! B-grade goddess--I don't want to think about him. I'm so tired of thinking about him, I though this was a reprieve. He couldn't put his hands on me again, he couldn't do anything if I wasn't in his grasp. But I can't even kiss someone without freaking out! He's still--he's still trapped under my skin."

[dyingpro]

Zagreus grits his teeth at hearing all the suffering Apollo's caused. He'd heard the many stories of his Uncle Zeus doing whatever he wanted, taking whomever he wanted, but hearing the tale of his Godly son doing the same to someone the prince cared about... it made his blood boil in a different way. This time it was personal in a way he couldn't justify from an outsider's point of view, or pass off as just rumor or a misunderstanding. This time he could see first-hand just how damaging it was to mortal and God alike.

Something Persephone mentions makes Zagreus start, his demeanor instantly shifting to defensive. "Beta-grade? Is he mad?! You've saved a dying world, Sephe! And that's only since I've been here! How can he-- rrgh, look, that bastard's clearly in the wrong, on all of this. On trying to possess you like you're some trophy, on your worth, on what he means to you... and on the influence he thinks he has over you. I know you can fight him off if you ever get put back in that terrible moment. I'll help teach you, if that's what you need, but he holds no power over you. Not here, not at home, not ever."

The prince nuzzles his face into her curly tresses for a moment, wishing he could hug Persephone tight, wishing that she wasn't still clinging to what he knows to be an illusion, as comforting as it is to see her friend from home. He wishes he could take even the slightest bit of her pain away. Instead, he drops the remains of the vines to the ground, turning to ash upon contact with his feet. Then Zagreus reaches under her chin to try and direct her gaze to his face, stern yet calm in his concern. "Your domain is your own, your mind, your body, your choices, your spirit - all of them are yours and yours alone. And he can never, ever take that away from you, no matter how much he tries. No matter how close or how far away he is. No matter how much you do or don't think about him. You're you, Sephe, and you've always been, and you always will be."

[springforth]

Her sobs turn harder, shaking her shoulders with their force. Gods, she wishes it were true. She wishes he couldn't take things from her, but he has. He's taken her choices, he's taken her body, he's taken parts of her that she's not sure she'll get back. His gaze, calm and focused, is a balm and a torture. He speaks words she wants to believe but she still hates that he's seeing her like this. Of all the train, who, besides Zetta, would she least want to see her in this weakness and this shame? But she had told him and it would forever be a part of how he sees her.

The realization makes her pull away, try to gasp for breath, to catch herself and try to stop the sobs in the moment. It only makes her sob again, another gasp as she tries to catch it.

"I've not--I've not done anything at home. The most important thing I've done--" Her shoulders lift with a sob as she gently extracts herself from Eros. He's clearly reluctant, but she keeps pulling herself away. Pulling in on herself, making herself small. She almost confesses her other fear, but stops herself short. This is already part of how he'll see her. Let her wrath be something he doesn't have to know yet.

"It's nothing that would make anyone proud." She wipes at her face with her sleeve, hiding her tears and red-rimmed eyes. For once they have nothing to do with being angry. Softly, she says, "I know he's got no power over me here. But you don't...I can't do anything to stop him at home. He's an Olympian. He's twins with Artemis, he's friends with Hermes, he's important to mortals. Eros told me I should tell Zeus but what would he do? Apollo is one of his favorites."