The London Address (Post-Shroud Broadcast, Open)


Staff member
Jun 15, 2018
January 20th
9:00 AM
"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."

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."

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."

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."


Aug 19, 2018
As a screen turned to black in a room holding three people one of them tapped on the table. The man wearing spectacles eyed his fingers as they paused their taps.
"All transmissions were simultaneous, global. Every available channel was taken and used if someone missed it when it happened they would easily find a version of the full transmission on any video sharing service." He explained.

"Yet, Terra Sentinel's leader has revealed not as much as a glimpse of themselves. Even for the ground mission it seems a double or AI controlled unit was sent in 'his' stead." The man adjusted his glasses "Regardless the intent is clear, we are at the dawn of a civil war between the Directory and Terra Sentinel. The question at hand is how many will join this crusade. Due to the nature of their work it is hard to put a number on their forces."

The second of the three men frowned. "And here we thought it was going to be the Directory that would be the first one to throw the stone at another, but instead they were the recipient."

"It matters little." The last man spoke up, the commander of Shadow Mirror, "We've been preparing for this moment for the past five years and we knew it was at most weeks away at this point. Whether it was going to be the Directory, Everglory, the Colonies or even Terra Sentinel was not the important part. But this is unarguably the best faction to start the conflicts. They have caused a weakness with their first strike, have forced themselves into the open and made their purpose to destroy the directory clear. It is but a matter of time before the others join in on the fight."

Prometheus looked at the blackened screen, he aught to be grateful for this Hyperion for kick starting the process. But at the same time it would have been much better if the man could have kept onto this plan until the minions of Duminass had been located and destroyed.
"It is a matter of time before the forces of the Directory or Terra Sentinel find this place as such believe it is time we raise our own borders, with the destruction of the mirrors not a single faction holds a piece on the board beyond the abilities of the others. Every single faction holds at least one super weapon yet all are located in space currently."

"Ensure that all of the Guardian satellites that can fire on our location are rendered dysfunctional but let Terra Sentinel keep it until they can produce something capable of opposing the Granzon." Allowing a system such as that to continue existing didn't sit well with him but it was effectively the only thing giving Terra Sentinel a fighting chance and as such had to continue its existence to give them a fighting chance.

A deep exhale from the Supreme Commander.
"We are moving from a category 4 situation into a category 3 situation gentlemen. Cordell I want to have the prototypes of the new mass production units on the field by the end of the week. Inform Fox to increase Bioroid production to a war status." He stood up, "Time is of the essence, see to your stations. Total war could be mere minutes or days away from us and every second any of us wastes can be an opportunity to act."

"Operation Atlas has commenced."


Staff member
Jun 18, 2018
Aboard the Air Christmas

Though the dark corridors and hallways of the Air Christmas, the form of Vayne could be seen slipping in and out of the shadows, as he lurked his way through the ship. The broadcast playing through the ship’s speakers. Perhaps it may have been unexpected, but Vayne was hardly surprised at this new turn of events. It was only a matter of time before the cult would have been torn from the shadows, especially one of as great size as the Cult of Volkruss.

With Oleander at the helm back at the Forbidden City, Vayne could only imagine what would come next. If there was one thing Vayne was good at, it was understanding others. Oleander’s type was one of the easiest to read, she basically wore her heart on her sleeve. The streets would run red and they would attempt their own summoning of Volkruss.

But what would happen if they were to summon Volkruss at the same time as Lao? It was a most curious question, and with Tian Di’s life at play, what would become of her, were Oleander to summon Volkruss first? What would become of the Granzon?

It was a minor hiccup in the grand scheme of things, but it was hardly an issue for Vayne at the moment. All he had to do was wait.

But what of Lao? He stood amongst enemies that surrounded him completely. And with the curtains pulled back on the cult, surely he would soon come under siege by those within the Directory. Would he be able to achieve his goals before then?

Meanwhile Vayne himself was at risk too, he needed to make his escape at some point too. For now, the best he could do was wait it out until a chance presented itself. He would not see himself fall this day. He needed to see his plan through. It was the least he could do.

Tian Di on the other hand, he knew would be safe so long as the Directory needed Granzon. As she was the only one who was capable of piloting it, she was as necessary as the machine itself.

Though Vayne knew it wouldn’t be long. Volkruss will come to take what’s his, and solidify his existence in this world. Once that happened, what would become of Tian Di, he knew not.

Not that he’d let it get to that point.


Somewhere within Luna

Atop a tall building, Aberon stood with his arms crossed, looking down at the broadcast from high above. His sojourn through the Lunar capital was poorly interrupted by this mind-numbing broadcast, where he could do little but yawn at the bulk of it.

“So here we stand, with a world on the brink of complete annihilation, and these humans can do little but engage in their petty squabbles and roleplay ‘Tyranny and Oppression’.”

Aberon monologued to himself, giving a disappointed sigh.

“I had hoped that the humans I created would be more cooperative with each other, but it seems the idea of ‘complete and utter annihilation’ slipped out of their dictionary over the past two thousand years.”

Something needed to be done about this, but he wasn’t getting anywhere with his current arrangements. He needed to gather the pieces of his body, though it seemed that he wasn’t the only one interested in the 12 relics. The fool named ‘Ze’ev’ also seemed intent on gathering the spheres for one reason or another. Though considering he came from a timeline where Earth had already met its end against Kali Yuga, perhaps their goals were in-line with each other.

