Technically somewhat of repeat imagery, just the first two are the official sharing while the others are the screenshots from the actual pulls.
Sorry for the second post so soon after.
Corporations and companies in use of DII&E-Marked Brands and their Subsidiaries are not contractually allowed to use non-D Corp. based energy products.
If use is found out and noticed post-release of this announcement, D Corp. legally holds the right to remove all D Corp. support of any variety until compromise or recompleting the obligations marked in the original contract.
Thank you. - Palace Knossos
The doors opened to the dark room, illuminated only by the sparks and cries and horrible, hellish flames that the Boring led to and the screens of the same blue color that were being used to monitor the area.
"You're late."
"I'm here, aren't I?"
Feirefiz walked over to the observation window. The blood-soaked pus drenching the drill bit was being constantly washed off as rods forced the Wound further open.
"What's the progression?"
"Rather swell. We can't predict a date, but we'll soon reach the 210th Layer."
"Mm."
Blue eyes looked over the sorrowful excrement, wailing and screeching as they breathe and die in less than a couple of minutes.
"What's the status on the Hyadeans?"
"Hm?"
"The Hyadeans, Crown Prince Knossos."
"Mm."
"?"
"It's fine. They'll be fine. Still can't get into the Layer."
"Galatas has done what they can, Crown Prince. No ripping or tearing technology can enter something past a Singularity. It's likely it directly uses the Basement itself as a catalyst to protect them. Only the Invited may enter."
"Mm."
"... Have you been getting your sleep, Très Vénéré? I see the dark circles. You should really be keeping your health in check-"
"I'm fine."
"..."
They remained silent for a while. Eventually, he couldn't keep the nausea from flooding in.
"I'll be taking my leave," he said, rather quickly, his voice struggling. He tried to keep his gait somewhat relaxed as his pace betrayed him. By the time he was past the doors, a hand was already over his Heart and the scar from the surgery.
He needed some rest. He's overexerted himself for now.
The scarf is fixed further to hide my face. Round tinted glasses hide my eyes. My hair is dyed black and tied back as a cap covers it. Ear mits to keep my ears warm in this Layer that somehow snows.
I'd like to enjoy it but I can't. Not now.
This is my one chance. Countless papers are strewn about as my dress shoes crunch under them. I prepare to leave, fixing the trenchcoat and the suit underneath.
I never was one for this stuff, but it's what I have to do. And it feels nice to know that I can finally use all the seemingly pointless in this kind of clothes.
This is one of the few times they allow visitors. It's a private gallery, after all.
Luckily, weapons are allowed. They accept that people, especially the ones coming here, need some sort of protection.
Get in, find the information and retrieve at least a sample, get out. Once this is done, I'll be set and I can sell it.
I grab the blade as large as me with my gloved hands and begin to leave.
...
There has to be a better reason, right?
Perhaps I just don't want to admit it.
__________________________________________________
"Semph, sir?"
The older man looks to the side, tired green eyes stare at his subordinate.
"What is it?"
"I, uh... It's all set. We'll leave whenever you're ready."
The veteran nods and goes back to what he was blankly doing.
Valerie stares for a while longer. He goes to say something more but his mouth shuts. After a bit, he decides to leave.
He can't tell him that he helped his daughter. Why can't he? Fear over losing one of the few people that see him as a person? He's not too sure but he just can't say it.
His shoes pad away, closing the door behind him.
Semph's eyes move away from the now gone compatriot to what was in his hand. A simple paper. Just a childish letter thanking him. He folds it and leaves it in his padded breast pocket.
Once again, he hopes it and its writer won't be damaged.
I don't even roleplay Kaworu. I just have it as such, pretty much.
The armistice has ended for weeks now. At least in the Layers under D Corp.'s time now.
It's changed to a far more political and economical war. Most people refuse to fight, so the companies themselves are in debate after debate, council after council, arguing, negotiating and renegotiating over the Civil War.
That is, if you're not in the North.
The fronts are named as anyone would name fronts. By cardinal direction, save for the Central Front.
The problem lies in the fact the fronts are based off the direction as if you're in the Labyrinth, not as anyone else would name them. Layers that are far apart can be in the same front.
I don't remember which Layer you found me in.
The War was waging hard here, as it always does. You found me, scavenging the corpses of the falling. You found me even daring to cut open the ones I couldn't find rations on.
You asked for my name. I gave you none, since I knew not my name.
"Edel Weiss. That's what I'll call you. You've lived foolhardy enough to be growing like one still. And your hair is bright and white like one anyway, though a bit grimy."
You carried me away. Fed me and clothed me. You, the Dragon. The one who destroys and cuts apart all as if seven headed.
A Beast that shouted love to me.
Day after day, you put in rigorous training. You'd forget my name and would call me Lilac. After my eyes, you'd say. It became a nickname of mine, I suppose.
You helped me develop how I fight. How to survive.
A large blade, bigger than me. A "ssangsudo," apparently. I trained so hard to one up you. To show that I can unsheathe it in a blink of an eye and parry a blow. You laughed when it first happened.
Semph.
I write to you to inform you that I have learned where the Hyades lie. The Demoiselle D'Ys apparently could potentially be there. I know not what could be there. Please come and assist me when you can. I know how you are.
I beg of you, unsheathe that thin blade of yours. I know not how dangerous these all are. I've left the coordinates that I believe they reside.
Sincerely,
Your loving daughter,
Edel "Lilac" Weiss
[From here, a string of coordinates lay here. Somehow, they remain redacted.]
█████ ████ ███ █ ████ ██ ████ ██████ ███
I do still truly want to participate in this. I still like this place and like being part of the community.
But I feel out of place. Everyone is strong. And almost always stronger than my own Corporation.
I don't want to have to artificially make them more powerful but I feel that almost every single thing about what I create can just be toyed around with by other people.
Some of the strongest are just really good fighters. I only really have Geneviéve for anything remotely close to amazing hax.
I just feel weak in a world of the strong, and that stole a bit of the fun.
The answer was 42 by the way.