Zurakian Stronghold

OOC: Yey

It spreads out to the surrounding area. 

The blast of energy, nearly three feet in diameter, roared across the room, accompanied by an audible screech. Even though it was a good meter off the ground, its pure power upheaved the metal floor, sending chunks of rubble and debris flying everywhere. Purple strands of lightning arced from the beam, frying almost every monitor somehow still intact with a distinct “fzzzzt” sound.

Zurakia stood completely still, eyeing the blast casually. At the last moment, even as death hurtled towards him, he simply smiled. Casually, as if swatting away a fly, he brought his metal hand in front of him, fingers splayed outwards towards the blast.

When the two collided, a shockwave ripped apart the room, instantly smashing the existing rubble into dust. White light illuminated the room, casting everyone inside in a ghostly appearance. With it, the beam fractured, ricocheted through the gaps in his claws, slamming harmlessly into the surrounding walls. When the dust cleared, Zurakia hadn’t even budged.

Strands of black smoke billowed from his hand, forming a small plume overhead that writhed in the air like a snake.

“Really?” he smirked, “That’s the best you’ve got? Pathetic!”

“Alright,” Voidarix snarled in reply, “You want my best?”

He threw his arms out in front of him, purple energy swirling at his finger-tips.

“Here! Take it!” with a roar, another barrage of energy exploded from his hands. This time, not limited to one blast, he sent stream after stream of crackling energy toward the Great Being. The pure power from the blast alone sent out another shockwave.

The impact shook the entire facility. Explosions radiated outwards, painting everything a dark purple. Inside the maelstrom, the swirling mass of cubes came in and out of focus, surrounded by heat and energy.

The barrage carried on for seconds, but felt like hours. When Voidarix finally relented, dropping his arms to his sides, his heaving chest had synchronized with his heavy breathing. Before him, nothing remained but a charred crater and several tongues of fire that danced around as if in celebration.

The peace didn’t last for long.

Hundreds of cubes suddenly materialized in front of his face, forming into a massive, metal fist that hung in mid-air like a phantom. Soon, it was followed by the rest of Zurakia’s massive body, snapping into place less than a second after the fist.

Voidarix barely had time to snap his armor back together into Defensive mode before the blow sent him hurtling backwards. He slammed through the wall of the throne-room, followed by another and another until he had traversed almost the entirety of the compound.

His visor began glowing, accompanied by twin swords suddenly forming in his hands. Stabbing each downwards into the metal floor, he quickly ground himself to a halt.

Zurakia wasn’t far behind. Not even a second after Voidarix had stopped, he was upon the Makuta, his broadsword cleaving into the ground where Voidarix had been a moment before.

. . .
Standing in the once glorious throne room, the central computer watched the spectacle apathetically, arms crossed and silent. Even though they clashed almost a mile away, he could make them out clearly, thanks to the artificial corridor created by Voidarix’s back through the many walls that once separated them.

However, in his fixation on the fight, he didn’t notice the soft, red glow emanating from the rubble behind him. Only lasting for a moment, it disappeared as quickly as it appeared.

. . .
Metal clashed against metal as Voidarix met Zurakia’s attacks with his own. Spinning around and around in intricate combinations, Voidarix parried and blocked, sliced and diced when he could against Zurakia’s powerful slashes and bashes. The two danced around the room, Voidarix backing further and further back as Zurakia pressed the advantage until the Makuta found his back pressed against the wall.

Voidarix darted to the left, steam hissing from his armor as he morphed into Offensive mode. With a battle cry, he launched a third barrage at him. However, each was met with only open air as Zurakia’s cubes spastically dodged out of the way.

In retaliation, Zurakia brought his broadsword over his head and slammed it down on Voidarix. At the last second, Voidarix brought his swords over his head into an “X” shape. When they collided, sparks flew violently. Voidarix’s entire body buckled, pistons churning and gears turning as he used every ounce of strength in his being to hold off this singular attack.