If he really needed to, he could always usurp them from him later on, should he need to. Perhaps for now it would be best to search for alternative methods of regaining his strength. With all the technological developments that have occurred over the past millennia, it seemed like he would be guaranteed to find a reasonable-enough sized power source somewhere.

The El Milleniums
The Giants
The Angels

He still needed to relieve his ‘subordinates’ of their positions.
Nov 14, 2018
Tellus City
North America

"Shouldn't we be doing something? Isn't anyone rioting in the streets? Looting?"
"I think everyone's as stunned as we are."

The Tellus City guard huddled up in their hangar. Off to the side, the research team lined up by the wall and collectively sulked. Head of the team, captain Kawashiro, had sunk sullenly with his knees to his chest. Meanwhile, Kotora stood somewhere between the two groups, her Shurashin silently looking on from amidst the lifeless PTs. It was strange to the girl that these men and women that she had gotten to know rather well were so despondent; especially the research captain. The broadcast certainly seemed volatile, but as an Outsider she didn't have very much frame of reference for what most of it meant for the Directory or even herself.

While everyone remained in relative silence, the subtle chime of the hangar's personnel door opening. Nearly everyone looked as a woman entered from the relative dimness of natural light and in to the glaring white industrial light. The clack of her heels echoed off the walls with as much snap as the actual step. She wore a general, dark business suit likely to offset the decidedly unsubtle pink, collared shirt she wore underneath it. Upon her blazer's breast pocket was an ID badge that simply bore a Directory logo. "While I'd like to make this as formal as possible, I think I should start by saying that you all are under new management." The woman said in a volume that would be considered loud even for the large hangar; she smiled genuinely as she finished her proclamation.

- - -

Neo Harajuku

Solomon narrowly avoided brushing his tablet off his desk as he leaned forward to prop his metal head up with a hand to where his temple would be. He tapped the desktop with his finger in annoyance, the resounding thud of his robotic digit against the wood drowning out the small clock he had on his office wall. Back in his mercenary days Solomon had encountered people like this; selfish men with ideas above their station, believing themselves to be acting for the good of whatever cause they thought themselves head of. Perhaps it was the similarities that grated him most, but Solomon took solace that the difference between a bunch of girls promoting peace and love and the Directory's radical ghosts were many.

Vents on the back of Solomon's head flipped open and started taking in outside air and putting out hot exhaust; the cyborg was visibly stressed. He leaned back in his chair and slowly reached for the phone to call the girls. Just before he touched the handset, the phone rang. The caller ID said it was from DEI headquarters.

- - -

Underground Maintenance Tunnels

The broadcast had managed to play on an old PA system in the dusty depth's of Romme's section of the tunnels. The man's already distorted voice was compounded by the aged speakers, adding a smattering of wavering and more than a fair share of static. The Scholar uncharacteristically ran to a nearby terminal and pushed his face close to an old screen playing the video.

Romme bore a smile that only increased in size and manic quality as the broadcast went on. Whoever that Hyperion was, Romme would have to thank him whenever he learned his identity because his "job" just got a lot easier.
Aug 4, 2018
Somewhere in the UK
Ashley had failed.

But at the same time.. she knew it was the right choice. That huge machine had stopped the drop, and remaining would have put her revenge permanently out of reach. Her heart was having trouble accepting that fact, not to mention the Scorpion's displeasure - It had fought her all the way, trying to force Ashley and the Riot back into the battle despite the certain death that awaited them. She'd spent the night asleep in her pilot seat, being quite literally jolted away when the billboard near her hiding spot was hijacked.

It started by practically rubbing her failure in her face, but only got worse from there. Every little horror the Directory apparently had was on display, with one snippet giving her pause.

Systemic oppression of any who dared to seek the truth...
Her. The Riot - or at least A Riot. The one she'd lost in space, but now it was sitting there on the screen. Taunting her. Ashley had to remind herself that she wasn't the focus of the video - DEI built the Riot. DEI were the ones fighting for the directory, and she'd left them behind when the Scorpion woke up.

But the Ares.. still looked like a Riot. Like one of his creations. That had to change. Energy flooded into the sphere, but rather than being used to propel the Ares Ashley aimed the outputs... onto the machine itself. Red particles flowed over the former shell of the Riot, settling onto it in clumps. Inch by inch, the machine began to change - orange making way for a bloody red, snd every marking showing the former Riot as a DEI machine being erased. It was a fresh start of sorts - a new beginning.

I know... That you will make the right decision.
She was going to make a decision, alright. But Hyperion didn't seem worthy of holding anything close to a moral high ground. He was the enemy - him and every monster in the Directory's closet. Ashley knew who needed fighting, but first... she needed a target.
Subject: Resignation

Left DEI - Took the Scorpion with me, but there's no way I'm giving it back. Know anywhere I can stay? Not really got anyone else to ask, and it's 50/50 on if I'm even able to get what funds I had out of corp accounts. Gonna try to lay low for a bit, maybe join up with some other directory forces once I'm sure they won't shoot me on sight. See if I can do some actual good for once.

Good luck up in space. Can't be easy with all this crap.

P.S Keep an eye on the news. Might see me.