??? Wanders around the marshier parts of the everglades with her stand {Butcher Vanity}

??? Was quite certain she'd never had scales beforehand, and neither did her stand. In fact, the stand seemed to be slightly bulkier than usual, but surprisingly fast despite everything

Speed B to A(+1) (blur down trait +2 stages)

Durability C to B

the night didn't particularly bother her. She knew someone was around. Something dangerous, and she wasn't in the mood for fun

using her stand's newly-found speed, ??? speed blitzes a few unlucky tough-er American crocodiles, slowly but surely gaining heads (with some spares...for a reason), some reptilian limbs and more scales, with a torso in tow

power C to B

Durability B to A

her stand now resembling a sea urchin with jaws and scales replacing the spikes, they travel out of the waters of the everglades and into the dark forest.

There, a man hides.

no...no longer a man.

now, that CREATURE was her biggest hunt to exist

it wasn't easy stalking him, as the giant bulk of the stand was difficult to hide. However, she had experience in being stealthy and hiding in plain sight.

stalking her biggest prey ever gave her a bit of nostalgia...the panicking...the screams...the taste of acrid blood and tough tendons

her hand instinctively moved towards her midsection upon those fond memories. Yet, ???'s hands found no favoured knife of hers.

...a fistful of crocodile teeth would have to suffice...for now.

ADD SOMEONE PUTTING CHEMICALS INTO THE FUCKING WATER...or "vaccinating" a panther with rabies ig

INSERT REALLY COOL FIGHT SCENE HERE

PROFIT!!!

Not construct harken

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Me and that angel cultist has been wandering around the outskirts of {i} corp. We're trying to find an exit from layer 400...best of luck I suppose.

...

We found a weird hole, and ended up in a wonderland of sorts..?

W-corp...that's a new one.

Orrin sat cross-legged in front of the protective panels separating the object from him.

He was staring directly into the compressed suns, the faint screeching of solar flares and the groaning of crushed celestial bodies

Sweat beaded his metallic helm, before being evaporated almost instantaneously by the searing heat emenating from the suns.

...

He felt a sort of fear and sadness coursing through him.

It was strange. Why was his body recoiling when he reached for the sun?

...was a sun the reason why he was so deformed?

...

Orinn remembered something sad. A sister.

Would he ever reunite with her?

...would he be able to ever wield this sphere of fire?

To stand alongside the CEO?

...huh?

What were all these vapid thoughts? He was the current CEO. The last one was a psychopathic freak, only pursuing his goals and better off dead.

A liability to the meat packing room.

So why did he miss him? He hadn't even met the last CEO...right..?

But then how would he even become the CEO now?

He didn't have a sister...did he?

Am...

Amillia.

Amillia? Who was that?

I...i need to go. Clearly the unbearable heat is messing with something in my mind.

Tobbias kogwork was born into a wealthy lineage of bluebloods.

The kogwork family line, one of the founding fathers of {i} corp, which started off as an industrial business making neat little cogwork contraptions for the clergy and mass-producing candles and other such religious amenities

The kogwork family business was a small enterprise and an ambitious endeavour, before his great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather's grandfather had the grand idea of joining the founder on his crusade against the gods themselves.

In other words, they were deeply intwined into the lore and honor of {i} corp.

Tobbias, was not.

He was a troublesome child with no drive, and barely even qualified to be a Higher-up with the strings his family pulled.

Needless to say, they were positively pissed at the lazy tobbias. He was consequently kicked into a dangerous position in a newer universe, in order to "teach him a lesson"

Tobbias was 50% sure his siblings were trying to take him out of the inheritance by sending him to his certain doom.

...

Ah...fuck...he was too lazy to do anything anyways. Whatever, it can't possibly be that bad...

...right..?

(heeeyyyyy buddy~)

T corp vice director can bend space-time to make black holes, rewind time to heal wounds, accelerate stuff...no longer the bum we once knew. Such character development...

insert tears of joy

W corp's matriarch is a child...i don't know what else to say.

The Meat Packing Room's current CEO just has regeneration if you don't count the stand...i have to upscale him soon.

He dreams of one day wielding the compressed suns.

{i} corp's new director is...well idk man.

