January 20th
9:00 AM
https://soundcloud.com/user-740948632-827545801%2Fla-grande-roue
All across the Earth Sphere, in the wake of the UN's destruction, every screen that could possibly be reached by means fair or foul... Suddenly turned black. It was as if some sort of mass power outage had gripped the Directory itself... Until all turned at one, first to static...
And then, a voice. A man's, low, and gravelly... Yet also synthetic somehow, as though it had been run through one too many filters, all to conceal the true nature of its speaker.
West China, Pakistan Border Airspace
The Hecatoncheires crested the West China coast, clouds slashing against its azure form as it moved further inland. On the bridge, its newly minted replacement Captain, Onishi Kina, watched the broadcast with baited breath. All were silent... for what was to come had been in the works now for so long, they could hardly imagine it coming to pass.
"...It's starting." She whispered.
Rio De Janero Naval Base
Brasile, Brazil
A loud bang ripped through the early morning, sending birds scattering from their trees.
The Mass Production Huckebein staggered back, a crater-like hole blown in its chest. Flanking it on all sides were its fellows - only, with black sashes of construction tarp tied about their arms. It hadn't even been a fight, its pilot thought... It was a slaughter.
"You... traitors...!"
Sparking and spitting fire, the tan machine collapsed on its back. Its executioner raised its Photon Rifle, pumping an additional round into the cockpit for good measure... Until it stopped moving for good. No objections were raised by its peers, who looked on in stony silence. Eventually, the lead machine shouldered its weapon, gesturing to the closest unit, saying as it did:
"Robespierre Three. Rio De Janero is under our control. Inform Hyperion."
"Veritas Omni Vincit."
The Forbidden City, China
Esmee Oleander, the Volkruss Cult's chief Necromancer and temporary archbishop, could barely believe her ears. Even as she was, lounging on what had once been the throne of the great Emperors of dynasties past, she was a rigid as a board, eyes wide as saucers as she absorbed the incoming information like a sponge. At length, one of the several hooded figures clustered together to address the emergency gave a nervous cough.
"Honored Oleander w-what should we-"
The rest knew better.
The woman's hand shot up, the cultist's mouth slammed - and in short order, sewn shut by a barely uttered spell. She rounded on the assembled group, springing from her repose, gaze cutting left and right. There was nothing but madness in those pitiless black hues, as a low titter escaped her lips. Yes, she thought... This was exactly what they had been waiting for. Lao, calculating as he was...
...had always worked too slow for her tastes.
"The portents are clear..." She breathed, barely able to contain the excitement in her voice;
"Lord Volkruss ascent is nigh! Let us give unto him a banquet of souls, a feast of unbelievers, to usher him into the world!"
Needing no further prompting, the assembled high cultists scattered like roaches, each with his or her own survival firmly at the forefront of their mind. The necromancer, left on her own once again... drew her fingers up to her mouth, curled up into a murderous half-moon smile.
Blood would run in the streets... And Volkruss would sup upon it like the finest wine!
DEI Main Campus, Jeddah
"Oh, Hell."
Bertram Kessler kicked back in his chair, burying his head in his hands.
He hadn't been expecting this, but it seemed a fitting end to what he could only describe as the most God-awful week for his beloved company in history. With the Lemures lost to the great unknown, the Great Axion severely damaged, and the Scorpion now on the loose... It seemed his luck just couldn't get any worse.
But, he was not the kind of man to stoop to suicide. A flick of a switch on his screen, and the broadcast was replaced with something more... sunny. Topical.
Brightly clad young women, singing their hearts out on stage.
To some, it would have seemed little more than a perverse distraction... But as he did so, DEI's CEO ran his finger down a report that had been prepared for him by Dr. Couch only that week, stacked so full of highlights and sticky-notes that it seemed almost more note than document.
"Song Resonance and Dimensional Energy Crystal".
Bertram let out a long, drawn out exhale. No...
He wasn't out of cards to play just yet.
9:00 AM
https://soundcloud.com/user-740948632-827545801%2Fla-grande-roue
"People of Earth. Space. Luna."
All across the Earth Sphere, in the wake of the UN's destruction, every screen that could possibly be reached by means fair or foul... Suddenly turned black. It was as if some sort of mass power outage had gripped the Directory itself... Until all turned at one, first to static...
And then, a voice. A man's, low, and gravelly... Yet also synthetic somehow, as though it had been run through one too many filters, all to conceal the true nature of its speaker.
"This... is Hyperion."
West China, Pakistan Border Airspace
The Hecatoncheires crested the West China coast, clouds slashing against its azure form as it moved further inland. On the bridge, its newly minted replacement Captain, Onishi Kina, watched the broadcast with baited breath. All were silent... for what was to come had been in the works now for so long, they could hardly imagine it coming to pass.
"...It's starting." She whispered.
"You are now free. The United Network, tool of the tyrants... has been scattered to the winds. Never again will you suffer the censor's boot upon your throat.
For over one hundred years, the Directory has presided over every corner of our domain. You were promised peace. Prosperity. Unity.
But, this so-called Pax Gaia, this "Peace of Earth"... Is nothing but a lie."
For over one hundred years, the Directory has presided over every corner of our domain. You were promised peace. Prosperity. Unity.