. . .
Pain spiking through him, the central computer suddenly buckled over, his entire, translucent form spastically contorting unnaturally. The hundreds of lines of code that laced up and down his body went haywire, paragraphs of nonsense replacing the orderly digits and strings as they spun around and around him. The occasional “error” that popped up was quickly swept away as more and more gibberish coursed through him.

Shakily, he looked at his hands- now no more than rectangles warping over and over again, “What… what is the meaning of this!?” he croaked, watching horrified as his body continued to deform, now even more extreme. His human silhouette began to decay, warping into an unrecognizable form closer to that of a blob. Small holes began puncturing through the code, growing larger and larger until they were massive.

“Unless… no… that’s impossible…” he gasped, a sick feeling of unease washing over him as realization struck. Slowly, his “arms” dropped to his side, his core slowly being flooded with a feeling he had never felt before- fear.

. . .
Faster than Voidarix could react, Zurakia unleashed his own blast of energy from his chest. Nearly twice the size of Voidarix’s, it swirled and churned as it ripped through the room, lightning and sparks dancing around it in a column of death.

Vulnerable with his arms still raised over his head, Voidarix had only morphed half-way into Defensive mode when it hit, submerging him in pure energy as he was launched straight out of the compound. As his armor dissolved plate-by-plate, he barely registered as his back connected again and again with metal and rock. When the blast finally dissipated, he found himself free-falling, almost a mile above the grassy plains below.

. . .
What remained of the central computer materialized in the control room, taking a step back and eyes metaphorically wide at what he saw.

The massive, metallic cylinder in the room’s center was completely ravaged, chunks of metal ripped away from its base. Bathing the entire, circular room in red, tongues of fire leapt up all around it, consuming the thousands of cables that once surrounded it. Inside, crucial circuit-boards slowly burned away before his very eyes- each one ripping away yet another portion of his consciousness.

Adding even more, innocent, plasma screen casualties to the pile, every monitor that surrounded it was smashed, sparks flying from their fractured, lifeless screens. Many hung off the wall, suspended by a single wire.

So shocked by the destruction- and also due to his mind slowly wearing away- it took him a few seconds to notice the small figure darting around the base, laying waste to whatever wasn’t already destroyed. An orange aura engulfed him, quickly fading away.

“Who- who are you? And what… WHAT ARE YOU DOING to me!?” the AI yelled hoarsely, slowly limping towards him.

Stopping, the figure turned to look at the blue hologram, a dark, hollow look on his face. A black, tattered trench-coat hung around him, somehow unharmed by the flames. In the space of a few moments, the aura completely disappeared, signalled by what sounded like the cawing of a bird.

Crumping to the floor, the central computer's heart metaphorically skipped a beat. Horrified, he cried out, “No! But you’re dead! I saw you die!!”

“Obviously, you’re wrong about that,” Deviox growled flatly, firing yet another shot into the mainframe, not even looking where he was pointing. The result was explosive, showering the room in shards of metal.

Ignoring the sputtering, dying AI, he stormed out of the room seconds before it caved in on itself, the rumbling emanating from the hollow cylinder muffling the defeated cries room within.

. . .
In front of him, a searing hole matching the diameter of Zurakia’s blast penetrated deep within the once fortified compound. The charred rock that made up its sides were a pitch black, tongues of flame leaping from its mouth.

Not even given a second to recollect himself, Voidarix was soon assaulted again as Zurakia materialized over him, his giant fist launching past his open defenses and grabbing him around the torso. Effortlessly, he held Voidarix aloft, the two of them hovering in mid-air. Slowly, his grip tightened, Voidarix feeling his armor plating crack one-by-one under the pressure.

With a groan, he pushed against Zurakia’s hand with all his might, but the massive claw didn’t move an inch. In response, the fingers drew even closer together, audible crunches emanating from the remaining armor as pistons snapped and metal buckled, coinciding with a piercing scream from Voidarix.