Orrin slowly cracks open yet another five loko and pours it into the remains of a mutilated psyker, peppering the disgusting mix lightly with meth

Holding the dish with both hands, orinn walks through the dining hall and makes his way to his boss's table quickly and places it down carefully

He patiently waits for the CEO to finish his breakfast...

30 minutes...

1 hour...

2 hours...

3 hours...

What's wrong boss? You haven't even touched your food, it's cold now boss.

The "CEO" slumps over, something wet and dark oozing out of under his hood.

...how about you, haru..?

She's leaning on the chair heavily, one of the eye sockets empty and her skin sewn together.

"Haru", weirdly, wears a chef's uniform despite the fact that she'd never worn one of them in her lifetime.

The spaghetti in front of her is still thawing, like its been pulled out of a freezer. It's slightly burnt.

Orrin tilts his head toward lucifer, expecting an answer

"Lucifer" looks awful. His pale grey body is covered in carefully preened, snow-white duck feathers. A sharp smile of shark teeth is plastered onto his face, and his eyes, replaced by those of a snake, stares into nothing.

The dish he's having is a nice hot, well...not anymore, but it's still a pretty good jambalaya, topped with a glazed apple at the very goopy center

...oh my fucking gods...

Orinn rubbed his metal temples, and was about to pull out the cyanide pill in his mouth when-

Oh. Right.

He'd clad his entire face with steel.

Well...whatever. Orrin had to get better at finesse-puppeteering complex bodies instead of the usual husk employees or the imperial MPR knights

Hera flew back, dropping into a roll to minimise her injuries and quickly getting up

H1: "Hey! Who the hell are you???"

???: "...domain expansion: {COURT OF THE TYRANT}"

H1: ^("wait what")

The ground shook as pillars of gold erupted forth, clad in tapestries of her awful, rotting visage. The level turned dark, shadows leering across the grass and shrubbery.

???: "so, I'll give you the run down on how my domain works...every 10 seconds, I can force a rule, a command, or a restriction.

Everyone has to follow what I say...

Except for myself, of course. Now...for my first ru-"

Hera swung at the doppelganger(?)'s face, breaking up her sentence and probably her nose too.

???: "...you fucker."

The dopple(?) backhands hera's complimentary fireball away, jumping back to continue her sentence

???: "MY RULE: STAY STILL, FOR 5 SECONDS!"

...and Hera slammed her knee into the dopple, before delivering a nasty quickcast of agathe's tenderizing gash.

The awful spell cuts a grievous, bloody wound in her stomach, magically making her weaker, however, the dopple barely reacts to this gash

???: "...right. You're me, of course it ain't gonna work..."

"...how much do you think a single life costs?

...

If you answered 'it is priceless', you are wrong. Every life has an intrinsic value.

The life of a mere bird is no match for the life of a human.

Why? Is it because the man is sapient, and therefore more intelligent?

So does this mean worth is based on intelligence? Of course not. That would be ridiculous.

If the bird was more intelligent, the man should be worth less, yes? Then why do we still unconsciously insist that the bird is less?

What if this bird was clad in the finest gold and jewels? Would that mean its monetary value is higher, and therefore is worth is more than that of a man?

...to think that wealth is a reliable indicator of worth is also utterly wrong. How can coin be reliable, when the price of a simple loaf of bread constantly fluctuates?

So, there is no way we can truly, and I do mean truly and fully emulate the worth of something, only that we can make informed decisions based of on what we have, and estimate the value of its life.

...and...sentimentality."

His breathing pauses...then, he continues speaking, his voice wavering but holding a solid conviction.

"...it...clouds judgement. Distorts the vague, intrinsic value of things.

It clouded my sense of justice.

Hera...my best friend. Perhaps, to the young, foolish me back then, she was even...even something more.

...

Ever since she got back that power...she acted corrupted. More volatile. More cruel. More violent. More antagonising.

And like an idiot, I turned a blind eye. When I finally looked back, my friends and followers were already wounded from her words...and some even from her actions.

I had to set an example. I...had to let our long-forged relationship go. I still regret, sometimes. But it was necessary.

A prison of her own making. Ironic. Perfect, and just. I could not let sentimentality tamper with my justice."