But, this so-called Pax Gaia, this "Peace of Earth"... Is nothing but a lie."
Rio De Janero Naval Base
Brasile, Brazil
A loud bang ripped through the early morning, sending birds scattering from their trees.
The Mass Production Huckebein staggered back, a crater-like hole blown in its chest. Flanking it on all sides were its fellows - only, with black sashes of construction tarp tied about their arms. It hadn't even been a fight, its pilot thought... It was a slaughter.
"You... traitors...!"
Sparking and spitting fire, the tan machine collapsed on its back. Its executioner raised its Photon Rifle, pumping an additional round into the cockpit for good measure... Until it stopped moving for good. No objections were raised by its peers, who looked on in stony silence. Eventually, the lead machine shouldered its weapon, gesturing to the closest unit, saying as it did:
"Robespierre Three. Rio De Janero is under our control. Inform Hyperion."
"Veritas Omni Vincit."
"What you are now seeing... Is the rot which has corroded the Directory from within since the day it came into being.
Inhumane experiments...
"Sinister cults practicing human sacrifice, worshiping malevolent, ancient beings..."
Systemic oppression of any who dared to seek the truth...
And so, so much more. No more information is hidden from you - all you need do... Is seek it out."
Inhumane experiments...
"Sinister cults practicing human sacrifice, worshiping malevolent, ancient beings..."
Systemic oppression of any who dared to seek the truth...
And so, so much more. No more information is hidden from you - all you need do... Is seek it out."
The Forbidden City, China
Esmee Oleander, the Volkruss Cult's chief Necromancer and temporary archbishop, could barely believe her ears. Even as she was, lounging on what had once been the throne of the great Emperors of dynasties past, she was a rigid as a board, eyes wide as saucers as she absorbed the incoming information like a sponge. At length, one of the several hooded figures clustered together to address the emergency gave a nervous cough.
"Honored Oleander w-what should we-"
The rest knew better.
The woman's hand shot up, the cultist's mouth slammed - and in short order, sewn shut by a barely uttered spell. She rounded on the assembled group, springing from her repose, gaze cutting left and right. There was nothing but madness in those pitiless black hues, as a low titter escaped her lips. Yes, she thought... This was exactly what they had been waiting for. Lao, calculating as he was...
...had always worked too slow for her tastes.
"The portents are clear..." She breathed, barely able to contain the excitement in her voice;
"Lord Volkruss ascent is nigh! Let us give unto him a banquet of souls, a feast of unbelievers, to usher him into the world!"
Needing no further prompting, the assembled high cultists scattered like roaches, each with his or her own survival firmly at the forefront of their mind. The necromancer, left on her own once again... drew her fingers up to her mouth, curled up into a murderous half-moon smile.
Blood would run in the streets... And Volkruss would sup upon it like the finest wine!
"We, Terra Sentinel... Were framed for the Omsk Tragedy, which was orchestrated by the very same elites responsible for what you see here. Our name was tarnished... Our good name dragged through the muck, all for the crime of seeking the truth.
But, we have never surrendered. We have never stopped fighting, not for a single moment have we ever forgotten our purpose, our credo: To crush evil and wickedness, wherever it takes root; To seek the truth in all things; And, to bring swift justice to those who prey on the weak and innocent.
The time has now come for us to return to the world stage.
Wherever you are, whoever you are:
Stand with us."
But, we have never surrendered. We have never stopped fighting, not for a single moment have we ever forgotten our purpose, our credo: To crush evil and wickedness, wherever it takes root; To seek the truth in all things; And, to bring swift justice to those who prey on the weak and innocent.
The time has now come for us to return to the world stage.
Wherever you are, whoever you are:
Stand with us."
DEI Main Campus, Jeddah
"Oh, Hell."
Bertram Kessler kicked back in his chair, burying his head in his hands.
He hadn't been expecting this, but it seemed a fitting end to what he could only describe as the most God-awful week for his beloved company in history. With the Lemures lost to the great unknown, the Great Axion severely damaged, and the Scorpion now on the loose... It seemed his luck just couldn't get any worse.
But, he was not the kind of man to stoop to suicide. A flick of a switch on his screen, and the broadcast was replaced with something more... sunny. Topical.
Brightly clad young women, singing their hearts out on stage.
To some, it would have seemed little more than a perverse distraction... But as he did so, DEI's CEO ran his finger down a report that had been prepared for him by Dr. Couch only that week, stacked so full of highlights and sticky-notes that it seemed almost more note than document.
"Song Resonance and Dimensional Energy Crystal".
Bertram let out a long, drawn out exhale. No...
He wasn't out of cards to play just yet.
"There will be battle. There will be hardship... and bloodshed. But at the end of it.... Shall be a new world. A better, kinder, purer world.
One founded on the basis of human dignity, where the Government does not serve a handful of privileged elites... But the everyman.
Will you accept the painful truth, and fight alongside us?
Or will you defend those who would treat you as disposable chattel?
...
I know... That you will make the right decision.
Sic semper tyrannis."
One founded on the basis of human dignity, where the Government does not serve a handful of privileged elites... But the everyman.
Will you accept the painful truth, and fight alongside us?
Or will you defend those who would treat you as disposable chattel?
...
I know... That you will make the right decision.
Sic semper tyrannis."