“My brothers- my equals- could not kill me!” Zurakia roared, grabbing one of Voidarix’s resisting arms with his free hand. Smiling condescendingly as the helpless Makuta tried to pull out of his grasp, he ripped the arm out of the socket with a resounding shearing sound. Ignoring his screams, Zurakia tossed the disembodied limb to the side, where it fell to the ground far below.

“Deviox- my second in command- could not kill me!” he added, spinning around and slamming Voidarix into the outer-wall of the compound.

“And you have the audacity to think that you can?” he sneered, bringing Voidarix’s limp figure close to his face, “You’re my creation. My design. Do you honestly think I would make my lowly soldier strong enough to take me on!? I know everything about you- your strengths,” Bringing Voidarix up and over his head, he slammed him into the wall again, harder this time. With a sickening crunch, more plates of his armor snapped in two, shards of metal exploding around him.

“And your weaknesses!” Snarling, Zurakia plunged his hand deep within Voidarix’s chest, ripping through the wires and metal in his way until he found what he was looking for- a small, glass orb, hovering in the middle of his chest. Inside, green and brown antidermis churned, gracing everything around it with a soft, green glow.

“Wait,” Voidarix gasped breathlessly, dread filling his stomach like lead, “What-what are you-”

Ignoring his pleas, Zurakia’s grip tightened around it, and, with a roar, ripped it from his chest, instantly silencing him. Clinging to the orb as its last life-line, a jungle of cables followed it, forming an oily, sparking bridge between it and his chest.

“No!” Voidarix roared, even as his voice began to weaken. Once a bright, purple hue, his visor was quickly replaced with a dark, black band. As his head began to droop, he softly cried out, “After… all I’ve been through… it shouldn’t end here- it can’t end here. You don’t… you don’t deserve to win.”

Standing completely still, Voidarix’s ‘heart’ outstretched in his hand, Zurakia sneered. Softly, he replied, full of malice and hatred, “You’re right, I don’t. The universe has told me over and over that my only destiny is to die. And yet, here I am.”

Half-heartedly, he tugged on the sphere, ripping a few of the wires and cables strung around it with a snap and a sizzle. Continuing, he added, a dark undertone beginning to blossom in his voice, “You’ve grown up on the old fables- the ‘good guy’ always wins, and the ‘bad guy’ always gets his comeuppance. Well, let me tell you something, Voidarix,”

With a twist, even more cables snapped in two, showering the two in sparks. Voidarix let loose another scream, ignored by Zurakia as he added, “The real world doesn’t care about your mundane morals. The only real rule is that the strong win,”

Effortlessly, Zurakia tugged a final time, ripping the orb fully away from Voidarix’s chest. A surge of electricity suddenly surged around them, accompanied his body arching and spasming uncontrollably.

When the deed was done, Zurakia simply let go, watching as Voidarix’s dying body dropped like a stone. With a final, decisive note, he added, “And the weak die.”

Pain surged through him, consuming him whole. Once an intricate design- a feat of engineering- his entire body was falling apart, the ordered array of gears, pistons, and wires inside him visible for the world to see. Almost all of his armor plating was gone- whatever survived hung off him by singular pistons. Once encased inside his body, Zurakian Energy leaked out into the sky, streaming upwards in narrow, purple plumes.

Slowly, as his mind blurred and feeling escaped him, the pain faded away. He could no longer feel the wind whipping around him, no longer hear the alarms that blared. The ground rushing towards him felt like an obscure illusion. However, he no longer heard the voices that clouded his head. The insane cackling was long gone, as was the memories that plagued him. Even as, deep down, he knew that this was the end, he felt elysium. Peace.

"What... what is the meaning of this!?"

"Welcome to 240p, you spawn of a glitch."

Hovering in mid-air, Zurakia watched solemnly as Voidarix’s limp body fell to the ground far below. A purple trail followed him, rising into the sky in a luminescent plume. After free-falling for several seconds, he hit the grassy earth with a thud, raising a small cloud of dust around him.