A faint dripping noise could be heard in the background.

"..."

The voice is barely audible, cracking with sorrow

"I am sorry for being blind to what happened.

I am sorry for not taking action sooner.

I am sorry...for imprisoning her.

I am sorry...for...everything.

...

I am...

...

Sorry."

A younger, less scarred Orrin is tinkering in his shack along with his occasional guest Hera.

"hey, what'ye doing right now?"

Trying to connect a brain with a computer, why?

"you might wanna put those wires in the brainstem, trick that sack of neurons that it's in a human body."

Wait, have you done this before?

"I'm just uh...really into electronics and human biology, don't think too hard about it."

She pulls out a thin plug out of her cloak

"Now, you see this cable in my hand?"

Yeah.

"Jam it into the top-centre of the brain where it splits. I made it so that computers can pick up on emotions easier."

...and that is wayyyyy too specific. Are you sure you haven't done this before?

"haha, sometimes."

Orrin put down the eight glass of Malört, half-empty with the visages of his coworkers and boss swirling in the disgusting ichor.

...i miss em'.

He squeezed the crimson earring in his palm and adjusted the collar of his uncomfortable new suit.

He stood up and looked at the various photos pasted around the large office, too big for a man of his normal stature, like it was built for someone larger than life.

Still, the framed pictures were front-and center of the office.

One of the pictures contained a man that had a wispy body, and clones surrounding them.

Orinn had good memories about him, remembering his vital assistance during the golden throne thieving.

Another, had been their accountant. He'd disappeared one day, much like the previous employee however.

...

And so much more coworkers...so much more...

...friends.

Moving to the largest of them all, orrin stared up at the only painted portrait in the room.

Wish you were here, boss.

He'd picked up a brush to draw him. Of course, it wasn't the best, and he couldn't capture every single inch of his glory, but...

Orinn tried his best.

He's always tried his best.

Looking down at the yellowed photograph in his hand, he sighed. A group selfie. Him, Amillia...some other random people.

Their eyes were bright and cheery. Nothing like what they turned out to become...

I break everything I touch, eh?

...I'm tired, boss.

Orrin curled up, and slowly, the tears fell.

(Hey, wouldn't it be funny if I brought back {i} corp?)

(not yet.)

(NOT YET????)

(mhm. He's got a point...you dumbass.)

(ALL OF YOU GUYS ARE ME! STOP INSULTING YOURSELF!)

(...)

(...)

(...)

(You love your mother.)

(YOU PIECE OF SHI-)

You know what this is about.

As the...

*sigh*

...New...head....

...I have re-abled the weekly taxing of the wings, starting from...today.

Please don't make this difficult.

Whisper whisper

...

What the fuck do you mean {i} cor-

Yep! It's going away...how the fuck is the flames that strong

Somehow.

This is canon, BTW.

Every branch and leaf of Orinn's E.G.O. twitched erratically. He just needed to hold on long enough for most of the employees to escape...

Just...a little...longer...

He'd ripped openings that indirectly led to the meat packing room for his fellow employees to enter, but between the effort of keeping them open and fending off lower-leveled angels, his energy was starting to wean and his plants were withering.

Orrin was finding a certain something...one last thing, before he went back to the meat packing room.

"aren't you tired? It's so difficult to go on with such little power, am I right?"

Go away...I'm trying to find the coin.

"you want to save him...right..?"

...

The boss would've wanted the meat packing room to be secured first. Can't let him down.

When he comes back we'll already cleaned up the place and-"

"you know he won't come back this time..."

Orinn ignored her, gurgling happily as he found the small, metallic object he was looking for.

A nicholas coin.

I wish that all employees of the meat packing room arrive back in the meat packing room safe and soundly, within 24 hours.

Orrin deactivated his EGO, turning back into a humanoid and quickly slipping into a crack of the basement leading to the meat packing room.

Where am I?

Who are these people?

Why are they all turning into light?

What's going on?

...i...I'm so tired, I just want to see my boss again...

Orinn hastily pulls out his phone from his pocket to dial his boss, still in a daze.

...pick up, pick up...

[The number you have called, is currently not available-]

...why?