A dark expression on his face, Zurakia turned to look at the orb. Slowly, his gaze softened, his mouth twisting into a frown. Almost as if talking to himself, he muttered, “Shame, you had so much potential. And yet, you threw it all away.”
Shaking his head, he raised the orb to the sky. Light glinted through its transparent surface, highlighting the murky gas inside a bright green. Savoring the moment, he began to tighten his fingers around the glass surface, awaiting the satisfying crack that would signal Voidarix’s end.

Then the alarms began, blaring obnoxiously loud from within the compound. They originated from all over the stronghold, each one varying in its pitch and volume, but they all melded together into a single cacophony of noise. Accompanied by them was a loud rumbling, echoing throughout the countryside. It quickly grew into a roar, a raging beast letting out a final cry as half of the hillside upheaved, caving in on itself in a cloud of dust. Smoke rose into the air from its base, its now hollow interior orange with light from within.

“What!?” Zurakia roared, his booming voice somehow dwarfing the multitude of noises in comparison. Instantly, his gaze snapped back to the fortress, lowering the ball back down to his side at the same time. In his momentary distraction, Zurakia didn’t notice the red blur zipping out of nowhere to rip it out of his hand.

Zurakia slowly moved towards the source of the commotion, his face already morphed into a twisted, growling visage. Trying to ignore the red haze settling over his vision, his fists clenched and unclenched- in his rage, not noticing how his right hand was mysteriously empty now- as he did everything his logical mind would allow to keep the burning inside him contained.

When he finally reached the smoking pit, only his pride and his willpower kept him from letting loose a wretched scream. Inside, fire consumed everything it touched, ripping menacingly through the many rooms now vulnerable to the elements. As if Zurakia’s sudden presence excited them, the thousands of tongues of flames leapt up to greet him, writhing around like crackling snakes.

At its center, a once grand, towering cylinder was now a blob. Liquid metal dripped off its sides, pooling in seemingly orange, shimmering puddles. Occasionally, the charred remnants of a circuit board would bob to the surface; in a matter of moments, they too dissipated into nothingness.

What the karz had happened? Who had had the audacity to do this? It couldn’t have been Deviox- he had seen the life drain out of him with his own eyes, felt his head separate from the rest of his body. It couldn’t have been Voidarix- he’d been beating the karz out of him up right up until the explosion.

Who did that leave, then? Emarcee? No, not only did it not match his MO, the computer’s heightened defenses would’ve ensured he never even made it past the front gate this time. None of his other brothers knew of its existence either, and he had made careful precautions to keep it out of sight of those annoying third parties.

Quite a baffling mystery, one that he would’ve relished had he not been so furious. Alas, he decided he would simply take the more efficient route this time as to rip apart the vandal as soon as possible.

With a snap, he dissolved into millions of cubes, each swirling down into the inferno below. Unimpeded by the heat, they all swarmed through the destruction, navigating around the falling debris and writhing flames with ease. Once they were close enough to touch the molten steel, the cubes coalesced back into Zurakia’s hulking form.

Examining the computer, he noticed several small, circular holes bored into the sides. Interesting.

Upon his command, the heat was instantly extracted from a portion of the computer, cooling it down to a reasonable temperature before he ripped his metal arm into its side- all the way up to his shoulder. With a grunt, he searched until he found what he was looking for- a small, black box somehow unharmed by the carnage around it.

His face devoid of emotion, he palmed the device and flew out of the inferno. Navigating through the labyrinth of corridors, vaults, and rooms with ease, he didn’t stop until he arrived at his throne room.

Now completely dark, the once glorious throne room was in shambles. The aftermath of battle after battle that had taken place here had left its mark violently. Every monitor hung off the wall limply, most of their screens either cracked or dark. Immaculately sculpted marble tiles that once lined the floor was no more than dust and rubble- several large craters leaving permanent scars on the once smooth surface. And then there was his throne. Hewn from sharp obsidian into what could be considered a work of art, it was now just a pile of broken glass.

While a disappointment, Zurakia knew the damages would be incredibly easy to fix once the Conquest was complete. When the entire world is your oyster, you find that ornate rocks are easy to come by.

Quickly, he placed the box into a port on the terminal and keyed in a few short phrases. When nothing happened for a few seconds, he groaned and motioned towards it with his hand. Dissolving into a swarm of cubes, his arm laced into the wall behind the computer, rewiring and fixing all the damage done behind the scenes. When he was satisfied, he nodded and called the swarm back to him.

Again, he typed the same lines of code. This time, the monitor lit up with a digital jingle. On its screen, a small bar quickly filled up with blue. When complete, it began displaying fuzzy, green-tinted footage, separated into four, divided squares

In the top left, the traitors’ rudimentary assembly line ran, pumping out rows and rows of primitive soldiers. That would definitely be the first thing to go once this whole mess was sorted out.

In the top right, the same throne room stood in disarray, almost exactly as Zurakia had found it- almost. The Central Computer’s hologram stood in the center, watching something from afar.In the corner, a large pile of rubble stood unabashed, a small hand peering limply out from under it.

With a snap, Zurakia turned to look at where the pile supposedly was. The remains were still there, but it had definitely been disturbed, and the Glatorian’s body once buried in it was nowhere to be seen.

Beginning to put two and two together, Zurakia’s eyes narrowed. It was impossible, but what other alternative was there?

Still, he watched the body, waiting for something to happen. Eventually, something did. The hand began glowing orange, fiery tendrils rising off it, increasing in intensity until it disappeared with a subtle flash.

Out of the corner of Zurakia’s eye, he caught movement in the computer’s mainframe. Moving his gaze to the lower right square, he noticed Deviox’s signature shape suddenly materialize in a flash of the same color.

“So,” he growled, his eyes narrowing into slits, “It seems Lazarus here had a few more tricks up his sleeve than he let on.”

Watching with a mixture of fascination and anger, he watched as Deviox ripped apart the control room, blasting through anything and everything in a frenzy of firing.

Eventually, the hologram appeared, spastically glitching in and out of focus. Some kind of dialogue exploded between the two as the computer stumbled forwards, his condition getting worse and worse. With every shot, he got worse and worse until he fell to the floor, defeated.

With one final shot, Deviox stormed out of the room, right as everything came crashing down. Rubble began raining from the ceiling as the entire room shook. After little over a second, the footage went dark.

Zurakia stood silently, processing this new revelation. If Deviox had somehow achieved immortality, it would be an invaluable to the Conquest. Of course, he would need to be… studied for the design to come to fruition.

That still left Voidarix. He had been dealt with and Zurakia still had the orb- wait. Did he? In his rage, had he forgotten about it? No, that was impossible.

“Deviox!” he snarled, hands balling into fists, “It will feel so good to kill you over and over again.”

. . .
Zurakia stood beside a slender, red figure, nearly identical to the original hologram save for its color. This new version stood stoically, arms hanging loosely by his transparent sides. From them, energy crackled, arcing up and around his body.

Behind them, a new, towering mainframe rose to the sky, red lights spewing from vents that lined its sides. Its design was more streamlined, flat edges molding together with sharp edges to create a larger, more impressive design. A soft hum emanated from inside as terabytes of data circulated throughout its center. Deviox’s primitive soldiers crawled across it, welding final touches on it.

Giant rows of Mecha-Adaptoids hauled massive crates filled with scrap across the room, bellowing with each push. Every effort was met with little success- only a slight screech and a few inches progress. Still, they persevered, obediently bringing it little-by-little to the base of the construction.

Soldiers put the scrap to work, welding together a new roof overtop the control room. Every now and then, one would lose its footing of simply fall over from exhaustion, where they would plummet to the ground far below.

In the corner, the casualties lay in an unceremonious pile, some still sparking. Some were mainly intact, where others lay in a crumpled heap.

“Such primitive creations. What a shame so many resources were wasted on them,” Zurakia’s voice boomed, laced with disgust.

ARES Mk. 2 nodded in agreement, flatly adding, “A significant setback, but not an unsalvageable one. Your improved designs are being produced as we speak- we still have enough left in the vaults for a very sizeable army.”

“And the generals?” Zurakia turned to look at him, arms crossed across his massive chest.

“They are nearly complete- exactly to your specifications.”

“Good. Inform me when they are ready, they will need to be briefed for their mission.”

“Of course, master,” Ares replied with an illustrious bow.

The two stood quietly for a few moments until Zurakia broke the silence, “The war is changing again, Ares. We will have to change with it. I had hoped to make use of the already standing armies to add to my own, but if Deviox and Voidarix have taught me anything, it’s that one weak link will bring the entire operation down. I will not allow that.”

“Neither will I, master.”

Continuing, Zurakia added, “This planet has grown stronger than I anticipated. If we are to continue, we must improve as well.”

“And how shall we do that, sir?”

“I have had a lot of time to… think lately. In doing so, I believe I have stumbled on a way to refine Zurakian Energy even further, which I have found to bring some interesting applications to the table. I hope to implement them soon- my own body has already been upgraded with it. Soon, we all will. And then, we will have the strength to topple these ignorant empires.”


. . .
This time, Zurakia faced four warriors in his throne room. With his hands behind his back, his steps boomed as he went down the line, inspecting each one by one.

On the far left stood a small, unimposing figure. Underneath the simplistic armor that covered his body shone a green light, leaking out through the many joints and gaps in the metal. A visor wrapped all the way around his head, constantly blipping and humming as light danced around it. Underneath, a flat plate took the place of a mouth.

Beside him stood a tall, bulky figure with a large, mono-eyed head and a small clock imbedded into his chest. Layers and layers of armor covered him, reinforced with an innumerable amount of pistons. They were everywhere, lining his legs, his arms, even his neck. Large, bladed tonfas were gripped in his hands, reaching from almost the ground up to his shoulders.

Next in line was, surprisingly, an even bigger figure- even towering over Zurakia. Almost as wide as the other three put together, mechanical equivalents of muscles rippled all over his body, even putting Kikinalos’ to shame. On his back was a small, angular box with twin tubes sticking out of it. Inside, vials of blue liquid sloshed about, shining brightly.

At the end of the line stood a powerful, unnerving figure. Metal plates covered his body, each integrated seamlessly over the red energy pulsating inside him- beaming out through the cracks. Even his head was a smooth surface, defined only by the same plates that covered it.

“Now, your first mission. Bring me Deviox and Voidarix’s bodies. And one more thing- make their deaths painful. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve already killed them- I need no further, personal closure.”

Sweet!

Nelixa watches from the safety of her pocket dimension base. Perhaps this Deviox would be willing to be hired.

Zurakia stands stoically, watching the reconstruction of the Stronghold with his arms behind his back.

Materializing behind him, ARES Mk. 2 lowers himself into a stiff, but respectful bow, "Sir, the Time Dilator has located Voidarix. He is in the fortress they deem as 'Destral,' fighting the soldiers who refer to themselves as the RMS."

"Destral?" Zurakia replied gruffly, his gaze not moving from the workers below, "So, it seems that Voidarix has betrayed his oh-so-precious Brotherhood. Interesting..."

"Shall I send in Adaptorix?"

After thinking for a moment, Zurakia nodded, "Kill him."

After over a month of being produced, Zurakia's own, better assembly line had gotten to work could crank out 300 soldiers a day, building up to 10,500 soldiers now and quickly growing every day.

"Sir, shall I activate the defenses?" Ares asked, both he and Zurakia surveying the ships side-by-side from a massive monitor.

"No," he replied bluntly, turning away and heading towards the door, "From what the Time Dilator has gathered, this so-called 'Legion' seems interesting. I shall deal with them myself."



A swarm of cubes exited the stronghold, rising towards the ships. Once they reached it, they re-materialized back into Zurakia's towering form, facing the legioncraft stoically.